[He...actually seems to agree, at that one. Glancing down at himself, at the shirt that used to be a spotless white and is now a mottled burgundy. It blends in perfectly with the aesthetic of this entire place, but it does him few other favors. The fabric is worn and frayed at parts, and thinning in others.]
This shirt used to be white, [he mutters, verging on disgruntled.] I just kinda...
[He trails off, embarrassed to so much as admit it. He’s not used to needing or having a wardrobe. At all, really.]
no subject
This shirt used to be white, [he mutters, verging on disgruntled.] I just kinda...
[He trails off, embarrassed to so much as admit it. He’s not used to needing or having a wardrobe. At all, really.]