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Nafretiri did not walk into a Louboutin store every day. She could not afford to, despite being on the way to a degree in pharmacodynamics. And even then, in three more years, she still had a child.
Somehow, she was braver than before, as evidenced by walking into the store in the first place. Safer in crowds or no, she was still alone when she did these things. But ever since that first pair of boots in Paris, she was slowly becoming more sure of what she wanted, even if that only seemed to apply to things and not relationships, at least for now. Or perhaps it was more that she despaired of finding her perfect gentleman (she knew no one was perfect as a rule, but there had to be someone perfect for her and Aneksi), just as had happened before, but didn't know yet what a close second was for her.
But, three years away or no, she could still dream. Her eyes on a lovely pair of red-bottom heels , she made a beeline for them before thinking she might have possibly spotted someone whom she considered important enough to stop for. Those people were few enough, actually. If you were Naf's friend, it meant not only that you trusted her, but that she trusted you back. She was not as naive as she might seem to some people. One did need to dream sometimes in order to breathe, to get through the day. But her longing for people she could trust often made her misjudge exactly who could be trusted, if the person were cunning enough. That being said, a charming exterior was difficult not to fall for...at all times, no matter how much she knew she should be careful.
But then again, she hadn't had that sense with Aneksi's biological father, or rather she had, but felt trapped. He had threatened her, and there was little Nafretiri felt she could do when threatened, except acquiesce. Perhaps she ought to find a self-defense class and try her best to change that reality somewhat. Or an archery club. Or she could get a concealed carry permit, if she could bring herself to actually pull the trigger when and if the time came, that was. Or all three of those things. Maybe back at college they'd have some ideas for her. Being one of relatively few women in her field didn't help, and actually seemed to make harassment more likely, on a different level than it had been in high school, but what was Naf supposed to do, not accept who she was? She already had a hard enough time with that, considering how her mother had treated her alone, never mind anything else that had happened in her life.
"Mihail! So nice to see you again!" Unlike before, her first time in Paris, her voice didn't tremble when she saw him this time. She wondered if she looked any better to him than the last time they'd seen each other- better, in this case, meaning looking more like the person she wanted to be, confident, poised, brave, and maybe even just a little alluring…enough to attract what she thought might be the right kind of man, though if she were honest, she knew it wouldn’t likely keep away the wrong ones, either.
Mihail was her friend. . Nothing more, not that she even thought that if she had been his type he was in her league. She couldn't resist a smirk at her own thoughts. She knew very well she was probably not his type (although she hadn’t yet realized he was bisexual), though they were friends in part because of horrible treatment by their mothers and a shared fear of spiders.
That being said, Nafretiri was feeling confident enough today in a pair of black stonewash jeans, red leather moccasins with rhinestones on the toe, and a red velour top, with a turquoise and white lucite beaded necklace. And the way she sighed as she looked at the heels- irrespective, this time, of whether or not her father's contemporaries would think they were scandalous- made it clear that she wished her degree weren't so far off.
Somehow, trying to be herself was a little easier with a friend around.
"What have you been up to since we talked in Paris? We need to quit going so long without seeing each other," she chuckled. "Only three more years of college for me, though. I've been looking for a good self-defense class or an archery course. Got any connections who might have any ideas?" It couldn't hurt to ask....
"Nice color, that one," she added, pointing to a shade of nail polish in ruby red. "And what do you think of those heels over there? For me," she added with a grin. "I'm...well, trying not to care what people think...as much."
For a minute, she thought of asking him to get her a glass of rose wine, but she hesitated. This time, though, it was because she didn't know how long he planned to shop here today
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Nafretiri did not walk into a Louboutin store every day. She could not afford to, despite being on the way to a degree in pharmacodynamics. And even then, in three more years, she still had a child.
Somehow, she was braver than before, as evidenced by walking into the store in the first place. Safer in crowds or no, she was still alone when she did these things. But ever since that first pair of boots in Paris, she was slowly becoming more sure of what she wanted, even if that only seemed to apply to things and not relationships, at least for now. Or perhaps it was more that she despaired of finding her perfect gentleman (she knew no one was perfect as a rule, but there had to be someone perfect for her and Aneksi), just as had happened before, but didn't know yet what a close second was for her.
