"Yes, serah, I'm quite well. Thanks for your concern." If a momentary flush and sheen of sweat can be considered well.
He turns to see the culprit from a distance—oh, gone. Was it hanging around just to pose? That's flattering. These breezy, ego-laden thoughts are had while he straightens his clothes, brushes his hair back from his face a bit, and so on. Thusly recomposed, the artist strolls back toward his scattered tools and papers and sets about gathering them up, bending, stepping, bending again to swipe them from the floor.
The humanoid spectres, it would seem, are too commonplace to net his attention; if one takes a swing at him he'll probably lean away from it, but until then he hardly spares them a glance.
Lexie, though—he's looking at her between bows, still bright-eyed and breathless from stress, and smiling nonetheless. "And you, my dear Lady, are speaking nonsense. But bless you all the same." Here's a more intentional bow for her, along with a playful cant of his head, before he bends again to scrape his fingers beneath the edge of another page and snatch it up.
(It's conversational bait of the most transparent kind, of course, meant to encourage further praise. You can't just thank a person for a compliment; professional vanity requires a little dance.)
no subject
He turns to see the culprit from a distance—oh, gone. Was it hanging around just to pose? That's flattering. These breezy, ego-laden thoughts are had while he straightens his clothes, brushes his hair back from his face a bit, and so on. Thusly recomposed, the artist strolls back toward his scattered tools and papers and sets about gathering them up, bending, stepping, bending again to swipe them from the floor.
The humanoid spectres, it would seem, are too commonplace to net his attention; if one takes a swing at him he'll probably lean away from it, but until then he hardly spares them a glance.
Lexie, though—he's looking at her between bows, still bright-eyed and breathless from stress, and smiling nonetheless. "And you, my dear Lady, are speaking nonsense. But bless you all the same." Here's a more intentional bow for her, along with a playful cant of his head, before he bends again to scrape his fingers beneath the edge of another page and snatch it up.
(It's conversational bait of the most transparent kind, of course, meant to encourage further praise. You can't just thank a person for a compliment; professional vanity requires a little dance.)