10th of Summer, 515 AV
He dipped his pen into the ink and flattened the sheet against the little desk by his little bed. There was a mirror atop the desk, pressed against the wall, one that he looked into every now and then to remind himself of how worthless his facial features and complexion actually were. How he didn't even notice, sometimes, that it was him who was staring back when he looked into the mirror. A skilled hypnotist abandoned vanity. This was perhaps always the most difficult thing for Vox, but since becoming a slave, he'd come closer to mastery of this skill than ever before. When he looked into the mirror, he saw just a man. Only a man. A man with somewhat tan features, though they grew paler as of late. A man with an attractive face but a sad look, always. A man who always expressed confusion when he was inside of the mirror. But just a man. Caesarion? Vox? Maybe, but he didn't dwell on it. Years of attempting to stamp out an overt sense of self, in order to master a magical profession, had already set in. Now, he didn't even look in the mirror when he got ready. He simply felt and tried to imagine what he might look like.
The challenge had always been this: how can one perform an action, watch themselves do it, and not stare intently on the person looking back at them? For someone as curious as Vox, and as dare say attractive as Vox, there was always a need to stare back into one's own eyes. Perhaps this was a confidence booster. Perhaps this was an attempt to discover flaws and stamp them out. Regardless, the challenge had been consistent for much of his life. Even once he stopped thinking of the image as being significant, he had to then stare for the sake of detail. Gazing upon each blemish and each curve. All of these things mattered to a man like him. Furthermore, how could someone obsessed with observation and imaging other human beings abandon the significance of staring into a mirror? Or speaking to one's self over and over for hours? Words were important and so were appearances. Was hypnotism not the magic of socialization? Of people? Or was it perhaps a method of controlling others without nearly the sort of verbal tact and wit?
Conflicts arose constantly when it came to this field of magic. Within him and without. Still, he made progress always. Far faster than most when it came to hypnosis, indeed. He was always trying to improve, after all. So, as mentioned, every now and then he would continue to leave the suggestion - yet again - of the man in the mirror being just an image, and not some great self identity.
Caesarion (Andre Ziehe)
"Vox. Caesarion. Subject A. The man in the mirror. Olive eyes, fair skin with only a slight tan. Golden brown hair. Lighter lips than most people - perhaps less vibrant. Eyebrows remain somewhat untouched - in a way messy, with hairs growing out of the line that would be considered sharper and sleeker. Lips are fairly typical in size and volume, with less wide upper lips than most. The shade of the upper lips would be considered lighter than the lower. Average sized eyelashes. Average sized forehead, though with something of a widow's peak beginning near the top. Spiked, upward hair. Lighter in the center. Wide jawline, with stubble growing in. Sideburns against each ear. Medium width nose, expanding outwards near the end. Medium size - somewhat typical of his genetic background. Somewhat pointy ears." He made an effort to describe every single facial feature - he even went deeper into the cheekbones, the curvature of the eyes, then he moved on to the hair and described the thickness and other such elements. Of course, this was never enough. He had to look at himself almost as a test subject, like the Sahovan wizards but more personal - just him. At least this sort of testing didn't hurt anyone but the moral fabric of the one who furiously ingrained the thought.
He dipped his pen into the ink and flattened the sheet against the little desk by his little bed. There was a mirror atop the desk, pressed against the wall, one that he looked into every now and then to remind himself of how worthless his facial features and complexion actually were. How he didn't even notice, sometimes, that it was him who was staring back when he looked into the mirror. A skilled hypnotist abandoned vanity. This was perhaps always the most difficult thing for Vox, but since becoming a slave, he'd come closer to mastery of this skill than ever before. When he looked into the mirror, he saw just a man. Only a man. A man with somewhat tan features, though they grew paler as of late. A man with an attractive face but a sad look, always. A man who always expressed confusion when he was inside of the mirror. But just a man. Caesarion? Vox? Maybe, but he didn't dwell on it. Years of attempting to stamp out an overt sense of self, in order to master a magical profession, had already set in. Now, he didn't even look in the mirror when he got ready. He simply felt and tried to imagine what he might look like.
The challenge had always been this: how can one perform an action, watch themselves do it, and not stare intently on the person looking back at them? For someone as curious as Vox, and as dare say attractive as Vox, there was always a need to stare back into one's own eyes. Perhaps this was a confidence booster. Perhaps this was an attempt to discover flaws and stamp them out. Regardless, the challenge had been consistent for much of his life. Even once he stopped thinking of the image as being significant, he had to then stare for the sake of detail. Gazing upon each blemish and each curve. All of these things mattered to a man like him. Furthermore, how could someone obsessed with observation and imaging other human beings abandon the significance of staring into a mirror? Or speaking to one's self over and over for hours? Words were important and so were appearances. Was hypnotism not the magic of socialization? Of people? Or was it perhaps a method of controlling others without nearly the sort of verbal tact and wit?
Conflicts arose constantly when it came to this field of magic. Within him and without. Still, he made progress always. Far faster than most when it came to hypnosis, indeed. He was always trying to improve, after all. So, as mentioned, every now and then he would continue to leave the suggestion - yet again - of the man in the mirror being just an image, and not some great self identity.
Caesarion (Andre Ziehe)
"Vox. Caesarion. Subject A. The man in the mirror. Olive eyes, fair skin with only a slight tan. Golden brown hair. Lighter lips than most people - perhaps less vibrant. Eyebrows remain somewhat untouched - in a way messy, with hairs growing out of the line that would be considered sharper and sleeker. Lips are fairly typical in size and volume, with less wide upper lips than most. The shade of the upper lips would be considered lighter than the lower. Average sized eyelashes. Average sized forehead, though with something of a widow's peak beginning near the top. Spiked, upward hair. Lighter in the center. Wide jawline, with stubble growing in. Sideburns against each ear. Medium width nose, expanding outwards near the end. Medium size - somewhat typical of his genetic background. Somewhat pointy ears." He made an effort to describe every single facial feature - he even went deeper into the cheekbones, the curvature of the eyes, then he moved on to the hair and described the thickness and other such elements. Of course, this was never enough. He had to look at himself almost as a test subject, like the Sahovan wizards but more personal - just him. At least this sort of testing didn't hurt anyone but the moral fabric of the one who furiously ingrained the thought.
