"Probably not a bad idea," that arm wasn't the most mobile right now. He'd ditched the suit's jacket at some point, probably wrapped around the remains of that shitty knife before he'd taken it into the house. No leaving that crap out in the open, just in case.

He'd help strip himself down, of course; and the stripes did, indeed, go everywhere they would have in his other form, curling over his ribs from the back, laid out across his arms -- where the skin wasn't missing, anyway. Legs, too. His back was where they got particularly intricate and interesting, knitting across his spine.