Let Me See Your Bones

Isla feels as though she is some uninitiated pleb compared to the artiste before her; she sits through his explanations of boheme, one hand in her lap and the other still holding the pencil poised over the paper, lips slightly parted either in awe or confusion (it's awe, Bastien, honest). "Oh," she says helpfully, eyes following the imaginary explosion, and it almost leaves her lips - how does that work for Ascended, since we feel no physical pleasure? - but she decides against it. Instead she watches the man before her sweep from the stage to the lounge, strip bare, and pose. Isla wants to smile; not at all because Bastien has anything about him that's amusing, far from it - she's merely caught up in his dramatics. "I see," she says. (She doesn't). "Alright, well - let's see how I do." And so, putting pencil to paper, she begins. And, since there's nothing else to do while she sketches, "Who is Venice? What are they like?" He'd mentioned a soul, so Venice had to be a person, right? Isla the flesh is weak