The Captain. That word sends a shiver through his spine, and he isn't sure why. "No loss," he decides, taking a sip of the concoction she brought him, which is delightful, but something seems off about it. Empty.
He runs his hand through his hair again and then down his face, the stubble like sandpaper against his hand. This feels right, but he's ashamed of it, and he gets up to look in the ornate mirror that rests over the vanity against the wall. All his various products line the surface, all manner of cosmetics that affect everything from the prominence of his wrinkles to the shine of his hair to the scent of his armpits. But he looks awful, and this takes him by surprise.
"I'm fat," he gasps, horrified, and turns sideways. He's still tall of course, and leaner than most, but there are definitely lumps that weren't there before, brought on by drink and idleness and age. "You--" He turns to look at Athessa with vague incredulity. "Did you do this?" That doesn't make sense, but it's worth asking.
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"No loss," he decides, taking a sip of the concoction she brought him, which is delightful, but something seems off about it. Empty.
He runs his hand through his hair again and then down his face, the stubble like sandpaper against his hand. This feels right, but he's ashamed of it, and he gets up to look in the ornate mirror that rests over the vanity against the wall. All his various products line the surface, all manner of cosmetics that affect everything from the prominence of his wrinkles to the shine of his hair to the scent of his armpits.
But he looks awful, and this takes him by surprise.
"I'm fat," he gasps, horrified, and turns sideways. He's still tall of course, and leaner than most, but there are definitely lumps that weren't there before, brought on by drink and idleness and age. "You--"
He turns to look at Athessa with vague incredulity. "Did you do this?" That doesn't make sense, but it's worth asking.