Scene #9030: Orientation Meeting

Owner	Pose
Natsuki Nuki	The Concord operated its Partner program to recognize and accept certain Elites of excellence and particular outlook and traits and give them the support they needed to shape Sector Zero. A grueling process of skill or luck from outside applicants, the internal grindset tracks were just as fraught for the extreme competition in the Acquisitions, Finance, and Development arms of the Dorado's vast workings. Some people were scouted, but more found their place within the mafia den of monsters because they wanted to be in - because they were desperate to be in, because that was what they needed most. An enrichment they craved, a profit found no-place else. The Concord, in its great wisdom (of being led by several women who had already gotten through their social development, backed by a legion of lawyers) made a strong effort to find connections among members, and started a program to find Partners of tenure to mentor new members. Thus, Sougo and Woz, as a pair, were tapped to engage the newest member. Contact started first over messenger. >> Good afternoon! >> The Selection Committee gave me your contact info? >> It's a pleasure to work with you. >> Do you want to meet in person?
Timespace Riders	>> Hi! >> We'd love to. There's a lot to cover! >> Welcome to the Concord, esteemed colleague. >> Let's meet at the Grand Dorado! >> Punctuality is a speciality of ours, and time is kinder to us than to most. Simply let us know your most convenient window 1/2 >> and there we shall be, at such a time. 2/2 And exactly as Woz had said, at the appointed hour on the given day, the Demon King of Time and his trusted retainer arrive in a vortex of swirling grey fabric. The retainer, as he always does, is dressed in the apocalyptic uniform of a royal guard he has since defected from; an olive drab, double-breasted coat with sleeves open at the shoulders, his grey animate scarf, black leggings and zip-up ankle boots. Sougo, by comparison, wears a stylishly oversized two-tone pink button up in a paisley print, offset by rolled slacks in an earth tone that complement his trendy hiking boots. Yes, timbs. Sougo strides up to Natsuki and takes her hand in both of his for a whole-hearted, wide grinning handshake. "Hi, I'm Sougo. That's my retainer, Woz," he says. Woz places his free hand over his heart and offers Natsuki a bow at the waist. "Hail to you, Natsuki Nuki. I took the liberty of reserving a dining space for us," he says as he rises. "I hope the accomodations will be to your liking. Shall we?" With the book still tucked under his occupied hand, the free one sweeps towards the grandiose entrance of the business campus-slash-gallery-slash-temple to excellence.
Natsuki Nuki	>> I appreciate your welcome! >> It means quite a bit. >> I've never been to the Grand Dorado before! >> Please take care of me, Sougo-sempai, Woz-sempai <3 Some time passed. Then, one more message came. >> Have you ever met a yokai in person before? Later that day, as the boys unfurl from Woz's punctual scarf, the question makes it really clear - if their investigations into her file and her pictures on record - didn't. Natsuki's current form is an inhuman humanoid, a primarily-tiger woman with soft waves of golden orange fur striped from head to clawed pantherine toe and from broad neck across sinew-rounded shoulders down lean and muscled arms to the backs of large paw-hands. Where the white would be on a tiger is instead a dark russet brown fur with black underneath, a mask from eyes down orange-detailed broad-triangle of a felid nose and down neck like a spill that deepens across the core and belly to line the inside of thighs. The tiger stripes across the tops of her golden orange draped ribs connect at a focal point of vaguely arachnid black that sits atop a darker spot beneath. At the base of her spine is a thickly anchored black-scaled serpentine length of a tail, spine-patterned at the sides in little now-cautionary tiger orange diamonds and bellied in ridged ashen grey. Floor-length and then a curl and a half after that and tapering from its meeting point at Natsuki's back to a mandible-flanked 'stinger'-tip. Along the length of the tail, oval slits open as eye-holes looking out with red-irised slit-pupiled eyes in scaledark sclera pools. Atop Natsuki head is a carefully styled 'messy' ponytail of white, bangs uncaught by her cherry pink hair tie sprawling forward over Natsuki's face. Her own red eyes rest in black-lined parallelograms with artfully softened under-angles from her cheeks in jump-out white sclera. Like a halo around her cheeks, curlingly highlighting the underside of her pantherine jaw that triangle nose tops, orange patterns intermix with the near-black browns of her neck and tuft out from her cheeks. As she approaches, she seems enormous, in relation to everyone else, wearing a navyblue-black buttoned sweater with only the bottom three of six buttons sorted and the left shoulder slid off, a pink--red-black-white plaid skirt that ends mid-thigh, a white collared shirt her fuzz pours out of the top two undone buttons of and a loose plaid tie matching her skirt loosely wrapped about her neck. Each of her black claws has a glittery polish applied to the wicked curls, and about her ankles is the thick white ruffles of a tube sock that functions for her more like a detached legging. Then, the closer she gets, the smaller she gets, until when she's before the two men Natsuki is a much less neck-craning 5'9" or so, every stalking-forward by tail-swaying construction step telescoping her approach so that both get a long look at a short walk. When she reaches them, though, it's certainly well within both men's ability to read great animation and understandable ticks into her face as long as they spend a second looking. Specifically: A little bit of star struckedness, a heartbubbly wonder. "The king of time, Zi-O!" Natsuki's tigerpaw hands are large enough Sougo might not be able to get his whole grip around hers as an act of digital wingspan, but it's less of an issue when she leans in and takes his shaking hand in both of her silkpillow soft hands and shaking with a restrained (for those arms, clearly) enthusiasm. "And his future-wielding herald, Woz."
