∞

A firm knit of the brow:

"No. Corsets."

Taps the fingers of the hand folded against his chest on his arm; a low grumble in thought.

"Either open the skirt, or Cut it Shorter."

And he shifts his weight between his feet, as if subconsciously thinking back to the garment that currently wraps his legs.

"And if I can't raise my arms above my head, it's Useless.

Arms folded, rolls his eyes, a quiet huff through his nose--he scoffs, as if to say, 'Of course I could.'

His eyes press closed, and he grumbles.

"Too Gaudy--Too Constrictive. Don't make me waste my time on something that will only Get in my Way."

[/ Déja vu. He brought a hand to his hair almost on instinct, running his fingers through each lock. ]

“No, no one ever told me that before. You’re the first and only one.

Why would you want to ruin something beautiful in your eyes? Isn’t it far better to admire it for as long it lasts, and hand its fate to time?”

   “Why, there’s just something so tantalizing about it.

   “To the possibilities.

   “Maybe--You could change it to something mid-length. Or shoulder length. Or short entirely. You could shave half of it off. You could give yourself a bob, or a bowl cut, or a pixie cut--or even go completely bald.

   “So many options, so easily attained in so short a time.

   “The visceral feeling of seeing something new and fresh, and to turn it into something complete with your own hands--

“So it is natural! I wasn’t certain if you would have manipulated your own DNA to give you those attributes or not given the experiments the TP have on record.”

“It seems you’re kind are quite diverse in their physiology. This might seem a bit odd to ask of you, but if it is possible I’d love a sample of one of your scales for further analysis!~”

   “Mm.” She mumbles, a small arch to her lip. “Any creature with control over their physiology has some sort of default that they assume when they’re not keen on presenting some way else. 

   “Extraneous values such as colors or texture may change; the genetic makeup itself may not.

   “Immortal DNA is much more... stubborn than mortal variants, you’ll find.”

   A strained smile. Finally, it drops.

   “No.”

“With scales that dense, it would be rather difficult to land any solid physical hit for most combatants against you, let alone even show evidence of injuries.”

“Tell me, do these scales naturally form in specific areas of the body? or is manipulated on your own accord?”

   She blinks slowly at him.

   "This is phrased as if to imply that were my child anyone else, I would lose such credibility.”

   She makes a face.