Flicker remained behind the rest of the group during the interrogation, and was very pointedly not looking directly at any of the captives. They feared if they even glanced in their general direction, the rage they were currently trying to keep down would come rushing to the surface. While they had felt initially rejuvenated by their rest, the revelations afterwards now weighed heavily on them: only a few days after Arkisz had departed from their ranks, the team was now losing another a member, and under far, [i]far[/i] worse circumstances. While they hadn't gone to see Plasm after learning the news, they knew that whatever must have been done to them was bad. They didn't know much about plasmoids, but given their biology, they could only assume that doing permanent and potentially irreparable damage to one was not an easy task. Whoever had injured Plasm must have made deliberate and concentrated effort to do what they did to her... and for all they knew, whoever had done so might still be here, hidden among those the highwaymen had captured.

It wasn't purely this anger that troubling them either. There was also guilt, and shame: of the members of their motley crew, Plasm had been the one Flicker had felt the least close to. Try as they might, the genasi could never feel entirely comfortable around the plasmoid. Obviously, they knew that they of all people had no right to judge someone for being 'different' or 'abnormal', but something about Plasm had never sat right with them. It wasn't just way she looked - at least, Flicker hoped they weren't [i]that[/i] shallow - but the way she had interacted with the rest of world. There was some detachment there, an alien perception of things that had never sat right with Flicker. It had made previous attempts to connect with her incredibly awkward, to the point that they had eventually tried to keep any solo interactions with her to the minimal. Flicker had never vocalized these feelings to the rest of the group, but they were sure some of them had picked up on it. Even Plasm, oblivious as she could sometimes be, had likely noticed. Even after years of training and self-reflection, Flicker had never really mastered the art of fully masking how they felt. 

The recognition of this prejudice on their part had always ashamed Flicker, and that had always been a part of them that hoped that  with enough time and emotional growth own part, they might one day be able to overcome their discomfort and be able to start working toward building a genuine friendship with Plasm. Now, because of one of these attackers, that day may never come. 

And it was because of this tangle of emotions that the fact that these attackers were slaves to another did nothing to absolve them in Flicker's mind: if the monk suspected even for a moment that one of them was responsible, they knew that whatever they did would not be pretty. As such, Flicker was keeping their distance.