— Honestly, that he still even bothers wearing the beanie when they're in the same room together ( aka the only room that is even remotely comfortable for him to inhabit on his own, lest he find himself twined around the whole of Shinjiro's person like a particularly sentient rubber band or piece of pipe cleaner ) is a bit of a surprise, but it goes without saying that he can't quite recall the last time he'd seen him without it, so. Old habits die hard or not at all if your name is Shinjiro Aragaki, and he's long since learned that asking questions won't get him anywhere. Maybe it's a creature comfort thing. Who the hell knows.
Anyway.
Beneath the hem of the button-down shirt that ( he thinks, anyway ) proves to help him maintain some of his dignity ( dignity that had all but fled when he'd ceased to be able to wear actual pants ), the scales that have taken over proper human skin will be cool to the touch even with the temperature of the room hovering somewhere in the realm of eighty-five degrees; he stops his own picking for the tiniest moment when that scratching begins, even if he might not be able to feel it as he would have before, there's a bit of an appreciative hum as his eyes slip closed, a breath out and in and then out again. He's so far aware that snakes tend to shed completely and not in patches thanks to his reading, but he supposes that has everything to do with being a snake in entirety and not … whatever he is now, so he's trying to convince himself that shedding in flakes is perfectly normal.
The term normal is, of course, up for speculation now, anyway. To that end — "It depends on the species," he finally says, slitting one eye open and training it on the point at which fingertips effectively skate over mostly-pale scales. Too bad that pattern hasn't shown up yet. He looks a bit like a white-ass worm. "But a few times a year, regardless. I wouldn't be surprised if it happened more often in the beginning." A pause, and the line of his mouth curves into the ghost of a smile. "That … feels good." Ah, happy danger noodlehiko.
But he comes back to himself quickly enough, straightening a little with his head still tilted to the side in thought. "I read something about that, actually. Maybe I'll try it." Another beat, and he shrugs. "As well as can be expected when you don't have legs anymore." Yeah, he's going to snort to himself for that. He thinks it's pretty funny. And it's completely fine that Shinji didn't bring him anything — he doesn't need to be watered just yet.
no subject
Anyway.
Beneath the hem of the button-down shirt that ( he thinks, anyway ) proves to help him maintain some of his dignity ( dignity that had all but fled when he'd ceased to be able to wear actual pants ), the scales that have taken over proper human skin will be cool to the touch even with the temperature of the room hovering somewhere in the realm of eighty-five degrees; he stops his own picking for the tiniest moment when that scratching begins, even if he might not be able to feel it as he would have before, there's a bit of an appreciative hum as his eyes slip closed, a breath out and in and then out again. He's so far aware that snakes tend to shed completely and not in patches thanks to his reading, but he supposes that has everything to do with being a snake in entirety and not … whatever he is now, so he's trying to convince himself that shedding in flakes is perfectly normal.
The term normal is, of course, up for speculation now, anyway. To that end — "It depends on the species," he finally says, slitting one eye open and training it on the point at which fingertips effectively skate over mostly-pale scales. Too bad that pattern hasn't shown up yet. He looks a bit like a white-ass worm. "But a few times a year, regardless. I wouldn't be surprised if it happened more often in the beginning." A pause, and the line of his mouth curves into the ghost of a smile. "That … feels good." Ah, happy danger noodlehiko.
But he comes back to himself quickly enough, straightening a little with his head still tilted to the side in thought. "I read something about that, actually. Maybe I'll try it." Another beat, and he shrugs. "As well as can be expected when you don't have legs anymore." Yeah, he's going to snort to himself for that. He thinks it's pretty funny. And it's completely fine that Shinji didn't bring him anything — he doesn't need to be watered just yet.