| Then the First Officer spoke of that encounter as an embarrassment for her, which Ida had shake her head at. "Strictly speaking as an artist, I must emphasise how you certainly have nothing to cover up because of shame. Modesty, propriety, regulations, yes, but there is no reason to leave it in the past as something you might regret. Your body could be the motif of mesmerising art, should you chose to trust the artist to capture the feminine grace of your... state of bareness."
Smiling a little, friendly despite the incident between them and in spite of how the crew had come to view her, Ida sat with one leg folded over the other in the chair, and with her blue-skinned hands in her lap. Relaxed, calm, she spoke of art with great familiarity. "I would not mind painting you in accordance with Ilya's wishes from before the outbreak, but it must be on the same terms for all former hosts of the Rez symbiont if I would agree to do it. I made my living off my art and my fighting skills until I eventually joined Starfleet, and never once have I made a single croquis or life-drawing of someone not willing to be depicted in that fashion. Those who have chosen me to capture their bodies with brush or pencil have all been confident with my discretion - prior and post the modelling they did for me."
Ida smiled a little, her eyes wandering Edena's features as she spoke in a quiet yet unerring tone. "I would begin with the contour of your face. From your smooth temple, I would outline the shape of your ear. Then, I would continue on to shape your jaw. It would end on your left brow. Already, I'd have my frame." While she made her expertise clear with her words, she continued to meld imagination with artistry. "I would proceed with those hazel eyes of yours. They will not be too open, for I want to see them smiling at me. On top of each... are your fine, arched yet relaxed brows. I, then, try to shape your chiselled nose. Just below each eye, I try to outline your high cheekbones, which are just more adorable to notice when you smile."
As she spoke, Ida's fingers itched to actually draw Edena, yet she still continued - a trance having fallen over the Ready Room. "Speaking of your smile, I would attempt to draw your slightly red and loving lips, closed, yet promising to tell me so much more than a drawing might say. I would carefully draw every strand of your brown hair." Reaching up idly, she opened her undershirt collar a little while her gaze wandered down. Ida pursed her lips to finally complete her imaginative work. "I would now give you a body," she said softly, breathing deep. "As I pictured early on, you are slightly facing left, with your hands running behind your head. You support your weight with your right leg, while your left leg is bent, or rather, relaxed... Only then do I begin with your pattern of spots - starting from your feet and working my way back up to your neck, the back of your jaw, your temples..."
Ida had more then just an artist's hands, it appeared. Indeed, she also had an artist's tongue, speaking words like a poet that had a way of drawing in Edena's full attention. The careful way in which she described the details of drawing her face, her body, her spots. It was hard not to feel flattered by the whole thing, but Edena was still very much an innocent. She had only had a couple of sexual relationships in her life, and those took months to get her undressed with the lights still on, not out of fear that her body was inadequate, but simply due to an extreme shyness she never got completely over. If it was Illya in charge, Edena's body would probably already be stripped down and asking Ida to get out the charcoal and start drawing.
"The hosts do not interfere with my personal decisions. If I wanted to . . . pose, then it would be my choice and my choice only." Illya would have been in favor, Kiya was comfortable with nudity from years as a Medical Practitioner, and Jona already knew to keep his eyes off her, out of respect. When she showered or changed, she would always see him staring out a window into space, and never her way. Of course, leaving the choice to Edena was a bit like handing her a loaded gun and telling her to play Russian Roulette. It was Illya's constant begging to be the model that would make her relent, as long as there was one question answered properly.
"Would anyone else . . . see it?" She didn't want any other eyes on it. It was her, and she didn't want to share that with just anyone. Illya could act as a model for Ida, and have herself drawn however she pleased, just so long as the only two set of eyes to see it were the two people already in that room.
At the question, Ida's eyes had lingered on those moving lips, wondering how she might best give them the texture and fullness they deserved in the drawing. Nevertheless, she answered her XO - one whom she knew she ought to still be suspicious off, but had somehow convinced her along the line - with the help from Captain Ives - that the former spy was to be trusted with the crew and ship Ida was loyal to. True, if Edena would act strangely for some reason, things might change pretty quick, but as for now, the interest in the Trill was strictly artistic. Well, perhaps not just artistic, but it often started that way for Ida...
"The drawing would be yours unless you wish me to keep it for you, and you may even chose if I should make a holographic scan of it - framing it for you as well - to let you make it appear on your wall at your own leisure. Unless you have disabled the holo-emitters in your quarters, that is. Oh, and Commander? I am not forcing you in any way, for I am merely pointing out that it would be my complete privilege to capture you - as bare as you were born - upon my petty canvas."
The moment was ruined by the sound from the door, a chip signalling a second visitor.
Blinking, Ida startled a little when the moment passed, and she glanced from the door to the XO. "Pardon," she said to the Pinkskin. "am I dismissed?"
"Um . . . dismissed, Lieutenant," Edena finally stammered out, permitting Ida's departure.
Ida indeed dismissed, without any request being made to her to actually schedule a time for making the drawing. So Ida stood and smiled, inclining her head before leaving. "Please give it some thought, Commander, and get back to me when you decide." Fingers itching to begin preliminary sketches of her, Ida turned on her heel and marched out of the Ready Room. Her spirits much lifted since the point when she had entered, she smiled faintly to the fighter pilot outside - Commander Renard - and inclined her head before vanishing in the direction of the turbolift. |