velesdonnersen: (Sadness)
[personal profile] velesdonnersen
[He's been worried all day, knowing they've messed things up with Egon, knowing how upset Ilsa is.  He hasn't got her ability to sense feelings, but over time he's begun to pick up her backwash --- her projects have been getting more and more difficult to block out of his awareness.  Today he's been driven half-mad by her misery and guilt.  In return he's been fighting not to pound her with his annoyance at Egon...or his deep sense that Ilsa has nothing to apologize for. Then, late in the day, he feels her feelings spike, hard and unhappy.]

[So he's not exactly surprised when he hears the knock at the door, or senses the hungry need for support. He prowls out of his den, sends Catherine and Perry out to play in the backyard, asks Not!Luka to brew some coffee, and invites "Mrs. Spengler" in.]

Ilsa? Come in, schatzi.  Melusine will be bringing coffee and cookies in just a moment, and we can talk in my den.

Date: 2011-11-16 02:26 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (worried)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
[ Ilsa has a briefcase with her, and is being very rigid in posture and speech. Whatever Tarvek is getting is slipping through her shields. ]

Thank you, I-I need a place to stay tonight. Could I stay in the study?

Date: 2011-11-16 02:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Her posture and attitude leave him unsure if he's welcome. He gestures her in, pure Euro, takes her briefcase, sets it by the hall table, and ginger helps her out of her jacket, before ushering her into the den.]

Liebchen, I am... sorry things went so badly this morning. I'm afraid I am not sufficiently adept, especially where Egon is concerned.

Date: 2011-11-16 02:41 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Shy? Pfft)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
I have managed to convince the drones to stay at their friends' houses tonight, so the house is empty for him. I managed to talk to Peter...

[ She closes her eyes, shaking, before she gets back under control. ]

...and warn him that Egon needed to sleep in the house tonight.

Date: 2011-11-16 02:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Not!Luka comes in with the coffee and cookies. Tarvek walks through the steps of Mayfield etiquette, reminding Not!Luka that "Mrs. Spengler" works with him, that they'll be spending the night in the home office, working late, and not to wait up for him. If Not!Luka was a whole, real person who loved him, the manipulation would make him a bit ill. As it is, it's just the automatic defensive game-playing he grew up with, a constant veil of whatever BS serves to keep minds off of him.]

[When his not!wife leaves, he turns to Ilsa.]

Good. I may find Venkeman difficult to deal with, but he's loyal to Egon. Maybe some time alone, and the knowledge you made the effort, will convince the idiot he's not being attacked. Sweet lightening, but he's...

Eh.

Idiot. He's an idiot.

But you, mein Ilsa...

[Puts arms around her.]

I am so sorry, sweet. It was hard enough having Pyro lost to you, without Egon coming in and proving an insensitive boor with no social skills at all.

Date: 2011-11-16 03:10 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (facepalm)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
I did not get to speak with Egon. Peter warned me off. I think he was joking about physical harm, but... I don't know him well enough to - to know if he would joke about psychological trauma...

[ Ilsa manages to keep things under control until the last of it. ]

I didn't mean to... I wasn't...

[ The rest is lost as she curls in on herself, crying silently. ]

Date: 2011-11-16 03:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Oh, dear. He's trying so hard not to smash her with backwash of his own, but her self-abuse is flipping circuits and blowing out fuses like no one's business. He sweeps her up, and proceeds to coil them both together on the sofa.]

I will kill Venkeman. I will kill him. Idiot madboy pig.

Ilsa, love, you didn't do anything wrong. Egon is a grown man, even older than you. It is not your fault he chooses to operate as though he were a six year-old boy who hates girls and thinks kisses will give him cooties...and whose reaction to two people trying to give him navigating space is to blame them for terrain existing in the first place to navigate in.

[He's quite honestly furious. Part of being hyper-aware, manipulative, and defensive includes recognizing who's actually pushing the levers in a situation. In this case it's Egon, and Ilsa taking the blame enrages him for her sake.]

[He holds her, rocks her, and does all he knows to drown her in a backwash of pure adoration... knowing it's corrupted with his desire to wring Egon and Venkeman's necks, and shake her till she quits blaming herself.]

Date: 2011-11-16 03:51 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Tired)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
[ It takes a while for her to wind down, and calm herself. In doing so, some of it leaks through her shields to him. When she is finally able to breathe normally, she starts to speak, softly. ]

This... situation is...

Do you remember our conversation on Mother's Day? About the things my father's side of the family deals with?

If what Peter told me is accurate, it's my worst nightmare. This is... possibly the horrendous thing that could have happened. Violating two oaths with one conversation. "To do good, or to do no harm" and "An that ye harm none, do as thou will" are tenets I swore to uphold, and apparently they've gone out the window.

