tityanya
Queen of Moonlight
𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐
𝒜𝓈: 𝒩𝒶𝑜
Scene: If Something Tastes Funny, Try It Again
Time: May 6th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
I am here: Central District Club
With: Tak and Dante
Time: May 6th, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3
I am here: Central District Club
With: Tak and Dante
"When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely"
╔════════════════════╗
Naomi managed to catch, barely, the way Dante tensed as she wrapped her arm in his. She didn’t catch the caught breath, hiding the pain he was in, as loud as it was in the club. But it was hard to hide how tense your muscles got when you were in pain. Belatedly, Naomi realized that she had hurt him. For a second, her brain was reeling–how? And then she remembered: bruises. Bruises were an injury people got, especially if they were in car accidents. She started to bring her hand to her forehead, but the high-pitched “Kya~” caught her off guard. She snorted, looking at Dante’s silly damsel in distress pose. ”Sorry, sir,” she said in an affected deep voice, adjusting her arm so she was hopefully digging into his skin less. She didn’t want to lose him in the crowd–that was the initial reason she grabbed his arm to begin with.
As they passed the bouncer, Naomi glanced at Dante’s face, just for a second. Boy, if looks could kill. He was giving the bouncer one of the most intense glares Naomi had ever seen–it quite surprised her, honestly. Aww, Dante cared that the bouncer was treating her more like a piece of meat than a person? Tak wouldn’t have given a shit. Honestly, he might have even joined the bouncer in staring. Naomi certainly hadn’t helped the behavior by purposefully drawing attention to them.
They made it outside. The outside air did feel much better than the inside. Honestly, if she wasn’t eagerly looking for the New Miracle inside, she might have asked Dante if he’d rather go for a drive. They could put the top down on the Supra, and coast off into the night. She even had a handy excuse for leaving Tak behind–the car was only a two-seater. This wasn’t FB’s Day Off. She drove way too crazy for anyone to try and sit behind the seats and stay in the car. The image of Tak going flying as Naomi took a turn too fast did make her giggle a little, her hand going to her mouth to suppress some of the sound.
Naomi mentioned her car, bringing Dante back out of his little reverie. But Dante didn’t seem that interested in the car. She deflated, just a little, before steeling herself. He hadn’t seen the car yet. Even those who weren’t interested in cars loved her car.
They made it to the supra, Naomi displaying her proudly. She beamed like a pleased cat as Dante’s jaw dropped. ”Oh shit, indeed,” she agreed, glad that once again, the Supra awed and amazed. It was definitely the prettiest car nearby–the trash other people called their vehicles only helped to make her baby shine even prettier. She beamed as Dante complimented the car, taking every compliment as a compliment to her person as well. She had chosen the car after all, and the color. And all the after-market additions. It was her most precious belonging.
She laughed at the comment about this being the kind of car Jason Benson would drive. ”He would drive it once a month in his little race-car jammies, just to make himself look so much cooler than all the other little peons he works with,” she joked. Men like that tended to have a garage full of cars they never drove–which was such a waste in Naomi’s eyes. She bought this car to drive it and show it off, not to have it sit in some garage somewhere, crying from being underused.
She watched with pride as he ran his hand along the car, awe-struck. He made an approving noise, saying that he couldn’t afford the car even if he sold his right lung. ”I work a lot,” she said, staring into the distance. When she wasn’t sleeping or partying, she was working. Serpent work, modeling, any small jobs she could get her hands on–her lifestyle required a lot of money. At the very least, she could sometimes get drugs for “free.” Unfortunately, a car payment didn’t work the same way.
She popped open the trunk, pulling out the clothes and hiding the drugs. Dante made only one comment about it–that she must have really liked to party. She gave him a wry smile. It was the truth, after all. She didn’t feel the need to deny it–partying was her life. Maybe one day she’d get bored of the scene, leave that life behind. But right now, she wasn’t even sure what she’d do with her time outside of partying. It was such a central part of her interests. She shook the thought away, instead focusing on Dante’s face as she presented his options.
A silly little smile crossed his face as he saw the bodysuit. Naomi’s face matched his expression, but she tried her best to hide her excitement. She hadn’t expected him to show even an iota of interest in the revealing clothing. He was, after all, currently dressed in a form-concealing hoodie. And if she had somehow managed to get Tak out here, she knew he would roast her “brother.” She would probably do her best to hide it from him, even.