Natsuki Nuki	Natsuki turns to take up Woz's hand in hers, the tingly feeling left by her touch the pleasant wash of a pepper after the enjoyment of a spicy food with the 'spicy food' of question being her velvet grip. Her open paws are wide for another shake, expectant-- he bows-- --and Natsuki closes her hands to fists that drop to her sides and smiles, black-lipped. The long tail at her back ripples, having been at her left flank to study Sougo, now shifts to her right to stare up at Woz. "I'm Natsuki." She agrees, momentarily flashing a tiny annoyance, and then raising a glittering claw-tipped finger slowly. "My family name reminds me of my father, whom I hate. Please call me 'Lady Nue'," She seems to like saying that, purring it gently. "Or, just Natsuki." A little bit of that excitement returns, a delight in being seen to. "Oh, please, lead the way, I'm starved."
Timespace Riders	Sougo beams as his hand is engulfed by Natsuki's, and sunnily confirms: "That's us! Haha." His eyes drift, slightly. "Wow," Sougo says through a little admiring laugh, without realizing he'd said it aloud, after a peek at her arms. Please call me 'Lady Nuem' or just Natsuki. "Of course. I beg your pardon, Lady Nue. " A slight, deferential inclination of his head. His tone seems to imply that he likes the ring of the title. "Right this way, please." The herald leads Natsuki and his king alike past checkpoints meant to give glimpses at the apex of Dorado's opulence, through black marble-floored halls upon which his boots ceremoniously click with his even, usherly pace. He walks with purpose, but leisure, the luxury of those with the influence to forestall the important work their station demands. In so doing, this means that Sougo and Natsuki keep the same pace, and thus affect the same importance, even if their individual gaits may not match his measured tempo. "As you may have noticed by the art which accompanies us during our stroll," says Woz, with a grandiloquent sweep of his hand towards minimalist columns etched with evocative designs, "And as you shall surely see from the refreshments offered herein, we of the Concord settle for only the best. Today, we shall satisfy your temporal appetite. It is my hope that we shall also make today an aperitif for your appetite for success." Sougo hmms thoughtfully as they enter into a reception area for those awaiting meetings. Storefronts of in-house restaurants lie appealingly behind etched frosted plate glass. "They told us a little about you," he says. "But I can never feel like I know someone with just one or two sentences, you know? Can I ask why you joined? What you're looking to get out of being a partner?" The destination is a French Haute cuisine establishment, the perfect sort of place to be found within this monument to excellence. The interior decor compliments the black marble halls and minimalism of the Apex--white plaster walls, black tablecloths, polished slate tile floors, with booths and dining chairs upholstered in black leather. Wall decor tends towards a theme: portraits of zebras, black-white optical illusions, and tastefully-clashing ornate mirrors with elaborate gold frames. Gentle blue light washes over the surroundings, radiating from abstract chandeliers placed tactically to make artful use of shadows and boundaries. The trio are led to their table, which is adorned with napkins bound and folded to resemble cranes. Appetizers on offer include duck confit, Alsatian onion tart, stuffed and roasted mushrooms, and steamed mussels, as well as a selection of three different types of salad. Woz opts for a French country salad, Sougo for the roasted stuffed mushrooms.
Natsuki Nuki	At 'wow' and a dipping gaze, Sougo is given a slow shoulder-shift and weight adjust of a practiced show-off and flagrant flaunt, the depth of the king's daring-eyed avarice drawing an encouraging-agreeing roll of a purring 'mmmrrn'. Even wrapped in an expressively-loose sweater-jacket, the muscular roll of her arm levering in and fist closing strains the soft sleeve's fabric while she gives Sougo back his eyes-and-then-some. Roving to find what part wows him the most with a little sway like this and a tail-centered sway to the other side like that shifting as she begins to walk. She is trying to catch both men's eyes, everyone's eyes, but especially Sougo and Woz's. Especially Sougo's, so clearly wowed by the Lady Nue. While she walks, her tail spills onto the ground as a slithering drag, undulating against the Dorago's floor in uncanny reverse, ridged belly leaving a dry wake across the marble and stone and wood. "They sent the best to meet the best." Natsuki agrees with Woz assuredly, giving a special glance or two to Sougo besides her while they talk and walk. "But just for appetizers, Woz, I worked to become a Partner to see if my temporal appetitie can be sated. If anyone can, it would be the Concord." Closed-eyed for a moment, meditative-searching, it rolls from her further as their paces match in her languid strides. "Where I'm from, belief - street legends, rumors, stories, traditions - is a power." Opening her eyes, black-detailed crimson, the vertical slits narrow slightly and then dilate again as they pass through into the resturant. "I can be my father's smiling slave, or a wandering curse, or, I can be legendary. Even more than I've become." As they sit, since she's being guided and tended to by Woz, it's the retainer that gets the wondering-cute (drawingly-indulgent) tone to, "You've both read my profile carefully, haven't you?" Sougo, seated next, and across from Natsuki, gets the karaoke booth intimacy of a leaned-in expression. "The Concord isn't just like minded people to us." Already, the 'us', "It's the... intimacy of trust, and the goal of power. I believe I can be more as a member. It's the way the world works," She sits back, dipping left leg and carefully crossing over the right. Noticing Sougo and Woz each get one... "I'll have the confit, and the mussels." She gets two for herself. They did say they'd feed her!
