[ For a split second, Astarion gets the uncanny sense of looking in a mirror — not so literally, considering that mirrors have been essentially lost territory to him for the past two centuries, but in the carefully groomed exterior of the fellow who's caught him. The gelled hair, the smile, even the turns of phrase. In some other life, he'd have done his best to bring the man back to the Szarr Palace, but as things stand, he simply laughs, shrugging slightly as he watches the little star pass into his new acquaintance's hand. ]

Do you think a judge would accept the argument that it's not theft? What they're asking for is hardly of any material value; surely paying nothing at all amounts to the same.

[ Even he's aware that this won't really hold up in court, but it's not like that's about to make him start feeling guilty.

Plus, it's not like he's about to part with his own hair — does it grow? Nobody knows! ]

Growing your hair out, hm? Did you determine your current look to be too dashing, or not dashing enough?