She beamed at Dante as he said, heart full of sincerity, that he thought he’d get along with her brother. He didn’t know that her brother really was just her but packaged in a different form. She hummed to herself, pleased that he thought he’d get along with her. “I can tell him about you, so you guys can arrange to hangout sometime!” she smiled, pulling out the clothes. She was having a full-on happy serotonin boost–he liked her car, he liked her clothes, he thought he’d get along well with her–well, her male form. But that didn’t matter. She could act a little more like Noam, maybe? She’d think about it–Nao wasn’t as crazy as Noam was. She was a little afraid that if she got too into it, she might just turn into him. That would be embarrassing. She’d never be able to see Tak or Dante again. Maybe it would be better to just act like herself.
She “joked” about helping him take his clothes off, giving him a cheeky little wink. Dante puffed up like he was going to laugh, but something stopped him short. Awww, boo. She had a feeling his off-guard laugh would be really cute. Luckily, he still had a smile on his face. Her comment hadn’t chased him away, or made him uncomfortable. That was good.
She gave him a cheeky smile, her eyes glittering as he retold the situation, making her sound as though she was taking advantage of him. ”Sounds about right. I am a daring girl,” she joked back. She didn’t think he was serious–they had come outside to get him a change of clothes, after all. She nodded as he said that he could do it himself, though. She wasn’t going to press it. She didn’t want to scare him away by pressing his boundaries.
Without any hesitation, he began pulling off his hoodie, groaning in pain as he did so. ”Oh my gosh! she said, her hand reaching forward to help him–but halted. He wanted to do it himself. She knew first-hand how stubborn men could be, as she was one sometimes. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t nag him, now. ”This is why I offered to help,” she said, a sad tinge to her voice.
But the nagging didn’t last very long. No, she was immediately distracted by what had been hiding underneath that hoodie. Washboard abs, just a hint peeking through his deep v-neck shirt. A smattering of tattoos up and down his arms, cobwebs and wolves and stripes of a tiger–much like Naomi’s own little snake. She was a little jealous–she would love to be able to have tattoos. But the fuzzy little snake on her ankle had been an experiment, one to see if the ink would transfer over to all her forms. Sadly, it did. She couldn’t exactly be a super-secret spy if she had the same tattoo over all her forms. And even if she was okay with it, the fate of the little snake told her exactly what would happen to her tattoos–all the stretching and shrinking had warped it, so it was barely even recognizable as a snake. Well, one might argue that it hadn’t looked much like a snake to begin with, more like a squiggly line. That’s what happened when you got a tattoo at a party and your tattoo artist was drunk.
Interlacing the tattoos and muscles was something much darker–bruises, and bandages, and long healed scars. The bandages snaked around his body, trying to hide the worst of the injuries. ”That must have really hurt,” she said softly, eyeing the slightly blood-tinged bandages. ”If you want, I can try and redo some of them, since they’re a little sloppy,” she offered, hiding her hands behind her back. She wanted to run her fingers along the injuries, examine them. In high school, she had often patched up her friends after fights. But she barely knew Dante, and didn't know yet what the limits of his boundaries were. And someone brushing their fingers over your injuries–well, even she knew that was a little weird.
He looked at her, telling her that he had been in a lot of car crashes lately, a clumsy driver. She smiled at him, not believing him for a minute. She had seen similar scars on other serpents–she knew full well that those injuries, whiting out his tattoos, were not from a car crash. Nobody crashed a car that much and lived. But he hadn’t pressed her about the drugs, so she wasn’t going to press him about the scars. But she was going to make a snarky comment about it, like he had. ”Your insurance premiums must be through the roof," she joked. ”Maybe even worse than mine.” A premium car required premium insurance, after all. She was too attached to her baby to have no protection on it at all.
She smiled, a big toothy grin, and laughed as he told her that was a world record for someone getting him to take his clothes off at a party. ”I’m very good at convincing people,” she joked back. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was the fastest she had convinced someone to undress. Some people took no prompting or needling at all, already ready to disrobe. ”But this is the fastest I’ve decided I wanted to undress someone,” she said after, with a laugh. Usually she eyed people for a long time before she approached them. And the ones that approached her–well, she liked to dance the dance.
Dante grabbed the dress shirt and the bodysuit, bringing them up to his cute little face while he pondered over them. His next words caught Naomi by surprise, and she stood blinking at him for a moment. Pairing them…together? Well, they would look cute. And she’d get the skimpy clothes in addition to the blue to match his golden eyes. She put her hand on her chin, looking at both clothes against his body, her face fully serious as she pondered. ”I think the double sleeves might be a little hot. But if you were wearing a hoodie before, it wouldn’t be nearly as bad. If you kept the blue shirt open over the black one, I think it could work out,” she said, her voice losing any of the playful tone it had earlier. Fashion was serious time. Everyone deserved to look good and have a fun time.
