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The Art of Vindication (Open)

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The Art of Vindication (Open)

Post by A Song of Charm on Mon Aug 03, 2009 9:04 pm

Havenworth was not a name that had yet made its mark on the art world. But Shelia was trying. It was her passion and her calling. The one area of her life that never disappointed was her art. Oil on canvas and clay were her chosen mediums, though she dabbled in others, these were the two that yielded beneath her hand, brought about a new creation that held the distinct Havenworth style.

Of late her paintings had been darker, more blurred, impressionisitic and her sculptures bordered on the macabre. A reflection of her life she supposed. When she turned her back to the opening of the small booth where she was displaying her art, a wan smile crept across her face. A reflection of her pain, of her messes, of her inability to find a niche. Of her constant state of want.

Craving what she could never have seemed to be the rut she had carved out for herself. Was it the need to feel something, anything? So feeling a deep longing was better than being numb? A ridiculous idea considering she knew that the other half of herself was hardly numb. Amora felt everything. She had the ability to tap into a person's very soul and find what tempted them the most, using her charm to beguile them toward her way of thinking. Manipulation, domination, and satiation were the order of Amora's day.

Shelia's day, however, was bursting forth to be rather dull. An art show usually was for the artist. A line of booths set along a sidewalk outside the Inn allowed customers to stroll casually along, browsing the work of the artists who had yet to become so successful that they had no need to peddle their wares. Shelia Havenworth dressed in jeans, a button down shirt with sleeves rolled up and untucked looked for all the world like your everyday starving artist. But it wasn't the money she needed, it was the recognition. She had all the money she could ever use, but each day that passed she felt less and less significant. Like she was fading into the background of life, becoming an unnoticed part of the tapestry that few people could distinguish from all the rest.

She blamed the men in her life for that. All of them. Even the ones who succumbed to her charms were in effect a part of the problem, and a reason she was right now aching inside. The wan smile changed, grew more cunning, and the glint within her eyes grew sharper, less dreamy and more predatory.

Someday...someday she would see all the injustices done to her..righted. Someday she would be vindicated for the sins piled at her feet by those who had no idea what drove the woman. Someday, those same people would be weeping and gnashing their teeth in regret.

There. There it was. Passion.
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Re: The Art of Vindication (Open)

Post by Guest on Mon Aug 03, 2009 9:57 pm

It was not known to Donald Blake. But his life was well watched. It didn't matter that his travels took him to other planets. Places like New York. On the tallest of skyscrapers. She too was well traveled. And did so far easier than he. When Brother Thor made moves. Even when it was through his crippled vessel. Sister Loki was watching.

Truth be spoken. She'd thought Brother smarter. Of all to find. To awaken. He chose Amora. Was he lonely? Was it the emptiness of his bed? Could it be finally the absence of Sif was weakening him? Perhaps she should cross his path soon. To see this possible wonder for herself.

Oh if he was. How fortuitous that would be. Brother Thor, weak. And giving her an ally. The Enchantress. Her old friend. It could not be better. Unless she had planned it herself. Except if she had planned it... Not this mortal vessel. Shelia Havenworth? Who was she in her world? Nothing but struggle. A peddler practically. How droll. How quaint. How...human. It gave Loki another to watch. When an ally returns to the world. There was no use in wasting time.

The moment had come to visit the open market.

Within the small crowd. A mix of locals, tourists and the lost. Today walked Wylie Fitzlaufey. The only Asgardian with the skill to fuse her being with her mortal vessel. Never was she beholden to relinquish control to allow the human its life. She wore the face that once belonged to the vessel of Sif always. As a reminder to Brother Thor. What need had she for manhood, after all. What need had she for womanhood. She was Chaos. And Chaos defied form and feature. For it was ALL form and feature.

This day her form and feature were sophistication. Confidence. Class. A far cry from how she normally chose to adorn this body. Wylie Fitzlaufey was often a punk vocalist. Other times a model for artistic nudes. Today she was the latter. The woman who walked this marketplace. Down the lane effortlessly in classic heels. Was opportunity. For Shelia Havenworth. This hour Wylie Fitzlaufey was a chance.

The woman had turned her back to the public. Facing her art. That is when Shelia would hear someone behind her. Politely clearing her throat. Should Shelia turn around. Wylie was there. Lean, well postured, toned and tall. Dark hair pulled sleeky back into a bun. Two gold chopsticks held it in place. A well-tailored sleeveless blouse also of golden hue. The fabric weightless, expensive. A skirt of deep red weave. Bare legs. Her heels matched her top. A dark brown leather clutch in hand.

