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Otto would consider this. The massage chair. An investment in self care. Noted.

"Mmhm. Yeah, I do." He felt better. Much better. "Better get outta here before our fingers shrivel into raisons, though." Peeling himself from the majesty and bliss of the massage and care of Chance's hands, Otto finished rinsing himself off.

Satisfied, he left the shower for Chance to finish up, getting himself dried off in the mean time.

Otto changed back into his PJ pants, but not much else, still busying himself drying off his hair. The towel was finally tossed to the wayside in favour of getting Chance's neck wrapped back up.

"If it's too tight or too lose, then you're on yer own." Otto mumbled helpfully, taking the bandage in hand. He began rather gingerly, before sucking it up and just wrapping it snugly so that it stayed on. "I mean, it'll probably heal pretty quick. Even the bite Maebe gave me is startin' to fade." It hadn't, but it would. It stung like Hell and was not nice to look at. But it would heal.

"Sometimes I wish Deus had a paper work Division. Like.. the only thing about Death that didn't make me wanna die was paper work. You'd think it'd be the worst part, but no. The boss is. And the missions." He hated doing undercover s**t, or having to talk to people and get to know them in order to gain intel. It felt fake. Felt wrong.

"I mean, we still wouldn't get out of days like last night. But still." Sometimes he liked a lack of adventure.

Otto nodded. "I was in Death for a long time. I grew to hate it. And eventually I just ran from it to Sun, without really letting myself understand what I was running from." He finished up, lightly patting the bandages absently, before letting his hands fall to Chance's chest. "Maybe.. maybe I just wanna help from the background, rather than..." He sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

"Thing is? Sun is all front line fighters. And I ain't a great fighter. Like.. at all. I'm more capable at making a swift escape in the thick of things." Which was a trait he'd learned well in Death. "But.. this is the whole I dug myself into. I can't be wishy washy and change my mind all over the place. Instead of running all the time, I need to lay in the beds I mae proper like."

One thing he didn't mind about his size, like Chance had mentioned, was his nimble and agile abilities in a battle. Or running from danger. It made fleeing terrible opponents that much easier for him. He could slide under things without knocking his head, and get into spaces others would find themselves stuck in.

Maybe one day he would find his niche. For now, he was stuck doing the things he'd thought he could do at first, and now found himself disenchanted with.

Otto nodded after the gentle kiss made his worries ease just a little lighter. "Yeah. But wanting to do it and actually doing it... I'm still getting there." He leaned his head against his shoulder very briefly, letting himself relax and enjoy the clean shower scent from Chance's body.

Then, with a final breath in to resolve himself, lightly nudged him back a step.

"Okay. Lemme show you how I play drums." He turned, taking his abandoned shirt and pulling it on before leaving the bathroom.

Otto sat at his drums, and a feeling of familiarity came over him. Drums were second nature. They were an extension of himself and his creativity. He picked up his sticks, spun them in hand as he thought of what to play.

And play he did.

Nothing made Otto fell more excited, more energetic or more accomplished than when he played his drums. It was one of the few passions he held near and dear to his soul.

Otto always smiled when he played drums, because he was just that happy. Just that at ease, and just that into everything he was doing. This was his element. What he was born to do. A dream that never came true, but he still had a deep root with that never died.

When he finally finished, his smile remained. He ran his hands through his hair after dropping his sticks aside, his temples damp with beads of sweat from exerting himself.

He looked up, having completely forgotten Chance had been watching. "So?" Drums weren't everyones thing. But...

"Ain't just the hands, man. Though maybe it's all the drummin' that made me so damn talented." He smirked, playing like he was all that and then some. He stretched out his arms, feeling really good and happy. "I can play more if you want." Since Chance seemed so enthralled, and all.

Eventually there would be movies

"Yeah, I get really into it. I forgot you were even here." He said bluntly with a laugh.

He gave a nod, and eagerly got right back into the drumming. He played until his arms were sore, until his feet were numb. Song after song, because when he was drumming, nothing else existed.

Finally, he broke a drum stick, and tossed it to the side. "Okay... I think I'm done for the day." If Chance looked, he would see the stick was added to a pile of snapped sticks.