First, why he's dressed that way, and second, if he can help her brother

"I think the obvious first question is why you're wearing that thing," Broomi began, pointing at the odd, gold-colored leaf arrangement that provided the most minimal of coverage for his penis.

The eccentric inventor smiled wider, then cocked one eyebrow. "Miss Broomi Jean-Bromide, I wear this out of courtesy for you the two of you. If you'd rather I take it off, I'm fine with that, but I thought that the people of this city still clung to some ideas of modesty. You've made great strides to change that, and I thank you for it. In recognition of those efforts, you'd prefer for me to go without?" The man's language was flowery, but it seemed like, in the end, he was just teasing the Jean-Bromides. "If anything, perhaps you should dress down to my state first. The church may ask you to hide your body and even your hair, but that is their mistake; I won't repeat it. Please, bare as much as you will."

Broomi shook her head; she didn't mind being a little promiscuous, but this guy seemed like more of a freak the more she got to know him.

"Hm... Your sibling looks disappointed. Sorry, you're not strictly related. Not by blood, at least, are you?"

The young nun grumbled and crossed her arms; the world seemed to be doing a lot today to drive that point home, that the two of them weren't a true brother and sister pair. Still, she knew Mikkel was just messing with her; there was no way Brocken's face had registered anything other than a sullen frown. She didn't even bother looking. Even if she was a bit curious. "We'll save that for some other time. Anyways, I think I stopped caring about why you're here naked in your art studio, painting other naked people. Or maybe I just got my answer." The answer was, clearly, that the guy was some kind of perv, in addition to being a screwball and a hermit. A pretty hermit. But still a shut-in and quite a weirdo. "So let me ask another question: can you do anything to help my brother?"

"There are quite a lot of ways I'd like to help your brother with that 'huge, crescent-moon shaped cock' you mentioned. I don't think he'd fancy all of them. We'll focus on the more practical ones." Mikkel gave a small chuckle, then turned, placing one hand onto his workbench in an aloof way and leaning. One of his bare feet crossed behind the opposite calf. Every movement the guy made looked like he was posing for a statue himself; it could be because he was surrounded by art or it could be because his body itself looked as though it had been carved from marble to resemble some angel's. "You didn't know that I had any experience with demons before you came here. Therefore, I surmise that you're here not for my advice, but for an invention. Would that be accurate?"

Broomi nodded impatiently, flapping her bushy brown bangs.

"Ha ha ha! So more of my inventions are about to walk out on me. One might begin to suspect that I was purposely losing track of them as a means of distribution- ow!"

Fed up with the cryptic language, the young nun walked to one side of the taller man and reached up to grab his pony-tail and give him a yank. The confessor was treating him roughly with a scolding frown, like she would one of the church children when they were acting up. "I didn't come here for your advice-- and I especially didn't come here for your innuendos and your jokes! I came here to find some way to help Brocken. So if you can't do that, then we're just going to go and let you strap back up to that harness so you can finish your painting."

"Hrk! The last person to pull my ponytail was my sister and she grew up to be quite a black-hearted sadist! You don't want to become a nasty woman like that, right, Broomi?!" Mikkel kept on laughing and joking, then whimpered as Broomi pulled even harder, pulling his face down to eye-level with hers. Brocken gulped in the background; he'd seen his sister discipline the bad behavior of church-goers nearly twice her size, and more muscular than this guy by far. "O-Okay! Very well; let's talk inventions! I made the original batches of those pendants- I believe I mentioned that? There are plenty that might suit your purposes! How about I show you a few?"

"Yeah, how about?" The fearsome nun smiled challengingly as she released Mikkel's ponytail, then placed both hands on her hips. "And make it a good one! That flashy codpiece you wear could be like a big target for my foot, if you keep playing around!" Broomi liked jokes, ordinarily, but something about the way the guy acted like such a wise-ass know-it-all had made a bad impression on her almost immediately.

After finally retrieving the coiled tip of his hair from his tormentor, Mikkel laughed off the punishment he'd received, but then quickly went to retrieve the items he had in mind. The urgency with which he moved clearly demonstrated that he was not eager to see his most treasured possession become target practice for the kicks of one angry little nun. "You really are like my sister, huh?" he joked through clenched teeth, remembering how often she'd punished him for his mischief when they were both much, much younger. "And yet, I doubt you two get along at all these days."

"Yeah, different age groups and all," Broomi agreed with a shrug. From her perspective, as much as Mikkel was joking about it, she and Counselor Ursula had very little in common. It was hard to even imagine that woman letting loose and enjoying a night out on the town. She was probably buried in church paperwork right now, that poor old spinster.

"... Very different ages, yes." The inventor smirked at that, then brought forward a small collection of items and placed them atop a low table. "Here you are, Miss Confessor. Three of my finest. Let's go over each of them until you find one you're interested in..." He motioned for Brocken to approach as well, then leaned over the table, placing both of his long, thin-fingered hands onto its polished white surface. "Don't be shy."