Gillian stifles a groan as Fanilly walks (more sprints) away from him as fast as humanly possible. Rightfully, he couldn't blame her. Had he seen someone far and away his senior in the buff he doubt he'd be eager to listen to their apology either. "By Mayon's left tit..." he begins to grumble, grateful the young captain didn't deign to end him there and then. He starts to rub his head, a chitinous hand running through his hair, before regarding the 'good' doctor. 

The was a lot to be unnerved by from the man, though Gillian wasn't sure what disturbed him more at the moment. The impassive, almost cruel, glint in the mask's foggy eyes or the flipflops. A short bursts of giggles from the maids as they passed brought him out of his gawking. "....Thanks for the save doctor." He offers quietly. Disturbed by the man as he was, the buzzard did break him break out of his daze.  

"Part of the job." 

He responded,  turning to view Fanilly departure along with the carrion swarm of Harpies that passed for maids.
When they had passed, Teller returned his gaze to Gillian. More specifically his arm. The doctor was unconcerned with the anatomy of other people these days. He'd seen everything the human body consisted of, thoroughly, on multiple occasions. 

"Any particular reason you felt the need to flash the captain." 

Teller asked idly. More interested in the arm than the small talk. He would get there in time though.

"I did not flash the captain." Gillian retorts quickly, casting a stern look towards Teller. "It...she ran into my private bath at an inopportune moment. I was caught off guard. It was an unpleasant experience for everyone involved I am sure." He begins to rebutton his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkled mess he made from dressing so quickly earlier. "I don't make a habit out of exposing myself. And while I cant speak to her intentions in this, I doubt they were untoward...Probably." 

"I'm not entirely convinced but I accept it anyways."

Clad only in his mask and towel with a pair of sandals on, Teller was wise enough to let the curiosity over the situation slip by. It wasn't any of his business anyways, given that he had only participated in breaking the obvious tension.

That only left the one other issue on the edge of his mind.
Teller was fast, sandals or no, and crossed the distance to Gillian in a flash. His sudden eagerness could be taken as hostile, but he wasn't armed with anything that could be used in a way that was life threatening.

His purpose had been to clasp the prosthetic limb, firmly dragging it in front of him to get a better look. To touch it and see if he could decipher it's mysteries.
He would love to know how to give a patient such an impressive augmented limb in the event of them losing one.

"How did you come by this? It is exquisite.  The detailing alone must have been at the hands of a master craftsman. How does it move so freely. Perhaps it is your true arm? No. Couldn't be. You are far too human. If absent minded. Hmm.."

Like Gillian before, lost in the realm of thought, Teller neither felt nor heard his towel slip from his waist. Consumed by his insatiable hunger for answers. 

"Be unconvinced all you-hey!" Gillian yells as the doctor takes a sudden and firm grip of his arm. He curses under his breath, he knew better than to walk around with that thing out. The doctors actions, to give him some credit, seemed more driven by burning curiosity than malice. Though, Gillian hesitated to say that was necessarily a good thing. 

"I dont know how I came about this abomination." He answers, giving the doctor a partial truth, not keen on letting anyone (much less a stranger) about his deal with an unknown witch. "And I've no inkling as to the nature of its functions. It moves as my arm, thats all I..." He stops mid sentence, the soft thumping of a towel hitting the floor directing his attention downwards. "...Uh, doctor!" Gillian says, looking away quickly. "You can let go now!"

Teller looked down comically, head tilted to the side, and stared at the discarded garment. Taking nearly a full 10 seconds to realize that he had been disrobed. It only took another mere second to realize he didn't quite care about his own nudity.
Again; seen it all already.

"You seem tense." He pressed, "There's something you aren't sharing. You don't just get a prosthetic like this and not remember.." 

Teller abruptly let go of his strong hold on the appendage. His body language was clear as day saying he still wanted to know about the arm. It would gnaw at him until he found out and find out he would. He had a knack for learning what he shouldn't.
But for now it was obvious Gillian would not share his closest secret, even with his doctor.

"I respect your privacy on this matter. In the future though, don't be so squirmy."

 Teller reached out and idly flicked the man's nose and turned on his heel, forgoing the towel entirely. 

"If you ever need a hand, you know where to find me."

With those ambiguous words the doctor departed the private room, clad only in his sandals and mask, back on his mission to find the baths.

"I'm going to elect to ignore the pun." Gillian says as he rubs his nose, glaring daggers at the back of Teller's head as he leaves. He considers, for a moment, telling the doctor he forget his towel, but decides against it. The sooner he could put distance between himself and that nude quack the better in his mind. Gillian kicks the abandoned towel before turning back into the room, locking it tight, intent on finishing the laundry he abandoned and to put the whole incident (and the image of Teller's retreating posterior) out of his mind as fast as possible.