Band Candy: Pictures of an Exhibitionist

[ooeeooahah]

Who: ooeeooahah, dr_spengler, con_heir, velesdonnersen, and anyone else likely to be at the Spengler house because Ilsa feeds them.
What: Spring Cleaning Clears the Air
Where: 1490 Kramden Road
When: beginning 3 March, noonish
Warnings: Nudity to start off, likely other situations to follow.

[ Just a normal Saturday at the Spengler house. The usual suspects are gathered around the kitchen table. Ilsa has made more for brunch than the assigned household could consume, and even included cookies with chunks of chocolate in them. Of course, it could be a bribe, considering Ilsa’s casual comment. ]

You know, it’s getting close to time for a seasonal deep cleaning. Go through the house, get the attic organized, see what needs to be stored, scour everything and reset the wards....

Comments

[velesdonnersen]

[Ooooh. Coffee with sugar and cream, and cookies with chocolate. Life is good...]

[Tarvek sits on the counter, and indulges himself.]

[Far too innocent to be believed...]

It sounds like you're going to have a busy day, liebchen. It will be interesting watching.

[After all, he is a *prince.* Princes do not do spring cleaning...][Yes, he's teasing.]

[dr_spengler]

[Egon's already dug into the cookies (is anybody surprised?) and sits with one half-eaten while reading a stack of his own notes on the kitchen table.]

Oh good. It's about time that junk was moved out of my lab.

[He's a bit more blunt than usual this morning, though his words have no cutting tone. Just blunt.]

[ooeeooahah]

Eeeeegon! [ She ruffles his hair as she refills his coffee. ]

It's one painting, and you could have said something if it was in your way, you know.

[ It seems they've gone to opposite extremes - Ilsa's more expressive today, and very touch-oriented. ]

[velesdonnersen]

[And Tarvek's simply more open, and far less guarded than his norm. It's as though layers of discipline are easing up.]

Are we going to get to see what's in the big box?

[dr_spengler]

[Egon hasn't been too interested in the box or what's inside of it. He merely wanted it out of the way. He has now zoned out of the conversation and is browsing through his notes, intermittently eying Ilsa.]

[ooeeooahah]

The only problem is with a crate that big, it's going to be too big to hang in the living room.

[ She giggles as she stats looking through the tool drawer. ]

Besides, something that size is likely to be Jimmy's work, and most of them were nudes.

[velesdonnersen]

[Blushes but also perks up.]

Nudes? You've got paintings of pretty ladies? Oooh! Reminds me of the palace!

[Wistful memories.] We had some incredible DeVries. So pink... so very pink...

Where would you hang it? Mayfield won't let you put it in the living room anyway.

[He's definitely yearning a bit. Pretty pink ladies...oooh.]

[ooeeooahah]

Aha!

[ Ilsa pulls her pry-bar from the tool drawer. ]

Probably can't hang it in my office unless it's one of the abstracts. C'mon boys, time to clean the lab.

[velesdonnersen]

[Ooooh, he loves a strong woman with a Great Big Pry-bar! He sucks down one final slug of coffee, crams several more cookies into a pocket, and slips from the counter. He's humming an odd little hum as he pads after her. A very odd, complicated little hum indeed...]

Gonna use some toooools. Eeeee.

[dr_spengler]

[Egon had been distracted until he caught sight of Ilsa carrying a crowbar into his lab. It's amazing how quickly ones' attention can be turned when a personal laboratory is in jeopardy.

He starts after them before spinning around and going back to the table to grab his notes, then following them into the lab.]

Wait, wait, what are you doing?

[ooeeooahah]

Opening the crate, hon - gotta know what it is before we figure out where we can put it.

[ She hooks the end of the pry-bar in the corner of the crate. ]

At least it's too small to be Dream of Hell. That's got gore and nudity. But that was everybody in the commune posing for that one.

[velesdonnersen]

Was ist "commune"? A town? A city?

[Boggling] A nude city?

[Giggles, the stunned giggle of a teen boy sneaking past his hyper controls.]

I must see this picture, liebe...

[dr_spengler]

[Finally Egon's interest is piqued. Nudity? He shuffles over to stand where he can see the crate, watching closely to make sure that crowbar goes nowhere near the equipment he's set up.

Hmmm. Equipment. He gets distracted again and his eyes fall on that colander he has attached to the imager. Maybe while he's got Ilsa out here...]

[ooeeooahah]

The artist's commune I lived in had about twenty people, and the painting paid for the electric bill for a year.

[ Ilsa finally pulls away the panel to reveal the painting in the crate. ]

This one sold for enough to pay the rent on the house for the summer.

[ Ilsa steps back and smiles at the artwork. ]

[velesdonnersen]

[High-pitched giggle, again. His eyes go wide.]

Liebe!

