"Excuse me, what?"When baths were mentioned, usually they were under the pretext that these baths were intended for one person at a time only, with variable degrees of privacy available, depending on how much you valued the ability to cleanse yourself without pry. Franz came by, and with naught but a simple phrase, shattered that contemplation with the most brazen proposal short of asking her to bed him.
Mind you, it was not that Ines was opposed to the idea of bathing around others; That was a luxury not afforded to tenement occupants. In an Ostend tenement apartment, if one were wealthy enough to procure their own private bathtub - which Ines would have been had her mother's habits not burdened them so greatly - it was typically in the kitchen, the bedroom, or in most cases, simply, "The room"; The common factor between the trio being they were unconventional, out-of-place locales in most households. Even the concept of a private bathroom estranged itself from tenement living. Any business was taken care of in the outhouse array in the rear alleyway, just next to the street outlet beyond. Public restrooms also meant public bathing. Now, the unspoken rule that you should always cease sight to the opposite sex always applied, even in such squalid conditions. Clotheslines with whites and sheets could form impromptu shades and dividers, but it was far more typical to simply become very familiar with the human body's many shapes and forms.
Ines' face dropped with the query, exasperated. Clearly taken aback by Franz, the Darcsen closed her eyes, nuzzled her nose down, and placed a few extended fingers upon her forehead. Exhaustion got the best of even so seasoned a veteran as her, and that this came out of what she thought was, in fact, not from nowhere, but instead a feint to inspire a specific emotion. If said emotion Franz wished to inspire within her intended to be that of expectation-shattering confoundment, Franz succeeded in a tale for the century. Her eyes reopened, gazing upon the five-finger splay in front of her; beyond that, a floor where she traced the wood lines along, hoping they'd give her some sort of comfort in how they curtailed about like rising steam patters. Right, the little patterns. The little things. Things to calm yourself.
"Calm down, Ines. Just-""Hey Ines, what’cha doing?" "Deciding if I should slap Franz."The slapping would have to wait, if it ever came. The thought was enticing at the moment, sure, yet all in all, what Ines wanted was a bath and time to think things over. But, she promised she'd talk to Franz, and she tired herself thinking it over, and one by one, the reasons not to eclipsed any notion of ill-conceived privacy eroded under the simple desire to get herself clean. She shook her head, raising her eyes, and responded simply.
"You know, just...okay. Just...don't stare at me." Ines declared, the unsteady pulsation in which she carried her words carrying with them a weary resignation.
"I'll talk to you in a bit, Diana."Almost a shame. Franz was far from bad-looking, but she was more hopeful to share a bath with Freya.
Franz didn't take much of her reactions at the time. His demeanor had been of a stone wall and even the acceptance of his offering did little to actually change his facial expressions. For all intents and purposes it appeared on the surface that he had no particular interest but there was a slight change in his expression as if to confirm her words.
Truth was that Franz couldn't properly think at this time and while that was to be expected from someone who was currently struggling with his own thoughts and potential insanity one could also argue that he wouldn't be so far from being grounded in social norms. But whatever the argument was, it did not match to what his mind processed. The very concept wasn't very far gone from his own mind as well as Franz had not been one to sexualize too often or, at least, has gotten so used to similar situations that he was unwilling to be subject to tripping all over himself in this moment.
He gave her a nod and opened the door to the bathing room, pulling off his backpack and placing it to the side against the wall.
"It's nice to be in the company of another Darcsen. Few and far between it seems at times." He was almost monotone in ways, seeming to hold that endless stare as though watching the world overhead as he shamelessly stripped off his clothes and folded them neatly piece by piece. He had stopped for the moment to wash his hands and arms off after he had taken off all of his upper body wear. He seemed methodical at least, not a single step done without purpose and certainty in a more calculative mood as he adjusted the water with a couple of turns of the valves.
"Feel free."
What on earth was she doing? Well, that was a redundant question, of course. Ines knew precisely what she was getting into; That would be a bath in the company of one of Squad 1's finest. Perhaps, then the better question was
how. Yet, she knew the answer to that as well; He had asked her, and she had agreed. When put into greater context, however, the sheer...circumstance of her appearance and choice seemed less than elucidating to her strange dance of fate, instead only complicating it beyond fathomable circumstance. Just an hour ago, they awoke between pillars of rubble, clinging to their lives with no certainty they would see tomorrow, and just as soon, almost at the drop of a hat, they found food, shelter, tranquility, like the oasis in the desert.
And at the end of it, Franz opened the door. And at the end of that...Ines was excited. Perhaps that was not the most appropriate word? It wasn't a particularly new experience, and yet, it was. She had seen other men and even bathed in their presence, before, yet that was of necessity, not of choice; Where Ines found herself now, there was that choice of bathing alone in blissful solitude, and yet, the - and her head still spun from the oxymoronic conglomeration in which she could describe Franz -
Imperial Darcsen, had offered himself in company of the much-desired bath. Truth be told, it was a difficult proposition to believe, and yet, there underlay concern for the man. In his monotone, blank, faceless demeanor that carried so much expression as a rock in the fields.
His comment on the company of another Darcsen had registered, although such a riposte needed time for Ines to comprehend, for her mind still riddled itself with the wonders of her now-companion's thoughts. He opened the door for her, in true chauvanist style, and Ines thanked him for his gratitude. She could find the room herself, assured, and yet, Ines could not help but blush in the sight of him. No doubt, Franz's intentions were difficult to discern, even at the best of times. She appreciated his virtue, yet...
