[The tight-held tension in his shoulders almost visibly softens when the security guard seems only pleased with his performance, and as the man winks he goes so far as to raise a suggestive eyebrow before they turn from each other and he and geralt head into the lift. And he's not very fond of the lift himself-- it may be quite a different design from the wrought-iron, red backlit monstrosity that used to descend into the plague dungeons, a spectre that has haunted his nightmares for years now, but it's close enough as to cause some discomfort. He makes no complaint or demonstration of his trepidation as they step inside however, too relieved to have escaped their encounter with the guard to give it the concentration he might otherwise have done.

Once Geralt breaks the silence Julian's earlier exuberance makes a swift return, and he leans back bonelessly against the wall of the elevator, laughs quick and bright.]

I'm not sure it was your tone, but more the content he objected to. Not much of a people-pleaser, are you.

[But there's no hint of rebuke or reproach in his voice, only obvious amusement.]

Lucky for you, I'm a grade-A schmoozer so perhaps I should do the bulk of the talking next time hijinks occur.

[He runs one hand back through unruly auburn curls, his grin a wide arc across his face.]

And at least now I know how they'd like me to behave, for future reference. But as you say, I have my doubts we'd be able to slip by that particular guard again following your performance.