"Shelia Havenworth, am I correct?" Was Wylie not familiar? This mortal was an artist. Surely she had seen this face and body before. Bare, of course. Whether in bronze stone or canvas. Wylie's was a body that every name seemed to paint. At least once. If not more. Some went so far as to paint full exhibits. Entranced by this intoxicating woman. And those paintings. Always sold. No matter the price. Without fail. Recognition soon followed them. The model's name? Only a single word was known - Wylie.

Wylie graced this artist with a charming smile. A fluid sweep of her hand at the art which hung behind the woman. "A friend told me to come. Cerrano. You've heard of him, of course?" He had an exhibit most recently at the modern art museum not far from this very open market. Two of his paintings featured Wylie. One was in last month's paper. "I must say...your style. It's unlike any I've seen before."

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Re: The Art of Vindication (Open)

Post by A Song of Charm on Mon Aug 03, 2009 10:19 pm

Nobody in the world of art was ignorant to who this woman was. Wylie. She'd admired the woman for the past several years. Rather, admired the woman's body. From the top of the dark head, down to the more delicate parts, even the tips of the toes that were now encased in classic heeled shoes.

The awakened Amora knew instantly who was entering her playpen. Loki. The trickster. Oh Thor, what have you done?

"Shelia Havenworth you are correct. And you, are Wylie.." No last name needed. The first name said it all.

There had to be time taken to appreciate the view. A visible scrape down the body that had been immortalized in every conceivable form of art. No artist in their right mind would pass up the chance to fantasize about how many ways they could recreate the woman.

Shelia's nose tipped up then, looking through a veil of lashes while the smile that toyed along the full mouth brought to bloom an understanding that had nothing to do with art.

"Cerrano, everyone who cares anything of art, has heard of him. " A step closer, rounding Wylie to pass against her back with just the merest brush of her own body. The tall blonde would be considered Nordic in origins by anyone's definition, and now that statuesque female leaned near Wylie's ear from behind.

"Tell me, Wylie, Cerrano told you to come. You always do what you're told? Or are there other, more compelling reasons that brought you here?"
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Re: The Art of Vindication (Open)

Post by Guest on Mon Aug 03, 2009 11:10 pm

"I am." Spoken with such gallance. There was nothing but complete ownership within every inch of Wylie. Ease. Acceptance. The things mortal men and women wished for within their own bodies. Dream of. This woman possessed it. Made it seem so effortless. Perhaps that's why so many wished to paint her. Seeking her secret. Wishing to capture it. Immortalize this alluring enigma. Vitality in its most mysterious form.

It was clear that Wylie did not mind being studied. Jungle green eyes watched the travel of Shelia's gaze. A coy curl to the very corner of her lips. Playful. The look had the faint suggestion of beckoning. Invitation.

But her slender brow arched. When the mortal artist chose to circle. Curious. Wylie turned her head just so. To watch this woman who now perched over her shoulder. With the brush of bodies came a sensation for Shelia. Almost indiscernible. But distinct. If one knew what to look for. A small shock. Electric. Much like the kind that came with static. A hint of the current that ran through this body. Power. Unmistakable, palpable power. The current of Chaos. Waiting for release.

But. Not here. Not in this market. Not before this mortal woman. Shelia Havenworth. Not yet. Instead a croon from Wylie. A suggestive reply. In a tone that danced within each syllable. Every interviewer agreed. Wylie was sublime to listen to. Such aplomb, such stories...

"I daresay I'd be no subject at all if I did what I was told." A feline smile. Beguiling mark of mischief. An intimate gaze. Jungle eyes desiring nothing more than to captivate hers. "I always say. If one wants obedience. They should seek a bowl of fruit. Not life."

She turned around. To face the mortal. "I never did understand the fascination of a still-life. Do you, my Shelia?" My Shelia. The words colored the air as any term of endearment would. But in these words the listener would feel something more. Like the thrill and horror of getting caught with ones clothes off. To be with Wylie was to feel wonderfully naughty every moment.

Facing Shelia, Wylie was audacious. Reaching up to brush a strand of the mortal's hair from her face. A wan smile. Within it so much. "After a bottle of wine Cerrano's lips are quite loose. He spoke much of you. It would be a lie to say it didn't plant curiosity within me..." Her jungle gaze remained on Shelia's fair features. Until her gaze snapped elsewhere. Eyes fixed on one of the muddier, more macabre works as she completed her sentence. "For your art."

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Re: The Art of Vindication (Open)

Post by A Song of Charm on Fri Aug 07, 2009 5:02 pm

"Do you, my Shelia?"

A sequence of things happened at that simple question.

At the burst of energy from Wylie, Shelia quietly gasped. While the beauty spoke, Shelia heard and comprehended the words.