He began to throw his clothes off in the room in audacious fashion, without couth for decorum in the face of clearly better opportunities. Yet, Ines thought of it not - not in the face of moral virtue, no, for whatever prudish dictation may lay in the face of this clearly had not experienced the realities of life, of love, of emotion - no, Ines found it strange, that is all. Strange that he so simply would disrobe himself before what may as well have been a complete stranger, for that is what Ines was. Ines knew not his station or his history, nor demeanor nor ambition. Yet, war brought out the truest forms of us, as did all hardship, and in that calamity Ines knew Franz to be a quick thinker, unwavering in the face of adversity.
And that, perhaps, was why he so simply stripped down, thinking of it as one might the day's sunlight.
She did the same, in a way, yet past the discarding of Franz's shirt, Ines turned her back, yet whether that came from courtesy or shyness, she herself could not say. It was reflex, at best, and while that intuitive sense acted upon her, so did that rational actor when it came to terms that she was still here to bathe, and thus it came to that Ines would begin to strip in much a similar fashion to Franz. The Darcsen faced toward the wall, removing her outmost bandolier first, then her jacket, pants, and smallclothes until she stood with nothing separating the pair but eye contact.
"So, Franz...what did you do before the war?" A socialite of the Francian aristocracy Ines was certainly not. The silence grew thick, and Ines saw it fit to thin the brush, no matter the cost. Admittedly, she was curious about him, and as she reasoned, the pair should at least learn about one another if they were to partake in so intimate an experience.
Franz continued to move, his motions still being sorted by the architect within. The artist of motion spun another gear. A thought proded his mind. What more was there? What could they need more? Logically speaking, the squad would have been worn and looking to relieve their burdened shoulders than a healthy dose of artifical happiness?
It was at the time that she asked that question of his past that he swooped down as the graceful beast of the lake dipping for water upon its beak. What was more was the consideration of the soldier. The question didn't seem to be so simple. It begged attention that he wasn't currently giving it proper. In the face of a soul asking to step into his shadow he began with a slow rise. He thought of it long and well as he adopted the posture of ancient statues. Stripped down to the whole of a man he examined the bottle and considered it well.
The bottle was aged. Its person held within to be enjoyed by those who found themselves upon it. Yet for as old as it was, was it mere coincidence to have found a substance so strong and mature? Was it reflective of the man held within? Building up in strength and looking to burst upon being undone from its prison to leave its shell a empty husk incapable of hosting another such as the one before. What all did it mean? Did it mean anything at all? These were but the thoughts of the man caught in the spotlight.
He turned his head to the side to better view the bottle in the light as he brought the bottle down to be held at waist level. A quiet breath. Then, life came from the lips of his person.
"A man of my being? Uninteresting as it may be, I served as a body guard to a friend. My service was proud... even if some things never healed. I found catharsis in stencils and canvases of which I often took part in using while within the borders of an 'enlightened' city with nothing to prove but its own hubris. Yet still, there were generous patrons who commissioned my work when I could afford to upkeep my suit properly and secure a vehicle for travel."He put the bottle down gently upon a counter.
"It really didn't matter what it was. The ground which we walked, the rule of man, the flight of the butterfly, and the waves of the sea. There were individual commissions of great value to single households and even took part in creating memories for groups of higher standing. It was a baffling experience to be invited to privately paint for the wealthy, not because I was special, but because I was a Darcsen who impressed them. And as we know, because we do not matter in the eyes of society, I was given my time to work, but only within clearly stated rules. I joined the military to pursue honest pay for my friends who I considered family."He then leaned over to feel the water, judging it quietly before standing straight and considering his actions. Continue with conversation. That was the sound choice.
"What about you, Ines? What of your past?"
Ines couldn't help but smirk as Franz explained himself. He spoke almost as though he were in soliloquy, and yet, in such a thought-out eloquence as if he was
required to impress her. Truth be told, Ines knew only roughly of what he was saying. What Franz spoke of echoed the words more a distant philosopher high in the hills rather than a normal person. Alas, Franz was a queer sort, but there wasn't anything wrong with being a bit strange, was there?
At the end of it, Ines pondered why he refrained from much simpler a syntax than the sermon Franz chose to gave, in spite of the satisfactory nature in his little proclamation. Mind you, things still resounded to Ines; That notion that the Darcsen, in Franz's words,
"did not matter" rung true, if perturbing. It was an experience she knew well, but, strangely, in a way also knew did not matter. If what Ines had known through her many years on this earth had resounded with any veracity, it was that people were born, then they were proven. For what Ines had of her meager birthright, she had made the best of what she had, as paltry as that may be, and for whatever pittance that may be, Ines found a certain pride in overcoming the odds.
Her head raised slightly, more in a natural pose, thinking her words over as her own query rebounded to her. Candid she would be, yet, Ines harbored anxieties towards the release of her past. Ladylike was not an adjective often suited towards Ines, and even the idea of your typical Francwoman needn't apply to Ines, even in many of the most basic cases.
"Before the war...I was a streetfighter. A professional, too; I fought in scenes, in front of a crowd, and that's how I made our money. Since I was 13, that's what I did. That's what I had to do; either that or be a gangster or some other menial job. My mom has a job, but..."Her voice audibly hushed, and even while her back is turned, Franz could sense her cusped frown form from the the acrimonious thought. The disappointment was almost palpable, like it hung with the mist from the filling bath.
