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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Jun 6, 2013 22:31:55 GMT 1
It was not unusual for them to do this, actually it was kind of normal. He asked Gilbert quite a few time to model for him. They both didn't take any shame in there. This was just part of their friendship. Though they agreed not to talk about it to others.
Francis was busy setting everything up in his attelier. He managed to rent a small place, because there was no room in his apartment to work at. This had been a former danceroom, a small one though. Francis had kept some of the mirrors, for artistic reasons. He currently had shoved them aside and tried to somewhat set the scene. He played a little with the lightening till it seemed perfect enough.
He set up a small table for his drawing and painting supplies. He made sure to always be well prepared and ready to start when a model would show up. He was very tight on budget, so his model was Gilbert most of the time. He sat down on a small stool and waited for Gilbert to arrive as he flipped through the papers of his last painting session.
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 7, 2013 22:41:31 GMT 1
Gilbert parked his car in the usual spot when he arrived at the atelier. He was still a few minutes early, but that didn’t matter. Contrary to what people might think of him, Gilbert hated to arrive late for something, or if others were late. So he made sure to always arrive early or just in time.
He didn’t mind modelling for Francis. About once a week he did the same thing for an art class that was given in the neighbourhood. Though it was a little weird to have just one person staring at you while you were standing naked in a room, instead of a whole class. Somehow it was more comfortable with twelve people than with one. That is, if Francis hadn’t been one of his best friends. He was perfectly comfortable marching around au naturel in front of the other.
And besides, at least it got him some extra pocket change. Not as much as he would get for a normal modelling gig, but at least it was something. Gilbert knew how it was to be struggling with a profession in this area, so they had agreed on a lower price than he would usually ask for.
Gilbert locked up his car and headed inside. He saw that Francis had left the key for him, so he could lock the door behind himself. Nobody but them would probably try to get in here, but just in case. It was best if they kept the chance of an unwanted interruption to a minimum. They were both working here.
“I’m here.” Gilbert said as he entered the room Francis was occupying and threw the keys onto the table beside the Frenchman. He took one look at the spot he’d be standing in a few minutes and wrinkled his nose. “Can we dim the lights a bit this time? I know you like the sharp shadows, but Gott, it hurts my eyes.” Not many people knew about his bad eyesight, since he didn’t talk about it much, but his sensitive eyes did not at all appreciate the bright light of the spotlights.
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Jun 8, 2013 14:30:03 GMT 1
Francis stopped flipping the next page of his sketchbook. He froze for a second leaving it halfway. He listened as he had heard something outside. Now he knew Gilbert was coming but in this part of the neighborhood you never knew, plus there had been some breaking and entering in other older buildings by rebellious teens and homeless people. Not that there was anything valuable in here, he wouldn’t like any unwanted people sniffing around here. That and he wouldn't like to have his work ruined.
He visibly perked up at the sight of the albino and smiled. He flipped quickly to the next blank page and got up, placing the sketchbook on his stool. “Glad you could find some time for this.” He said smiling. And he did mean it. He knew he didn’t pay as well as Gilbert’s normal modeling gigs at art classes. He was already happy they had agreed on a friend's price. Other models, especially nude, weren't exactly cheap. He actually considered of becoming one too, it paid more then his own work ever did.
When Gilbert mentioned the spotlights, his own eyes darted up to lookg at them. He bit his lip thoughtfully. “Hmm…alright.” The wellbeing of his model was always his first concern, especially when that model was one of his best friends; he didn’t want to ruin Gilbert’s eyes. He walked over to the spotlight and unplugged it.
He then switched on one of regular lamps just above Gilbert’s spot and switched off the rest of light sources. “Would this work for you?” he asked Gilbert just to be sure and fetched a desk lamp to have some lighting for his paper. Maybe this could work for himself after all as well.
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Jun 28, 2013 22:11:38 GMT 1
The lights being dimmed was a relief to Gilbert’s eyes. “Yeah, that’s better, danke.” He gave his friend a small grin as he threw his arms in the air to stretch his back, a few pops from his joints clearly audible. It would make one wonder why he had chosen for a career in the spotlights when his eyes couldn’t handle it. It was worth it though; the love and admiration of countless of fans, actually getting paid for what he wanted to do. Or at least, that’s what he wanted it to be like. There hadn’t been many spotlights for Gilbert lately, apart from Francis’. He really needed to get an audition somewhere soon if he didn’t want to become that one obscure actor that nobody had ever heard of.
“How long are we on for tonight?” Gilbert wanted to know. He slipped off his shoes, threw his jacket over the back of a chair and began to casually take off his t-shirt, letting it join his jacket once he was done. His sweatpants soon followed.
Now, usually he wouldn’t be caught dead in just any old t-shirt and sweatpants since that was his lazing-about-at-home-outfit, but seeing as they weren’t needed right now, he had figured he could show up here in something simple and unflattering. It’s not like anyone but Francis was going to see him like that, and it didn’t matter what Francis thought about his outfit, because he would find something to point out about it one way or the other. The Frenchman couldn’t help it that he didn’t completely understand Gilbert’s amazing sense of style though, so he usually just let him.
Gilbert dropped his boxers and kicked them in the direction of the chair. They came to a halt halfway to it. Good enough, he decided and he stepped onto the spot where the spotlights had been shining previously. “Let’s get started, then.” He said with a grin.
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