[The last thing Viktor removes are his gloves, the motion immediately followed by the pushing up of his sleeves. Underneath, his right arm appears to be made of metal taken organic form, cords of dusky steel approximating the shape of muscle and tendon and sinew. Some sort of violet-colored energy pulses from within. He offers no explanation for it, reaching instead for a leather apron that he slips over his head and ties around his waist, a clear indication that he's ready to get to work.]
If you don't mind.
[He does understand that this can be very personal, so he tries to have good bedside manner, such as it is.]
It will help me make the proper recommendations, and outfit you accordingly.
[To prevent specific, desert-flavored wear and tear.]
no subject
If you don't mind.
[He does understand that this can be very personal, so he tries to have good bedside manner, such as it is.]
It will help me make the proper recommendations, and outfit you accordingly.
[To prevent specific, desert-flavored wear and tear.]