"My mom is a mess." She started, chagrin watering her voice,
"She crawls home in the mornings after spending all of her money gambling or drinking or trying to impress someone. If we lived off of her income, we couldn't eat. We couldn't pay the rent. We couldn't do anything except squat in an old factory.""I have a brother, but he's not any better. My mother sent him to Vinland when he was a little boy, and now he's a big and mighty ledger manager in New Belfast. He doesn't talk to us anymore. Won't even return our letters or send money home aside to boast and brag."A sigh escapes, Ines taking a deep breath from the reflection. Her family was a mess, as was so painfully clear, and even the mention of it drove her to discomfort mentioning them, the embarrassments they were. Perking up, she turned her head slightly, noting the slight
splash of Franz's movement in the bath. Peeking over, the edge of her eye looked back to Franz, barely noting his back turned to him, as it should be. She slowly headed to the bath, covering her important bits with her hands as she approached the bath. Ines didn't look down at Franz - though the thought crossed her mind, no doubt, from that natural curiosity that pervaded everyone in the presence of others so exposed - and instead quickly moved around to her end of the bath. Faced forward the entire time, she quickly lifted one leg over the tub, then the other, taking residence in that half of the water so clearly designated as hers.
In the bath, Ines deeply sighed in relief, the rushing warm water coming over her body as it came over, like she could feel every bead of the foamy bath unwind every tight and clenched muscle in her, from her sore, ripping calves, up her thighs and unto her clenching, aching back, still rather red from the wear of a combat load. Hand cupped, she threw water over the rest of her body, taking time to start cleaning herself off.
Ines chuckled. If she was already here, she figured, she may as well tell Franz a little something to pass the time.
"You know...when I was a little girl, do you know what I wanted to be when I was a grown woman?"
She was a fighter. It seemed that she was not just a fighter as in the metaphorical sense that so often resonated with so many others but an actual streetfighter as well. To be a professional for-gold-and-glory fighter was something that seemed like it would have paid well, but even that didn't seem to be enough. Probably something of screwing her over for her hair no doubt, but he had no idea what she needed to sustain. Medical care would have likely have been much harder to get without money and it was something he remembered Markus becoming angry about on several occasions and eventually got to the point where he hired on a doctor who had lost his medical license for medical expenses in a not so fortunate and arguably abandoned makeshift hospital. If they couldn't fix the wounds there then it was off to a major hospital which meant actually shelling out cash that the gang couldn't honestly pay as they happened to live in such a place where Darcsen had to slide over more money. Typical.
The answer to his inquiry came immediately after, listening to her begin to crumble as she explained what a regretful mother she had. Franz couldn't relate. His mother was taken from him and he felt as though his birth was a tragedy more than anything. Not that he wallowed in self pity all day over his mother being a rape victim and being a child of such matters, but he did know that his father did not even attempt to make the situation better. As it was the only reason he allowed Franz to have the freedom to study books in his time was because then his father, seemingly smart enough to think so, could use him for financial gain. However, Franz refused this and were it not for that he wouldn't have been here to listen to Ines drip with welled up emotion.
Then there was the brother. Not much to note about him other than wanting to grab him by the neck and strangle him to death with a piano wire. He was a nobody living life with money but no substance. Bastard.
So there she went. He heard her move and felt the tension melting somewhat as she took her spot. He stayed in place for a moment, wondering how he could help. Yes, although he felt quite detached from his world and perhaps a bit empty... he began to feel sympathy. Nobody deserved a life so unfit. Nobody needed to live such a horrid existence without some kind of help.
So there he went.
1844. Crimson Swan.
He wasn't much of a wine drinker himself, but one dated that far back? Well he had thought about the detail before, but he wondered what the significance of those old old drinks were again. A wine enthusiast, who often found himself laying in the back of an alleyway, once spoke of old wines as though they were treasures to behold. A certain prestige about them held in his eyes as it send him into a blackened slumber with a grin from sea to sea.
So... using the cork screw that he almost forgot to grab... Pop.
"Not poor, certainly." He responded, attempting to provide some humor to the conversation.
A trickling poured into glass as he filled it mostly and moved to Ines's side. From this angle, Franz had perhaps exposed himself to her, but she was a woman in need of something and that something came in the form of a universally used creation which served the purpose of bringing joy through borderline poisoning. With the glass in his hand, he presented it roughly in front of her. She had asked him not to look and so he did not.
Once it was in hand he moved to the door to ensure it was secure. The lock being in place gave them the privacy they had earned and as he took his place in the water he settled quietly after a long, drawn out, satisfied, steam released sound of a train taking its place in station.
His hand extended to her, and that was what Ines could note while she saw a hand extend from her back. It threw her for a curve, certainly, for what came with the distinct pop of a wine bottle's cork did leave her with many a question. Yet, what she saw was a wine glass specifically for her, and for what she had now...that's what she needed. A drink, good company, and a good bath. The war could wait. She had better things to do.
Ines snickered with Franz's approach to humor, taking the glass gently from his palm. She took a brief sip, admiring the smoothness of the rich red wine. It didn't burn at all on the way down; whatever Franz had must have been at least 10 years old. Where on earth did he find this little treasure?
