Not JUST barefoot, but shirtless as well - chest exposed under his blazer, for all the world to see. He blinks blearily as he's addressed, turning his head against the ground to look over at the man beside him.

Even as the parasite wound around his wrist muddies his already twice-addled mind, the artist squints back, voice thoughtful as his eyebrows knit together.

"...And you...ssssound familiar," he replies, spinning a bit with the deja vu of it all. He rolls more fully onto his side, swaying a little in place when he sits up. The goo at his wrist wants him to get closer, and it doesn't have to ask Tom twice.

"Don't I...know you f'rm somewhere, handsome?"