Surna'qir's Contributions

[*Grendel]

((Surna'qir's admission contribution to the Sensorium, hopefully something that they've never had before.))

This sensory stone possesses the memories obtained throughout an Illithid event known as "Performance Eating". It begins from the point of view of a single Mind Flayer, connected in unison with the minds of ten other Illithid. In front of them is a shackled Drow, pinned to the ground by heavy chains. The mental restraints removed from the slave allows it to curse in an unending stream of insults. The assembled crowd lacks the knowledge to understand it's vocal language, so they simply sift the surface thoughts of the unfortunate woman to understand her colourful vocabulary.

As one Illithid approaches, musing on the similarity between the raw syllables of speech and the trickling of water down a cliff-face, the Drow's hateful speech begins to falter. Lazily one of the crowd reaches across the surface thoughts of their captive, revealing a deep horror for it's current predicament, coupled with terrified anxiety for what lays in store for them.

The crowd of Illithid revel silently in the Drow's frenzied recollection of recent events, with many of them experiencing a smug satisfaction in the inability for their captive to recall how they came to be shackled to the floor. Two minds coldly contemplate how perhaps their slave's previous life and leadership position have ill-equipped her for this situation.

As it approaches, the Mind Flayers redirect their mental examination towards the performer, who has now begun to circle the shackled Drow. Half-whispered thoughts of appreciation towards the performer's skill at drawing out raw emotion are shared, not unlike patrons at a performance giving whispered praise for an actor's exemplary skill.

Before the fear can sour, the performer moves in towards the Drow from behind, running it's clammy fingers across it's skin, up along the Drow's jawline in an attempt to evoke repulsion and disgust. The crowd is not dissapointed as she flinches away, crying out in vain for others nearby to hear.

Feeling the collective hunger, the performer moves onto the main course. The nature of the mental link between those present changes suddenly enough to give one's mind a case of whiplash. The audience now has their minds focused firmly on the Drow, whose sensory input has been replaced with that of the performer. Few people experience the sensation of eating their own mind and fewer still could desire it.

As her mind withers away, experiencing it's own demise, the crowd and performer comment amongst one-another's minds, discussing the peculiarities as the Drow's sense of self is warped to the breaking point. Their clinical observations are both detached as a mortician during his work, yet obsessed as a ravenous beast devouring the first meal in a week.

As the last whispers of a broken psyche are shared between the Mind Flayers, the captive mercifully experiences death, at which point the performer stands in front of the cadaver and bows extravagantly. The assembled crowd does not applaud, nor are there any vocal calls of approval or even an encore. They simply stare in silent appreciation for an excellent work and nod before moving away to their individual duties, the mental links dropping away one by one.

The sensory stone concludes it's display with the last sensation being from the performer. A sour note of isolation and abstract distance from it's kin is felt as it watches the crowd depart.

[*MimiFearthegn]

//If this is a post for something played out in game, feel free to ignore me. But if not. . .

Surna'qir's sponsor was torn between excitement at the new experience shared, and a certain measure of horror at the experience. The consensus at the Festhall seemed to be, however, that there were far too few sensory stones from a mind flayer's point of view, and so it was given a special place in the private sensorium.

[*Grendel]

((Not played out in game, just something I thought would be an excellent way into the Society for a Mind Flayer.))

The Illithid's facial features showed little anxiety during the examination of it's offering, but was quietly pleased that it's offering was considered such an asset. When further pressed for comment on the matter, the cube-shaped Voicebox that spoke on it's behalf simply noted the unfortunate lack of such experiences and that it would resolve to offer more such glimpses into the sensations of the mind and all that it had to offer.

[*Grendel]

Another Sensory Stone is offered to the Society of Sensation, one detailing a few hours performing a merchant's duties, albeit as an Illithid. It opens on the Flayer standing by it's wares, adjusting a few minor details with discreet psionic nudges in lieu of actually performing physical work. The first customer approaches and is greeted by a monotone, droning message courtesy of the Illithid's Voicebox, a device designed for communication and trade for the Illithid race.

"Greetings, valued customer. Peruse and enjoy.", the Voicebox offers. The customer gives a furrowed brow and slow nod in return and begins to sort through the things on display. Their attention distracted, a brief mental touch from the Illithid shows that it's customer is not particularly observant when it comes to their own mind's workings. Restricting it's access to his surface thoughts, the Flayer ascertains their open thoughts like most people interpret body language and facial expressions. Given the previous reactions of others, it maintains a personal policy of not intruding too deeply into other people's minds without an invitation.

The customer's surface thoughts run like a rat through a maze, seeking a scarce handful of things. One of them stands out, but the customer already passed by it, blinded by their own rabid need to locate one of the things on it's list. Given the questionable nature of what he intends to do with them, the Illithid can understand why it's current customer is so irritated. It reaches out and picks up the vial, the Voicebox speaking on it's behalf.

"Perhaps the valued customer can be enticed to purchase this desirable commodity, alongside whatever else it might seek?", drones the Voicebox. The customer's mind flares with brief alarm, followed by a hundred fears trailing behind. The calm, detached gaze of the Illithid and it's unreadable facial expressions calm him quickly enough, however. He snatches the vial, feigning childish disinterest in an attempt to lower the price. Even without the ability to read his mind like a strobing series of lights in the dark, the intent is blatant.

"That particular vial will be five hundred jink, valued customer." The Illithid can see him considering haggling down the price, but given that it is already far below the market price, he opts to accept the price. A passing thought of revulsion passes over his mind as the coin is exchanged, his skin ever so slightly touching the clammy hand of the Flayer.

As the customer takes his leave, the Illithid gladly severs it's connection from his mind without him noticing. While necessary, touching the minds of others is often an unexciting and painfully dull affair, especially when the inner secrets of the mind are revealed to be nothing more than mundane, fevered impulses of need. It's mind flares briefly, stunted and withered in it's psionic abilities in favour of the Arcane studies it engages in. For a moment it can feel half a dozen minds, all engaged in their own banal thoughts.

During the brief torrent of mental connections, it feels one mind engaged in coherent thought. Somewhere deep inside it's mind is something the Flayer wishes to have, be it a secret, an experience or a possession. Such things are easily sensed, but the nature of each one usually more difficult to divine. It whispers a subtle compulsion to that mind, planting a thought in their mind that they really should stock up on goods before leaving. Within moments they arrive in front of the Illithid and begin to examine the displayed wares.

"Greetings, valued customer. Peruse and enjoy."