[b]Locas Jule[/b]

Well, this certainly didn't go very well. He knew he should apologize, but apologizing wasn't really Locas's strong suit. Manipulation, reading body language, getting out of tough situations; [i]those[/i] were his strong suits. Anything he could say would come out awkward, but something had to be said.

Locas stood up. More accurately, Locas began to stand up, then had his right leg collapse. Leaning on the cot for support, he opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and tried to speak.

"Listen," he began, tone unwavering. "I'm sorry. I...I mispegged you, I suppose. I needed to know who you were quickly, and the best way I had to do so was to...well, to hit on you. I didn't mean...well...I did mean some offense, else I would have used a better line." He smiled slightly, but quickly returned to his neutral demeanor. "I just...I'm sorry. It was dumb and rude, but I...I couldn't help it. Long story."

He pushed off of the cot and took a step forward, faltering again, having forgotten the pain in his leg. Prepared now, he slowly walked towards the elf and outstretched a hand. She looked doubtful, as if Locas had a blade hidden in his hand, but the fact that she wasn't focused on his wounds meant he hadn't gotten her [i]entirely[/i] wrong.

"I'm Locas Jule. Please accept my very informal apology. If you would like, I could send a written one to your room." The last line was delivered with such a neutral tone that even Locas himself couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or genuine. Of course, it didn't matter. It was really just a clever attempt at getting her room number. "May I know your name, Miss...?"