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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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anon usernames: < arcanistic >
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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.
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"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."