Dirk, on the other hand.... well, he doesn't recoil. He's fascinated, really. Hythlodaeus--his every inch has radiated a specific kind of gracile pastel softness ever since his replacement of self. To Dirk's refined and highly sensitive aesthetic awareness, the term 'radiate' is almost literal. He rarely looks at Hythlodaeus' face any more; this has led to some truly catastrophic missed marks, some in far more sensitive contexts than Dirk cares to remember.

He's almost fascinated by the way the shining wet mess of stark black hair changes Hythlodaeus' delicate face. His eyes, of course, don't change with the dye--but that's almost better, their lavender brilliance no longer florally offensive but potentially even striking in contrast.

He doesn't say anything, his thoughts turning like gears in whirl.