[PRP] Liability (Shiloh & Ro)

[Melancholies]

There was a store by the 4th Wall that Shiloh had been itching to go to. Hell, he was fairly certain he had gone here, or rather the him native to this universe did. A record store seemed right up his proverbial indie heart, and besides that was the fact that his old interests were starting to slip in favor of magical practices. It made him a little sad, honestly, given that music was such an important part of his life growing up. Between that and drawing, he had no other outlets.

Except well, the aforementioned magic.

But the thing with magic was its new status as taboo, how people were afraid of it, how he had to keep it a secret or else he'd never get the sociology degree he was aiming for. Thankfully he could keep his magic under fair wraps; sometimes the flowers itched fervently under his skin, but that was more of a triggered response, a defense mechinism. Other than that his magic was fairly innocuous and only came up if he willed it to be. There was one oversight to this, but it was an ability he often forgot he had and one that made people wonder, but not to the legitimacy of his magical status.

This was why when, on a perfectly clear sunshining day, the record room suddenly filled with the subtle smell of rain the second Shiloh walked in. Then again, it was probably weird to see a guy wearing long sleeves in this warmer weather too, but Shiloh didn't seem that bothered by it.

He had products to browse, after all.

GhouIs

hope this works for you! Sorry if there's any typos because I wrote this at 6am on my phone ROFL

 

[GhouIs]

As soon as Shiloh walked into the small shop, his ears would be met with the sweet sweet sounds of Bomb The Music Industry!'s album To Leave Or Die In Long Island. An old favorite of Ro's, that had the vinyl store owner shamelessly bobbing his head and mouthing the words as he did some online browsing behind the cash counter.

The music was so loud, Shiloh's entrance was lost within the sound. Though the sudden and unexpected smell of rain did alert Ro to something. He looked up, brows raised in surprise.

"Oh, s**t, man, sorry-" he leaned to the side and turned down the sound some, so his voice could be heard above Rosenstock's rough yet endearing vocals. "What's up, 'loh? You haven't come by in a while. Lookin' for some more blank cassettes?"

Melancholies

visual ref for the store
& the album mentioned

 

[Melancholies]

Yup, check that one off the list for 'my alternate universe self knew this person and now I gotta play along with it', and also a check for the 'nickname basis' one. "It's chill." He held his hand up quickly with a dismissive wave, and it was true; if he was bothered by the loud noise, it didn't show at all on his face. Shiloh liked to blare noise through his earbuds all the time. His hearing was going to be shot by the time he was thirty and he was perfectly accepting of the fact.

Except, oh wait, that was implying he'd live that long. Actually, he was a Noble, which meant he was basically going to be caught in the nineteen-twenty rift until he died. That was nice. Good age, at least. Legal-to-drink would've been swell, but he'd have hundreds of years in the reset to figure out forgery and fake ID's. Check that off the list of 'I was trying to have a good time and now I've gone and made myself sad again', Shiloh Beaumont everyone.

"It's been rough." Which wasn't a total lie, "But I've been meaning to stop by." He leaned on the counter lackadaisically, "I actually stopped by to browse a little, but I'll pick some up, why not." He hadn't made mix tapes in months. He hadn't been keeping up with his audio log either. At least the guy behind the counter—whoever the ******** he was—had good taste in music, if his shirt was anything to go by.

"I miss much in the ******** I was gone?" Idle conversation for now; he'd figure out the name dilemma in a bit.

GhouIs

 

[GhouIs]

Ro was thirty and his eardrums were, indeed, blown to hell. He'd started wearing buds to shows just a little too late and there were certain notes that would have his ears ringing for hours afterwards if they hit hard enough but he was a glutton for punishment and he could have his music no other way than loud and trashy.

"Rough, huh? Seems like too a common response these days." Ro took off his maroon-colored beanie so he could run a hand through his teal-more-blue-than-green hair. As usual, he looked tired. Eyes shadowed from lack of sleep, face haggard. He'd give anything for a nap but he needed business. Bad.

The thirty-one year old got up off the stool he'd been lounging in and circled around the counter.

