"Ah, damn. I'll need a job, won't I?"
It's something he ruminates on under his breath: the illusion of perfect prince slightly broken here, replaced with someone who looks more than slightly cranky about the concept which flickered across his mind like a dimly lit streetlamp.
A foot taps against the ground as he walks, not even considering where he's going anymore, nearly kicking the stones beneath him. A petulant child, truly, as he thumps unceremoniously into another person: and instantly, he pulls his demeanor from the pits of hell and whips together a semi-polished, forcibly apologetic look. (Ah, damn. What a way to make a fool of himself.)
"Apologies, I wasn't...looking, or bothering with my surroundings... Here. Give me your hands, I'll pull you up. Didn't scrape yourself?"
@sanctummilitis