Like rapid clips from a movie preview, she saw them. The Trickster and the Enchantress. Expressions of laughter on their features, wicked delights shared between them, with Thor at the center. Shelia's body shook with the onslaught, inwardly reeling with the new revelations of the recently awakened.

Outwardly it was mere seconds in the overall span of a lifetime, but those mere seconds changed Shelia Havenworth as definitively as the day Thor awakened her, brought her into awareness. This...this brought that awareness to a sharpened clarity of understanding.

The touch at her hair, the simple brushing away of a blonde strand brought Shelia back to the here and now, back to the human form she inhabited. Though a change had occurred in the icy blue eyes.

Breathlessly she answered. "Cerrano can be overly dramatic, but in this case, he likely is unaware that even his penchant for embellishing falls far short..." The eyes tore from Wylie to follow the female's gaze to one of her dark works of the recent weeks.

"Art mimics life, or so they say. If one looks close enough, they will find endless meanings in the artwork of one singular being. Interpretations become all the rage, everyone imposing their own ideas upon the object, but in the end, it is only the artist who knows what they were thinking, feeling....seeing..at the time..."

A slow smile came. Normally, Shelia would have been looking around, to be sure no one was about, that she was having a conversation unheard by others, but suddenly none of that mattered. She stepped closer, and maybe the reason she said it was to further her career, or maybe it was because she wanted a reason to be near Wylie for a while longer, or maybe it was a reason Shelia herself did not understand, but Amora, the Enchantress understood full well, or maybe it was all of those reasons.

"You do understand that walking up to an artist, flaunting yourself, is the highest form of teasing...." The smile continued, Shelia ensuring there was no more than a breath between them.

"You know I want to paint you, to place your image in clay, to immortalize for the world how I see you, right here, right now while you so casually engage me. It will haunt my dreams, and worry at my mind, so, Wylie...how long must I wait?"
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Re: The Art of Vindication (Open)

Post by Guest on Sun Aug 09, 2009 1:45 am

"Oh no, my Shelia. The model also knows. In our own way. For as you paint us? Your postures and expressions are portraits all of their own." Her manner of grin was magnificent. A triumph visualized. For so many things. Shelia's gasp, her body's shake, her step closer, her desire. All of it welcome triumphs for Chaos. Sweetening the pot. Wylie now would sweeten it in return. Beginning with an enamored sigh. "Transparent like looking glasses. Such secrets they reveal." A wistful and wanting glance at Shelia. Up through the delicate layer of her lashes. "I covet them. Between us? That's what gives me the thirst to pose."

Between them indeed. If Shelia followed Wylie's work. Saw her interviews. She would know the model never cited such as her motivation. It was Wylie's will and ability to captivate any she encountered. Male, female, animal, flora, element, so on. None 'safe' if they struck her fancy. Whether or not they struck depended on the big picture. The big picture was born anew each moment that passed. Sometimes with large changes. Other times small. No matter the size all were important to Chaos. All represented opportunity. And there were infinite ways to captivate. Each way selected based on the desire of the individual. To make it easier to seize. 'You could be part of my exclusive, private world'. That's what all of Wylie seemed to say.

For Shelia Havenworth would be captivated today. Perhaps already was. Certainly the artist's words showed Wylie's seed was well planted. Now to make it grow. Such a smooth movement of Wylie's hand. Touching her own chest. The gesture was of the 'who, me?' variety. She too leaned. Tilting her head just so. Straight dark locks resting demurely on her own cheek. As she whispered into Shelia's ear. "I'm afraid I don't know the first thing about teasing." Such lyrical words. Breathed as a private confession. A laugh as carefree as air and just as light followed. "Do you? You'll have to teach me. While I pose for you."

The wily being of Chaos leaned back. So jungle eyes could take in the full picture. Of mortal Shelia. "But I fear I have a particular need. A buyer. He has come to me with a specific desire. A series of twenty paintings. Isolations. My hand. My eye. A single breast. These are up to me. He seeks to pay handsomely and is a man of very high profile. As are the locations he wishes to place these works of are. As will be the press surrounding the unveilings. Notoriety for the artist is assured. And I am to select her."

She paused just so. For it all to sink in. Before the coup de gras. "Or him." Added with a wildly tempting smile. Which ended in a sultry pout of lower lip. "Should you break my heart by declining the offer. For as I've said...your style, I've never seen its like. But before you say a word. Here would be my payment to you. After you've painted the twenty I'd sit for as many additional of your own choosing as you wish. For you to do with what you may. Those paintings would be entirely in your control." Would she take the offer? The beckon of Wylie's smile suggested she wished it to be so.