Timespace Riders	Between the king and his retainer, the latter is more reserved in his appreciation, though not so much that it doesn't show. A side-eye, twinkling with inviting, coy amusement, conspires with a slight upturn at his lip. Sougo isn't dumb; in terms of the wants of people, and the language of those wants, he's quite inquisitive and intelligent. It doesn't take many of Natsuki's little gestures for him to receive the message she's sending. It's just that he hadn't realized he'd hit the send button on his--not that he minds what he gets back. His cheeks pinken, he smiles bashfully, and he looks briefly away, if only to spend his time walking regaining his composure, also. Where I'm from, belief - street legends, rumors, stories, traditions - is a power. "I'd be a little doubtful if anyone said those things weren't a power," says Sougo, to an approving, agreeing nod from Woz. You've both read my profile carefully, haven't you? "I pride myself on my attention to detail, Lady Nue," Woz answers, offering his best coy smile, his brown eyes still and fixed on her yet seeming to dance all the same. "You will find that I and my Demon King are nothing if not studious, in our way." It's the... intimacy of trust, and the goal of power. I believe I can be more as a member. It's the way the world works. Sougo smiles wide, nodding once with enthusiasm. "That's what we're here for, yeah! And your profile mentioned a little bit about that, too--wanting to be 'more.' Is that part of..." His smile turns a shade curious, his eyes flicking downwards in thoughtful search of words. "Well, once you have the power of a legend, what do you want to do with it?" The staple of haute cuisine is excellence in ingredients and presentation. The portions are not skimped on, but they are arranged and plated beautifully. The duck is prepared in the traditional way--cured, rubbed with soft, sweet garlic and delicate, boreal-flowery thyme, cooked low and slow over hours, speaking to the scale of the operation in this restaurant's back of house. Artfully sliced and portioned bird is served like a golden-brown hoard of treasure on a bed of fresh and full-bodied leafy greens, with sliced potatoes flanking it like a small dune of coins, lightly fried in the bird's own fat. It's meltingly tender, paired well with the fluffy fried potatoes and the crisp lettuce. Gleaming black, steaming Prince Edward Island mussels--sweet, farm raised, cooked in a light, crisp Sauvignon blanc-based sauce, its dry sweetness mingling with theirs, with the gentle heat of black pepper and the more bold taste of its red half-cousin, the savory-sweet wash of finely-cut shallots, and (this is a French dish, after all) the lurking, delicious influence of butter. Parsley rests in the mix, floating like beautiful islands or else clung to open mussels like laurels. A generous chunk of baguette is provided to enjoy that broth to the fullest, plus a small bowl for spent shells. Woz chastely saws and chews at his salad, while Sougo eagerly spears generously, expertly stuffed mushrooms--though delicious as the food is, neither can keep their focus off of Natsuki for long. "Lady Nue," begins Woz. "In the interest of strengthening that intimate trust, I wonder if there are any designs with which we might assist in the near future?"
Natsuki Nuki	The Lady Nue, while young by the standards of powerful businesspeople - a mere 21, if her file is right - has the presence and power of a born hostess. She follows the gaze of both Partners across from her with an easy attention, giving one 'something to look at' and a curious-knowing look as she picks up the spillage of 'blessings' from Sougo's lips and drives forward to capture more than just his attention and a slip of his honesty. She's expressive with her hands, and generous with flexing her hands, extending out a black-padded paw of a hand to both men as if to show off the perfect curve of each glitter-glossed black claw nail and the broad span of her warm-furred digits. She closes the hand slowly, flexingly, curling the fingers in to squeeze as she speaks. "Not a power in the funny way, Zi-O. A power in the way that Woz weilds." Casually, warmly sly, she drops that hint that she didn't just read the two sentence description of her hosting Partners either. Fist flexed closed, she curls up the hand and drops her excavatingly intense red gaze down to the nails now pointed at her, inspecting them for flaws by slow flick of habit. "In my hometown, if someone writes a blog about a sluice gate Kappa, then, there'll be a Kappa in that sluice gate. And people are thankful for that, because Tokyo is a spiritual fashion mess, and a hub of spiritual activity. I want that big city life, this--" Her eyes meet Woz's, meet Sougo's, and rolls out their table and towards the door, to the Apex and Dorado, and split into a sabertoothed smile as her black lips curl back across toothwhite. "This life, for me, I belong here, and not in... sluice gate podunk. Not seeing to my absent father's meager Earthly holdings and getting a trickster's scraps of praise from the table of the gods." Her paw turns down, clicking taut the white tablecloth on the table. "It's just that there's these aliens soaking up all that big city attention." Natsuki shrugs and rolls her eyes, waving off her paw-hand in a safe arc on her side of the table that dismisses the moment of frustration - of interruption that an alien invasion made on her plans. "It's hard to get much of anything done. But with my new temple opened, and my Partnership accepted, things are looking ex-cellent." The chimeric tigress shifts hands together, fingertips rolling together smoothly, proprioceptively perfect and mesmerizing in synchronicity of her clawclicks. Her previous rolling idea of a good time had been aimed specifically at the pair before her. "I am the Lady Nue - I can be this, me - because the legend is one I can put my name on, and grow, and start from the Heisei period for history books in a thousand years. Doesn't that sound nice, King of Time? I was--" Her intent rolls off of her, their table warm as she dominates the space with her arms, taking up room and soaking up gaze while her tail coils and entwines through the bars of the chair beneath her, the stem of the table between them, audible as the creak and click of spines against the sides of wood and the sussural scrap of ridges against woodplank. Beneath Sougo's foot, and past Woz's leg, the roaming serpentine tail makes present-gliding contact as Natsuki fills up the space under tablecloths and between the posts of wooden chairs. As their conversation continues, so too does the feeling - the knowing - of every rumble and rattle and creak being caused by the most minute of adjustments of the yokai the men were entertaining. Of her eager anticipation. Of her spreading, deeping interest. "--so very, very excited to see that I was being mentored by a Demon King, and their retainer. And like one, you arrive from heaven-cloth, and I was so excited I had to match, and then, ah..."
