Usually up in the arenas he doesn't actually have for more he can do. He could only bring one token and that meant the necklace tube of paint alone. But this is special circumstance. Usually there ain't being no way for proper face.

He rises up to his feet and walks on over in that stiff, silent fashion avoxes tend like to do. He goes to the racks of make up and looks it over, up and down, to see if they might have some setting powder.

In the most distant of senses, an ire churns. They had these all lain out here as such like his faith and the paint ain't weren't being some shit sacred. For a second, his brows furrow, then he finds what he was looking for and walks back, settling to the floor and holding it vaguely out to her.