Clear simply stands there. Most people would be flailing and screaming and howling, falling to a heap of suffering and ash. What he does, however, is the absolute opposite. He endures it, his pain receptors flaring a little, just bearably. Once done, the fire clings to his face and his body, his auto-repair keeping his skin from singing too badly.

"Uwah." He tries to pat some of the fire out from his arms casually. "Are you finished now?"