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Master of Nothing wrote:╔═══════════╗║
║Username ⇝ Master of Nothing║
Name ⇝ Theobald
Gender ⇝ male
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╚═══════════╝ⓅersonalityFidgety ⇝ Theobald has high nerves; he moves around constantly and is overreactive to danger.
Quiet ⇝ He only speaks when comfortable, which isn't often.
Lonely ⇝ Though partially his fault for not taking risks, Theo wishes he had more friends.
Dreamer ⇝ He's always thinking of more to work on and achieve.
Curious ⇝ Those questions in his mind rarely get out, though they are many. He’s obsessed with answering them.
Optimistic ⇝ To Theo, the glass is both half-full and refillable.
Gentle ⇝ Perhaps too much so; he's terrified of hurting feelings.
Cultured ⇝ Theo knows a lot about a lot of things.{97/100}Ⓐbout His Pet {Beaver}Theobald's companion is a brown velvet chinchilla that he named Beaver. Beaver was purchased compulsively; Theobald had noticed him in a pet shop that was going out of business and couldn't bear to think that he couldn't find a home before the pet shop couldn't take care of him any longer. He cancelled the arrangements he'd had for the night and set off with Beaver to buy supplies to accommodate for him in Theobald's home. Beaver was named because as a child, Theo had always mistaken chinchillas for small beavers with softer tails, and that comparison hadn't left his mind when he first saw his new friend. Though constantly nervous of injuring fragile little Beaver, Theo worked on bonding with him after reading multiple library books on chinchilla care. At this point, Beaver is very comfortable with Theo as his owner, and Theo cares for him as if he were his child.
{152/200}Ⓗome
Theobald sighed, relaxing his tired shoulders. He knew there was so much more work to do, but he wasn't feeling like doing any of it. From his jean pocket, he removed his key chain. The keys jingled and clashed as if to protest their sudden disturbance. Theo flicked his wrist to single out one of them, which he proceeded to use to unlock the door. The bulky door swung open creakily, revealing a large, dusty room. A strong scent of pine and warmth poured into Theo's lungs. He almost cried at the sight. Beautiful! It took every ounce of his will not to collapse right there on the hard wood floor, but he needed to at least make it to his bedroom.
Theo's yawns echoed in the empty air. Despite his best efforts to use up space efficiently and completely, he couldn't be bothered to fill the empty space between the floor and ceiling. He'd thought of putting up a hammock, maybe, but those generally belonged outside, strung together between two sturdy trees, so he could occupy it in the presence of the wind and the grass and the bugs.
His yard was full of wind and grass and bugs. The yard occupied several acres of land, how many exactly Theo could not recall. The land had been scarred several decades ago by fields of wheat and corn, but Theo preferred to let the natural grass and trees of the land thrive instead. So far Theo had not touched the land (there was so much to be done inside the building), but he thought that one day he might build a path of rocks to the creek that ran through the side of his property.
Shaking his head from busy daydreams, Theo continued on, through the vast space of the main room. To his right, rickety horse stalls lined his side. He had a plan for each of them, and he recited them in his head as he walked by. Bathroom. Study. Kitchen... the list went on and on. For the space he got, Theo would be able to have a lot of rooms. To his left, empty space consumed the area like a black hole. There was something unsettling about the lack of furniture in such a big space. Theo shivered. He'd work on that area next.
Was it really such a bad idea for Theo to renovate the old barn into a home? He'd been warned against the barn's purchase daily leading up to his decision, by anyone and everyone from a distant cousin to the clerk at the general store. "I don't know, Tea..." the clerk had said. The old lady always called him Tea, nothing else. Silently, Theobald wished that the nickname would grow on others as it had grown on him. "That's an old barn, and you've never worked in architecture before. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have someone... you know, experienced do it for you?"
Theobald had shaken his head. There were many reasons he couldn't and wouldn't hire a professional for the job. First of all, it would require far too much mentally for him. How could Theo ever have the courage to communicate his ideas to a perfect stranger, or to correct a mistake were one to be made? Architects usually like to add their own little flair to things, but Theo didn't want that. He knew exactly what he wanted in his home, and for once this was something that Theobald didn't wish to be open-minded about. Besides that, did he really have the money? Sure, he was able to buy and have money to renovate a historic barn, but he'd only had that money because he'd inherited it from a relative. With that money out of the way, he was back to a modest yet comfortable lifestyle supported by his job as a flight attendant.
How Theo picked this profession is even still a partial mystery to him. Sure, it seemed reasonable; Theo loved nothing more than to travel, and here was his chance to get paid to do it! All he had to do was walk back and forth the stretch of the plane and offer drinks and food to passengers. Easy! But really, was it? His job also meant that he would interact with grumpy people, crying babies, and loud children. And hours would be long and uneven. And jet lag would be almost constant. Harsh. Loud cities and foreign countries would never feel just like home to Theo.
That's why Theobald was happiest on days like this, where he would get to come home from his job and have a relatively easy-going day, besides the constant surge of renovation project he'd have to complete.
When Theo had reached the end of the main room, nearly a quarter mile walk, he was met by a series of five doors. He opened the one in the center, and to his dismay, he was greeted by a flock of fluttering moths. They liked to hang out in that room because it was comfortably cold, and the infinitely ajar window allowed them to fly inside and out freely. It wasn't an ideal situation. "Hey, Beaver!" Beaver squeaked in reply. His cage took up the majority of the room, a mansion for a chinchilla. Theobald removed a bag of food from a closet and scooped some of it into Beaver's food dish. He reached into the cage and pet Beaver's soft head. "Glad I'm home, little guy?" he asked. On his off days he spent plenty of time with Beaver, since Beaver's only entertainment was an assortment of toys in his cage on all the other days.
Theobald's day ended with him feasting on a bowl of hot soup and watching a movie from the comfort of his own bed. In the last fifteen minutes of the movie, he felt himself dozing off. He never got to see the plot-twist ending before he fell into a deep, wholesome sleep.{998 words, oops!}Ⓐn Odd Habit
Theobald has a quirk of collecting items that his friends have lost. If they ask him if he knows where the items are, he'll always respond with a quick "no". He doesn't really know why he does this, but he enjoys seeing just what he can collect and from whom. On the 30th of October (the day before Halloween) each year, the items Theo accumulated throughout the year are anonymously returned to their owners via small, unlabeled cardboard boxes that are placed at the owner's doorstep. By now most who know Theo are aware that he does this (good-natured Theo isn't very good at telling lies), and so are extra careful not to loose anything too important around him.{119/200}Ⓔxtra: "Empty Space" featuring Theobald and Beaver