"You haven't missed much. Business has been shittier than usual. I'm tryin' to pick up something part-time at the radio station. Ya know Wendy Concord? She's gonna trial-run me on her show for a bit, see if I can make a good impression or whatever the ********." He made a lazy gesture towards the room in the back of the shop, where all the cassettes and VHS tapes and the tiny stage was located.

"C'mon back, let's get ya those tapes."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Oh no s**t?" He followed Ro back around. Shiloh didn't know Wendy personally, but he'd tuned into her shows a few times. If anything, he knew Cid and his brother worked next door for Cid, so he had the acquaintances down. Plus she had his tastes for music down pat on that station, so what was there to lose? "That ain't bad. S'too bad you're so tucked away like this." He briefly wondered how many people actually stopped by but were turned away by the blaring music.

Oh god.

Had Shiloh not wandered down the path of magic, would he have ended up like Ro in twenty years? Sad, alone, really exhausted looking, still wearing beanies. He sent Jamie a mental thank god you exist (not that he'd hear it), but it was at least reassuring to know he'd escaped such a fate. Then again, owning a record store seemed really neat, even if it looked stressful.

Whatever.

"If I didn't have a part time job, I'd offer to help you out here." Though it wouldn't solve the 'I need business' portion, just the 'I'm about to pass out' one. "But hopefully the radio show thing goes alright." He eyed the tiny stage with vague interest. Shiloh seemed to be ignorant to the soft chirping that was coming from his backpack.

GhouIs

 

[GhouIs]

"Yeah, thanks dude." He couldn't afford to hire anyone on anyway. "Wendy's gonna start givin' the place a shout out on the air, so, hopefully that'll drum up some business."

Ro crossed the room, and plucked a case of blank cassettes from the shelf they were located at. Everything in the non-vinyl room was meticulously organized and each wall was covered in shelving units that reached all the way to the ceiling. The only bit of wall that wasn't dedicated to Ro's vintage ware was the corner where the stage sat. He noticed Shiloh eyeing it as he handed the pack of ten tapes over to the younger male.

"Ya play anything?" He asked, realizing it wasn't a conversation they'd had yet. Before the blond could answer, though, Ro's attention shifted to Shiloh's backpack. "Have you got a... bird... in there or something?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Me? No. I mean, I was in band in middle school, but it wasn't my thing." He had more of an appreciation to listen to music rather than play it, though he definitely had a respect for people who could consider them a musician. "My brother plays piano though—" He paused when he heard the chirping, "—uh...?"

He looked over his shoulder. Bean was there in all of his 4 1/2 inch tall glory. He chirped again; he had probably passed out in the backpack, but no doubt Roman's loud music had woken him up. He blinked and did the squinty eye thing that cats did when they were comfortable.

Shiloh's eyes were huge as he quickly—prolly too roughly—stuffed him back into the backpack. "So those tapes."

GhouIs

sorry this took so long!

 

[GhouIs]

Ro's thoughts stuttered to a hault as he stared at the tiny being that had clambered out of Shiloh's pack. He rubbed at his eyes, as though the being was nothing more than an eyelash that had fallen into his line of sight, and by the time he was able to focus again Shiloh had shoved the plant-thing back into hiding. <********' okay then. He thought, deciding to ignore the thing's existence entirely.

Once again, he presented the pack of tapes. He did his best not to look at the backpack again, but he couldn't help but let his eyes zero in on it when the creature gave another muffled chirp.

"How, uh, how old's your brother?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh was exceedingly awkward, but Ro wasn't pushing it? Even though his eyes were staring at the backpack, and Shiloh kept staring at the backpack, and Bean kept ******** squirming in the backpack. Were they just going to pretend like it never happened? Shiloh could do that. Chirp. Maybe Shiloh couldn't do that. Oh god.

"W-We're uh," He tried to put the train back on the right rails, "Twins, actually. Identical. So... basically the same age." Shiloh cleared his throat, "Oh but, I'm still technically the older one. Technically." It was a relief at least to know that Ro was only kind of acquainted with the this-universe version of him. That or the this-universe version of him didn't talk about Ollie that much, which was a little sad. He loved his brother. But whatever.

He took the pack of tapes without much ado. Bean hadn't re-emerged, but his snoot was definitely poking out.

GhouIs