[ He feels awkward tonight. The mask is a little too heavy, his clothing doesn't sit quite right, his smiles feel forced, his lilting tone doesn't strike quite the right notes. Is it all in his head? He's not sure. People around him seem to respond about the same, so — well, maybe he's just imagining things. The feeling that he's forgotten how to charm his way into a bar and from there into someone's pants, surely it's only a feeling.
The question, however, helps. It's never an unwelcome question, no matter what dark mood he's in. The nose of the mask tips toward Zevran, and though it takes him a second, the bright smile eventually finds its roots in recognition. He leans nearer to him. ]
Now, what sort of company would I be if I said no?
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The question, however, helps. It's never an unwelcome question, no matter what dark mood he's in. The nose of the mask tips toward Zevran, and though it takes him a second, the bright smile eventually finds its roots in recognition. He leans nearer to him. ]
Now, what sort of company would I be if I said no?