[Eyes cross slightly.]

So, um... round. Very round.

[Caught between admiring and fretful.]

Were there any paintings of you facing the other way, love? If so, we must try to find them.

[He's not sure they must find them so he can hoard them, or so he can hide them. Or if there's a difference.]

[He gives another, rather hiccupy little giggle.]

[dr_spengler]

[At the sound of wood scraping wood, Egon's attention is caught again and he peers into the crate to catch a glimpse of the pai-... oh my! Egon can feel his cheeks getting warm.

That's odd. He's a man of science. Nudity's never caused that sort of reaction in him before. Well, except maybe when he was younger.

Still, he can't seem to stop staring at it.]

Ilsa? That's you.

[It's less of a question and more of a declarative statement.]

[ooeeooahah]

Mmhm. There's probably another six or seven out there by Jimmy, and his husband did a few sculptures of me. Debbie's stuff was charcoals and pastels, in a more portable size. Stephan was the one who used the lot of us for brushes instead of subjects, though.

[ Her tone is not at all embarrassed, and even might be a bit proud. ]

It helped out with the rent, busking was just enough to pay for my part of the grocery bills. This one was a bitch to pose for, since he had me balancing on a Lucite pillar to make sure the light was right.

[ Wait, did Ilsa just casually swear? ]

[velesdonnersen]

[She indeed did just swear...and while Tarvek's not native enough for it to be a gut reaction, he has learned what Mayfield doesn't like. Tsk-tsk. Scolds -- as he tends to do when his loved ones place themselves in danger.]

Love, you must be cautious!

[Looks in both delighted awe and Victorian disapproval at painting. The mental disconnect between the two reactions is giving him a headache.]

You definitely were not being cautious then!

[One hand starts to wander forward to lightly grace a painted curve, and a goofy grin shares his face with a slight blush.]

Defintely not cautious...

[dr_spengler]

[Egon's lost interest again and has instead quietly sneaked off to turn on a machine. It's odd. He seems to have forgotten what it does. It takes a bit of snooping around to remember exactly.

The monitor displays some bright colors in shapeless forms. The colander sits on a nearby table. Egon picks it up curiously and then eyes Ilsa.

What a perfect test subject...]

[ooeeooahah]

Art is not cautious. I can't originate in visual media , but...

[ She notices what Egon is doing. ]

Hon, I gotta say - when confronted with a nude, you get inspired in the strangest ways.

[velesdonnersen]

[Oh, sh*t. Tarvek looks over, and two primitive drives cut in at once. On the one hand he's still fixated by Ilsa's painting. On the other... A spark looking at tech in progress? And this is the teenage boy who filled his notebooks with doodles of girls and clockwork.]

Pttt. Nggg. Ah...

[Head swivels back and forth, back and forth...]

[If Egon does suggest using Ilsa as a test subject, there may be problems: perfect intersection of beautiful girl and sparky curiosity. Only past trauma re: his sister Anevka may slow him down... Maybe.]

[Stressed, he pulls a cookie out of his pocket and starts nibbling...]

[dr_spengler]

[Egon spins around as if he got caught getting into a cookie jar.]

What? I... no. I was just...

[Deciding that maybe he should pay better attention, Egon puts down the colander and shuts off the machine.]

Do you need help carrying that?

[ooeeooahah]

[ She chuckles and gives him a hug. ] Yes, we can experiment later, after the painting's settled.

Gotta decide where it goes, first. You see why I probably shouldn't hang it in my office, though. it'd be too distracting during counseling sessions.

[thekingofkamenriders]

[It was about that time that Tsukasa Kadoya, an artist in his own mind, arrived upon the scene.]

Oi! Ilsa, I'm sorry that I'm la...te.

[He stops for a moment, looking at the picture, and then down at Ilsa, and then at the other people in the garage, and then back at the picture again.]

I...think I may have missed something.

[velesdonnersen]

[Panic! A strange man is staring at Ilsa. And at a naked picture of Ilsa. Eeeeeeee! Must defend beloved!]

[Tarvek performs an unexpectedly elegant twist and swerve, and is suddenly in front of both Ilsa and the picture, with his coat jacket spread wide.]

Eeeee.

Um.

Egon?

[He's one poor fellow in someone else's home trying to defend a woman who's technically not even his Mayfield Wife, and The Man Of The House Could Help, Here!!!]

[dr_spengler]

[The hug causes Egon to stiffen unnaturally. Physical contact. What is? He's evidently more awkward than usual.

Egon is curious about the new person but utterly confused by Tarvek's reaction. The motivations behind such behavior are so far beyond him that he can only stand there with a blank expression.]

Yes?

[ooeeooahah]

Ohayo, Tsukasa! [ Yes, her accent is horrible. ] Glad you could stop by.

