[After a moment, Shoka laughs, too, breathily and with a hint of embarrassment.]
F—freaky, right...?
[This is—way too hot. They've barely started and she's already a panting, shuddering wreck. Nanami holds her steady, and she clings tight in return, face and claws buried in thick fur. Though she sees it coming, the sensation of those claws trailing down her spine makes her take in a sharp breath.]
That's... Ah—
[The heat rushes under her skin, sparking loyally to the surface at her shoulder blade. It travels along the length of her remaining tendril, which stiffens, sizzles, then suddenly bursts in the span of a few blistering seconds, uncoiling and unfurling out into something wider and more rigid. Another second more, and the wing is there as if it always was, proudly extended from her still arched back, harmless embers still clinging to its membrane.
Once it's out, she breathes a shaky sigh into Nanami's shoulder. It's so different from the last time she grew wings, though Nanami was there then, too. It's bloodless and doesn't hurt at all; it feels good, actually, waves of relief washing away what little remained of her earlier aches.]
... O-one way to do it...
[As Nanami's touch reaches Shoka's lower back, she might notice a row of short spines emerge under her paw-hand—not sharp enough to pierce through the material of Shoka's blouse, but rigid enough to be felt through it.
Shoka pulls herself more upright then, to allow both her wings the space to stretch out, and sits before Nanami with them—and the rest of her, flushed and a little breathless—on display. The turquoise scales cover much of what's visible of her skin, decorating the space under her now golden eyes and along her neck and arms. Her wings are the same color, but there are darker, arrow-shaped markings on their undersides (reminiscent of Reaper wings, she'll think later, when she has the chance to see them herself).]
How's it look? You... like what you've done with me?
[So she asks with a playful grin—though the transformation still doesn't seem quite finished yet, with her horns still a bit lopsided and her seaweed tail still present (and subconsciously flicking to one side, impatient).]
no subject
F—freaky, right...?
[This is—way too hot. They've barely started and she's already a panting, shuddering wreck. Nanami holds her steady, and she clings tight in return, face and claws buried in thick fur. Though she sees it coming, the sensation of those claws trailing down her spine makes her take in a sharp breath.]
That's... Ah—
[The heat rushes under her skin, sparking loyally to the surface at her shoulder blade. It travels along the length of her remaining tendril, which stiffens, sizzles, then suddenly bursts in the span of a few blistering seconds, uncoiling and unfurling out into something wider and more rigid. Another second more, and the wing is there as if it always was, proudly extended from her still arched back, harmless embers still clinging to its membrane.
Once it's out, she breathes a shaky sigh into Nanami's shoulder. It's so different from the last time she grew wings, though Nanami was there then, too. It's bloodless and doesn't hurt at all; it feels good, actually, waves of relief washing away what little remained of her earlier aches.]
... O-one way to do it...
[As Nanami's touch reaches Shoka's lower back, she might notice a row of short spines emerge under her paw-hand—not sharp enough to pierce through the material of Shoka's blouse, but rigid enough to be felt through it.
Shoka pulls herself more upright then, to allow both her wings the space to stretch out, and sits before Nanami with them—and the rest of her, flushed and a little breathless—on display. The turquoise scales cover much of what's visible of her skin, decorating the space under her now golden eyes and along her neck and arms. Her wings are the same color, but there are darker, arrow-shaped markings on their undersides (reminiscent of Reaper wings, she'll think later, when she has the chance to see them herself).]
How's it look? You... like what you've done with me?
[So she asks with a playful grin—though the transformation still doesn't seem quite finished yet, with her horns still a bit lopsided and her seaweed tail still present (and subconsciously flicking to one side, impatient).]