But, three years away or no, she could still dream. Her eyes on a lovely pair of red-bottom heels , she made a beeline for them before thinking she might have possibly spotted someone whom she considered important enough to stop for. Those people were few enough, actually. If you were Naf's friend, it meant not only that you trusted her, but that she trusted you back. She was not as naive as she might seem to some people. One did need to dream sometimes in order to breathe, to get through the day. But her longing for people she could trust often made her misjudge exactly who could be trusted, if the person were cunning enough. That being said, a charming exterior was difficult not to fall for...at all times, no matter how much she knew she should be careful.
But then again, she hadn't had that sense with Aneksi's biological father, or rather she had, but felt trapped. He had threatened her, and there was little Nafretiri felt she could do when threatened, except acquiesce. Perhaps she ought to find a self-defense class and try her best to change that reality somewhat. Or an archery club. Or she could get a concealed carry permit, if she could bring herself to actually pull the trigger when and if the time came, that was. Or all three of those things. Maybe back at college they'd have some ideas for her. Being one of relatively few women in her field didn't help, and actually seemed to make harassment more likely, on a different level than it had been in high school, but what was Naf supposed to do, not accept who she was? She already had a hard enough time with that, considering how her mother had treated her alone, never mind anything else that had happened in her life.
"Mihail! So nice to see you again!" Unlike before, her first time in Paris, her voice didn't tremble when she saw him this time. She wondered if she looked any better to him than the last time they'd seen each other- better, in this case, meaning looking more like the person she wanted to be, confident, poised, brave, and maybe even just a little alluring…enough to attract what she thought might be the right kind of man, though if she were honest, she knew it wouldn’t likely keep away the wrong ones, either.
Mihail was her friend. . Nothing more, not that she even thought that if she had been his type he was in her league. She couldn't resist a smirk at her own thoughts. She knew very well she was probably not his type (although she hadn’t yet realized he was bisexual), though they were friends in part because of horrible treatment by their mothers and a shared fear of spiders.
That being said, Nafretiri was feeling confident enough today in a pair of black stonewash jeans, red leather moccasins with rhinestones on the toe, and a red velour top, with a turquoise and white lucite beaded necklace. And the way she sighed as she looked at the heels- irrespective, this time, of whether or not her father's contemporaries would think they were scandalous- made it clear that she wished her degree weren't so far off.
Somehow, trying to be herself was a little easier with a friend around.
"What have you been up to since we talked in Paris? We need to quit going so long without seeing each other," she chuckled. "Only three more years of college for me, though. I've been looking for a good self-defense class or an archery course. Got any connections who might have any ideas?" It couldn't hurt to ask....
"Nice color, that one," she added, pointing to a shade of nail polish in ruby red. "And what do you think of those heels over there? For me," she added with a grin. "I'm...well, trying not to care what people think...as much."
For a minute, she thought of asking him to get her a glass of rose wine, but she hesitated. This time, though, it was because she didn't know how long he planned to shop here today
Nafretiri did not walk into a Louboutin store every day. She could not afford to, despite being on the way to a degree in pharmacodynamics. And even then, in three more years, she still had a child.
Somehow, she was braver than before, as evidenced by walking into the store in the first place. Safer in crowds or no, she was still alone when she did these things. But ever since that first pair of boots in Paris, she was slowly becoming more sure of what she wanted, even if that only seemed to apply to things and not relationships, at least for now. Or perhaps it was more that she despaired of finding her perfect gentleman (she knew no one was perfect as a rule, but there had to be someone perfect for her and Aneksi), just as had happened before, but didn't know yet what a close second was for her.
