Chapter 101 Assist.

"Charmed," the man said, extending a hand, the sequins on his suit flickering. "Are you enjoying the show?"

"Very! Is it true Loris Lynch keeps his studio here?"

"Indeed," the man said. "Some of his art can be difficult to move. Plus, he says that the place feels good to be in. Allows easy access to observe the reactions to his work." He gave her a long look, smiling. "Would you like to see it?"

"Can I?" Ava gasped. "Won’t Mr. Lynch object?"

"I think he’d be alright with it."

"Ava!" Ireen cried, grabbing her friend’s arm. "Here you are. I was looking for you. You’ve got to see this thing with a pipe that’ says it’s not really a..."

Ava had never known her friend to be at a loss for words, but Ireen’s jaw had grown slack as she stared at the man before them.

"Friend of yours?" the man said.

"Yes, this is Ireen. Ireen? This is... um..."

"My friends call me-"

"Loris Lynch!" Ireen gasped.

"Where?" Ava said, looking about quickly.

The man in the jacket cut a small bow. "In the flesh," he said, mustache quivering with his smile. "And I must say, what a pleasure it is to have two such lovely young women admiring my work."

"Oooh."

Ava looked with surprise at Ireen. The sorceress was actually swooning! The witch had taken off her pointy hat and was fanning herself with it, smiling in giddy excitement.

"W-well, I don’t know if I’d say lovely," Ireen said, unconsciously primping her hair.

"Please! My dears, I’m an artist! Seeing beauty is my stock and trade. In fact, perhaps you both could help me with something..."

"Of course!" Ireen gasped. "Anything for art!"

"Marvelous," Loris said, sidling behind them, grasping their shoulders and giving both elf and witch a winning smile. "Then, shall we?"

Ava allowed herself to be led out of the gallery, past more sculptures whose dimensions seemed to contort against reality and good taste, and into a back hall where two security guards stood posted beside the doors. Evidently, Loris was known for bringing women back, as they didn’t impede them, and one even opened the door to admit them through.

Loris Lynch’s studio looked out over the city’s rooftops and cobbled streets through a trio of enormous skylight windows. It was a view intermittently obstructed by smoke from the museum’s chimney, but no less breathtaking for it. There were tables covered with paint pots and brushes, stacks of canvases, heaps of half-formed clay, a paint-spattered piano, and a variety of chemicals suggesting Lynch’s fascination with printing techniques for possible mass production.

Strewn among the trappings of an artist were a variety of odd relics and random debris like seashells, water damaged manuscripts, burnt clothing, and along one back wall of the studio, an enormous, hollow, partially deconstructed plaster statue of a naked woman now overturned onto its side. The statue’s pert breasts were decorated with dozens of red handprints, and Ava imagined Lynch daubing his hands in paint and fondling the colossus.

"Everything represents something else though, my dear," Lynch explained, continuing his conversation with Ireen from the hallway. "Every object contains a double or triple meaning. That hat? Imprisons dreams. That sagging sofa over there? A hundred nights of pleasure. Your skirt? Oh, but I see you blush, my dear. I assure you I will not divulge its secrets."

"So what does the tea kettle represent?" Ava asked, holding up a brass kettle.

"That, my dear," Lynch said, taking the kettle from her, "represents a hot cup of tea. Why don’t you two make yourselves... hmmmmm, comfortable while I brew a pot. I have some Ulthar Green that will help put us in the mood. There are robes over there if you feel self-conscious."

"You want us to take our clothes off?" Irene asked, her eyes widening slightly. "Ava, what—"

Irene’s words seemed to die on her lips as she saw that the buxom elf was already nearly undressed, freeing her plush breasts and shimmying her trousers down to her knees. Ava froze as if she had been caught in the act and blinked at her friend.

"What is it?" Ava asked.

"N-nothing, never mind," Irene said. She sighed and began to part the laces on her bodice.

Ava and Ireen were nude by the time Lynch returned with a tea tray, three steaming cups, and a plate of dry biscuits.

"Ah! Yes, yes, wonderful. Lovely. My inspirations are flowing already." He circled around Ava and Ireen before setting the tea tray down on a low table. He picked up a painter’s palette and a large brush. "Please, help yourselves. Enjoy the tea. I will prepare my canvas."

Ava picked up one of the steaming cups of tea and gave it a sip. She usually enjoyed some cream in her tea, but this was phenomenal. It buzzed on her tongue with a pleasant but unusual sweetness and when she swallowed the warmth spread far beyond her tummy. She drank, unashamed of her nudity, while Ireen sipped and stood by while looking longingly at one of the robes draped over the back of a threadbare chaise.

Ava watched Lynch selecting an enormous canvas without a frame, almost like a ship’s sail in size. He set it flat upon the floor, securing its corners with various objects that seemed to have no significance, but when placed created a certain humming gestalt. Black racks with red veins, an eroded idol from a lost civilization, flowers that bloomed in unnatural shades of green, and carved tiles that bore the marks of non-human artisans. Placed just so, those objects filled Ava with a floating sensation as if she were being carried along by an unseen river. She found herself standing at the edge of the canvas without remembering walking over to it.

"Ah, my lovelies, good! Did you enjoy the tea?" Lynch asked.

Ava and Ireen exchanged a giggling glance, their moods suddenly effervescent and at ease. Lynch clapped his hands and the sound crackled through Ava’s body to a pleasant, throbbing warmth in her core. She felt like a tuning fork, vibrating with every sound, even those beyond her range of hearing.

"Wonderful," Lynch cried. "Then we begin! Ah, I wish for you to step upon the canvas and embrace."

"Like this? Like a hug?" Ava said, draping her arms around Ireen in a friendly manner.

"No, no, more intimate," Lynch said, gesturing as if he might move them closer together with his waving hands. "Intertwine. Combine. Create a knot of flesh. Writhe upon my canvas. Here, let me assist you..."