That is. Such a smell. What is that, lye?

Izzy answers, most decidedly still in his normal clothing.

Did he try on the Disney shirt? Yes. Will he die before he admits it? Also yes. The fabric felt very nice but it doesn't really fit the uniform. A little big. A little boxy. Unfitted where anyone could snag him in a fight. Even if it was his taste, it just isn't practical.

And wow there are just so many things happening when he greets Lucius with a curt nod. A shirt, okay, that was an anticipated threat. The cups, though, what the fuck is that in there.

Izzy furrows his brow. Why does it have ice, it's hot out? Why is it purple? Why is this happening. God but it smells nice and it's fascinating and ice on what will surely become a hot day would be such a luxury. Too many questions. All of them will sound stupid. Focus on the shirt then, which he takes to alleviate the load lest one of those witchcraft-level-drinks be spilled. Izzy inspects it and slows down as he backs up. My god this must be silk. The weave is exquisite. What a waste of precious cloth to paint it so garishly.

"Now, are you pickin' these out or is he?"