Nathaniel waits outside of the Mexican restaurant as it starts to get closer to the agreed upon time. In his attempt to not be late, he ended up getting here a bit early. He got here about twenty minutes early and sat in his car for ten before getting out to stand near the entrance. It actually feels a little odd to be meeting Taraga after denying him all this time. After dodging Taraga's attempts to make some sort of plans with him, it feels weird to be standing here and waiting for him. Maybe this whole thing'll end up being a mistake or maybe it won't. Maybe they should've just stuck to texting or maybe not. Only one way to find out.
Despite saying that he had to finish getting ready, he doesn't look much different than he did in the pictures he sent to Taraga. A few more rings, some earrings (two in each ear), a long black jacket and his hair is a little more styled than it was. Hands in his jacket pockets, Nate leans back against the outer wall of the restaurant, watching every person who walks up or walks past.
My spell check keeps offering "taragon" as an alternative to "taraga" lmao
Taraga's a little early, too. Not quite as early as Nathaniel. Nathaniel's already out of his car waiting near the entrance when Taraga pulls up on his bike. If not for the mention of his motorcycle earlier, Nathaniel would have no real way of knowing it might be Taraga since the visor of his helmet is tinted black. But once he takes it off, here he is in all his mullet'd glory.
He's dressed pretty conservatively (by his standards) in black trousers and a long-sleeved black turtleneck with a grey button down, opened and tucked in. All his jewelry is silver, a few chain style necklaces of varying lengths and thickness, and a couple rings on each hand. Nathaniel should count himself lucky Taraga bothered to scrub the paint stains off his fingertips before coming out to meet him. He wouldn't do that for just anyone.
He's short. But he's got that tall guy energy as he strides toward Nathaniel, all broad smiles and eagerness. He's clearly the sort of person who likes to stand out, be it in his fashion choices or the way he struts.
"You actually came!"
I think I need one of mine to call him Taragon at some point!
A little paint wouldn't have bothered Nathaniel. If anything, it would've served to improve Taraga's overall look, as good as it already is. Nate happens to find a paint stained artist to be very attractive.
When the bike rider removes his helmet and reveals himself to be the very man Nathaniel's waiting for, he pushes himself away from the wall, pulls his hands out of his pockets and reaches around to dust any dirt off of his jacket. Keep himself looking presentable and all that. His eyes wander over his date, taking in all of the details of his appearance. He's a little shorter than expected, which is almost funny given the short of energy he brings to the table. Nate has at least a few inches on him. Well, more like half a foot but who's really counting?
"Of course I did. I said I would."
Yes, please! He'll laugh, most likely. Or pout dramatically
But he's also very charmed that Nathaniel showed up. They're practically strangers and the fact that a misfired text ended up being to someone not only in the came city, but someone open enough to accept meeting a stranger (and not immediately thinking he could be some kind of serial killer).
Taraga pauses a step in front him, then rolls up onto his tip toes to get a little closer. "I'm not sure if you know this, but a lot of people bitch out on plans."
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no subject
i'll see you soon
no subject
see you soon 🩵
-> prose
Despite saying that he had to finish getting ready, he doesn't look much different than he did in the pictures he sent to Taraga. A few more rings, some earrings (two in each ear), a long black jacket and his hair is a little more styled than it was. Hands in his jacket pockets, Nate leans back against the outer wall of the restaurant, watching every person who walks up or walks past.
My spell check keeps offering "taragon" as an alternative to "taraga" lmao
He's dressed pretty conservatively (by his standards) in black trousers and a long-sleeved black turtleneck with a grey button down, opened and tucked in. All his jewelry is silver, a few chain style necklaces of varying lengths and thickness, and a couple rings on each hand. Nathaniel should count himself lucky Taraga bothered to scrub the paint stains off his fingertips before coming out to meet him. He wouldn't do that for just anyone.
He's short. But he's got that tall guy energy as he strides toward Nathaniel, all broad smiles and eagerness. He's clearly the sort of person who likes to stand out, be it in his fashion choices or the way he struts.
"You actually came!"
I think I need one of mine to call him Taragon at some point!
When the bike rider removes his helmet and reveals himself to be the very man Nathaniel's waiting for, he pushes himself away from the wall, pulls his hands out of his pockets and reaches around to dust any dirt off of his jacket. Keep himself looking presentable and all that. His eyes wander over his date, taking in all of the details of his appearance. He's a little shorter than expected, which is almost funny given the short of energy he brings to the table. Nate has at least a few inches on him. Well, more like half a foot but who's really counting?
"Of course I did. I said I would."
Yes, please! He'll laugh, most likely. Or pout dramatically
But he's also very charmed that Nathaniel showed up. They're practically strangers and the fact that a misfired text ended up being to someone not only in the came city, but someone open enough to accept meeting a stranger (and not immediately thinking he could be some kind of serial killer).
Taraga pauses a step in front him, then rolls up onto his tip toes to get a little closer. "I'm not sure if you know this, but a lot of people bitch out on plans."