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The Gamer Chapter 1396 – Fluffy Monday Awakens 1 – The Atelier
🕑 Added 2023-02-27 17:44:27 +0000 UTCEliana’s atelier was located in the north-west of the Commercial District. Like the buildings around it, it was a spacious piece of property. White walls rose up to a blue ceiling. Friendly colours, nearly universal to the area. Where they were changed out, their place was taken by alternatives that were equally welcoming.
The curtains behind the large windows were all closed. The doormat in the entranceway was pitch black, the words ‘FUCK OFF’ rising in white, capitalized letters. Chuckling, the Gamer opened the Guild Hall console and unlocked the door in front of him.
There was no real reason for him to get into the atelier this way, when he had a perfectly fine teleporter on the second floor. It simply had struck his fancy to take the on-foot route to get to his first haremette of the day to accompany for a little bit. He hadn’t decided on a firm order either, he would just surprise them.
The inside of the atelier was dark. Dark, not just due to the little light that made it through the blackout curtains. The walls were painted black and deep blue. The bare stone floor was covered in blotches and splatters of paint. Everything about the main room was pure chaos, canvases and other half finished projects scattered about the place. A segment of the floor was even covered in a picture that looked like it had been painted just with Eliana’s feet, although it had been abandoned long before it took a shape that halfway resembled anything with certainty.
The artist herself was nowhere to be found.
John scratched the back of his head. ‘I’m still not sure if I should be worried about her creative process or if this is less than a sign of her mental issues and more of artists just being crazy in general.’ His eyes fell on a wrecked bucket of paint that had clearly been kicked across the room and left to ‘bleed out’. The paint had dried days ago.
Even that brought him no way closer to his answer. He had known and expected it to continue that Eliana’s self-deprecation manifested in anger when she was on her own. To cure her entirely of this lack of self-esteem was the work of at least one lifetime. Until then, this seemed as healthy a way as there was to deal with it.
The actual artwork his eyes fell on was brilliant. There was a finished depiction of Velka, lowering her beak to pick up a golden amulet. Although painted, it captured the motion and appearance of the bird-cat with more accuracy than any camera ever could have. From the scruff to her tail feathers, everything was brilliant in its details.
Similarly brilliant pieces of art stood on the various canvas-holders, in varying states of completion. One of them, an attempt to draw the mask that took the place of Thana’s face when they fought, had the words ‘I hate myself’ written over it in red strokes repeatedly.
‘Now that I can’t leave like that.’ John grabbed a brush and found some bright colour. In gold, he proceeded to write, in big letters, ‘I love you’. He didn’t put a signature under it. She would understand.
With that little good deed done, to be reinforced later with lots of cuddles and kisses, he turned his attention to his actual first target of the day. His ears picked up the soft sound of the Ave Maria ringing through the room. He followed it into a corridor, walked past a chaotic storage room and a clean kitchen. Then, he opened a door and stepped into another building.
Proverbially, that was. The pleasant song caressed his ears, as he closed the door behind himself. The walls in this room were covered in shelves, filled with different kinds and colours of string, yarn, and fabric. Everything was ordered perfectly. Perhaps even a bit too perfectly, with the additional space each segment was afforded for the sake of aesthetics alone.
The curtains here were closed too. A factor that obstructed John’s vision as little here as it did over in Eliana’s part of the building. Even less did it affect the woman who was standing in front of a mannequin.
Carefully, Lorelei added and removed needless from the nun’s outfit she was working on. The doll and the seamstress had the exact same proportions, just another convenience of using magic in craftsmanship. Neither the dress she was creating nor the grey one she was wearing were at all sexual. Rather, they were quite modest.
“I am honoured to have been chosen first, John.” Lorelei bowed her head in his direction.
John made a relaxing gesture. “I just felt like I’ve not given your work all that much time yet.” He looked around the room again. It wasn’t the first time he was in Lorelei’s workshop, but compared to the others he had certainly visited it irregularly. “It’s been a pretty busy time since you joined the harem, all things considered.”
“All the happier I was for the vacation.” Lorelei took the habit off the nun’s outfit and sat down on a stool. They had all agreed that John visiting shouldn’t interfere with what they were doing. A large part of why he was doing this was to see them work their daily tasks, after all. “My life has been hectic these past two years. Your appearance created ripples.”
“Never a restful day for a seer,” John thought out loud and grabbed a chair. He sat down opposite of Lorelei. Close enough to casually talk, but not close enough to bother her in her work.
Lorelei reached for a rollable table that she had nearby. On it was a selection of her most used tools. Simple black yarn was picked up and expertly threaded into a needle. Lorelei proceeded to stitch a couple of decorations into the white band at the forehead part of the nun’s habit. Once she was done with one part, she bit the remaining string, cutting it with her teeth.
It was such a simple and yet unexpected gesture. Lorelei did it with her usual grace. That only added to John’s surprise. “Did something upset you?”
“I just find it strangely alluring to see you do that,” the Gamer confessed.
Lorelei tilted her head. Her second sight seeped into his soul, tried to understand what he himself didn’t entirely understand. There was nothing fundamentally appealing about watching a seamstress cut yarn with her teeth. It wasn’t the proper way to do things, but since this was her personal project, that part didn’t bother John.
“It’s just the contrast. You’re usually so careful,” he said and looked at her long and carefully. “I don’t know you that well at all, do I?”
