[ affection week doing its job -- astarion doesn't immediately wiggle away or try to duck from the touch. it's a little difficult for him to do more than just stare, really.
it would be near impossible explain what forgetting yourself is like. he knew his hair curled, because he could feel it. he suspected it was white, because he could see it curl in front of his face sometimes. but he can't recall the colour of his eyes, what they were like before cazador, and he had no idea what they became after.
he'd forgotten the shape of his nose, the point of his chin. so many little things that just made up his entry identity. ]
...
[ ...
he sniffs. ]
Well, I had some idea. I didn't have any trouble gaining attention these past two hundred years.
[ but his voice lacks the edge, replaced with something just a little more vulnerable. ]
no subject
it would be near impossible explain what forgetting yourself is like. he knew his hair curled, because he could feel it. he suspected it was white, because he could see it curl in front of his face sometimes. but he can't recall the colour of his eyes, what they were like before cazador, and he had no idea what they became after.
he'd forgotten the shape of his nose, the point of his chin. so many little things that just made up his entry identity. ]
...
[ ...
he sniffs. ]
Well, I had some idea. I didn't have any trouble gaining attention these past two hundred years.
[ but his voice lacks the edge, replaced with something just a little more vulnerable. ]