[ Vash not having put the outfit on himself isn't news to him, but at least he was blessed with undergarments, though Getou has a moment to look jokingly disappointed about it, laughing up the awkwardness. he doesn't pursue it beyond the suggested teasing, finding it rude to go much beyond that. his undies can have a break for now. after all, this is much more interesting. since the seeming young man before him doesn't balk at his touch or inquiries, he continues running his touch up — over the crevice of connection at the wrist that keeps his hand mobile, the mockery of radius and ulna forming a gap that he runs a finger in, stopping shy of the elbow where bandages begin to wrap and dangle. impossible to confirm on sight if it goes as far as he says it does under there, its likeness well-disguised beneath the clothing but for some small mechanisms that glow through the thinness. he's all person-shaped. ]

"Ancient"... [ what must his world look like, if this is what its people are capable of? ] This would be considered quite advanced, where I come from.

[ a dark gaze flickers back to his own reflection in those glasses. his smile widens then, an amusing thought crossing his mind — one he doesn't seem to share. instead, he gives the fabric a little tug. ]

May I? You know. One handicapped man to another.

[ a prosthetic never even crossed his mind; it seemed too unlikely that one would survive the force he would put it through... but this. this looks sturdy. this look like it could take some abuse — and has. ]