╚════════════════════╝
Naomi managed to catch, barely, the way Dante tensed as she wrapped her arm in his. She didn’t catch the caught breath, hiding the pain he was in, as loud as it was in the club. But it was hard to hide how tense your muscles got when you were in pain. Belatedly, Naomi realized that she had hurt him. For a second, her brain was reeling–how? And then she remembered: bruises. Bruises were an injury people got, especially if they were in car accidents. She started to bring her hand to her forehead, but the high-pitched “Kya~” caught her off guard. She snorted, looking at Dante’s silly damsel in distress pose. ”Sorry, sir,” she said in an affected deep voice, adjusting her arm so she was hopefully digging into his skin less. She didn’t want to lose him in the crowd–that was the initial reason she grabbed his arm to begin with.
As they passed the bouncer, Naomi glanced at Dante’s face, just for a second. Boy, if looks could kill. He was giving the bouncer one of the most intense glares Naomi had ever seen–it quite surprised her, honestly. Aww, Dante cared that the bouncer was treating her more like a piece of meat than a person? Tak wouldn’t have given a shit. Honestly, he might have even joined the bouncer in staring. Naomi certainly hadn’t helped the behavior by purposefully drawing attention to them.
They made it outside. The outside air did feel much better than the inside. Honestly, if she wasn’t eagerly looking for the New Miracle inside, she might have asked Dante if he’d rather go for a drive. They could put the top down on the Supra, and coast off into the night. She even had a handy excuse for leaving Tak behind–the car was only a two-seater. This wasn’t FB’s Day Off. She drove way too crazy for anyone to try and sit behind the seats and stay in the car. The image of Tak going flying as Naomi took a turn too fast did make her giggle a little, her hand going to her mouth to suppress some of the sound.
Naomi mentioned her car, bringing Dante back out of his little reverie. But Dante didn’t seem that interested in the car. She deflated, just a little, before steeling herself. He hadn’t seen the car yet. Even those who weren’t interested in cars loved her car.
They made it to the supra, Naomi displaying her proudly. She beamed like a pleased cat as Dante’s jaw dropped. ”Oh shit, indeed,” she agreed, glad that once again, the Supra awed and amazed. It was definitely the prettiest car nearby–the trash other people called their vehicles only helped to make her baby shine even prettier. She beamed as Dante complimented the car, taking every compliment as a compliment to her person as well. She had chosen the car after all, and the color. And all the after-market additions. It was her most precious belonging.
She laughed at the comment about this being the kind of car Jason Benson would drive. ”He would drive it once a month in his little race-car jammies, just to make himself look so much cooler than all the other little peons he works with,” she joked. Men like that tended to have a garage full of cars they never drove–which was such a waste in Naomi’s eyes. She bought this car to drive it and show it off, not to have it sit in some garage somewhere, crying from being underused.
She watched with pride as he ran his hand along the car, awe-struck. He made an approving noise, saying that he couldn’t afford the car even if he sold his right lung. ”I work a lot,” she said, staring into the distance. When she wasn’t sleeping or partying, she was working. Serpent work, modeling, any small jobs she could get her hands on–her lifestyle required a lot of money. At the very least, she could sometimes get drugs for “free.” Unfortunately, a car payment didn’t work the same way.
She popped open the trunk, pulling out the clothes and hiding the drugs. Dante made only one comment about it–that she must have really liked to party. She gave him a wry smile. It was the truth, after all. She didn’t feel the need to deny it–partying was her life. Maybe one day she’d get bored of the scene, leave that life behind. But right now, she wasn’t even sure what she’d do with her time outside of partying. It was such a central part of her interests. She shook the thought away, instead focusing on Dante’s face as she presented his options.
A silly little smile crossed his face as he saw the bodysuit. Naomi’s face matched his expression, but she tried her best to hide her excitement. She hadn’t expected him to show even an iota of interest in the revealing clothing. He was, after all, currently dressed in a form-concealing hoodie. And if she had somehow managed to get Tak out here, she knew he would roast her “brother.” She would probably do her best to hide it from him, even.
She beamed at Dante as he said, heart full of sincerity, that he thought he’d get along with her brother. He didn’t know that her brother really was just her but packaged in a different form. She hummed to herself, pleased that he thought he’d get along with her. “I can tell him about you, so you guys can arrange to hangout sometime!” she smiled, pulling out the clothes. She was having a full-on happy serotonin boost–he liked her car, he liked her clothes, he thought he’d get along well with her–well, her male form. But that didn’t matter. She could act a little more like Noam, maybe? She’d think about it–Nao wasn’t as crazy as Noam was. She was a little afraid that if she got too into it, she might just turn into him. That would be embarrassing. She’d never be able to see Tak or Dante again. Maybe it would be better to just act like herself.
