That's all rather fair, in Izzy's opinion, and he takes the offered hand. The shake is a rather new and novel form of greeting, and he has to say he quite likes it. You can tell a lot about a man from the way they grasp you. Their temperament, their intentions. Weak or dominant or confident.

He sees the scraped knuckles before he sees the lip, and wonder immediately riles up beside concern and a certain kind of possessiveness he has to right to. Mugged, probably, he thinks. Poor fucker.

"Izzy," he answers, preferring the shortening, and commits Lucius' name to memory. It suits him, really. Distinguished but comfortable on the tongue.

"Seems you got into something fun yesterday. I should have warned you that fabric fights back."