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Re: The Art of Vindication (Open)

Post by A Song of Charm on Mon Aug 10, 2009 6:27 pm

To say she was captivated was certainly one of the top understatements of the century. The telltale signs could never be missed by one as astute as Wylie. Widened pupils, a lapse in her breathing that made it irregular, and the beginnings of a flush that accented the pale coloring of the artist.

A sweep of her pale gaze down the alluring form of Wylie brought words issuing out in response.

"Oh I think I could teach you many things, but teasing? You have perfected it to a fine art, my lovely Wylie..more complete than any I've experienced...."

Covet. The emphasis on that word was enough to sear through Shelia's soul. A word that was the very foundation of her existence. In any form. She coveted like a professional, on so many levels, so hearing Wylie admit such a trait brought low, husky laughter. The kind that inspired and sparked curiosity in the hearer. Speaking of hearing.....had she just heard the beauty now teasing her mercilessly correct?


Wylie just flopped out on the table for Shelia the offer of a lifetime. The kind that artists dreamt of and melted for, the kind some even feared considering. There was no mistaking; she heard the woman correctly.

For a moment, Shelia felt her entire world shift. The pieces of her life that had been no more than shards of darkness began to catch glimpses of light, refracting them into colors and vibrancy that had been missing for so long. Hope had long been missing, but it was familiar, hope whether it be for light or dark, was still hope and it fed a person's vitality

Just as Wylie was feeding Shelia's now.

"Wild horses could not keep me away from painting you, Wylie. A fingernail, a singular hair on your head, or the drop of a tear from those lashes....it matters not. " Try as she might, Shelia could not keep the rise of every response prior to this from reaching fuller height.

She nearly felt her mouth water from the anticipation alone. The business side of her brain was not completely floundering in the wonder of Wylie, however, so she continued on with the particulars.

"I accept. Your trust that I will not..take advantage of such an opened ended offer is honoring." The tip of her tongue peeked between her teeth as she smiled.

"At least, no advantage as far as the number of sittings I will require..."
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Re: The Art of Vindication (Open)

Post by Guest on Tue Aug 11, 2009 12:41 pm

For Loki there were few things more sublime than taking a human. Claiming them. Wrapping them in the dangerous yet thrilling gauze of Chaos. That Shelia was a vessel for an Asgardian simply made this particular occasion all the more sweet. The possibilities. Endless, boundless, infinite. The sheer potential of it...well. Shelia Havenworth was not the only one salivating. How tempting to begin this very moment. To demand the artist find a blank canvas and paint this instant.

But no. Distance would make the heart grow fonder and the mind ache with anticipation. These were useful things to possess when Wylie Fitzlaufey wished to capture. Certainly Chaos enjoyed swooping down on the unwilling. But in this instance. The willing Shelia absolutely glistened with potential. Perhaps Brother Thor chose this vessel wisely after all. The mortal's wide eyes and breathlessness were growing on her.

"How I do love to be taught..." Said with a thoughtful tone, a winsome smile which lingered. Before a shake of her head. Perhaps her next words would be clues enough to what was said only in her mind. "Or was it that I do love being taken advantage of? So very easy to confuse the two. Don't you think?" As she posed that bemused question. Shelia would be given the gift of a single wink. While Wylie had denied that she had the ability to tease. The vixen surely knew how to be playful. And the line between teasing and playful was so sweetly thin.

A graceful outward stretch of her arm. Wylie's delicate fingers fluttered over the plastic holder which housed Shelia's business cards. Her nails were perfection. Their natural sheen would only be ruined by manicure. Plucking a single card with her thumb and forefinger she did not read it. It was immediately housed in her clutch. The small bag snapped shut with finality. "Then it's done. I will telephone him straight away. He will be most pleased to hear I've found a suitable artist. Just yesterday he was accusing me of dallying, can you imagine?" How preposterous it seemed. This beautiful creature caught up in something as commonplace as dallying? Perish the thought.

Wylie gave no card in return. Perhaps she didn't bother with such things as cards. Not when there were more creative ways to leave one's mark. How she now took Shelia's hand in both of her own, for example. Not for a handshake. With artist's hand resting palm-down in one of hers. Chaos slowly stroked her fingertips down the back of Shelia's hand. It would surely cause the mortal's skin to tingle. An effect of Wylie's potent, bewitching electricity. Just present enough for the artist to feel the chemistry. As Wylie whispered intimately to her. "Such potential in this hand. I look forward to meeting it again. And you, Shelia Havenworth."

Shelia's hand was released. And Wylie took her leave with not a word more. Continuing her stroll down the path of this market. A resplendent creature moving with the ease of no cares in this world. Leaving the artist to wonder when that next meeting would be. With no way to find out besides to wait.

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