[ She falls quiet and tucks her head into his shoulder. ]

Date: 2011-11-16 04:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Picky-picky-picky: what what you say to hyper-rational over-thinking madboys....]

No, technically both oaths focus on failing to do harm, and if they're so loose that they hold you accountable to the degree that you're supposed to be able to second guess idiots who throw themselves in front of your wheels... repeatedly... then the oaths need work, not you.

Ilsa, you were trying, intelligently, to do no harm to Egon. He's the one who insisted on being damaged, to the point of turning your attempt to not-hurt him into a high-impact event.

When the bunny throws itself in front of the horses, don't blame the hooves.

Date: 2011-11-16 04:16 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Tired)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
...still feels like I failed.

Date: 2011-11-16 04:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Wraps her in the only thing he has: he does all he can to make sure his heart is SHOUTING how much he believes she did well and right, and that the failure is not hers.]

[Kisses her temple.]

Want a scotch?

Date: 2011-11-16 04:27 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Tired)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
Yeah, I think I do.

[ She sounds tired. ]

Date: 2011-11-16 04:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Slips up from the sofa, and finds the scotch and glasses, then asks,]

Sorry, do you want it straight up, on ice, or would you like it in a cup of coffee?

[He's collecting everything he might need that is already in the den. He glances, up, and then says, softly,]

You are staying over, aren't you? The drone family won't notice or care, so long as we're not too obvious.

Date: 2011-11-16 10:08 pm (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Hm)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
I'm tempted to just ask for the bottle, but neat will do.

[ Ilsa sighs at his last question. ]

Yes, if you don't mind... I cleared the house so he wouldn't have to deal with anything.

Date: 2011-11-16 10:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[He knows she's sad, but he's pleased. Her distaste for the drones keeps her from his place much of the time, and their moments together are usually in her domain...but he rather likes having her in His Dominion where He Can Take Care of Her. (He really is a terrible Victorian Europan male aristo in some ways.)]

[He pours her a straight shot, puts his own in super-sweet coffee and cream, offers her cookies before taking a substantial handful for himself. He's become insanely fond of peanut butter cookies; so very non-Europan, and so sweet and lovely. He oozes back into the corner of the sofa beside her.]

Giving Egon some space may help... and may, possibly, be enough to make him realize people are making an effort to be supportive.

If not...

Truly, Ilsa, at some point someone has to bend a bit of galvanized steel pipe around that concrete skull of his. If you're not really wanting to, please, please may I? I like the man, but a more selfish, bratty madboy I haven't seen since I...

Since I last dealt with Father.

[Brooding moment, then a long, sip of coffee and a peanut butter cookie inhaled in one munch. If Ilsa is listening, she will know for future reference that there's an un-lanced fester of pain there, centering around his father.]

Date: 2011-11-16 11:38 pm (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Thinking)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
Please don't... there's good there, just that he hasn't developed it yet.

[ She sips the scotch this time, savoring the burn. ]

... tell me?

[ Ilsa leans her head against his shoulder. ]

Date: 2011-11-16 11:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[His conscious mind is focused on Egon. His subconscious is the part that's seriously burbling over Aaronev. Her question first just puzzles him.]

Hmmm? What is there to tell about Egon? He's an idiot, but a classic one. You meet them regularly amongst the higher level of Spark. Father was much of...

Ah.

[It should feel like steel doors crashing shut... which may do no good, given Ilsa's talent: the sorts of shielding Tarvek is used to putting up may be no more use against her talent than closing a glass window would be to block out the view of a sighted person. Inside the slammed doors is a raging mess of fury, multiple layers of grief and loss, resentment, and frantic self-protection. Tarvek loved Aaronev, tried to be a good son to him -- and has absolutely no illusions that the effort was ever going to do any good.]

My father was... what he was. An aristocratic madboy with several obsessions, all of which took precedence over me. Most of which I was expected to serve.

[Spike of misery and frustration.]

Most of which I was designed, created, and born to serve.

He's gone, now. And I'm not in Europa anymore.

That...

I simply...

Ilsa, don't let Egon make you think it's your fault, or that you owe him anything. You did not create Mayfield, or cause them to move Egon into your home. You made every effort to accept him on his own terms, all you asked was that he actually participate actively in making the choice. Only an immature brat could expect you to read him so perfectly, and have so much power, that you could make everything "right" for him while he passively putters with his madboy lab and cleans out your refrigerator.

He doesn't want a lover, he wants a permanent, and amazing mother with divine powers and no ego of her own.

[Yes. He's managed to move back away from Aaronev...but, honestly, Egon *is* of more immediate consequence, as is Ilsa's own misery.]