Natsuki Nuki	Her face opens into an honest smile while her expression dips, her mood opening her lips again as she speaks with hushed emphasis. "I'm sure a King of Time, whose legend gathers up the powers of all other heroes, kindest, strongest, understands me completely. Even if I am a demon, the grandest legend can be a beneficent one in the end." Woz, savvy, knows that it's elementary to do research of your interviewer, and Sougo's dreams aren't exactly hidden - they're practically shouted. She's about to launch into more when the food arrives! The break from the jousting with words comes with another round of jousting with eyes, as Natsuki settles in, adjusting her seating posture to be flatfooted and daintily uncraning a napkin to tuck it gently into her overflowing neckbuttons, bibbing over her tie with a span of cloth tucked in with the careful-again curl of a finger, showing off for both boys while she settles up for eating. She spends a course contemplating each man across. For the duck confit, while Sougo spears plump mushroom generously and eagerly, Natsuki reaches forward first with her thumb and forefingers of her right paw to lift from bone up, dripping fine the gravy-jus down from the rounded tip of the piece back down onto the bed of greens and potatoes. Sougo's chair experiences a gentle but sudden scooch-in, drawn-in by the serpentine-tail muscular motion to watch a show just for him. Natsuki lifts the leg to pantherine face and opens sharp-toothed mouth to maneuver the duckbone pendulum past the palisades of her pearl-white prominent teeth on guiding touch of her tongue, to snap secured around the bone and let dangling fingers rotate down, lolipop-like around the bone between them. There, staring at Sougo, she rolls the duckleg with her fingers, slurping the bone clean as it rotisseries between fingers. When clean - licked so, scoured so - she presents the bone with a lip pop, proud for a second, having silently willed every crisp-skinned crackle, every flesh-wet squish and smear, turned decadent with effort, every connective tissue parting pop into the King's ears. Just so when the bone goes back into her mouth, to her mouth with no molars for chewing, there is the yet-louder sound of bone crunch - snapping, compressing, crushing - and the all-tongue action of a smile and swallow. After, Natsuki goes about lifting her fork and knife to artfully finish her potatoes and salad with the warmth of a shared joke. It's not long before the mussels arrive, these not requiring such things as utensils. While staring at the dutiful sawing of the retainer, Natsuki draws perfect buttered jewels in-shell to her black lips and cunning-quick slurps out and clean the butterflied shellfish with a little slurp, discarding drop into shell, and careful selection for sequel. She holds the stare while eating, considering the melted golden butter and shallot zest over each umami-pop shell-trove and something else while she stares down the other man and her tongue works its magic. When confronted with broth and bread, she lifts the bowl the mussels came in like a teadish. Lifting the dish up to head level Woz's chair does a tip of its own, she tilts back and drinks down the rich butter-broth like a dare drink, an appreciative gulp offered to the glaze as she lowers the bowl and goes to tear the bread to small scraps and daub them into the remainder, her mouthsides glistening just gently gold over the black of her lips. Woz asks her a question, and she answers while dispatching her bread, boys' chairs returnint to their position as the squeeze of surging intent eases and ebbs off like a tide and not a twining tail. "I was thinking we could..." Purring. "Scrrratch each other's backs? It would be so much better if I helped you gained something you wanted, and you gave me... something important to you?"
Timespace Riders	@emit Doesn't that sound nice, King of Time? I was-- Sougo nods eagerly, his eyes locked on Natsuki, the delicious appetizer an afterthought. The excited anticipation of forming a reply to a captivating conversational partner then visibly jolts and sizzles and short circuits as he feels something brush against him beneath the table. He nearly drops his fork, but one look at her expression invites a small, bashful little smile to spread across his soft features. Woz's fork rests, tines parallel to the plate, eyes twinkling and silently goading her further, as if to indulgently say 'Go on.' Even if I am a demon, the grandest legend can be a beneficent one in the end. "If the people of your world only knew what they had," Woz says, as Natsuki preens for their benefit, "They would write a bounty of legends fitting your magnificence, and deliver unto you in abundance the blessings you so deserve." "But there is a certain pleasure to forging them one's self, is there not?" He smiles. "An appeal to... correcting and elucidating the masses." Sougo, drawn in by Natsuki's tail, makes a soft noise of startlement--but surprises can be good things. Not so much as an errant twitch of the hand, or a retreat of his foot occurs. Crunch. The Demon King's cheeks flush; he tugs at his collar before he can stop the connection between his racing mind and his treasonous eyes, following the disappeared, snapped bown down the curve of her neck. "Does it seem a little warm in here to you guys? Haha..." He almost seems a little disappointed when Natsuki releases their chairs--a good kind, the way that sometimes an ache means a muscle has been worked.