“You know what matters.” Lorelei stood up and placed the habit back on the mannequin, before walking to John. She stopped in front of him. “May I?” He patted his lap, giving tacit agreement. Once she was seated on him, arms wrapped around his neck for stability, she continued, “You’re in a doubtful mood, since yesterday?”
“Yes, but that’s besides the point. I’m here to observe your work.”
“Honoured Gamer, seeing to the wellbeing of the Lady’s chosen is the most vital of all my tasks.” Gently, she placed a hand on his cheek. “To see to your wellbeing is my dearest wish as your woman.”
John hummed and placed a kiss on her lips. What he was currently feeling, it was not something he deemed could be cleared by talking. Her presence was the greatest help he could have asked for. Feminine and supportive, she lay in his arms, ready to face the difficulties of the world with him.
He picked her up and placed her back on her stool. “Keep showing me what my woman can do,” he requested with a smile. “That’s the best remedy for my current doubts.”
“If you say so, John.” Even as Lorelei bowed her head, her foot cheekily bumped against his. The challenge was taken up and the Gamer bumped back. She responded with twice the original force.
Within seconds, they were in a foot-slap fight. Her stocking-clad soles smacked against his simple socks. At some point, he could not quite say, they both started to laugh. It was such a silly thing to do, and yet they were doing it.
“I fucking hate this song, Lore- Oh, hey, John.” Eliana entered the scene with her usual curses. John turned his head and the moment their gazes crossed, the blood mage blushed and looked away. “Asshole keeps coming here, the inconsiderate slut breaker, absolute beaver-emulating cockwaffle.”
“I can hear you,” John stated. He had to hold onto the seat of his chair, to keep his balance while he was half turned and still fencing with Lorelei.
“Good! Dick!” Eliana declared and carried a canvas into the room. “I hate you, get the fuck out of here!” It took not even half a second for her to change her tune. “I’m joking… never leave me… I love you…?” She made uncertain puppy eyes in his direction.
John would have shook his head if he was not in a spoiling mood after seeing that self-hatred earlier. A couple of steps and one canvas getting hooked onto the Companion Cube, he had the pretty little psycho in a princess carry. He looked around and found a small couch, possibly for waiting ‘customers’ (the only customers Lorelei had had so far were other haremettes).
With Eliana on top of him, he sat down and gave her an intense hug. He wanted to compress her little, lovable body into a bundle that he could take with him everywhere, so he would always have pure joy around. Alas, he had to eventually loosen the grip and accept that she was a person. That only made her more lovable in his eyes.
He tickled her belly and she squeaked, “No!” in protest. A hollow word, serving only to motivate, considering she did nothing to actually get away. “Fuck you!” That was just filler, when it came to her.
When he had tickled her to something approximating exhaustion, he made room in his lap for Lorelei to join them. The seer swiftly did. Heavily breathing, Eliana found herself in the middle of casual embraces. “You wished to complain?”
“I… don’t like… the Ave Maria…,” Eliana grumbled and gasped.
“Does me playing my music in my half of the building violate our agreement?” Lorelei wanted to know. “I could request my own bui-“
“Keep your ass in here, you blank-eyed bitch!”
“Glad you two are getting along when I’m not around.” John kissed each of them on the cheek. Their attention turned to the canvas Eliana had brought in. The Companion Cube let it hover in front of them. John’s little arcane extension was rarely useful, but in situations like this it came in handy.
Before him was a picture of Rave and Moira, charging in with golden hair and halo, to attempt to win victory for their faction. It looked like it should be the final blow of that fight, even if reality had ended with an almost mundane uppercut.
What had truly happened put aside, it was a gorgeous work. “Another one for the capitol?” John asked.
“Yes,” Eliana responded, a bit of defeat under her voice. Much like his presence here, her filling the seat of power with her art went against her desire to curl up in a ball and never be seen by anybody ever again. Which was why John had her do it and also why she kept doing it. Miserable as it made her socially, John knew she did actually enjoy having her art seen and appreciated.
“It is gorgeous,” Lorelei commented. “I can sense your intention radiate from every layered stroke of the brush.”
“Fuck off with reading my intentions!”
“I apologize, but this is simply how I perceive reality.”
“Why did you bring it here?” John asked. “Did you want Lorelei’s input? Given the subject matter, that’d be appropriate.”
“No, I wanted her to stitch into the picture.” Eliana wound her way out of the embrace to trace both Rave’s golden hair, fluttering in the wind, and Moira’s steady halo. “The colour’s aren’t quite good enough, I want the gold to REALLY fucking stand out from the background, so I though maybe we could use some golden yarn.”
“Won’t that tear up the canvas?” John asked.
“It’s hemp, should be fine. No fucking idea if it’ll mess with the paint over time, but I fucking hate how fucking inadequate it is right now.”
It was far from inadequate as far as John was concerned. She had been doing artwork for only about two years at this point and she was already at a level that he would have trusted her to perfectly copy the Mona Lisa. Having time, every reason to distract herself, resources, and superhuman control over her motor functions would do that.
“I will happily oblige,” Lorelei said.
Eliana picked up the picture and carried it to a table. John watched them for a little bit, bowed over the picture. The pretty little psycho tried to coax some feedback out of the seer and grew audibly more frustrated when she could only get variances of ‘it looks good’.
John eventually slipped out, smiling.