"I wanted to be an opera singer." Ines revealed, smiling as she sighed,
"But being a Darcsen in entertainment never works out as well as you hope."
Franz smiled at the thought. A singer? She must have had some passion for it. There was much he wanted to do and he knew what she meant, or at least thought he did, when she mentioned how hard it was to be a dark hair in the industry. Even if they accepted you there was no way they were putting you where the public could see you. There was even the dirty move of people stealing your art without any protections. It truly was a dark world for Darcsen but...
It was strange. Simply staying in the bath and taking a sip of his own glass made him feel... no. It wasn't the bath or even the alcohol that he was now trying to get used to... No what he was feeling... It was Ines. It was the raw feeling of having someone who resonated with you. It was the Darcsen- no- person by your side. This moment was special and...
A smile. From his marble hard face did there finally come from the chiseled mouth a cracked smile with a twitch from how wide it was. His face wasn't used to it and it borderline hurt, but... It was a smile. And there was... happiness? He had to continue.
"I believe I understand what you mean. It may be a bit rude of me to ask, but can you show me? I'd love to hear the Valkyrie within."
In the midst of his request, Ines happened to be taking a sip from her wine, and from his request, she nearly expunged the drink she had in her mouth with a near-audible gasp. Nobody had really ever asked her to sing, before. Nevermind within a bath, of course, but Ines could seldom believe what she had heard escape from the man's lips. Almost double-checking, she instead, in an attempt to calm herself, sipped and sipped from her glass, until naught was left of the smooth, rich liquid, And while she partook in the pleasures of a fine drink, she, then could partake in the joy of a job well done, it seemed; The joy to perform.
She reached back, handing the empty glass back to Franz, naturally asking for a gracious refill of her drink. It was hidden from his view, of course, yet Ines bore a blush from Franz's request in sheer flattery of the notion, instead masking it with a more cold demeanor from which she could begin to prepare a song.
"Give a refill, will you?" Ines asked, just after clearing her throat for her performance. As soon as her glass was gone, she slowly cleared her throat, the tapping of her finger along the bath's rim keeping in tempo with her signature.
"Love me as though there were no tomorrow~"
"Take me out of this world tonight~!"
"Take me~!"
"Make me forget my sorrow,"
"So when I wake tomorrow, I'll know our love was right."
"Kiss me as though it were now of never~"
"Teach me all that a heart should know~"
"Love me... as though there were no tomorrow~"
"Oh my darling~, love me; don't ever let me go~."
Dear lord...Ines' voice was...it was simply a harmonic joy to behold. Like the Valkyrie Franz proclaimed her to be, Ines took to full song, in perfect pitch and harmonious song, like each word which rolled from her was a rolling red wine, sweet and aged to perfection. No doubt it resounded throughout the room, and beyond that room perhaps, but alas, this incantation was special, angelic, and reserved for Franz alone.
"Kiss me as though it were now or never~"
"Teach me all that a heart should know~"
"Love me as though there were no tomorrow;"
"Oh, my darling, love me~"
"Don't ever let~...me go~"
Franz gently took the glass as it was presented to him, placing down his own of that refined taste to give her a fresh batch. The tapping on the bath was distracting for the moment. It made him question just what she was doing before he heard it begin.
The very moment he heard her voice he stopped dead in his tracks. He didn't know what it was at first. It certainly didn't sound like what he expected- It eclipsed it. He- He had no words. He had nothing but a loose grip that he had to correct before he spilled the glass and bottle everywhere. Was she a siren? Was she an angelic figure from beyond in those tales those pious men and women told? What was this but- but some kind of mythological tale come sprung to life?
Whatever numbness there was... it was gone. It was as though she had cured him. It was as though her voice climbed into his soul and pulled it out from the cold desolate coffin it rested in and brought it into a world of unspoken light. There was... nothing like this. It had even registered just now that she chose to sing- and for him. She heeded his request and what he got from muttering but mere words was a crusade of the blades to collect the fallen. My god... Franz had never been one to believe but surely a god must have existed to create such perfection and his body agreed with shivers he had never thought of feeling and a burning desire to face the exalted one.
When she stopped the pouring, albeit slowly, began again. It took a while for him to even hand her the drink as he still gawked at what was still flowing in his mind with a warmth he couldn't imagine but moments prior. Gently he returned her the glass she desired. His breathing was different and his heart rate had increased. He had to adjust to not trip over himself, but an impressed voice came out all the same.
"I... What words could describe such a performance? Is this what it was like to be tied to the mast of a ship while agonizingly listening to the siren's call? Ines- I... I don't know what to say- it's beautiful."
His words would be flattering to anyone, nevermind the woman sharing his presence in a bath. Ines couldn't help but blush, and this time, her distinctive Francian laughter - however muffled it was as she rose a hand to her mouth - couldn't have been muted in any shape or form. Franz could not see it from his angle, but he could sense Ines was clearly a bit embarrassed by his applause at her performance. Not in the sense that it was a dismissal, mind you; That it was something Ines herself knew she worked hard, and to receive recognition from it, no matter whoever from...that was what mattered in this moment. While the two were together, Ines smiled. She found the circumstance strange - that she bathed with a man she had barely known and began to undertake in their deepest secrets together with the magical alluding of one glass of wine - but questioned it little. Strange, it was, but what was life without a bit of curiosity to it?