[ Completely unconcerned about nudity on display, it's not like he caught them in the middle of something. Still with her arm around Egon's waist, she introduces the newcomer. ]

This is Egon, my assigned husband. Tarvek, you remember Tsukasa Kadoya from the office?

[thekingofkamenriders]

[It was one thing for Tsukasa to be assaulted by a nude painting of someone he's only known for a short time. It was one thing for him to basically be flashed by a co-worker who was attempting to cover up the nude painting...but honestly, the way that they're all just kind of...relatively OK about it is almost unnerving.]

Uh, Ohayo. Egon, and good to see you again, Tarvek. I don't think we fo...[He pauses a bit.]

C...could you please close the coat? I know that you're wearing pants, but it's a bit unnerving.

[velesdonnersen]

[Teen-boy panic sets in. Coat shuts so hard seams are in danger. But Tarvek's still hovering defensively in front of Ilsa and the painting. Ilsa may be relaxed...Tarvek's raised as a relative Victorian, and he's horribly uneasy that his beloved's backside is on such public display.]

[He's grumpy to cover his nerves.]

Yeah. Um...Hello, Tsukasa.

Ilsa...maybe we want to take this out to the living room?

[Hint-hint-hint... ]

{Ignore him, it will only make him funnier. XD]

[dr_spengler]

[Tarvek never answered him so Egon is once again distracted, unable to figure out the motivations behind all the strange behavior happening around him. He picks up the notes he'd carried out here and shuffles through them, finally coming across one paper that seems to interest him.

He seems content to read it while leaning against a table, blissfully ignoring everything and everyone else.]

[ooeeooahah]

Tarvek, it won't fit in the living room.

[ Completely oblivious, maybe? ]

Let's go back to the kitchen, I need more coffee.

[ Invading Egon's personal space to kiss him on the cheek, ] Yes, going to move the painting once we figure out where to put it, then we can get to your experiments.

[ Leading Tsukasa back to the kitchen, ]

So you're a photographer back home? Journalism, fashion, or art?

[velesdonnersen]

[Tarvek, who interpreted Egon's 'Yes' as being aimed at the general group rather than a response to him, fails to track the reasoning, and glares at his sort-of-maybe co-husband-ish person.]

Kitchen, Egon. Coffee. [Leaning in and hissing.] We've got to look after Ilsa. Tsukasa's seen her picture!

[To him this seems obvious: one's beautiful female loved-one has been oggled. By a stranger. Chivalry alone suggests one then protect her.]

[He glares also at Ilsa. She is refusing to be protected... or even realize she needs protecting.]

The picture can remain where it is. In fact, why don't I throw a tarp over it to keep it safe and clean?

[He doesn't know what to say to Tsukasa, a co-worker he knows only slightly, who's now seen Ilsa's painted posterior, and who seems entirely oblivious. For which praise be to the Mother of All Storms, but... He smiles uneasily, and follows the ongoing conversations.]

[thekingofkamenriders]

Uh, art. I just did it because it was my destiny to capture the world on film.

[And it wasn't true oggling, to be honest, it was more like embarrassed staring, due to not expecting to see it.]

A, uh, tarp would be fine by me. No offense intended, of course, Ilsa, but...I just wasn't expecting to see you. Well, not like that, in any case.

[dr_spengler]

[Woah there. Personal space invaded. Egon mostly ignores it though his cheeks redden again. The mention of experiments piques his interest and suddenly Egon is eager to get back into the house so they can get this painting hung and then... experiments.

He raises an eyebrow at Tarvek.] Isn't that what paintings are for? To be seen?

[ooeeooahah]

Pfft, it's art - I knew it would be on public display when I posed. No huge deal.

[ She starts serving coffee all around when they get to the kitchen, remembering Tsukasa's preference for regular, and getting Tarvek's triple-triple ready. ]

I mean - I'm not putting it on the front porch, and it would be too distracting in my office downstairs, but it's in better taste than the calendar at the garage downtown.

[velesdonnersen]

[Tarvek tarries in the garage long enough to drape that tarp, then comes back in, feeling entirely misunderstood and under-appreciated. He gives poor Egon the hairy-eyeball, because how can the man possibly fail to understand that Naked Pictures of Ilsa are for private viewing...especially here in Mayfield. This isn't Paris, after all!]

[But coffee does help. He only pouts a bit, as he nibbles more cookie...]

But Ilsa, love, this is Mayfield.

[However, again, he's the boy who doodles women on his notebooks...]

But you are right. It is far better than those pictures in the local garage. [Eyes cross slightly, and one finger starts to draw on the table top...]

[Very quiet, under his breath,]

Um... I don't suppose you'd pose for me? Maybe?

[It may be obvious to those who care that Tarvek is already imagining himself with a beret, an artist's smock, a studio in Paris, and Ilsa...posed elegantly.]