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OOM -- for Minx
Feb. 6th, 2015 03:10 amDorian's room is of late, late Victorian opulence bordering on Art Nouveau, and encompass in its small space a little bit of everything that a gentleman of leisure might keep in his home.
The walls are papered in deep jewel-toned hues and covered with paintings -- portraits from all times of history, but no landscapes or still lives -- there is a small writing desk, a book-case filled with books bound in linen, silk, or leather, two chaise-longues arranged around a small table that, at this moment, only holds a potted orchid but has enough room for drinks, even a small repast, and a rococo bed in the corner, head and foot curved gently as if to encompass those that will rest, or play, upon it. There is a fire in the fireplace, a view of the snow-covered greenhouse behind the rich, purple drapes on the window, and chandeliers to light the room when darkness falls.
Dorian holds the door open for Minx with his free hand, and bows. "Welcome to my home away from home."
The walls are papered in deep jewel-toned hues and covered with paintings -- portraits from all times of history, but no landscapes or still lives -- there is a small writing desk, a book-case filled with books bound in linen, silk, or leather, two chaise-longues arranged around a small table that, at this moment, only holds a potted orchid but has enough room for drinks, even a small repast, and a rococo bed in the corner, head and foot curved gently as if to encompass those that will rest, or play, upon it. There is a fire in the fireplace, a view of the snow-covered greenhouse behind the rich, purple drapes on the window, and chandeliers to light the room when darkness falls.
Dorian holds the door open for Minx with his free hand, and bows. "Welcome to my home away from home."