Date: 2011-11-17 12:03 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Shy? Pfft)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
[ Ilsa just lets him talk himself out. There's more there, she knows, but it took years for hi to build his defenses, it will likely take years for him to not need them anymore. Still, the slamming doors mean the session is closed, for now. She can wait for the next opportunity. ]

[ She chuckles softly at his assessment of Egon. Amazing how so many people had different opinions of the mutual acquaintances. ]

I would have said Egon doesn't notice much outside the lab. And really, I would be happy with a house-mate that doesn't have a problem with my mate staying over on a regular basis.

I did promise, after all.

Date: 2011-11-17 12:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
Exactly. He notices nothing outside the lab, and considers it his right and prerogative... indeed, he even expects the world to make it easy for him to function that way. Ilsa, love, he's angry because something actually demanded he function as an adult in an area in which he has few skills.

However, if he wants to be your chaste housemate, *I* certainly have no overriding objection! [Leers and squeezes her, lovingly.]

You did what you could. Just stop kicking yourself for the fact that Egon, having made that very difficult, is sulking because, good-gracious-sweet-lightening! it's difficult!

Date: 2011-11-17 12:28 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Hm)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
[ She sighs, and tries for a redirect. ]

This does bring up a point, that we haven't finished the tunnel, yet. Or for that matter, your safe room in the basement. Have you had any ideas on that?

Date: 2011-11-17 12:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Mischief and delight!]

Oh, we've been so busy, and so much of your basement was finished, we did lose track, didn't we? With Egon and Venkeman and Ray to help we might do very well proceeding! They and Nall and I can accomplish quite a bit, working together.

[He's very happy. I mean, come on! Sekrit Tunelz! Gosh! His girlfriend has a lair AND sekrit Tunelz!]

Date: 2011-11-17 01:11 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (smile)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
[ ...and that helps more than anything tonight, his joy helps buoy up her mood. ]

Even if we don't need the tunnels for emergencies, I really don't like walking in snow more than occasionally. Since I'm insisting on using local tools and such to dig them, I guess it's unreasonable to limit the work crew to just the two of us.

[ She leans against him. ]

Besides, we get good at this, there's a need for decent contractors here.

Date: 2011-11-17 01:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[He's outrageously amused at the idea of setting up a private contracting company in Mayfield, providing sekrit tunelz, Lairs, and Mad Science Labs...]

[He chuckles, and cuddles her.]

I wonder if Mayfield would let us do it openly?

Date: 2011-11-17 01:52 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Thinking)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
You, they might. [ She says it without acid, but it isn't a defeated tone, either. ] I would still be seen as the secretary, even if I did contribute designs and labor.

[ She leans into the embrace, and relaxes. ]

But that's the town. We have to keep fighting it. If some people see it as making ourselves comfortable, I see it as making it fit me, and not making myself fit the house.

Date: 2011-11-17 02:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[He wishes his freedom was not her prison...and, more, he wishes he knew how to fix Mayfield so that it was a prison for no one -- just a marvelous, secure home for wild imaginations. But right now he's still as bewildered at how to get any traction as anyone.]

I am all in favor of trying to warp Mayfield to suit ourselves, love.

Date: 2011-11-17 02:44 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Shy? Pfft)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
Besides, we keep making alterations, it might distract the powers that be from the investigations. I brought some new notes for you, but the briefcase was mostly to hide a change of clothes for tomorrow.

[ She nudges his shoulder with her head. ]

Another reason to make a space somewhere in the basement, so there's closet space your drones don't see.

Date: 2011-11-17 02:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Chuckles. He does enjoy his beautiful, bodacious woman.]

I'll want to check the notes. Have we gotten any more concrete information about current leadership in The Hidden Mayfield? With Grady gone, we could use some sense of how power flows.

Date: 2011-11-17 02:50 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Smirk)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
Not yet, but still trying to track down some of the names here and there. We know the people that were attached to some of the place names, but not all.

[ She nudges him. ] I've been careful since that morning. But that means not finding much at one time.

Date: 2011-11-17 03:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
(Nod) I'm glad you're being careful, love. But we do want the information.

Is it gathered together in one place? And if it is, are there backup copies?

Date: 2011-11-17 03:24 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Hm)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
There are extra copies for you in the briefcase, and I have a set in my desk in the kitchen. The mimeograph stencils are in my downstairs office.

[ the unspoken thought is she trusts him to be able to break into her house to get anything important out if she's ever permanently droned. ]

Date: 2011-11-17 03:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Oh, he can do that. Yes indeed.]

We should probably make sure people outside our own immediate circle have at least some copy. We could both...

Well.

Date: 2011-11-17 03:32 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Hm)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
Hmm?

[ Rather uncharacteristic for him to go quiet like that. ]

Date: 2011-11-17 04:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Sober] We could both end up dead. Or droned. We shouldn't be the only ones holding the information, love. It's not simply for us, after all.

