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[pocketspa]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, TAAKO. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 420.87.169.02 *** coolertwin has joined 420.87.169.02 <coolertwin> wait <coolertwin> waaaaait <coolertwin> waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait <coolertwin> made ya look lol

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[certaininequities]

Norman shows up promptly at the appointed time, a pair of wine gift bags hanging off his arm. He didn't get completely dressed up, but he's in his good pair of black jeans and a long-sleeved blue dress shirt, the top button undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He approaches the farm alert but smiling, looking to see if 'Chaboy' might be working somewhere in the yard or if he's inside the house.

[pocketspa]

Aaaw, he's cute. If only the same could be said for his dinner date. Taako meanwhile is outside when he approaches, tending to what looks like a tomato plant out around the front of the farmhouse. He's in a yellow t-shirt knotted at the bottom that says 'NO BUMMERS' across the front in pink text and a large straw sunhat. And being a naga, he's since long abandoned trying to wear anything past where the scales take over, the pale blue iridescent length of him laying lazily along the ground and stretching to a patio door off the side. When Norman approaches, one of his long, scaled ears perks up, and he turns with a lazy grin as he rests on part of his tail as if sitting on a bench.

"Heeeeey, my guy, glad you could make it. Hope it wasn't too far for ya."

[certaininequities]

Thankfully, being best friends with Fiddleford has made Norman immune to both the concepts of pantsless monsters and lack of fashion sense. There's something inherently whimsical about the sunhat, though, and it broadens his grin as he closes the distance between them.

"No, not at all. It was a nice walk, and I can always use the exercise." He holds out a hand for a handshake. "Good to meet you in person."

[pocketspa]

He saunters over to the edge of the fence, insomuch as someone without legs can saunter, but it's really a lot of unnecessary hip movements that he will do no matter what anyone says. "Good to see you too, my good dude. Front door's open, so, uhh, bring on in that little prezzie of yours and we can get aaaall set up."

He gestures to the door and moves himself through the side one to meet inside, a spacious farmhouse set with a decently sized dining table and living room. It's obvious this was once a barn from the sweeping ceilings, and there seem to be large metal hangars bolted to the wall in a few points... which don't make a lot of sense until Taako comes in and returns to the kitchen, at which point he takes a detour over one of them, and Norman can see they're obviously meant for holding some of his snake tail out of the way while he's working. There's a pot and a few pans on the stovetop, and he moves to wash a tomato he's brought inside before moving it to the cutting board.

"Soooo, what did you end up deciding on for the uhhh, for the ol' drink tonight? Got some mixers in the fridge or we can just, uh, just raw dog it, whatever's the thing."

[certaininequities]

Between Chaboy and Fiddleford, Norman is beginning to form the opinion that naga are, as a whole, very chill people. He likes the energy he's getting here, and smiles as they shake hands.

Moving inside, he marvels at the architecture, the exposed beams: even growing up in New Haven, they didn't have buildings like this, and he's instantly charmed. Any confusion at the hangers is replaced with a bright smile as Taako crawls over them.

"Your house is beautiful," he says, coming to meet him at the counter so that he can set the bottles down. "I've seen so many different kinds of architecture and design here, it's always such a nice surprise to see how people live compared to New York." The use of the phrase 'raw dog' in reference to alcohol throws him off a bit, and he clears his throat, trying not to be An Old Guy about it. "... I brought a red and a white wine, since I wasn't sure what we were having. The clerk at the store told me they were good vintages ... I had to take him at his word, I'm still learning what's good quality around here."

'Good vintages' is a modest and massive understatement: Taako will likely recognize that Norman's brought The Nicest Cab Sav And Riesling In Bavan, hands down.

[pocketspa]

Nagas are the type of people whose personalities are bigger than their new bodies, which is a lot considering they're the penninsula's biggest monster by length. Also, people who appreciate good naps. In the meantime, he peers over as Norman speaks to actually look at the bottles, and his scaled eyebrows raise.

"Oh yeah, baby, I can work with this, dang. Now that's some fancy sips." He moves the bottle to his off hand and moves his other in a swirl; in a moment, a spectral hand appears behind him and lifts some slices of tomato off the cutting board, moving to place it on the pan. Meanwhile, Taako's flesh hand is mirroring it, though he isn't exactly looking. "Oh it's uhhh, it's chicken-- not the chickens here, they're like, fucking immortal, but still good shit. I think you could do either but uhh I am pre-tty sure I'm feelin' this red tonight."