Timespace Riders	I was thinking we could... Scrrratch each other's backs? It would be so much better if I helped you gained something you wanted, and you gave me... something important to you? "I'd love to," Sougo blurts out with precious zeal. He's hooked. Woz knows it, and smiles coyly, giving him a half-amused, half-approving side-eye. "Recently, I have been forced to consider that there is a particular area in which we are at a disadvantage," he begins. "As we learned from an aptitude test put together by a respected colleague, my Demon King and I have little recourse against opponents who attack from the water--and even with a power like the one I wield, we do not always have the luxury of avoiding such foes." "However," he says, his salad neatly finished, "I can wield the future in more than just a figurative sense. There is a Rider who may one day come to pass--thanks to the Concord's dear friend Kougami, no less." "If he can be... nurtured, adequately," says Woz, his eyes delighting at the term as would a friend's at a mischievous in-joke, "He shall overcome his fears of inadequacy and mantle the power entrusted to him." Woz smiles, the cat that got the canary. "And if he does so in my presence, that power may be... imprinted and enshrined for my own use in the present." Sougo beams. "How can we scratch your back, Natsuki? " he asks, adorably eager just to hear her thoughts. "That is... there are lots of things that are important to me, but lots of those things are things that I wouldn't really know how to give someone. And a few are things I can't afford to. Do you mean... blessings?" Interested in helping--delighted to, in fact. But needing a little handholding to see what she's getting at. The trio is given some time to properly enjoy their appetizers, and to peruse the menu for main courses, before the waiter returns and asks for orders. The offerings: grilled filet mignon with truffled parmesan potatoes and jus, sea bass with ratatouille, pan roasted duck breast with creamy polenta, seared scallops with couscous and basil cream sauce, veal cutlet with mixed rice and a mushroom brandy sauce, a bourbon salmon fillet with mixed vegetable quinoa and chimichurri sauce, seared chicken with roasted garlic mashed potatoes and jus, truffle parmesan potato gnocchi, or fresh tagliatelle. Woz opts for the veal cutlet, Sougo for the sea bass.
Natsuki Nuki	Drinking down the attention of the two Riders as water on the table, the gazes shamelessly guided and given a sizzling show. It's nothing like 'she wants to impress them' - Natsuki aggressively knows she is impressive, worthy of legend, and rumbles with the dynamo performance of a captivated audience in agreement. Sougo, foolishly honest and acting far quicker than he thinks, and with Natsuki goaded by Woz's 'go on' indulgence, feels more than a tickle and brush as time goes on. Their table is a nest of infinite-seeming scale and span, muscularly occupied by the looping, layering grasp of the chimera's dark tail. The legroom underneath becomes more occupied, the slow slither slipping behind an ankle and around a calf, under the ball of the foot and over the arch, sliding about and among and between the dangerously dangling limbs of the two tabled partners. Tugging away, or out from the slowly-shifting wrap is easy at first, but relaxing into it means there's a loop of thick-scaled muscle, and then another, stacking until there's a sign of disapproval -- or until both men are dipped from below the knee in ridged-warm entanglement that flows froom the base of the chimera's spine. If the people of your world only knew what they had, In the wake of a loaf of bread parted and plucked of crust and fluff to dawdle through the drizzles of butter sauce, Natsuki's fingertip preening ends with a snap of succulent soaked bread being soppingly flicked into a snap of her mouth. "Another reason to join the Concord - those 'if only' wants." The plates are swept away by the staff and sensing - tail-seeing - intruding hands, the chimeric tigress napkins off her claws with a drag across cloth and sits back to be allow their table to be tended to. "Do people in your world recognize you completely? I doubt it. Your complete legend - it's yet-to-be-realized." An appeal to... correcting and elucidating the masses. It's not a purr, a pleased rumble, a subvocalized vibration of intensity that rattles out of Natsuki but an avian giggle, a birdsong 'hyoo-hyoo-hyoo' chirping from her throat in girlish laughter. Like a thrush caught in her throat, she sings in amusement. "You really might understand, Woz." The man who gazed at the text-tapestry of Time with a vizier's eyes, of course, must know her in a unique way. "It's so much more than just letting things be decided for you. But you're so so so right!" Excitement is easy to read, wide eyes dialated open and beholding, the curl of swallowed-birdsong still escaping her broad nose as trilling amusement. I'd love to. A toothy-wide grin, peeled back from her long and curled-out eyeteeth, marks the chimera-yokai's consummation-in-agreement. "We shall both love it, I'm sure, my Demon King." Natsuki purrs, an steeples her paws once more to click claws together and tilt her chin and leave her white ponytail so artfully across dark blue jacketed shoulder. Woz's commission becomes, for a moment, her sole attention.
