"But I'm guessing you're not interested at the moment," comes the amused comment, hush as it is as Ulysse is stripped of his shirt and vest. He lightly tosses his hair back, the beads clicking quietly against each other, and smiles, reaching for Rook's shirt and unlacing the front. Of course, he can't take the shirt off with the bracers on, but he doesn't grab for them, only lightly brushing his fingers over the buckles of one.

"How are you liking these? Not too uncomfortable?"