gattaimuses.

He sees the luminous relative walking toward as if she was a goddess, but he knew that she was not a benevolent goddess. More like a monster.“Clothing?” He looks at Ragyo with a frown with the lighted cigarette. “…..It’s not a statement. It’s an identity.” Unfortunately he wasn’t wearing Senketsu…well not anymore. 

           “INDEED!” Her eminence says, heels gliding across the ground with nothing but DEMANDING clicks. The gait she bears is one of ROYALTY; the pampered walk of a woman who cultivated her own power SINGULARLY, and who DESERVED it without question. “CLOTHING is an IDENTITY! We are DEFINED as human beings by the very FIBERS we chose to ADORN our bodies with – we ARE the clothing we WEAR!”