Mordecai had to exercise a bit of effort not to show his amusement at the man's faltered sentence when he's been offered the unusually large amount of money. When he was informed of the lack of appropriately sized parts for his limb, Mordecai reassured the man. "That is of little matter. The parts I ask for are for crafting things myself, as I have ample supply of necessary parts to sustain my<i>attachments</i>." He'd taken little offense, as doing so would be no better than being obese and offended if one were to be told they were merely 'overweight.'<br/><br/>To the unexpected offer of a lower price, he nodded in a manner that showed he was pleased, though the gesture was gentler, more fluid than the rest of him seemed to be. Happiness made him willing to put the effort into being more graceful, albeit slower. He stood and waited patiently, more than willing to spare time; he did have an awful lot of it, after all.<br/><br/>And then, the woman showed. He was taken aback, if only by a mite, at her brilliant presence, her vibrantly white dress nearly blinding in the browns, grays and dull golds of the rest of the neighborhood. He was surprised at the utter lack of dust that was present on her, especially while traversing through these trashier areas of town. In spite of the radiance of her being about, Mordecai could sense her aloofness, her coldness. That she was French did not improve his view toward her one jot, though he was given solid evidence to explain her behavior; all of the French that Mordecai had ever met were snobbish and arrogant, holding themselves as though they were some kind of proud cygnet surrounded by lowly mallards, and this one, as far as he could tell, was no different.<br/><br/>Bah. They were all the same, save one he'd met a few years back, who happened to be not-so-stereotypical Frenchman. Given, the man was also quite mad, but that was beyond the point. Mordecai considered that one an exceedingly rare exception to his experiences. And look, the woman had the nerve to play with things that were obviously masterfully crafted with much passion and caution, treating them as easily replaceable toys. In spite of his rather negative first impression, he was more than willing to stand by and wait for her to begone with whatever other pompous habits she may have brought along, so as to let him finish his own business. His left brow was still risen as he watched Volex tend to her and warn her of the delicacy of his things.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>