[his own clothes are the same as normal, a thin white shirt, dark cargo pants, and a long coat with metal cuffs on the short sleeves and the lower half torn into sewn-together tails. though all that's momentarily covered by the black cloak given to him at the very start of his journey here. doesn't do much to hide the scars on his face, however, or his arms, since the sleeves are rolled up to bunch behind the metal cuffs of his coat.
moving forward is a chore, his steps almost dragging and his body leaning forward. dabi keeps to the outer side of the market, home the destination in his mind. though it's clouded by the memories and thoughts, the lack of sleep pulling at his body and mental functions like hands grasping to haul him back.
the first attempt doesn't do anything, the second neither, but the question if he's all right finally breaks through and dabi turns his head to look sleepily at the other man.]
no subject
moving forward is a chore, his steps almost dragging and his body leaning forward. dabi keeps to the outer side of the market, home the destination in his mind. though it's clouded by the memories and thoughts, the lack of sleep pulling at his body and mental functions like hands grasping to haul him back.
the first attempt doesn't do anything, the second neither, but the question if he's all right finally breaks through and dabi turns his head to look sleepily at the other man.]
Whaddya want?
[not in the mood for this.]