Taking a sip from her newfound glass, she almost peeks back at Franz, suddenly remembering her own imposed rule. It almost felt rude not to reciprocate his notion with eye contact, yet Ines felt it best to resignate to what she had suggested to begin with. Instead, she continued her laughter, smiling all the way.
"It is nothing special." She insisted,
"What about you? Franz, what did you want to do with yourself?"
Franz couldn't answer immediately. He found it impossible to as he mostly fought himself in looking and wanting to touch from her call. Deepest desires of his heart ripped out from the darkness. Funny that. He remembered her rule and being able to adhere to an imposed rule, self or not, was important to Franz. So he took time to finally respond and after a bout of silence he spoke.
"I... I found passion in art. I loved stories of mythology. More than anything I... just wanted to make people happy. I wanted to see the people I loved smile. I wanted people to feel something from anything I shared with them especially if I was the one who made it. I don't think there is anything greater than that. But what I have done is truly nothing special. Your modesty is a suit bursting from the seams."
Ines couldn't help but laugh at his attempts at modesty. She took yet another sip, then asked:
"What do you like to draw?"
"Anything, really. I used to paint for others. Dogs, the hillside of a village, even a naked noble who wanted to remember what she looked like in her youth. I was constantly under pressure on that one. Not allowed to look but also not allowed to fail a stroke otherwise they would have paddled me. A damned situation. Yet, with what glances I managed I satisfied that patron as well. If I'm allowed to paint - I will."
Ines couldn't help but be charmed by it. She never figured Franz to be a painter, not one bit. Yet, it was almost...poetic? The exact word was a bit difficult to come by, yet she simultaneously was surprised by Franz's revelation that he was a painter, and as soon as he mentioned it, it all came into view and make perfect sense. Perhaps...well, maybe not now.
She took another gulp from her glass. She already had a glass from downstairs, mind. Another one wasn't anything, and even so, the intricacies that were her exact process were getting a bit blurry. To Ines, she was in a little blissful warm paradise with another person, enjoying the company. It was nice, truth be told. Like nothing really mattered. Like she could almost take a break from it all. And...well, who was she kidding? Just now, Ines was taking a breath from the bloodshed and drudgery that was the life of the soldier. Now was the time to let her hair down and relax.
"What did you paint?" she asked.
His mind stuttered for a moment at the question, thinking he had answered it. Maybe she was looking for another answer.
"For myself? Or?"
Fuck it, Ines was already thinking sort of in a blurry sense. Before she knew it, her glass was gone, and she just needed another little kick of that sweet goodness...whatever it was Franz was giving her.
"Yeah, for yourself." she responded. For the first time, Franz noted her sounding upbeat. Joyous. Happy, even.
After idly drinking more of his own glass and refilling them both he thought on the question happily.
"Truthfully? I always loved the mythology I read years ago. I made plenty of portraits depicting their histories. But I also enjoy making pictures of others. I haven't even mentioned it to the squad yet, but, I've made one of everyone in my spare time. I've even made one of you. It's a simple portrait, but you've made my day so bright already I thought it would be fair enough to let you in on that secret early."He wanted to look at her badly, especially with how jovial she was, and as he continued to drink that desire became stronger. The taste of the wine also seemed unusually pleasant. 70 years of time gone by for this exact moment. It was waiting for them and Franz was just happy to be a part of this date. Ehehe- a date. It was certainly like one. Everything was just too perfect.
Now, those exact words were pretty alarming, truth be told. "I've made one of you", he says, so nonchalant as if it may as well be no innocuous an event as the turning of the day. It was a sort of naive statement, and in any other condition, Ines may have smacked him for his insubordinate action, but in her current state, she was a bit flattered by his bravery. Hell, truth be told, she may have always been impressed by his honesty in the face of everything else. She did, if anything else, enjoy his talks, and in a way, eagerly awaited his response to every one of her queries.
"'Made one of me'?" she questioned - mind, not in a threatening way - but rather, one of genuine intrigue; Whether that was assisted by her wine intake or not...that was the vague factor. Yet, judging by her tone, that factor itself was inconsequential to what was to happen next.
"May I see?" she asked.
Franz chuckled at the question and responded shortly after thinking for a moment.
"Absolutely, but only on one condition. Since we're both wet and would obviously have to step out for it - I think it's only proper that the artist hold up his prize. And I think it would only be fair if he got to see the living, breathing, reaction of his audience. But - if you can't do that then I guess we'll have to wait until after the bath." There was a small smirk to the end of his statement as though he felt he placed her in his own made up game of chess. What would her king do now?
In spite of his question, Ines still wondered how Franz found himself the time to draw her. Was he, with no doubt, some sort of stalker? Ines doubted it; Even for a Darcsen, Ines herself she believed not to be a figure to behold. Her figure was much too...powerful. Masculine, in a sense. Ines' body was honed from a life of attempting to survive from fight after fight until she gave in, and the result was a woman honed in muscle in definition that was a far cry from the petite standards of Francian beauty. Ines herself did not believe anyone would want an Amazon, as did the old adage go. Yet still did she attempt her way through life, convinced that her luck was bound to happen sooner or later.
Still, it was impossible to truly hide that she remained unflattered by Franz's attempts at depicting her. That corporeal curiosity to her got the best of any sense of decency, so she had to ask:
"...can I see?"
She failed to be dissuaded, it seemed. The Imperial-Gallian was surprised. However, the show must go on.
