Give Me A Reason...

Ambrose would cock an eyebrow at the shopkeeper's request. No doubt it was to get the sizes and measurements to fit just right, and no doubt she had done this before. However, seeing as the shop did seem to cater more towards girls...

Smirking, the boy would pull his shirt over his head, his belt buckle jangling as it caught on the fabric of the garment. Casting one last look over his shoulder to make sure the fabric was still there, Ambrose would speak to the shop tender. "Alright, just, uh, don't get TOO handsy. Buy what you break, and all that good nonsense." The sarcasm was heavily layered, and his grin gave away that he didn't truly mean anything by it. He just figured the air could use a little lightening.

Unbuckling his belt and whipping it off, Ambrose worked to rid himself of his jeans. With one leg free, he would speak again while pulling the other leg to freedom. "So have you ever had to do this with a male customer? Not to sound rude or disrespectful or anything, but this shop does seem more catered to girls. Or, well, maybe catered is the wrong word. Advertised, more like." the boy would say, crossing his arms over his chest, now free of the burden of overclothing.

The problem with that, of course, was now he was left with a new burden. Or, more accurately, a lot of different sized burdens. Casting a look into the mirrors, Ambrose could see the various scars criss crossing across his body. Some small as a pin poke, others large as an axehead. Some shallow as papercuts, others that looked like they were life threatening. Of course, along with the myriad of scars were burn marks, left from his first few transformations, but those were mostly faded now. Mostly.

The boy would shudder slightly, the self conscious side of him coming to the forefront of his mind.