Truly, if Victor wanted to, he could turn up his abilities, shift the mildly unsettling feeling into something that felt more needling, or even painful, create the feeling of a phantom kidney stone or burst appendix with ease--it's the power he came to this world with almost fifteen years of experience using, not one of the newer abilities outlined in the manila folder he'd been given on arrival...
But when it comes down to it, there's nothing wildly offensive about this imPort and if Victor really wanted to he could have just left the festivities entirely.
He also doesn't seem bothered by the visual examination; it's no less than he's given the other man, after all. Though he does offer a somewhat dry look at the suggestion of being battered by root vegetables.
"Heroism in general doesn't fit me very well. Too tight in some places and too loose in others."
More like suffocating in most areas and leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
Victor shrugs lightly. With his hands tucked away into the pockets of his long black trench coat and otherwise only bare from his pale neck up, he sort of looks like he'd be well-suited to shooting judging looks at tourists while sipping an espresso in Paris. And yet, he's here.
"It's more that they're items better suited to people who already have their chests puffed out and ready for them. And why not: some brave sacrifices were made. So I've heard."
He tips his head slightly to eye the quippy stranger sidelong.
"Did you?" he flicks his eyes toward the shirt, "Fall and get up, that is."
no subject
But when it comes down to it, there's nothing wildly offensive about this imPort and if Victor really wanted to he could have just left the festivities entirely.
He also doesn't seem bothered by the visual examination; it's no less than he's given the other man, after all. Though he does offer a somewhat dry look at the suggestion of being battered by root vegetables.
"Heroism in general doesn't fit me very well. Too tight in some places and too loose in others."
More like suffocating in most areas and leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
Victor shrugs lightly. With his hands tucked away into the pockets of his long black trench coat and otherwise only bare from his pale neck up, he sort of looks like he'd be well-suited to shooting judging looks at tourists while sipping an espresso in Paris. And yet, he's here.
"It's more that they're items better suited to people who already have their chests puffed out and ready for them. And why not: some brave sacrifices were made. So I've heard."
He tips his head slightly to eye the quippy stranger sidelong.
"Did you?" he flicks his eyes toward the shirt, "Fall and get up, that is."