Random of Amber was a series of disguises leading up to one inevitable conclusion.
Random of Amber was a study in deception.
He had always been attractive. Not in any conventional sense of the word, of course. Too short to be manly, too sharp to be 'delicate,' too slight to be 'compact.'
He was, on the other hand, blessed with a sort of poise, that coupled with his size (or lack of it) made him graceful. Each foot, set in front of the other, was placed with carefree precision. Exactly, exactly where it was meant to be, despite the hurried, flighty quality with which they fall.
His skin is light, just a shade darker than fair, and tans slowly, but burns easily. It stretches thin in places, where light traces show the lines of his veins under his skin.
More recently, Random has been of a comfortable weight. He's thin, lean, lightly muscled with upsettingly prominent bones. Every angle, every line, every part of him has a sharp corner to catch yourself on if you aren't careful when you touch him.
His knuckles, bony and sharp, disguise the fact that his fingers are long and supple. The sharp jut of his collarbone draws the eyes away from strong muscles on his chest. Thin shoulders hide the strength of his back and arms. Random's very being is a study in deception.
His nose, that would be a 'beak' in any other face, compliments the angles of his eyes, jaw, cheekbones. His hair, straw blond, almost garish, sticks up in odd ways that makes him look like an annoyed hedgehog in the morning.
Random's eyes are only unnervingly bright when you look closely. Or maybe when he wants them to be, or when he's lying—in his element, really.