[ Jarlaxle's own ever-present distress is his as well. Or might as well be his. He is not feeling terribly well, and that sickened, angry feeling of betrayal does nothing to improve his mood.
He checks the chest, having very little to do besides walk and feel sorry for himself. There are various bits and pieces there - no doubt confiscated from other unfortunates - but he does manage to dig out a few familiar trinkets which he wordlessly passes to Jarlaxle.
Jarlaxle confirms what, on some level, he must have already known, and his mouth tightens perceptibly. ]
I suspected as much. There was something interfering with my ability to focus before.
[ A long time ago he had been prepared for the possibility of ceremorphosis, to be offered to the Oblodran hive mind for turning as one might offer a prize rothe to a noble benefactor. It had seemed more of a reward then. But he was young indeed when that happened, and it has been long since House Oblodra's fall, even to a drow.
You after myself. Jarlaxle had been...bait, perhaps. Or an opportunistic grab... It would not have been bait that Kimmuriel could refrain from taking, if bait it was. That sting of anger, betrayal, visceral pain, it explains itself; these illithids had not been interested in what he had to say, only what he could be used for.
He glances over at the trail of blood. Muddied flashes of past moments trickle down like water in a stagnant pool; the noises of intellect devourers, the protests of illithids, the repeated hot flashes of psionic energy released. Enraged screaming that might be his voice. He's not certain. It only sounds a little like him. ]
Both of us will have difficult passengers to deal with. Though perhaps your difficulty in learning psionics might serve you here - it cannot use you in the same way.
[ He rises from the chest and walks over to the door, leaning on the ridged doorframe for a moment to steady himself. He's used enough to this style of architecture that when it fleshily gives under his hand until it hits whatever solid structure it uses as a trellis, he doesn't register it as more than a slightly annoying feeling. ]
no subject
He checks the chest, having very little to do besides walk and feel sorry for himself. There are various bits and pieces there - no doubt confiscated from other unfortunates - but he does manage to dig out a few familiar trinkets which he wordlessly passes to Jarlaxle.
Jarlaxle confirms what, on some level, he must have already known, and his mouth tightens perceptibly. ]
I suspected as much. There was something interfering with my ability to focus before.
[ A long time ago he had been prepared for the possibility of ceremorphosis, to be offered to the Oblodran hive mind for turning as one might offer a prize rothe to a noble benefactor. It had seemed more of a reward then. But he was young indeed when that happened, and it has been long since House Oblodra's fall, even to a drow.
You after myself. Jarlaxle had been...bait, perhaps. Or an opportunistic grab... It would not have been bait that Kimmuriel could refrain from taking, if bait it was. That sting of anger, betrayal, visceral pain, it explains itself; these illithids had not been interested in what he had to say, only what he could be used for.
He glances over at the trail of blood. Muddied flashes of past moments trickle down like water in a stagnant pool; the noises of intellect devourers, the protests of illithids, the repeated hot flashes of psionic energy released. Enraged screaming that might be his voice. He's not certain. It only sounds a little like him. ]
Both of us will have difficult passengers to deal with. Though perhaps your difficulty in learning psionics might serve you here - it cannot use you in the same way.
[ He rises from the chest and walks over to the door, leaning on the ridged doorframe for a moment to steady himself. He's used enough to this style of architecture that when it fleshily gives under his hand until it hits whatever solid structure it uses as a trellis, he doesn't register it as more than a slightly annoying feeling. ]