Vincent wasn't really looking to shower right now, per se. As much as he could still feel that phantom sensation of grime or blood on his hands, he could still tell that they clearly WERE clean, as was the rest of him, amazingly. But it still felt… weird, that he was cleaned and even patched up like he was. If there was a mirror anywhere in this facility, Vincent imagined it would be in the shower room itself, so that's where he'd found himself gravitating towards once he had the will to stand up and move again some time hours after waking up.
Though as he walks into the changing room at the front area of what seemed to be the showers, long ringed ends of his almost robe-like straitjacket swaying with each step… Suddenly, as he looses his train of thought, the confines of his prison uniform… simply are no longer there. Instead, he was in his usual 'buisness punk' type outfit, with no stains or imperfections to be seen on it.
"What in the world…?" Vincent mumbles, looking down and patting himself over to see- Huh. His… normal clothes…? With the addition of some bandages, but… What in the world had just happened to him? Surely he hadn't lost That much of his mind already, had he…? "Hahhhhhahah… Am I seeing things…? Where did that straitjacket just…"
Not only had he been distracted enough to Miss that thing disappearing, though, but apparently, he had missed the fact that there was Another Person In the Room with him now too, though Vincent honestly couldn't tell which of them had actually come in first, distracted as he was.
"…..Hello. Can I ask if you just… experienced the same thing?" SURELY he wasn't losing it this fast, right?? Ignore the fact that one of Vincent's eyes is twitching just thinking about it.
Current outfit is now this:
