[ Patting the dirt off of the ones he picks, Shizuo sets them in the bag and rests an elbows on his knee, wiping sweat from his forehead. ] Damn, it's hot out. [ At least the only shirt he's getting dirty is some tee he picked up from the abandoned clothing stores about.

Shielding his eyes, his gaze flicks up and he sighs dejectedly. ] Used to wear 'em all the time, but I lost 'em the day I got that shitty chip thing outta me. [ He's unused to people being able to read him like a book. ] Still pissed, but there isn't a hell of a lot I can do 'bout it.