It was upon thinking of how he talked that he realized just how often he snuck into theatres for cultural enlightenment. It was a pleasure that he could experience, but one he seldom talked to about for he was the only one in the gang interested in the fine arts aside from the old men who were now dead. Shame.
Franz only bothered to dry himself and as soon as he did he placed the towel to the side and dug through his backpack until he found the rolled up portrait that had been handled with care using a metal container within. Each portrait has been layered on top of one another but he found hers quite fine as his memory allowed him to know exactly where it was.
After standing in front of her, keeping his distance in case of a spray of water, he placed his hands upon the scroll that he divided through shifting how it was rolled to split from the center.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Herr Blau presents 'Ines Levesque'"Then there it was. He held it to his side as though he was presenting an award winning painting to an audience standing at the grandest of theatres. And as she laid witness upon it he locked his eyes onto her face with a hopeful expectation.
As for the drawing itself... It was... rather perfect. Down to strands of hair and the exact curvature of her nose he collected each detail and recreated a stern, bold, portrait of a woman in uniform. It was a little more than a bust portrait really and one that only covered her from head to the mid range of her torso where it faded into the color of the white canvas. She looked directly at the observer, an illusion created from practice and study. Her form was somewhat relaxed, but there was that hint of readiness in her body in case she had to spring into action. It seems he even took the liberty of placing a copy of the smoking stick she gave him in her hand that was cocked back holding it like a cigarette holder. Her arm was brought back to match a more iconic fashion pose and her sleeve upon that arm was folded back to expose some of her muscle.
"My mind can remember a fair amount of details of others. I don't know how to describe it, but it is an ability I've been able to use when I think to draw. It doesn't last forever, so I try to work fresh."
That moment...Ines herself had not the words to describe it.
"Flattery" was but the tip of the iceberg. Franz had, in such detail, painstakingly inscribed every detail of her being into his portrait, no matter her observation nor protest, and instead created an iconic figure of which Ines was almost perfectly represented in canvas. She knew not how Franz so delicately copied her mechanisms, nor her demeanor or actions, yet still found herself inscribed - entranced, dazzled, bewildered - by the figure of which Franz had put on display. It was truly beautifying, really; As if Ines herself knew what she could stand to represent, that figure of strength and testimony when she herself preached lessons she had yet to truly decipher.
She instead looked upon it with certain gaze, miring its slight curvature as she looked the inscription up and down. Why...it was as if Ines felt herself met away under what Franz perceived her as. For what may as well have been the last time, Ines felt not fear. She felt certainty, confidence. Acceptance in a world which wanted her death warrant.
And rather than accept his attempt at another pouring of her glass, Ines instead boldly took a sip straight from the bottle, reaching across in deadpan fashion as she knew exactly what it was she had to face.
"Did...wow." Ines saluted,
"...did you...hehe."Ines smirked, almost raising herself from the tub as she looked over it, bottle in hand. She was getting herself tipsy, as she imagined her mother to, but Ines could have cared less. This was naught but proper resignation from her work.
"...Need to draw me like one of your Imperial girls?" she offered.
Ines was tipsy to the brim, of course, but she could have given a damn. She was with someone important - someone who understood - that was what mattered now.
Her reactions were everything he hoped to hear and more. He expected a bit of satisfaction but her entranced feelings towards the project had been the result he had been looking for. He tried to capture the details as best as he could remember and that was far more than others. He was thankful for that ability for it gave him an advantage others didn't seem to have. Then she... offered?
She... wanted to be painted? She would pose? For him? Really? Even with her own sensitivity toward the situation she wanted to give that up? For him? He blushed at the notion, finding her lack of reluctance was- he didn't know how to describe it but it wasn't a regular feeling of joy it was... something else. He pressed his lips together as he thought for a brief moment and nodded thereafter.
"I'd be happy to."
She supposed she was doing this, now. It was a strange experience, for certain, and nothing Ines had any familiarity with aside from some pompous image crafted in her head of a woman laying upon a bed as if it were some sort of romance scene. Not like Ines wasn't used to people watching her - those with stage freight didn't fare well in the ring while fighting - but this was with even less clothing on than she already thought was bare-bones during that time. Hell, the number of people she had been with could be counted on one hand, and Ines knew she conformed to few traditional standards of beauty. Yet, there were first times for everything, and even now, she thought the stance over in a strange sense; posing for art was unthinkable, but fighting in a war? No problem.
Emerging from the tub, any definition she had laid out before was, if now more than ever before, shattered completely. The alcohol was to thank in no small part; even so, Ines wasn't averse to new experiences. Ines herself knew she was no leaflet girl for newspaper advertisements. Far too toned, Ines instead had the build of a true Amazon, chiseled from her own experiences since the age of 13, in her own words. Not to say Ines had not feminine features, mind you, yet what was before Franz was clearly a brimming display of health. It was almost inspiring, truly, that her nude form inspired sensations other than the erotic.
And in that moment, Ines broke her stone-faced demeanor, flush red with color as she smiled from the embarrassment. It took confidence to so boldly rise from the bath and strike a pose, hand behind the head and arm on hip, in some sort of attempt to appear attractive, true, but that crumbled before long as she laughed from the exposure. In a sense it was exciting, like Ines wasn't supposed to be doing it. If her mom knew what she was doing, for as loose as she was, Ines didn't know if she would throw a fit or congratulate her on finding a man. Likely both.
