"Hm, well, that's typical these days. The people in the uniforms, that is." He's managed to get all that clothing on around the trousers and ridiculously elabourate belt he'd been already wearing, even tucking parts of the sleeves into the gauntlets. He looks about and spies what appears to be a pair wild Giant Forest Ribbons, picking them up and giving them a sharp flap. They twine around him and sort of settle about his shoulders, two ends of them floating in the air above his head.

He won't be able to explain that.

He grins at the question, though. "Yes, as a matter of fact. Haven't gotten into a lot of fights, have you? I've yet to really work out why clothing so often goes flying during them, but it does. You missed out--one time I fought someone in a draughty old castle and ended up in nothing more than my smallclothes!"

No, Azwel has never had an ounce of shame. Besides, he's worked hard for this ridiculous physique. Of course he's going to show it off!

"As to things being reopened, you'd be surprised. There's always a quiet little inn tucked away somewhere where people can talk, strike deals, make ill-conceived plans, and so on."