Natsuki Nuki	Her sole attention that isn't casting glances at Sougo from the corner of her eyes, that is, always catching him looking when he guiltily checks high with a growingly assured-confident look. Oh, she knows, she knows, and she wears it so. "I'm not the expert at motivating men..." Natsuki contemplates her foreclaws, tapped together, sly for a moment. "I can make a meeting happen, though. Of course, I think I might even know who to tell to make it happen exactly how you'd like, and then, you can attain your own... self-crafting help." And then, dear Sougo turns the topic to how they can help her. "Mmm..." The waterfall of clawclicks stops at three of four, indexes hesitating open. "You could, of course, consider it. I'll take your. . . promise," A roaming look of her eye. "Among other things, and we can find out what 'that' you might offer me for 'this'. I'd want it to be special - something between us." The top claws click in, and Natsuki is considering-thoughtful. While she does, she orders the filet and the scallops - two dishes, again.
Timespace Riders	Neither the king nor his retainer give any sign of disapproval nor make an effort to escape. Sougo even timidly, gradually relaxes into it--the sensation is new and a little overwhelming to him, clearly, but whether or not he should, he trusts Natsuki. It's so much more than just letting things be decided for you. But you're so so so right! Woz smiles coyly, inclining his head in a preening show of thanks. "As ever I aspire to be," he says. "Anyone may read. Comprehenshion, however, demands more than only what the eyes may see." Every time Natsuki catches Sougo looking, and rewards him for it with that expression, he becomes a little less timid about doing it, and a little more warmly glowing in his admiration, like the slowly opening petals of a flower. I think I might even know who to tell to make it happen exactly how you'd like, and then, you can attain your own... self-crafting help. "Excellent." Among other things, and we can find out what 'that' you might offer me for 'this'. I'd want it to be special - something between us. "Um, I think I like the sound of that," says Sougo as if dreaming. "Haha. I'm sure we can find something personal, right, Woz?" "Indeed, sire," says Woz, highly pleased with himself--and shooting Natsuki a conspiratorial smile. "Perhaps, Lady Nue, you might make an occasion of it--visit my Demon King's home and partake of our hospitality as well as our blessings?" "Oh, I'd love that," says Sougo excitedly, all but tripping over himself to speak up and eagerly wiggling in his seat--and in Natsuki's tail. Woz smiles satisfiedly to himself. The entrees are brought out! Natsuki's filet mignon is, as it should be, deliciously tender. This is, however, a Concord facility, and there is no skimping on portion here; no expense must be spared and no statement of success or excellence left implied. Truffled, roasted potatoes in pleasantly large wedges are bites of fluffy, garlicky goodness, with light parmesan snowfall for that extra sweet-savory touch. The bourguignon jus, drizzled like tiger stripes over the meat, makes a small waterfall off the back end of the cut, perfect for dabbling those fluffy potatoes in. The couscous served with her scallops is a French take on the original North African article, a little mountain of fluffy steamed semolina pellets, made into a volcano by a beef stew ladled over top, complete with carrots, potatoes, and turnips, diced finely to make a coloful mosaic of the pyroclastic flow. The scallops themselves are delicious looking little sea-cakes, seared to a pleasant golden brown, another in a procession of treasures given unto the Lady Nue. They rest arranged in a cross, in a sea of creamy white sauce, a wonderful savory pairing with the elegant hint of basil as its chaperone and artful trails of parsley sprinkled between the scallops. "Wow," says Sougo, of his bass--the first such compliment he's given to the food over Natsuki. "It's practically melting in my mouth!" "I am pleased to see you both enjoy my choice of venue," says Woz. Watching Natsuki's particular way of savoring her food, he adds, "Very much pleased," with a little spark of mischievous admiration in his eye and the curl of his lip. "I feel like could watch her enjoy that stuff all day," says Sougo softly, hitting 'send' on a message for the second time without realizing it.
Natsuki Nuki	Dangling feet are sure to be wrapped up by the 'monster under the table', so storybook as to be elemental, so realized as to be felt. Whether or not Sougo should trust the red-eyed tigress giving him goading looks isn't clear as she catches him admiring her figure. But, as it goes, he does so less and less timidly, sighing wistfully and bashfully blushingly bleating out little kingly approvals of his mentee's 'abilities'. In response, Natsuki continues to press just a tiny bit higher and tighter, her roving tail shifting with woodstraining creaks and coiled-span creeps that pulls Sougo back flush to the table by dragging his chairlegs closer. As before, and with no hindrance to the Demon King's arms or eating beyond what reaction it causes in him, his chest bumps the clothed wood of the table pulled snug, and the curtail falls over his lap. The creeping mandibled-stinger of her tail slides over Sougo's thighs beneath the veil, his relaxation drawing one greedy pass, and then a avaricious second wrapping-bind, knotting him to the chair and fitting him snugly down before centipede-creeping a loop from beneath the cloth curtain about his waist and back. Squirming becomes fruitless and warm struggle against the sticky motion-sluggishness of being a non-Newtonian position. A slow motion shifts the squeeze, but fighting or fretting makes her tighten down. A prelude to the main course. Favoring Woz with the 'business' and Sougo with the 'pleasure' end of their meal of sumptuous delicasies, Natsuki nods confirmingly firm at 'Excellent', her easy expression still intense if only for her eyes fixing Woz with a dilating stare. "Comprehension." The Lady Nue repeats, relishing the word on her tongue. "That's a rare offer - a rare ability. And you can't just --" Natsuki reaches out, as if to place her large hand on Woz's face. That shown-off, well polished muscular closing tension snaps her hand closed short of doing so, though he can feel like needlepoint gusts four gentle scrapes across his face. "--grip it, take, it--" The closed fist turns, sweater-jacket sleeve bulged around wrist and forearm. "--because then it's in you, and not in them. It's precious," The fist drops to the table softly, and Natsuki smiles behind her display. "-people who understand. And I haven't found a legend that curses people with knowledge, only terrible terrible opinions, and--" Another birdlike giggle, scraping a fur-shifting glitterblack pair if claws down from her eye. "--dark cracks around the eyes from the loose secrets sloshing behind them. No, no." Natsuki favors Woz for a second, 'serious' as she is sultrily seizing Sougo on the side. "You're a precious treasure yourself, Woz. If you'd," Natsuki gives the giddily gaze-grazing Sougo a side-eye all-knowing, then returns to Woz. "-like another reason I joined the Concord. So, if you're offering the blessings of your home..." The chimeric tigress places her hand atop her proudly hanging-tied and fluff-bibbed chest. "I will of course gladly partake of your personal hospitality."