"W-what do I do?" Ines asked through iterative chuckles, barely able to hide her red-flushed face from the awkwardly amusing experience before her.
Every moment was precious. The way she stood up and accepted the moment, the way she stopped after a brief moment of remembering what she was doing, and just asking him what to do. He dug through his supplies shortly after, pulling out what he needed piece by piece.
"I want you to take a pose that you want to remember. Something that says something of who you are. Bring life to the canvas. I will need you to be still, so if you want to lay down or stand up make sure it is in a position you can hold."
Ines giggled at the response, putting her head down as she shook for just a moment.
"Shit, i'm going to need some more wine for this..." Alcohol confidence really did help her simply
be, all things considered, but she knew it wasn't likely the best thing for sitting still. But in a situation like this, being completely still was the last thing on her mind. But hell, if she did this right, she might be moving around a lot more.
Taking a deep swig from the bottle, Ines sighed with laughter as she resumed a position directly across from Franz. Heeding his words, she attempted to stand in the same pose she had originally - one hand on her head, the other on her hip, slightly turned while she looked upon him.
("GOOD GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD DON'T STARE DON'T STARE DON'T YOU FUCKING STARE INES LEVESQUE I SWEAR TO GOD") As her thoughts raced while catching the odd glance down at Franz, well...it was commendable she possessed the basic will to hold her pose for as long as she had. If that did nothing to stop her incessant chuckling and beat-red face.
Franz had taken a moment to shift his feet as he looked for another piece. Hmm... Now that wasn't where it was. It would be easier if he just put his feet parallel. So he did. Going from his lower position he spread feet and spread the backpack wide, squatting slightly on his toes as he saw what he was looking for and dipped into a controlled position where he pulled out the utensils he was looking for.
As he pulled away from the backpack he- he felt that energetic boy from years ago! He turned to her with a bounce, taking the moment to stretch out his body in various poses. "Alright- so- I'm jus-t stretching out to get a better- grip as I'll be doing this for a while. Al-right!"
With that small exercise out of the way and a tin cup placed half filled with water and a rag set off to the side he was ready. He was giddy, really! This had turned out to be such a special moment and- and- he was happy! Unreasonably so! As he set up the canvas and put together piece by piece of the stand. That thin frame was all that stood between Franz and his object of study. The sounds of a march melted into his ears and suddenly his feet began to move to the sounds he heard before.
He looked at Ines and closed an eye for a brief moment to make sure he had the perfect idea what she looked like as he took this snippet of information to start at her head. Chin into the rest of the jawline while stopping to make room for her hair. he kept to one singular color with thin strokes but he felt like there just wasn't- there just wasn't enough movement!
His legs followed after his feet and not long after that his hips began to make their own bounces. He even synchronized a minor thrust to the sound of a loud drum in his head. Now this! This felt better! Despite his more drunken state now weighing in on him he found his ability to render unhindered. He finished the line art of her face and hair without too much time gone by and soon after he lowered himself slightly instead of choosing to adjust the stand. Neck! Shoulders! Collar bone! Stomach! Chest! Chest! Chest. Uh-ches-um...
He slowed down as something seemed to snap in his head. His bouncing became a bit less wild and the red upon his cheeks rivaled that of a tomato as blood left his brain and blinking became more rapid. He continued to work but- his eyes were a bit more open as he tried to remember himself! Franz! Get a grip!
("GOD. FUCKING. DAMMIT. FRANZ. STOP. BOUNCING. THAT. THING. AROUND. FUCK. DAMN. FUCK. OH FUCKING FUCK THAT THING'S BIGGER THAN A BAYONET HOW DOES HE FIT A SNAKE INTO HIS PANTS.")Was Ines dead? Was any of this real? Was some guy really just flopping around in front of her while she just couldn't keep in how frankly ridiculous the whole situation just *was?* Ines certainly couldn't keep a straight face if she tried. A dead-set smile filled her face, giggling, cackling, barely able to keep anything together. The cold, stoic, cold beauty Franz knew not an hour ago had melted away entirely, and beneath lay a woman wondering much the same as her sober contemporary, yet with a more jovial expression - Just how the fuck did she get here?
...not like she was complaining. The view was nice.
Ines knew right where Franz eyes were. They darted back, sure, but it was painfully obvious where they were darting back to. His face turning red hid him nothing, as much as dressing up in a jester's gaudy uniform might assist a soldier in camouflage. She grinned ear to ear, threatening to erupt into a roar of hilarity.
"So you like my tits, huh." She clearly slurred, trying her absolute best not to rupture the roof with laughter.
Franz couldn't take it. After all that had happened he burst out into laughter at her question! Knees buckled for a moment as he put his wrists on the outside of his thighs. He drank his cup of wine like water before coming back to the canvas and giving an audible grunt into his response.
"Agh! They just look perfect! Sorry!"He couldn't help it and the strain he was feeling lower down wasn't helping anything. He pressed his lips together as he grinned wide at her.
"I just have to look for this art piece, shame that's all I can do with them." He clearly wasn't thinking about what potential repercussions there were to saying such things and at this point he really didn't care. He readjusted himself and, yes, continued doing some bouncing as he hummed and slashed across the white canvas which was slowly but surely coming to life.
"You asshole."Ines broke out into a roar of laughter, nearly crumbling down to the floor as she keeled over from his response. This was just precious. Priceless. Just priceless.
"...it's okay, I like them too."