Date: 2011-11-17 10:39 pm (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Thinking)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
I know. I'm... starting to talk to some of the neighbors on Kramden.

[ She sighs. ] It's difficult, overcoming the training to stay away from reporters, but Lois is sharp. We need all the eyes and minds we can get for this.

[ She frowns. ] I'm considering seeing if we can get a mimeograph machine that isn't in the office, just so we have access to one anytime we need it.

Date: 2011-11-17 10:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
We have enough talent that, with parts, we should be able to make one. It's not that complicated, after all.

[Yes. His Spark is returning -- though he's still not aware of the intensity of the bio-spark's return. It's not been made manifest...]

It's harder for you, here, in so many ways. In Europa my enemies were specific, for the most part, even if hidden. Here in Mayfield, none of the central issues that made my life dangerous back home even exist. It's easier to trust here, because I'm simply less useful as a pawn here.

Date: 2011-11-17 11:32 pm (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Shy? Pfft)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
On the other hand, Mayfield can use us against each other. It has in the past.

[ She turns her face into his shoulder. ]

...but it's worse when I can't rescue you.

Date: 2011-11-18 12:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[He loves her. He fears someday Mayfield will play the "let's die" game and not bring her back to him...and, yet, if he could be certain Mayfield would always bring her back, he wouldn't mind the other games so much.]

It's not like it plays intelligently, love: this has none of the feel of a researched, careful, person-by-person campaign to accomplish anything. It's an angry child batting away at a mob, wholesale -- and even then, seldom for keeps.

[It's not enough comfort for either of them, but it's also true...]

Love, I've experienced the real thing: evil people pitting friends, lovers, family against each other. Compared to that, this is a carnival parade -- if we could just find a way to ensure return will always follow the games.

Date: 2011-11-18 12:38 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Reflection)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
Don't much care for your carnival parades if they're like a Mayfield holiday... but I admit this has its moments.

Date: 2011-11-18 12:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[He isn't stupid enough to say things like "you're so beautiful when you're angry," but he does find her distaste for Mayfield holidays somewhat amusing...mainly because he truly finds Mayfield holidays rather fun, so long as his loved ones come back.]

Dear, so long as they don't leave us with permanent death and disfigurement, it's all a fairly fun, if macabre game. So much of it is so silly: zombies, aliens, flying saucers. Even droning is...well, so long as it's temporary it's a rather mild way of saying, "Keep your mind on the game."

[A bit forlorn.]

The part that's vile is that it's not voluntary, it's not understood, and there's no promise that the "consequences" aren't temporary.

I keep feeling as though, if we could only get far enough outside the model, it would not only all make sense, but be something that could be turned into a joy.

Date: 2011-11-18 01:56 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Default)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
Don't get in the habit of dying. Atlanta doesn't have - what'd you call them? Resurrectionists?

[ Ilsa yawns a bit, and murmurs sleepily. ]

Besides, there's a lot of people who would think it deeply tacky to have the funeral before the wedding.

Date: 2011-11-18 02:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[Mischief strikes -- the boy who probably hasn't been let out since Tarvek was sent away from Castle Wulfenbach. He blanks his eyes, extends his arms, and rises stiffly, mumbling,]

Wha', you don' wanna marry zoooooooombie? Brainzzzzz for Receptionzzzzzz......

Date: 2011-11-18 02:49 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (Thinking)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
[ She makes a small, annoyed noise when he stands up, but then giggles at the show. ] Oh, the caterers would cancel the contract, unless we got the right ones.

[ She kicks off her shoes, and stretches out on the sofa. ]

Mind you, there's quite a few that might serve other bizarre things at a reception.

Date: 2011-11-18 03:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] velesdonnersen.livejournal.com
[He tsks and clucks and sweeps her up off the sofa.]


No, no, no, I got a new sofa just so you could stay if you wanted to. If you... needed to. Look! Look! It's pure spark furniture!

[He puts her down, tosses aside the cushions, and with great pride and glee shows her how a whole queen-sized bed unfolds from an innocent sofa. She may have to work to see it through his Victorian eyes: it really is a marvelous bit of madboy engineering, even if it has become commonplace in her timeline. He's even got it all made up, with sheets and blankets and a cotton coverlet. He hurries to the little den closet, and returns with pillows, setting them up as the finishing touch, then turns to her, eyes shining.]

Can I help m'lady prepare for bed. [Slight blush, but great affection.]

Date: 2011-11-18 03:10 am (UTC)
ooeeooahah: (tell me more)
From: [personal profile] ooeeooahah
[ After the day she's had, the affection is welcome. ]

Thank you, and yes, you may.

[ She reaches behind him and turns out the light. ]

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