Natsuki Nuki	As innocent and unchangingly-engaged faced as she can be, moving from photoworthy pose to pose as she talks and her eye-seamed tail evermore tightly grips Sougo to his chair - grips both together and shiftingly-layeringly squeezes and ripples like an encroaching tide and 'arm'-about waist that keeps his kingly posture perfect and stares back seamed with staring eyes if Sougo spies a peek down. The arrival of food marks a moment for Natsuki to sit back and adjust herself a third time, sitting in and shifting her utensils with slight thumb scoots to make room for her generous pair of platings. Sougo moves as well, a chair adjustment as if to shift him from admiration to... eating, and also admiration. A little motion as plates arrive is natural, and otherwise Sougo has no control of his chair. "Your choice of venue for appetizers one of the best I've ever been treated to, Woz," She purrs with that same senior-praising tone she took in text. "I'm so very much looking forward for you taking me out for a main course." She insinuates, locked eyes with Woz as she dips quarterwise over the filet plate and with meat-jellying claws sinking into butter-tender filet, draws the generous steak up like a whole savory-sweet round of butter, and with a wide-opening snap and a drawing curl of tongue slurps up all but little jewels of filet on her claws, so much more tender than raw flesh and processed. To a point it is butter to her, and a richly built offering for her whim, so she treats it as decadently such, cleaning each claw with a squiggly-lick of satisfaction. This time, her appreciation is all nasal, a puff of hot breath and a satisfied closing of her eyes. "I might be satisfied with filet, after that." She admits, coy back, as there might be no way this place really 'satisfies' her temporal hunger at all. But, it's being sampled with certain sorts, and that is as relished as the jewels of meat being cleaned from each digit. I feel like could watch her enjoy that stuff all day, "Wish sweetly, my Demon King, and you will have all that and more from me. I have such a wealth to share, I think." Natsuki assures, finger piercing the center of a scallop and pointing the golden medallion at Sougo, turns the broad paw, and curls the finger back to guide scallop to teeth and tongue. After the scallops are wicked from plate to palate by claw and tongue, Natsuki exhales and settles back. Again, ebbing as a tide, slackening as she turns to the more mundane tasks of eating potatoes and spoons of couscous with the sampling pleasure of someone dealing back the respect to a craftsman of judging the whole work, the wrapping-trapping tail gives Sougo room to breathe again, though the slackening isn't an uncurling. He's still pretty stuck, lap 'sat on' and waist held from across the table.
Timespace Riders	"Um..." The tail across his lap has him feeling warmly, giddily light-headed, like his skin is all that stops him from melting and slipping through the grasp of Natsuki's tail. The squeeze-- "O-oh, haha..." audibly builds new pathways in his brain. He tugs at his collar, suddenly very aware of being in public, and now eating faster and with more performative effort than before. The fish is all but flying off of the bone, in polite timelapse, as if his fork and knife were a swarm of seafloor scavengers hosting a whalefall party. It's precious, people who understand. And I haven't found a legend that curses people with knowledge, only terrible terrible opinions, and-- Woz's lips curl in shared amusement with her musical giggle. He glances over at Sougo, in that conspiratorial in-joke kind of way, a silent 'they're like this' written on his face. Sougo laughs and nods nervously between sprinting towards a clean plate, struggling to manage mental bandwidth. This only seems to amuse Woz further. I will of course gladly partake of your personal hospitality. "How wonderful," says Woz with politely restrained but genuine exuberance, his chin lifted high as one might raise a glass. "We are both delighted to hear it--though I expect my Demon King may have trouble saying so at present... for whatever reason." "Haha..." It's not often Woz is the one teasing Sougo. He's enjoying it. I'm so very much looking forward for you taking me out for a main course. "As am I, Lady Nue. A discerning palate like yours must be duly rewarded--and, of course, your earthly form well supplied for your inevitable ascent to the heavens." Woz watches, with naked appreciation, and Sougo, with dazzled awe, as the filet disappears. "I shall take your appetites as a challenge worthy of my diligent training in the various arts demanded of my station." Appetites. Arts. Plural. Wish sweetly, my Demon King, and you will have all that and more from me. I have such a wealth to share, I think. Sougo coughs, covering his mouth and nearly choking on a sauce-sipped morsel of fish. Pounding his chest and getting it down, "...did I say that out loud? Gosh..." He's done, at least, dabbing his lips with the napkin and setting it gently on the table. "I, um... think that we're going to get along really well, Natsuki," he admits behind a bashful smile, as his hand rests below the table without a thought. He remembers, then, that her tail is in the spot he'd thought to rest his hand--but he doesn't particularly care. "I think I know what I can give you--how about I keep it as a surprise for when you come and visit us?" His smile almost seems deviously eager.