Franz had to stop as she fell to the floor. He put his utensils down and moved to press his back against the tub as he felt more of the alcohol slamming into him. He laughed a bit more as he listened to her break down.
"Thank you. I'm just- I'm just happy you're here An- Wait a minute weren't you looking?" Franz asked, thinking about how she was blushing and laughing more at the situation as he fell to his side.
Oh boy. Ines was guilty. Guilty as sin, and boy was she sinning. She would have preferred to go out by smoking wads of opium off a woman's chest while she was at it, but alas, this little drunken escapade would have to do. And certainly, was it *doing.* Ines barely contained her laughter, no longer in any artistic pose originally presented toward Franz, and instead now simply honed in on his one simple query:
"Well, since we're already doing this, yes. I looked at your dick. It's a very nice one, too."
Franz resigned to laying on his side like he was some kind of model as she explained herself to him. He loved this. He loved all of this. Caught up in the moment and the only thing that mattered was having someone who didn't even take the responses he gave with such offense that she left him alone... It was- amazing. All of it.
"Thank you. When I see something so beautiful I can't stop it from waking up. This is... I'm glad you're here." He was still bubbly, that much was clear, but he didn't want to drive her away and so briefly he looked away.
"Are we going back to the no looking rule?"
"I don't know...I like this new 'Looking Rule'."She smiled slightly, and asked;
"Franz...are you thinking what i'm thinking?"
"I like it too."Franz crawled toward her, smiling as well before misplacing his hand along the way and smacking his face into the floor like a klutz. He gave an audible sign of pain and rolled onto his back. He rubbed his face for a moment and looked up at her with a short chuckle.
"Well - aside from how much that hurt - I'm looking at what I'm thinking of and I think you know it too."
Ines met Franz down on that floor, and climbed on top of him.
"Then let's stop wasting time, boy." She announced.
... ...
...
...
... ..."YES! YEESS! OOHHH FFUUCCK YESS FRANZ! OOHHH FFUUUUCCK! OOH!"Clearly, the two were having the time of their life in that dainty little inn floor, in the middle of a combat zone, in an island of neutrality where a stray artillery shell could land at any moment, and in spite of that, the two found comfort in each other's company. Truly, it was like magic.
Nothing was quite like this. He knew for sure it wasn't the alcohol and the motions left him absolutely stunned with every moment. It was as if they had managed to create their own little world in the privacy of a bathroom near an active war zone. Despite all that was known sub consciously there he couldn't even care! He could barely think as it was anyway! Ines was right here with him and together they shared this moment with no strings attached.
After some time there was nothing left. The dance had been concluded and the curtains closed on the show before the audience after a lengthy performance. As they came to a close and with the performers now laying upon the floor, Franz took it upon himself to come closer to her once again and, without warning, began to cuddle up to her, finding her warmth so cozy and soft.
"Oh Ines, you were perfect." He stated, a slur escaping his mouth as he closed his eyes while pressed against her.
By the time they were done, Ines was more than a bit out of breath. She panted on that floor, half a tub and half a drawing around her, splayed out while her companion nudged close to her. She took him into his arms, wrapping herself around in turn, their gentle warmth reciprocated. That feeling of being close to another...held. Known. Like you matched together. It wasn't anything Ines had experienced, not for some time. In a brutal, irrational world of violence and hate, there was just this little moment they could share together. Just one moment was all she needed, and...everything was a bit more clear. For the fuzz that permeated her head, it almost blocked it all out, and in thankful blurriness of that surrounding, Ines appreciated just who was with her.
She barely knew the man. He was naught but a curiosity, just a little thing to keep the time going. And yet...they had their little moment together.
Ines nuzzled up to his neck, planting a kiss on his neck.
"I had fun, hon'." she reciprocated,
"You're...quite something, Franz."Of course, alcohol still had its hold in spite of the adrenaline rush of their activity. And if Ines had a little bit to keep the edge off, then hell, for whatever she had of it, she was getting it all while it lasted. Just one second it came, and as she knew by now, it was warm one second, then suddenly gone. She looked back at Franz, still with that tipsy little grin of hers, and smiled.
"You wanna get another girl in on this? I've never had half-and-half before...I think i'd be fun." she suggested.
Franz was so happy. The hold that she willingly had to him left a memory that ingrained itself like the roots of a tree to the soil of the world. He listened to her heart beat and felt comfort in listening to every single beat. He loved it... maybe even her. It wasn't much time at all and yet they went from being strangers to feeling so unreasonably close in under a day. Her kiss.. oh he wouldn't forget that feeling. He felt safe with that kiss. He felt like a gap had been closed. Her compliment, her comments, and her continued support... He felt like the happiest man alive. The real world didn't exist anymore. It was just them. Well, until she mentioned bringing yet another into their fold. But Franz was so happy with spending time with her that he didn't mind it at all. He welcomed it entirely because it would have been more time spent with her.
"Anything you want, Ines. I'll be right here."
("Whoa...I think...I like this guy.")She couldn't really believe it herself. Then again, she was proposing that Franz have what would be the best experience in his entire life just now, of her own volition. Damn. There needs to be a medal for something like this. The "Madeline Morale Medal", or something like that. At that rate, Ines rose from him, throwing on only her superficial garments - pants and jacket. Anything else was just more to take off later, in her eyes.
"Be riiiigght back~." she promised him, off on her search to find the fabled third.
