[The lilting, soft tone of Astarion's voice is like a balm, a reassurance that there's no anger, no resentment at Koby's rapid, violent departure. He very much wants to fling himself forward, cling childishly to anyone and everyone he knows, reacquaint himself with their presence, the shape of them pressing into his mind. Still, there's caution there -- not everyone wants someone poking around at their consciousness.

So Koby settles himself with squeezing Astarion's hand, tightly, offering a teary-eyed smile, a laugh.] I-I would've been less messy about it, I hope. Found better timing for it, too. [Having such a violently emotional event right after the game ended felt like some sort of cosmic punishment.

Koby laughs again, more tearily, but warmly, obligingly holding his arms out so Astarion can get the full effect of his outfit.] It's very inconvenient, with all the lace, but it's pretty, isn't it? Not as embarrassing as the Halloween costume, too.