Natsuki Nuki	It's the hurry that Sougo goes about his meal, the conscious flutter and well-felt runaway race of the Demon King's heart that makes Natsuki back off, in the end. Giving her seniors a strong feeling of her style, her intensity, and earning a practically-squeaking promise for more is a grand accomplishment of her goal - pushing further would be doing so on one of her first days, and even a bit of playful flirting at dinner had limits. Fully pleased with the impression she had left in the dazed Sougo and extracting the promise of secret gifts in the future, she gives one last squeeze as he cleans his plate and then, with a deliberate slackening, 'unties' Sougo as surreptitiously as a tail twisted about chair can be, considering most of the fine wooden accommodation appears to be a nest of vipers. A loop remains over lap, though not two-thick. "For whatever reason." Natsuki agrees, conspiratorially sure whom they were talking about as the stammering Sougo's 'whatever reason' with a birdsong giggle, whistlebright and high. "We can work out any 'communication issues'." A curledfang grin. "I'm surre." She rolls her confidence in throaty rumble, all for Woz. Sougo got the direct squeeze, after all. Joining Woz in the appreciation of Sougo's angelic-kingly expression, the 'kindest Demon King of Time' assigned to mentor her, being absolutely spun about can please her openly because of Woz's equally open goading. "You did say that out loud." She confirms, only to be taken aback by the audacious flattery of Woz. "My--" 'Earthly form' is quite a turn of the tongue, and to speak of supplies curls orange brow into an interested lift. "You must have a plan as well then, Woz. I'm looking forward to both equally, I think. How ex-citing!"The fingers-flexing-closed emphasis of 'citing!' is chirp-bright. "I've been called challenging before, but you make it sound so pleasing. Most people I challenge take it so much worse." Sougo dips a hand to rest in his lap and instead it rests atop the dark span of black scales in his lap, fingers able to find the ridges at the side, and the seams flanking reaching-resting arm and staring eyes up towards the Demon King from his temporarily claimed lap. Then, one brush after, the very solid span of muscle smears, sludging off leg and retreating as a thick swell back away, a cloud with mass. Followed anyway, grinning in time to 'get along really well''s bashful smile, Natsuki tracks to Woz on 'final' time, curling up a confident grin. "And I didn't have use karaoke or a fight - he's going to love me." Glancing about, the chimeric tigress has one secret question for the majordomo of the meeting: "Is there dessert?" Another sweater-armed lean onto the half-cleared table follows. "Or will that also be 'more private?'"
Timespace Riders	Sougo goes slack in his seat like a runner after a long marathon, letting the back of his chair do the lifting. His fingers startle when they find her tail, but remain, even daring to gently trace as if in thanks. It's fleeting, that gesture, lasting only so long as it takes for Natsuki to withdraw. The greatest, kindest Demon King of Time isn't the sort to be sad that something is over--rather, his gentle glow could only be the most honest appraisal of gratitude that it happened at all. You must have a plan as well then, Woz. The retainer's eyes sparkle, little brown whirlpools an invitation to misadventure. 'Always,' says that catty slow-blink and smiling look to the side. I've been called challenging before, but you make it sound so pleasing. Most people I challenge take it so much worse. Woz indulges a throaty, knowing chuckle. "Truly? I am hardly surprised. Most people construe the aimless pablum of their daily lives as 'overcoming challenges,'" he says. Now that he's finished, he's free to gesticulate in his usual grandiose fashion--which he does, sweeping a palm towards Natsuki as one would for only the most rare and fleeting of life's treasures. "And when something or someone comes along which truly tests them, they are prepared only to flee, to flail or pitch a childish tantrum." And I didn't have use karaoke or a fight - he's going to love me. "I suspect he shall not be alone in his opinion, Lady Nue." Is there dessert? "No," comes Woz's secret answer, his hand resting on his chin to frame his teasing smile. "If only because I long to see whether my own cooking shall prove worthy of the same... effusive praise you have given here today. I dare say I grow more envious by the minute." "Mm," says Sougo to the returning waiter, obliviously, yet charmingly appropriate despite it--"I'm stuffed! I don't think I could handle dessert." Woz smirks. "Just so, sire," he says, nodding his head and returning to a more readily conversational tone. "I shall meditate upon a gift of my own, Lady Nue," says the retainer, as he rises alongisde Sougo. "And await with bated breath your next summons." "It was really, really good to meet you, Natsuki," says Sougo, still a little airy. The two of them depart after a pair of smiles, angelic and impish, are flashed her way.