"Maker, Shale, you can't tell me not to think of it. That will only make me think about it more. It's as if you don't know me at all."
But he does like his genitals and their current attachment to the rest of him, and so on—evidenced by an uncomfortable shift in his posture—so he will do his best to think of it silently. He can do that.
"If you do remember me, will you make sure to tell people I was grating?" he asks. This is selfish, probably. To think of Shale still standing in a thousand years, hopefully not alone but certainly some kind of lonely, making sure things are remembered a certain way when it might be better if they could just forget and not miss anyone or anything—but he's asking anyway. The whispering in his head is louder every week. If he's going to die, he wants people to remember him as an obnoxious bastard. "And that Zevran was funny and Leliana liked to sing," he adds, "and Morrigan—I don't know. Something nice about Morrigan."
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But he does like his genitals and their current attachment to the rest of him, and so on—evidenced by an uncomfortable shift in his posture—so he will do his best to think of it silently. He can do that.
"If you do remember me, will you make sure to tell people I was grating?" he asks. This is selfish, probably. To think of Shale still standing in a thousand years, hopefully not alone but certainly some kind of lonely, making sure things are remembered a certain way when it might be better if they could just forget and not miss anyone or anything—but he's asking anyway. The whispering in his head is louder every week. If he's going to die, he wants people to remember him as an obnoxious bastard. "And that Zevran was funny and Leliana liked to sing," he adds, "and Morrigan—I don't know. Something nice about Morrigan."