"Fair enough," Iramaat replies thoughtfully, "But I'd rather save myself the irritation of having to cut them off in the first place. You know? Either way I get rather stressed, but..."

She half shrugs as he finishes up his work on her face. She dearly wishes she had a mirror, but alas - she'll have to imagine it. She turns her face from one side to the other, as if showing off for him, face split in a sly smile until his commentary turns to her full moons. It settles, fading a little.

"Well... it's not exactly pleasant. I tend to lose myself in a haze of drinking and wild abandon and, ah, need and it's entirely out of my control. Terrible hangovers... and it's not really fun to lose control of one's self like that. It's... like you're riding in your own body without quite having control. Very... very disconcerting."

She shakes her head, "That's such an unpleasant thing to talk about though, isn't it?"