For Shigaraki the weather is fucking perfect. Getting there early helped, as well. Hearing the discussion he's glad that his Omen doesn't speak to him, and he's glad that he told it to get the fuck out of here. This is no place for him no matter what the stupid thing thinks. Perched on high on one of the taller monuments to the dead, Shigaraki fits right in with the decor, keeping himself quietly ascertaining that this person isn't an immediate threat even if he could be A Threat™️. Sometimes, just to remind himself that he can still cope with or without the hand on his face, he wears it. He'd like to think it knows damn well why it's being put out on parade and so today, Dito can have the treat of it, too. That is if Shigaraki decides to speak up, which he's still deciding on.

Devil among angels in this otherwise foggy wasteland of a graveyard, he lets the conversation play out. People talking to their omens often gets him a little more than if he would've just spoken to them himself. 'Cockblocked' is exactly what's going on at the end of the day. Instead, once it seems like the entire conversation between man and beast has stopped, Shigaraki speaks up from his perch on high.

Squatting on the edge of a tall angel wing, "I don't stand people up when I'm the one that makes the appointment. You just need better eyes and ears." As if that would've helped. It wouldn't have, but you know. A singular hop down from the large monument and he's on the ground, fingers pressed all four to the dirt. Standing up after, he uses the other hand to flip his dark coat back so it straightens itself out in the foggy light. "I'm gonna assume you're not going to be blind because of the fog?"

Sorry, very cute omen, Shigaraki doesn't talk to them just yet.