[PRP] Otherdump (Oliver/Chester)

[Melancholies]

"I guess that's true..." Oliver cracked a little smile, apparently grateful that the other one was trying to level with him. "But you're doing something with it, like the whole building stuff thing. Hobbies are paramount to having a stable, productive life." He'd read books on it, watched youtube videos about it. He nodded along with his words.

"Oh, I never did introduce myself, did I? It's Oliver Beaumont." He held his hand out, "It's a pleasure, Chester." It wasn't really, but he was enjoying this encounter more than a lot of his previous ones.

"So what exactly are you building?" The grey ears on either side of his head slowly shifted into something more human.

Smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

"Pleased to meet you, as well." Chester shook. For him, it genuinely was a pleasure. Oliver wasn't older like the Mercers or intimidating like Preacher. He was just a raccoon majoring in music at Rider-Waite. Perfectly acceptable recurring acquaintance material.

Hand reclaimed, Chester used it to rummage through his bag. "To be honest, I don't know what I'll build until the parts tell me what they want to be." He held out a small clockwork giraffe, its articulated neck made of colorful plastic joints. "That's, like, sixteen watches." He smiled, like he was describing a troublesome but lovable child. "Some Hot Wheels bits too."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Ollie watched as he rummaged around, interest slightly piqued. The clockwork giraffe was... cute, actually. Really cute—and kind of cool? "Oh wow," he was genuinely impressed this time, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the Otherworld, "That's... really neat, actually." The way he said that made it seem like there had been an ounce of doubt, but regardless of the fact it was cleared now. "You made that all on your own?" He leaned back finally.

"What about bigger stuff? Do you make bigger stuff?" He made a wide motion with his hands for emphasis, "It's kinda like art. Making stuff out of nothing like that, I mean." And Oliver really liked the artistic things, if his adoration for music was anything to go by.

Smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

Chester nodded, lowering his hand. "The hardest part is working with all the different tools. I did make something much bigger at first, before I really knew what I was doing. It took up a whole corner of my room, floor to ceiling. I kept going to garage sales and finding things to add, but it eventually got so big I had to take it apart." He stopped himself from going on, quite sure this wasn't interesting.

"If you have any ideas, I could consider them. It mostly does what it wants."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Maybe like..." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, "I always enjoyed bigger exhibits. Things you could interact with." He nodded, "What if you incorporated music into it? Something like an organ with giant windpipes, so when the wind hits it it makes specific pitches. That would be neat." Ollie grinned a little, "But I just like music stuff, so that's where my mind wanders."

"Actually," His eyes lit up, "Maybe smaller stuff would be cool. Do you think you could make a music box? Something that moved?"

Smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

This was new, feeling like someone else cared about what amounted to a nerdy hobby. These were good ideas too, though how he might convince the magic to help him make a giant organ was beyond him. Chester grinned back.

"A music box first, definitely. Sometimes things wind up moving on their own when they're made of wheels and gears, but I suppose deliberate movement should be on the list of things I try soon anyway. And sound... I've got a lot to think about." He glanced at the nearby piles of trash. "Now that I have some more concrete things to look for, this search might be easier."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Sure, a lot of that requires necessary pre-planning, I'm sure." Unless Chester was just crazy talented like that, but Oliver was also a firm believer that talent was a lie. Everyone had strengths. Even the talented had to work hard for their right to fame. Nobody wakes up perfect. "What sort of things are you thinking? I mean," He huffed, "I'm not... really doing anything, if you want the help. But only if you need it."

His arms folded. He just wanted to see the music-things made quicker, that's all. He wasn't being nice or anything weird.

Smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

Any reluctance directed toward either the search itself or potentially being too nice went unnoticed as Chester's nerd-focus intensified.

"Metal is the easiest to hear, so I guess... anything made of that? Some wooden things that you think might be appropriately decorative when taken apart would help too. I'll get the fiddly parts, but if you find anything even vaguely musical, I'm sure it'll help." He paused when he realized he was on the verge of giving orders, looking appropriately abashed. "That's only if you want to stay though. Even if you're not doing anything, you don't have to not do it here. Your suggestion has been an immense help as it is."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Well, I have plenty of creativity, but it isn't necessarily for spacial projects like this." Shapes and sizes didn't fit together inside of his head. That had always been Shiloh's thing; he could visualize art and drawings and all sorts of abstract things so easily. Oliver was inclined to sound. He was the one who could pick out the individual pitches in a song, could tell what key it was in without even thinking about it, could close his eyes and fit rhythms together like puzzle pieces. "I suppose I can try still, though I'm not sure who in their right mind would throw away musical tools or whatever. Those are expensive."

But he'd give it a go. He was having a decent day and he had a decent enough impression of Chester. These two things meant that any perceptions of Chester barking orders flew mercifully over his head, because otherwise he'd be getting a little snippy.

"Though maybe some wind chimes. I guess I could see something like that getting pitched." He tapped his chin as he meandered around carefully.

"Unless you improvised." He had stooped down to produce an aluminum trash lid, looking rather amused. A trash can in a trash dump, sounded about right. He tapped it like a cymbal.

Smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

"Anything can become... a thing," Chester said eloquently. "Whatever you find... when I touch it, I'll know if I can use it. But things that are already musical will definitely help, so... yes. Thank you."

He looked off farther into the trash. "I guess I'll meet you back here?"

Melancholies

can fade out on wandering dumplads?

 

[Melancholies]

"Sure, sure, that works." Oliver paused before adding, "But don't complain with what I come back with."

Not that he thought Chester would—he didn't seem to have that disposition really—but he couldn't let him get away without a quip or two. He turned on his heel, ready for whatever this... ultimately bizarre-but-okay adventure was turning out to be.

Smerdle

that's a wrap! ty so much this ended up being kinda cute aaa