90th of Ashan, Arc 716
After Sundown
The sounds of a lute and a drum echoed throughout the ground floor, giving the curvy raven haired beauty that was next to the bar a beat to move to. A handful of clients, all of them male, had gathered around her and watched her seductive dance. Some of them were content to simply watch her for breaks, while others hoped to get to know her more intimately in the course of the night. More people sat at the bar or in one of the comfortable chairs that could be found throughout the room, often in the company of one of the scantily clad women that worked in the brothel. The smell of perfume was heavy in the air and mixed with the smell of alcohol and something more.
Tristan himself had chosen a seat in the very center of the room from where he could watch the bar, the dancer as well as the staircase that led to the rooms where the women met their clients, as if he owned the place and didn’t just visit it more or less regularly. The top buttons of his white silk shirt were undone, his hair was slightly tousled and his cheeks were flushed as if he had just engaged in somewhat questionable activities himself and was still hot and slightly out of breath. A bottle of Venora Red that was already half empty and a glass stood on the table in front of him. A pen was in his right hand, and a notebook that was filled with his elaborate handwriting as well as countless drawings was in his lap.
One of the girls, a curvy little redhead with freckles all over her body, he thought her name was Lucille or maybe Lucia, stood behind his chair and looked over his shoulder, occasionally playing with his hair and giggling as she did so. Another girl, this one with olive skin, curly dark hair and deep brown eyes, had taken a seat on the left armrest so that she could watch what he was doing closely, and a third girl, blonde with big blue eyes, sat in the chair opposite of him, occasionally blushing a little.
The blonde wasn’t quite used to that kind of attention and felt both flattered and a little out of her element at the same time. Usually the men just wanted to go upstairs with her and sleep with her, not draw her. She desperately wanted to see Tristan’s work of art, but every time she dared to ask him about it, he would just shake his head, smile enigmatically and tell her that he would allow her to take a look when it was finished, that he was actually considering making a statue of her because she was so beautiful.
After Sundown
The sounds of a lute and a drum echoed throughout the ground floor, giving the curvy raven haired beauty that was next to the bar a beat to move to. A handful of clients, all of them male, had gathered around her and watched her seductive dance. Some of them were content to simply watch her for breaks, while others hoped to get to know her more intimately in the course of the night. More people sat at the bar or in one of the comfortable chairs that could be found throughout the room, often in the company of one of the scantily clad women that worked in the brothel. The smell of perfume was heavy in the air and mixed with the smell of alcohol and something more.
Tristan himself had chosen a seat in the very center of the room from where he could watch the bar, the dancer as well as the staircase that led to the rooms where the women met their clients, as if he owned the place and didn’t just visit it more or less regularly. The top buttons of his white silk shirt were undone, his hair was slightly tousled and his cheeks were flushed as if he had just engaged in somewhat questionable activities himself and was still hot and slightly out of breath. A bottle of Venora Red that was already half empty and a glass stood on the table in front of him. A pen was in his right hand, and a notebook that was filled with his elaborate handwriting as well as countless drawings was in his lap.
One of the girls, a curvy little redhead with freckles all over her body, he thought her name was Lucille or maybe Lucia, stood behind his chair and looked over his shoulder, occasionally playing with his hair and giggling as she did so. Another girl, this one with olive skin, curly dark hair and deep brown eyes, had taken a seat on the left armrest so that she could watch what he was doing closely, and a third girl, blonde with big blue eyes, sat in the chair opposite of him, occasionally blushing a little.
The blonde wasn’t quite used to that kind of attention and felt both flattered and a little out of her element at the same time. Usually the men just wanted to go upstairs with her and sleep with her, not draw her. She desperately wanted to see Tristan’s work of art, but every time she dared to ask him about it, he would just shake his head, smile enigmatically and tell her that he would allow her to take a look when it was finished, that he was actually considering making a statue of her because she was so beautiful.