But, three years away or no, she could still dream. Her eyes on a lovely pair of red-bottom heels , she made a beeline for them before thinking she might have possibly spotted someone whom she considered important enough to stop for. Those people were few enough, actually. If you were Naf's friend, it meant not only that you trusted her, but that she trusted you back. She was not as naive as she might seem to some people. One did need to dream sometimes in order to breathe, to get through the day. But her longing for people she could trust often made her misjudge exactly who could be trusted, if the person were cunning enough. That being said, a charming exterior was difficult not to fall for...at all times, no matter how much she knew she should be careful.
But then again, she hadn't had that sense with Aneksi's biological father, or rather she had, but felt trapped. He had threatened her, and there was little Nafretiri felt she could do when threatened, except acquiesce. Perhaps she ought to find a self-defense class and try her best to change that reality somewhat. Or an archery club. Or she could get a concealed carry permit, if she could bring herself to actually pull the trigger when and if the time came, that was. Or all three of those things. Maybe back at college they'd have some ideas for her. Being one of relatively few women in her field didn't help, and actually seemed to make harassment more likely, on a different level than it had been in high school, but what was Naf supposed to do, not accept who she was? She already had a hard enough time with that, considering how her mother had treated her alone, never mind anything else that had happened in her life.
"Mihail! So nice to see you again!" Unlike before, her first time in Paris, her voice didn't tremble when she saw him this time. She wondered if she looked any better to him than the last time they'd seen each other- better, in this case, meaning looking more like the person she wanted to be, confident, poised, brave, and maybe even just a little alluring…enough to attract what she thought might be the right kind of man, though if she were honest, she knew it wouldn’t likely keep away the wrong ones, either.
Mihail was her friend. . Nothing more, not that she even thought that if she had been his type he was in her league. She couldn't resist a smirk at her own thoughts. She knew very well she was probably not his type (although she hadn’t yet realized he was bisexual), though they were friends in part because of horrible treatment by their mothers and a shared fear of spiders.
That being said, Nafretiri was feeling confident enough today in a pair of black stonewash jeans, red leather moccasins with rhinestones on the toe, and a red velour top, with a turquoise and white lucite beaded necklace. And the way she sighed as she looked at the heels- irrespective, this time, of whether or not her father's contemporaries would think they were scandalous- made it clear that she wished her degree weren't so far off.
Somehow, trying to be herself was a little easier with a friend around.
"What have you been up to since we talked in Paris? We need to quit going so long without seeing each other," she chuckled. "Only three more years of college for me, though. I've been looking for a good self-defense class or an archery course. Got any connections who might have any ideas?" It couldn't hurt to ask....
"Nice color, that one," she added, pointing to a shade of nail polish in ruby red. "And what do you think of those heels over there? For me," she added with a grin. "I'm...well, trying not to care what people think...as much."
For a minute, she thought of asking him to get her a glass of rose wine, but she hesitated. This time, though, it was because she didn't know how long he planned to shop here today
Mihail loved to shop. He loved it more than he did most things, though that was not quite saying something, given how apathetic he preferred to remain on most matters. Within that love for shopping, however, was the more specific adoration of shoe-shopping because, so far as he had come to discover, one could never have too many shoes. Thus, today he had come to his favourite of all shoemakers, and had chosen to test the stock of one Christian Louboutin, having decided something would certainly be amiss if he did not invest in a new pair of pretty Aqualac loafers right that day.
They knew him in his preferred store by now, all smiles and polite greetings because he was such a valued customer, and they wanted to continue his repeat business. They ushered him into the store, offered him a complimentary glass of champagne and left him to browse as he willed. When he requested they bring up a selection of their nail polishes and lipsticks from the cosmetics department, they were happy to oblige, and he dropped himself onto a cream-coloured couch to await their return, flicking absentmindedly through Instagram.
It wasn't long before he heard his name called out once more, and he glanced up, expecting to see the sales assistant standing before him with the nail polish he had requested. Instead, Mihail's gaze fell upon someone he had not seen in a long while, and he smiled at the sight of Nafretiri, so surprisingly confident and suddenly in the store that she had been so afraid to enter last time. He felt unduly proud, in truth, as if he had a part in the bold decision, and instinctively moved to stand from his seat and embrace her lightly, placing three gentle kisses on her cheeks by way of greeting.
