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[i][u][color=b18f71]January 1st, 9:00 AM.
Nello's Home, New York City.
Interactions - None.
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Buried in a gathering of pillows and blankets, one could hear a soft, muffled groan trickling between ever-shifting and folding fabric. It was in response to an alarm clock, the sound universally hated throughout the world. Indeed, Nello was willing to wager that the one commodity across the entirety of existence shared between every single individual, more so than anything else, was a silent agreement of combined hatred for that accursed sound. From the nexus of softness and comfort known as Nello's bed, a slender arm revealed itself, with snake-like scales glimmering ever so softly in the dim, morning light. He slid a clawed finger across the shape of his phone, and at the motion, the nightmarish sound came to an end. With a stretch, Nello slowly crawled out of his fortress of solitude, the confines of comfort binding him to a place he never wanted to leave. If only he could remain in that spot, in the warmth of a comfortable morning bed forever. In his case, this ludicrous notion was, in fact, a possibility. For a boy freed of the need to eat and nourish himself, this was, indeed, an option. However, his eternity had not quite reached the point yet, where Nello was willing to lock himself away and sleep for a hundred years. [color=b18f71]"Ugh,"[/color] came a soft whimper as the demonic teenager revealed himself, dressed in a pair of boxer briefs. Attempting to shield himself from the morning light which caused irritation for both his skin and his eyes, the boy attempted to keep to the shadows.

True to his nature, Nello's body mimicked that of a bipedal reptilian, his frame covered in pale gray scales. They were soft, to the touch, and even warm, as might have been surprising for what was assumed to be a cold-blooded creature. A flat, scrawny stomach was bereft of both a belly button and nipples, all features which would have been an incredibly odd addition to what could be considered a lizard on two legs. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Nello rose to his feet. He padded towards the bedroom door, all the while feeling a pair of arms lazily draped around his neck. It was Nocturne, the weightless creature floating behind his host as he allowed Nello to absentmindedly drag him along. [color=b18f71]"I require energy..,"[/color] the teen continued, in a dramatic fashion. He stepped through the living room, which had been turned into a gathering of books and artifacts throughout the years. It would not be far fetched to name the interior a library, due to the countless bookshelves rowing walls and open spaces alike, several boxes of trinkets gathered throughout. Amidst the organized clutter, Nello spotted his father where the man usually sat, at his desk, with stacks of books, scrolls, and other paraphernalia rowed up on the lacquered mahogany surface of his desk. 

The sound of a soft jazz based piano trickled into the atmosphere, making its way through Nello's raven black hair to gently caress his ears. It was a pleasant tune indeed, one often present as a background layer for his father's work. "Good morning, habibi," the man stated, looking up from his book, if for just a moment, before lowering his eyes to its contents, once more. 

[color=b18f71]"Hey, baba,"[/color] Nello offered, in turn, his elbow nudging Nocturne as the creature finally let go, with a sigh. [color=b18f71]"I'm going to the magic show thing, later."[/color]

"Be careful," came a response from the human, "and don't cause any trouble," he continued, raising a brow at his son. Nafir knew that no matter how much he wanted to stress the statement, it wasn't going to help. Trouble was drawn to Nello like moths to a fire, or it was the other way around. "If you're going to live in my son, Nocturne," Nafir spoke, "you better keep him safe." 

[color=b18f71][i]"I always keep him safe!"[/i][/color] Nocturne responded, seeing how Nello offered the statement onward. They both heard a small chuckle from the older man before he returned to reading the book in his hands. It was an old thing, clearly, something he had found in the ruins of the Western World, undoubtedly. Nello proceeded, his small, clawed, bare feet padding against the floor as he finally reached the destination he had been moving towards. The fridge. Pulling it open, the boy's slender fingers wrapped around the cold surface of a Monster Energy drink. Pipeline Punch, to be exact. It was difficult to find such a gathering of perfect layers, all wrapped in one. Monster Energy, the drink which this specific monster had grown ever so addicted to. Such a controversial name brought it notoriety, without fault, but Nello cared little for what the slur entailed. He had been called a monster countless times, and it didn't bother him, in the slightest. Perhaps it was because he was, in fact, born human, or the blade of insults harmlessly bounced off his pale scales. One could also make the claim that he had made the word his own, Monster, something which had been depowered through the use of jokes. The moment one was able to joke about an issue, was the moment it was brought to its knees, after all. It was when the seriousness of a slur was turned into little more than a chuckle. Either way, as he opened the drink, he was blissfully hit by that wondrous hissing sound which soda made. Bringing it to his mouth, Nello sipped the contents and finally exhaled a long, pleased sigh. This was going to be a good day. It was proceeded by a quick shower, and a change into the respectable choice of jeans and a hoodie, which so often found its way to Nello's shape. Draping a shoulder bag over himself, the boy started towards the door, inhaling a deep breath. A good day, perhaps, but stepping into the sunlit morning was not a preferred outcome.