[He'd been unsure about Nier going out in the daytime. But the man had insisted- any reservations he voiced weren't any use. They were going out and that was it- and he didn't have a choice.
...Well, okay.
Nier's attire hadn't escaped him, either. The guy tended to dress more extravagantly when he wasn't working. He seemed to like showing his skin, seemed to like the way it made people look at him. Which, fine, that wasn't exactly anything he'd complain about. Ever, actually. Because he'd find himself looking, too. But... here, how dressed Nier is, next to his ...effort (Plain. Functional. A clean shirt and trousers which allow his tail freedom) is kind of...
Well. He... kind of wished he made more of an effort. Even if what he's wearing is the best he has, one of them... is getting all kinds of (appreciative) looks.
But whatever. The stalls contents are of little interest to him. He's... not actually that big on sweets. The booze that the vendors are selling seems overpriced. And it kind of smells weird. And when the roses are waved in front of his face, his first impression is that they're going to be a bitch to lug around.
But then it hits him. The clothes. The insistence on seeing this festival. The roses. This is... A date right?]
...Thanks.
[Said thanks is quiet. But the flush rising to his face as he takes the wrapped arrangement and holds them between his forearm and his chest is far too pronounced to signal being unsure.
...As is the fact his tail's now moving around in multiple, complete circles of a wag. His gaze drifts to the stalls.]
Everything looks sort of...
[Garish?]
Neon.
[Weird. Still, he walks, alongside Nier and with a light bump of shoulders, to a stall. Dildoes, indeed. And plugs and beads and a multitude of other things beside. His eyes skip all of that. And he points out something in the back- a mannequin wearing a latex bodysuit and holding a whip.]
The armour this place has doesn't look like it'd deflect shit. And a whip as a weapon's a major liability.
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♥
...Well, okay.
Nier's attire hadn't escaped him, either. The guy tended to dress more extravagantly when he wasn't working. He seemed to like showing his skin, seemed to like the way it made people look at him. Which, fine, that wasn't exactly anything he'd complain about. Ever, actually. Because he'd find himself looking, too. But... here, how dressed Nier is, next to his ...effort (Plain. Functional. A clean shirt and trousers which allow his tail freedom) is kind of...
Well. He... kind of wished he made more of an effort. Even if what he's wearing is the best he has, one of them... is getting all kinds of (appreciative) looks.
But whatever.
The stalls contents are of little interest to him. He's... not actually that big on sweets. The booze that the vendors are selling seems overpriced. And it kind of smells weird. And when the roses are waved in front of his face, his first impression is that they're going to be a bitch to lug around.
But then it hits him.
The clothes. The insistence on seeing this festival. The roses. This is...
A date right?]
...Thanks.
[Said thanks is quiet. But the flush rising to his face as he takes the wrapped arrangement and holds them between his forearm and his chest is far too pronounced to signal being unsure.
...As is the fact his tail's now moving around in multiple, complete circles of a wag. His gaze drifts to the stalls.]
Everything looks sort of...
[Garish?]
Neon.
[Weird. Still, he walks, alongside Nier and with a light bump of shoulders, to a stall. Dildoes, indeed. And plugs and beads and a multitude of other things beside. His eyes skip all of that. And he points out something in the back- a mannequin wearing a latex bodysuit and holding a whip.]
The armour this place has doesn't look like it'd deflect shit. And a whip as a weapon's a major liability.
[.......He doesn't know.]