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Naomi is, in a phrase, meticulously polite. She tries her best to be helpful to trainers that come to her gym, whether it is for battle or the care of their pokémon. Sarcasm, while not entirely foreign to her, does not always register, and flippantly asked questions are almost always answered in earnest. Her pattern of speech is very precise, and occasionally, she can be heard over-pronouncing some syllables and trailing consonants, suggesting English may not be her native language.

Toward trainers her manner is exactly as superficial as one might suspect - she resents them to a similar degree that Terry Kiran openly exhibits, but she's much less inclined to admit anything for the sort. It does show in her attitude toward Dakarai N'Sehla, though.

…

• Sadza (Umbreon)
• Pitch (Houndoom)
• Anthracite (Skarmory)
• Alloy (Steelix)

Naomi Charna loathes Dakarai N'Sehla - a feeling that is entirely mutual. She'd be hard-pressed not to not-so-politely ask him to leave - expletives may not be on the menu, but it's self-evident when she's full of scorn. Her cause to resent him above all other trainers is, of course, because he 'cheated death', and she feels he's been given special treatment he doesn't deserve in being allowed to live.

She respects Jagdish Tsukinaka, though she's unlikely to go as far as risk her life for him.

Collected from Arsaga:

[The light reveals] a surprisingly pleasant and young looking girl, clad in what seems to be a flowing gown - a dress. A girl, wearing a dress. That was getting rare. She smiles warmly at the group. “Welcome to the Nightclaw pokégym,” she says. “Have you come to battle?” Her voice is quiet, friendly, inviting, and her smile is evidently genuine, exuding a strange, almost alien warmth out from this darkness that's otherwise settled on the area, and that the orange sphere is only locally scattering.

She seems to have dark hair, but it's hard to tell in this light what colour, precisely - it's not black. It could be anything ranging from a regular red over copper to maroon and brown, but all that's clear right now is that it has a slight wave to it and is long. Her eyes have been shadowed with some red-ish colour, and her lips, though delicate, are decorated with much the same hue. Her eyes aren't open quite fully, instead hinting at half-closed, and she looks a bit as though she might purr, her hands set onto the glowing orb. Her gown, too, does not seem to be black, the two colours silver and what is presumably wine red in normal light. Her smile twitches into a light but benevolent smirk. “Who wishes to battle first?” she asks, simply.

The strange girl nods quietly. “It's amicable that you have come to an agreement.” And, to Marcus: “My name is Naomi Charna. You may choose how many pokémon you wish to battle with - any amount between one and four. The battles will be one-on-one battles, with a K.O. or death meaning a loss, though you are free to withdraw your pokémon if their fate is inevitable. Objections?”

She smiles across at Marcus and acknowledges his choice with a simple nod. “Please, step over here,” she says, patting the light source, beckonning him simply, without allure to her voice, but quite clear that it's a requirement to get anywhere.

“Thank you,” she says, simply, and while her tone is friendly, it is almost too friendly, like some computer recording of someone's voice meant to be kind and soothing even in the bizarrest situations. She steps back, and without warning, the light extinguishes, letting the darkness descend upon Marcus again. Silence, for long moments - then, from further away: “You may call your first pokémon, as I will call mine.” After a brief pause: “Sadza!” Other than a brief outline of something, nothing is visible. Wait, is she planning to conduct this without any sort of light? How is that supposed to be sane?

Her right hand is set on it's head, scritching gently. “Please take this as the neutral observation it is, good sir: You are a lousy trainer.” - Marcus narrows his eyes. “Can I ask what advice you have for me then?” His tone is cold, nasty. - “I will give you advice when the others have battled. They are not meant to profit from your mistakes,” she says, inclining her head and nodding gently, once, still smiling. “Please, though, remind me when we are done, and I will gladly give you pointers.” She bows her head slightly, curls of hair falling across her shoulders, beautifully.

“Losing is never easy, there is no need to apologise. In the end of the day, it's what we learn from it.” This said, she inclines her head, smiles again, and she drifts back from the globe of light, it extinguishing once more. Darkness descends, it's absolute grip on the arena effortlessly spreading unease.

“I am not fond of deaths, myself, but know there are things far worse than death,” Naomi says, ignoring Marcus' words. “I would rather you did not fight to avoid injury, rather than use death as an excuse to withdraw early.” A brow quirks lightly.

Fortunately, Naomi, much like her pokémon, is mainly nocturnal, typically rising a handful of hours past noon, herself, working in her gym more or less until sunrise.

The view from Helix Tower was breathtaking as usual, and Naomi, dressed as though she were the bride in a particularly Victorian marriage, provided a sharp contrast to the modern designs - yet, at the same time, up here on the top platform with the expanse of the city stretched out below them, she seemed to be meant for this place.