[DRP] The Second Hand Unwinds (Preacher & Chester)

[Smerdle]

french girls

His first thought was don't just toss it around like that, but that was only because it looked like a modern magical tome, well used and full of mysteries. He opened it carefully, peeking over at Preacher as if he expected her to stop him. When she didn't, he began paging through, having the strangest urge to touch each piece but stopping himself because... pencil.

They were very, very good. Chester wondered when she had sat still long enough to do all of this. Then he felt guilty for wondering.

"These are lovely. You can certainly draw me whenever you'd like." He said it absently, still turning past people and creatures and structures, some that he knew, most that he did not. When he reached a familiar billowing collar he stopped, pressing his lips together and looking back up at her.

"But... my eyes are up here next time." The grin, it was barely contained.  

[Smerdle]

ready, set, go

"You are rather unbreakable. But I'm just a fragile flower, so this might go very poorly."

He did as he was told, crouching slightly when she positioned his fists and standing again when she was done. Running away had always been his go-to tactic before he had grown, and in the few non-magical altercations he had been in since he had stood his ground for the most part, taking abuse as he made a beeline for the nearest cop. He didn't even try to hit things unless it was necessary, but he was here to learn so he would try.

Chester swung for her shoulder, precise but slow.  

[Smerdle]

broken

Even though he had been the one to suggest he would cry, he had a hard time picturing himself all-out bawling over one of his machines these days. She had as good as admitted that she had broken something though, and now he was more curious to see which something it was, to touch it so he could find out what he was going to do with it next. He wasn't quite prepared for Hickory.

"Oh."

Chester took the pieces from her, pushing past the whispered make me something else he got from most of his older work, hoping to find the core of what he had originally done. He wasn't surprised to find it gone, but all it took was a few seconds of looking at the little robot the old fashioned way to figure out what was wrong.

"It's just a couple of broken gears, no big deal. Probably a rickety screw too." He looked at her, free hand rising toward her face but retreating again before it got halfway. "Here, I'll fix it right now." He leaned for a drawer, retrieving a couple of small plastic boxes and a blue glass orb, its interior studded with bubbles.  

[Smerdle]

john jacob jingleheimer schmidt

He smirked at the pink. Chester was growing to like that color in particular.

"I used to want to be Mark when I was a kid." Mark Hoffman had been one of the only children he could recall before sixth grade who had been genuinely kind to him from the moment they had met. He shrugged faintly. "I'm fine with my own name now. I can say with confidence that I will remain Chester Poole after marriage."

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

broken

That little 'oh' had her bracing for something. A yell, a blow, a disappointment. She sucked in a breath when his hand raised, but Chester dropped it and she blinked.

"Aren't ya... gonna... be mad at me?" she said, softly.  

[The Semblance of Unity]

french girls

The tips of her ears got quite hot. She wasn't used to people looking at her artwork or praising it. It was only a hobby. That hotness spread to the rest of her face at his next comment and she fixed him with a yellow glare - not truly mad, just embarrassed (and maybe a little pleased with the praise).

"I was jus' admirin' the shape of tha collar n' stuff." Which did not explain at all the detail she'd lavished on his collarbones. "Not like ya got tits, so it's alright." A weak excuse and she cast about for something else to say.

"Oh, does that mean ya gonna pose for me nude?" She grinned at him suddenly.  

[The Semblance of Unity]

ready, set, go

"Fragile flower, my a**." She snorted. Because she was so tickled, Chester's punch almost connected, but Preacher dodged at the last minute. She did, however, looked pleased.

"That was pretty good form! Ya gotta work till ya preciseness translates into quickness." Preacher bounced on the balls of her feet. "Ya can dodge or ya can counter. Like this." She brought his fist up to where it had been, almost touching her, then snapped her arm up to knock it away, bring her other elbow up close to rest against his throat. "So, what d'you think you'd do from here?"  

[The Semblance of Unity]

john jacob jingleheimer schmidt

"I like your name better n' Mark." Mark sounded... boring. Chester Nicholas Poole did not. "Oh, not subscribin' ta any name changin'? What if tha girl asks ya to? What if..... you could have tha last name of.... Slaughter.... or I dunno, something cool." Part of his hair was still sticking up and she reached over again to fix it.

After fiddling with it, she dropped her hand. "I swear your hair is ********' around for no good reason. Hairster Poole." Her own, for once, was not confined in a braid or wrestled into a bun or beanie. Meaning it was going to be tangled as all hell when she brushed it before bed.

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

broken

Chester paused when she spoke, the second box halfway open in his fingers. He finished pulling off the lid and set it down next to the first, tiny gears alongside tiny tools. His fingers twitched, hesitating again, but he forced them to slowly rise to her cheek, nudging her to look at him.

"I'm not mad. If it had been one of the others, I would've taken it as a sign that it was time to dismantle it. But this is Hickory, so I'm going to fix him."  

[Smerdle]

french girls

Since he had met her, he could count the number of times he'd flustered her on one hand. It was fun in its own way, even when he'd kind of used unfair means to get there. He knew that he would have had reservations sharing a hobby like this that was far more personal than his tinkering, and he had taken advantage. When she turned it around, it was only what he deserved.

"U-um." Chester swallowed. "No, I..." He knew she was just teasing, that he should fire off a comeback or something, but all that came out was a weird, desperate chuckle. "Let's start with my face first."

Preacher would have needed eighty hands to count the number of times she'd flustered him.  

[Smerdle]

ready, set, go

"Well, I'd want to back away, but I don't think I'd be fast enough here, so I suppose... counter?" He brought the hand that wasn't in mid-punch up to try to push her elbow away.

"Or would it be better to hit you somewhere else to distract you?" There were an awful lot of arms all in the same vicinity right now. Relocating one seemed like a decent idea.  

[Smerdle]

john jacob jingleheimer schmidt

"If she asks nicely then I'll definitely consider it. Especially if I'm going to end up Mark Slaughter. I mean..."

He went silent as she touched him, his eyes falling shut for a little longer than a blink. Then he said, with as much seriousness as he could muster, "Mark Slaughter's mane will not be tamed."

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

hands on

There was a some not un-reminiscent of Chester's baby elephant thumping as Preacher careened up the stairs. She threw open his door and stumbled in. "Hey!" she said brightly, setting a beer on his desk... Preacher hesitated for a second, thinking fuzzily about coasters, then shrugged. Then, upon finding no other seat available, proceeded to sit on Chester's lap.

"Broughtsha beer." She giggled. It was unfortunately quite clear that she'd had a few herself. "Hi Bester, Mester, Petster."  

[The Semblance of Unity]

ready, set, go

"Ya could counter," she said, looking pleased. "Or, since m'counter is going towards ya right, and m'elbow is striking from the same direction... if ya move with my counter, than you'll be outta range for my elbow." Preacher moved her arms again slightly, showing how both were twisting towards Chester's right.

"Or, as ya move, you can take 'vantage of m'openness here." Grabbing his free hand, she placed it against her sternum, her hand over his. "Since my elbow's up, m'torso's too open. So ya can strike here or here." She moved his hand lower, right beneath her chest. "Try to run it through like that." Preacher dropped her hand.  

[The Semblance of Unity]

french girls

"But ya've got such a.... package deal," she said, her eyes suddenly twinkling. "Why jus' ya face?" Preacher was bordering on being gross, but she didn't mind. It was funny to fluster him always. Always, always funny.