[ Julius seems to be reading a book with a plethora of illustrations on plants. The tome is handled carefully, each page spread open without damaging the binding and weighed down with the edge of another book. He has a pad of paper for notes, wittten in a neat, sharp handwriting. Mostly English, with copied sketches of the kelp from the books.
He doesn't seem to notice her at all. Or if he has, he chooses to respect her distance. After a while he rises to replace the book on its shelf, and it's all very normal - until he returns to his desk and promptly doubles over in a coughing fit. However, it's quickly repressed - his frown never directed at her, only at himself. ]
My apologies.
[ If he's disturbed her. He glances at his palm - no blood, so it's not so bad. ]
no subject
He doesn't seem to notice her at all. Or if he has, he chooses to respect her distance. After a while he rises to replace the book on its shelf, and it's all very normal - until he returns to his desk and promptly doubles over in a coughing fit. However, it's quickly repressed - his frown never directed at her, only at himself. ]
My apologies.
[ If he's disturbed her. He glances at his palm - no blood, so it's not so bad. ]