She “joked” about helping him take his clothes off, giving him a cheeky little wink. Dante puffed up like he was going to laugh, but something stopped him short. Awww, boo. She had a feeling his off-guard laugh would be really cute. Luckily, he still had a smile on his face. Her comment hadn’t chased him away, or made him uncomfortable. That was good.
She gave him a cheeky smile, her eyes glittering as he retold the situation, making her sound as though she was taking advantage of him. ”Sounds about right. I am a daring girl,” she joked back. She didn’t think he was serious–they had come outside to get him a change of clothes, after all. She nodded as he said that he could do it himself, though. She wasn’t going to press it. She didn’t want to scare him away by pressing his boundaries.
Without any hesitation, he began pulling off his hoodie, groaning in pain as he did so. ”Oh my gosh! she said, her hand reaching forward to help him–but halted. He wanted to do it himself. She knew first-hand how stubborn men could be, as she was one sometimes. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t nag him, now. ”This is why I offered to help,” she said, a sad tinge to her voice.
But the nagging didn’t last very long. No, she was immediately distracted by what had been hiding underneath that hoodie. Washboard abs, just a hint peeking through his deep v-neck shirt. A smattering of tattoos up and down his arms, cobwebs and wolves and stripes of a tiger–much like Naomi’s own little snake. She was a little jealous–she would love to be able to have tattoos. But the fuzzy little snake on her ankle had been an experiment, one to see if the ink would transfer over to all her forms. Sadly, it did. She couldn’t exactly be a super-secret spy if she had the same tattoo over all her forms. And even if she was okay with it, the fate of the little snake told her exactly what would happen to her tattoos–all the stretching and shrinking had warped it, so it was barely even recognizable as a snake. Well, one might argue that it hadn’t looked much like a snake to begin with, more like a squiggly line. That’s what happened when you got a tattoo at a party and your tattoo artist was drunk.
Interlacing the tattoos and muscles was something much darker–bruises, and bandages, and long healed scars. The bandages snaked around his body, trying to hide the worst of the injuries. ”That must have really hurt,” she said softly, eyeing the slightly blood-tinged bandages. ”If you want, I can try and redo some of them, since they’re a little sloppy,” she offered, hiding her hands behind her back. She wanted to run her fingers along the injuries, examine them. In high school, she had often patched up her friends after fights. But she barely knew Dante, and didn't know yet what the limits of his boundaries were. And someone brushing their fingers over your injuries–well, even she knew that was a little weird.
He looked at her, telling her that he had been in a lot of car crashes lately, a clumsy driver. She smiled at him, not believing him for a minute. She had seen similar scars on other serpents–she knew full well that those injuries, whiting out his tattoos, were not from a car crash. Nobody crashed a car that much and lived. But he hadn’t pressed her about the drugs, so she wasn’t going to press him about the scars. But she was going to make a snarky comment about it, like he had. ”Your insurance premiums must be through the roof," she joked. ”Maybe even worse than mine.” A premium car required premium insurance, after all. She was too attached to her baby to have no protection on it at all.
She smiled, a big toothy grin, and laughed as he told her that was a world record for someone getting him to take his clothes off at a party. ”I’m very good at convincing people,” she joked back. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was the fastest she had convinced someone to undress. Some people took no prompting or needling at all, already ready to disrobe. ”But this is the fastest I’ve decided I wanted to undress someone,” she said after, with a laugh. Usually she eyed people for a long time before she approached them. And the ones that approached her–well, she liked to dance the dance.
Dante grabbed the dress shirt and the bodysuit, bringing them up to his cute little face while he pondered over them. His next words caught Naomi by surprise, and she stood blinking at him for a moment. Pairing them…together? Well, they would look cute. And she’d get the skimpy clothes in addition to the blue to match his golden eyes. She put her hand on her chin, looking at both clothes against his body, her face fully serious as she pondered. ”I think the double sleeves might be a little hot. But if you were wearing a hoodie before, it wouldn’t be nearly as bad. If you kept the blue shirt open over the black one, I think it could work out,” she said, her voice losing any of the playful tone it had earlier. Fashion was serious time. Everyone deserved to look good and have a fun time.
╚════════════════════╝
((ooc: ))
((Outfit: Red Dress with red high heels))
((Die in the Disco))
thebigfella
@Haze-
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