[Bruce has settled in reasonably well to Lunatia in the sense that he settles in anywhere that he ends up. He knows where everything is, he knows the best hiding spots, and he knows where to find quiet and seclusion. Clothing, however, was never top of his list. He is not a big Chroma getter to say the least. He doesn't like touching other people, so his friends have been the only providers so far, enough to get him by. Which means he's wearing exactly what he was when they went on the mission to kill Thanos, sans Hulkbuster armor. Simple pants, a dark blue button-up, basically the unassuming clothes that frequently gets him mistaken for a professor by non-Lunatia people.
He keeps his head down as he walks around, dodging without looking up newcomers who stumble around a little shocked the way he did in the beginning. He has only a satchel to his name at the moment with some notebooks, and it's only luck that has him looking up at the right time to catch a glimpse of Natasha Romanoff outside of the shop, observing it but not inside yet. His eyes widen and his heart lurches in the exact way it does every time he sees her, and he hurries toward her.]
Nat!
[He says as a quiet warning before he gets too close; he knows her instincts are probably on high alert in a new place. The key difference for Natasha, however, is that he looks like his old self. No green. Just the mousy scientist she met a long time ago. Bruce moves forward, his instinct to reach out, to put a hand on her shoulder either to reassure her or reassure himself that she's there. Except he's always been hesitant about seeking that closeness, especially with so many years between them. Instead he halts a few feet away from her and smiles.]
Hi. I ... like your ... [His eyes narrow.] Hair. [Not the short blonde bob he recently saw. Not the curly red from before he left. Something new.]
C
He keeps his head down as he walks around, dodging without looking up newcomers who stumble around a little shocked the way he did in the beginning. He has only a satchel to his name at the moment with some notebooks, and it's only luck that has him looking up at the right time to catch a glimpse of Natasha Romanoff outside of the shop, observing it but not inside yet. His eyes widen and his heart lurches in the exact way it does every time he sees her, and he hurries toward her.]
Nat!
[He says as a quiet warning before he gets too close; he knows her instincts are probably on high alert in a new place. The key difference for Natasha, however, is that he looks like his old self. No green. Just the mousy scientist she met a long time ago. Bruce moves forward, his instinct to reach out, to put a hand on her shoulder either to reassure her or reassure himself that she's there. Except he's always been hesitant about seeking that closeness, especially with so many years between them. Instead he halts a few feet away from her and smiles.]
Hi. I ... like your ... [His eyes narrow.] Hair. [Not the short blonde bob he recently saw. Not the curly red from before he left. Something new.]