He doesn't go out of his way to deliberately collide when Vincent's already given way, his point's been made. The gray cloak he wears is branded in the back, a vibrant orange x slashed across it. The cloak hides much, but aside from his hair and matching eyes, it's the only real color on him, eyecatching even from a distance.

The newly claimed seat cushion is tossed with the small pile of growing objects he intends to put to use obscuring as much of the red as he can. But when Vincent speaks up, the glare returns, shot over one shoulder. "Do you see paint around here? I sure as hell didn't."

Paint WOULD work much nicer, but there's a reason he'd made do with a crappy tarp barely the right shade. He also hasn't thoroughly searched through the area, so MAYBE something more appropriate is around.