The place didn't look too organ mill-y. Which is a perfect cover for one to be fair.

The instructions earned a nod from him, Miles glancing around again before working on peeling out of the suit. With how often he had to quick-change in an alley, modesty wasn't really a thing, but he'd also taken to wearing bike shorts under everything. Less embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions that way.

The graze wound certainly wasn't the end of the injuries. The kid was riddled with bruises, scrapes, and some rather wide swaths of burns. Not as severe as they could have been, the costume had diffused some of the heat, so instead of a crispy mess, he was at least alive and kicking.

Pay no attention to the tilt of his head, he's trying to guess if he'd get judged for just rolling up in the blanket and sleeping instead of worrying about tending the injuries.