[Lucius barely seems to notice the correction, as it were, redirecting his mop toward something that needs cleaning. He peers at the fellow directing him, then back at the mop, then--and only then--does he glance down at the deck and spy the muck he's meant to be mopping. The muck that is still not quite in line with the end of his mop.
With an apologetic grimace he shifts the mop dead into the center of said muck and swabs as best he can. Which is to say: terribly. He is mostly just making the mess larger, spreading it out in a nice, diluted circle and, since he looks back up at the mate speaking to him rather than at the task at hand, he doesn't notice what he's doing at all.]
Sorry, my mistake! This isn't--it's not my forte, really.
no subject
[Lucius barely seems to notice the correction, as it were, redirecting his mop toward something that needs cleaning. He peers at the fellow directing him, then back at the mop, then--and only then--does he glance down at the deck and spy the muck he's meant to be mopping. The muck that is still not quite in line with the end of his mop.
With an apologetic grimace he shifts the mop dead into the center of said muck and swabs as best he can. Which is to say: terribly. He is mostly just making the mess larger, spreading it out in a nice, diluted circle and, since he looks back up at the mate speaking to him rather than at the task at hand, he doesn't notice what he's doing at all.]
Sorry, my mistake! This isn't--it's not my forte, really.