"Lovely to see you," he agreed, stepping away and dropping his hand to his waist, scrunching the thin white fabric of his shirt as he did so. "It's been forever - we should really speak more often, you're right. I've had work." Work being a strong word for what he did with his spare time, as it only involved actual work on the rare occasion that Nethis was giving him direct supervision. As for her second question, he shrugged, mentally sifting through all the contacts he had in mind. There were more than a few names he could give her, he supposed, and tugged out his phone to pass it to his friend. "Put in your number, yeah? Then we can stay in touch, and I can, like, text you some of my contacts. I know some people who aren't exactly self-defence instructors, but I'm sure they can show you a few things. Maybe I have an old archery teacher's name lying around somewhere..." It was unlikely, since he had probably erased the unnecessary information from his phone once skilled enough, but it was worth a try.
One of the sales assistants had arrived by then, with a neat selection of bright red lipsticks and nail tints in her arms, which she thus deposited on the table beside the couch. Mihail gave her a look of thanks, then turned his attention back to Nafretiri, who seemed to like the shades as much as he. "Yes, red suits me best, don't you think?" He waggled his fingers at the woman, showing off his currently painted nails, and glancing with little interest at the heels on display. "No, I have never been all that fond of Biancas. For you...perhaps the Miss Constellas."
Mihail crossed the room, selecting the named pair of shoes from the display on the wall and holding them out to his friend. "These. They are pretty and elegant and, hence, suit you." He might have chosen a pair of the same shoes for himself, had he not arrived at the store with loafers in mind. Waving one of the store employees over, he instructed her: "I'd like to try the Officialitos, and the Colonnakis I saw the other day, and these for my friend." He looked pointedly at Nafretiri, nodding towards the shoes. "Your size?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Mihail loved to shop. He loved it more than he did most things, though that was not quite saying something, given how apathetic he preferred to remain on most matters. Within that love for shopping, however, was the more specific adoration of shoe-shopping because, so far as he had come to discover, one could never have too many shoes. Thus, today he had come to his favourite of all shoemakers, and had chosen to test the stock of one Christian Louboutin, having decided something would certainly be amiss if he did not invest in a new pair of pretty Aqualac loafers right that day.
They knew him in his preferred store by now, all smiles and polite greetings because he was such a valued customer, and they wanted to continue his repeat business. They ushered him into the store, offered him a complimentary glass of champagne and left him to browse as he willed. When he requested they bring up a selection of their nail polishes and lipsticks from the cosmetics department, they were happy to oblige, and he dropped himself onto a cream-coloured couch to await their return, flicking absentmindedly through Instagram.
It wasn't long before he heard his name called out once more, and he glanced up, expecting to see the sales assistant standing before him with the nail polish he had requested. Instead, Mihail's gaze fell upon someone he had not seen in a long while, and he smiled at the sight of Nafretiri, so surprisingly confident and suddenly in the store that she had been so afraid to enter last time. He felt unduly proud, in truth, as if he had a part in the bold decision, and instinctively moved to stand from his seat and embrace her lightly, placing three gentle kisses on her cheeks by way of greeting.
"Lovely to see you," he agreed, stepping away and dropping his hand to his waist, scrunching the thin white fabric of his shirt as he did so. "It's been forever - we should really speak more often, you're right. I've had work." Work being a strong word for what he did with his spare time, as it only involved actual work on the rare occasion that Nethis was giving him direct supervision. As for her second question, he shrugged, mentally sifting through all the contacts he had in mind. There were more than a few names he could give her, he supposed, and tugged out his phone to pass it to his friend. "Put in your number, yeah? Then we can stay in touch, and I can, like, text you some of my contacts. I know some people who aren't exactly self-defence instructors, but I'm sure they can show you a few things. Maybe I have an old archery teacher's name lying around somewhere..." It was unlikely, since he had probably erased the unnecessary information from his phone once skilled enough, but it was worth a try.
