Oh, no. That's something we have in common. Me, you. Your brother.

Wealth's never been much use, for who we are.

[He smiles slightly, smoothing a hand over one of his suit lapels — the clothes are so white, it's almost blinding, reflecting so starkly that he almost seems cut and pasted.]

No offense to your brother, but I thought a vessel as perfect as he is desired better than... raggedy hand-me-down flannel and old thrift jeans. [His lips twitch, humored.] Your glowing personalities make up for your terrible fashion.