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He inspected the reflection in the mirror, a slight frown on his face. He tapped at his own cheek, raised his chin to study his neck for any stray hairs, and finally allowed himself to properly ponder the results of his latest, stupid decision.
Olruggio held his own gaze for less than a moment, before he closed his eyes and sighed.
“...damn it all” his voice was a resigned mumble.
He looked like some damned noble, an outsider, certainly. And a young, foolish one at that.
Shaving his beard usually shaved half a decade of his years as well. Not necessarily a problem in itself as he would assume that would make him appear more attractive, however... That desire had turned into an unhelpful element to a witch who wished to project a certain level of professionalism and trust that came with a more mature looking face. His reputation spoke for much, but his presentation was important as well.
He was so baby faced
He forced himself to study his own face once more. Truthfully half of the discomfort he felt likely came from the change in itself. Perhaps he'd gotten too used to his own neat beard to be able to look at his naked face as normal.
The dark circles under his eyes distanced himself from his actual younger days, as well as what his makeover mask would have given him. As did some pores, and his overly pale complexion from being inside the atelier for weeks without getting sunlight.
Gosh, he hoped Coco would recognize him this time at least since he looked his exhausted self.
He shook his head and huffed at the man in the mirror, not feeling like “The Torch” in the slightest. Perhaps “The Match” at most, he contemplated amusedly.
He studied his overgrown bangs, regretting accepting the invitation last minute, without any opportunity to freshen up properly. The shave had been an impulsive effort in improving his appearance for a specific kind of clientele, the result was not a desired one.
At least he'd bathed, at least he'd used perfumes that made him smell good.
He turned away from the mirror, feeling both embarrassed and frustrated with his own self loathing. It should matter little, but vain he could be.
Olruggio plucked up his hat, and put it on in a way that pushed his bangs back slightly, a small improvement. He'd get a haircut eventually, usually he was able to rope Qifrey into doing it anyways.
He crossed his arms, unused to, but pleased with the formal attire he was wearing. It was another effort that at least did something appealing, and felt appropriate for the occasion.
Olruggio truly attempted to put the subject matter in his mind to the side, but he could not push away the tendons of regret. He really should have just trimmed his beard and oiled it. And he'd tried! But, then it became uneven, and… Well. Shit. Suddenly there was little to salvage and he figured he'd start over. He should have just drawn to match the other side, but now it was too late.
He straightened, then left his room in the manner of a man on trial.
He raised his chin and steeled himself as he stepped closer to their communal living spaces, hesitated slightly before rounding a corner with confident steps.
The girls were definitely gonna make fun of him. If his ego could survive that, he'd be able to withstand anything thrown at him at the banquet.
And the banquet would have liquor. Perhaps wine even.
He stepped into the living room and met Tetia's shocked, then gleeful gaze as a shiver ran down his spine.
Time to face the music.