One of the sales assistants had arrived by then, with a neat selection of bright red lipsticks and nail tints in her arms, which she thus deposited on the table beside the couch. Mihail gave her a look of thanks, then turned his attention back to Nafretiri, who seemed to like the shades as much as he. "Yes, red suits me best, don't you think?" He waggled his fingers at the woman, showing off his currently painted nails, and glancing with little interest at the heels on display. "No, I have never been all that fond of Biancas. For you...perhaps the Miss Constellas."
Mihail crossed the room, selecting the named pair of shoes from the display on the wall and holding them out to his friend. "These. They are pretty and elegant and, hence, suit you." He might have chosen a pair of the same shoes for himself, had he not arrived at the store with loafers in mind. Waving one of the store employees over, he instructed her: "I'd like to try the Officialitos, and the Colonnakis I saw the other day, and these for my friend." He looked pointedly at Nafretiri, nodding towards the shoes. "Your size?"
Mihail loved to shop. He loved it more than he did most things, though that was not quite saying something, given how apathetic he preferred to remain on most matters. Within that love for shopping, however, was the more specific adoration of shoe-shopping because, so far as he had come to discover, one could never have too many shoes. Thus, today he had come to his favourite of all shoemakers, and had chosen to test the stock of one Christian Louboutin, having decided something would certainly be amiss if he did not invest in a new pair of pretty Aqualac loafers right that day.
They knew him in his preferred store by now, all smiles and polite greetings because he was such a valued customer, and they wanted to continue his repeat business. They ushered him into the store, offered him a complimentary glass of champagne and left him to browse as he willed. When he requested they bring up a selection of their nail polishes and lipsticks from the cosmetics department, they were happy to oblige, and he dropped himself onto a cream-coloured couch to await their return, flicking absentmindedly through Instagram.
It wasn't long before he heard his name called out once more, and he glanced up, expecting to see the sales assistant standing before him with the nail polish he had requested. Instead, Mihail's gaze fell upon someone he had not seen in a long while, and he smiled at the sight of Nafretiri, so surprisingly confident and suddenly in the store that she had been so afraid to enter last time. He felt unduly proud, in truth, as if he had a part in the bold decision, and instinctively moved to stand from his seat and embrace her lightly, placing three gentle kisses on her cheeks by way of greeting.
"Lovely to see you," he agreed, stepping away and dropping his hand to his waist, scrunching the thin white fabric of his shirt as he did so. "It's been forever - we should really speak more often, you're right. I've had work." Work being a strong word for what he did with his spare time, as it only involved actual work on the rare occasion that Nethis was giving him direct supervision. As for her second question, he shrugged, mentally sifting through all the contacts he had in mind. There were more than a few names he could give her, he supposed, and tugged out his phone to pass it to his friend. "Put in your number, yeah? Then we can stay in touch, and I can, like, text you some of my contacts. I know some people who aren't exactly self-defence instructors, but I'm sure they can show you a few things. Maybe I have an old archery teacher's name lying around somewhere..." It was unlikely, since he had probably erased the unnecessary information from his phone once skilled enough, but it was worth a try.
One of the sales assistants had arrived by then, with a neat selection of bright red lipsticks and nail tints in her arms, which she thus deposited on the table beside the couch. Mihail gave her a look of thanks, then turned his attention back to Nafretiri, who seemed to like the shades as much as he. "Yes, red suits me best, don't you think?" He waggled his fingers at the woman, showing off his currently painted nails, and glancing with little interest at the heels on display. "No, I have never been all that fond of Biancas. For you...perhaps the Miss Constellas."
Mihail crossed the room, selecting the named pair of shoes from the display on the wall and holding them out to his friend. "These. They are pretty and elegant and, hence, suit you." He might have chosen a pair of the same shoes for himself, had he not arrived at the store with loafers in mind. Waving one of the store employees over, he instructed her: "I'd like to try the Officialitos, and the Colonnakis I saw the other day, and these for my friend." He looked pointedly at Nafretiri, nodding towards the shoes. "Your size?"