[center][h1][color=5ca6ce]Plasm[/color][/h1][/center]
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Plasm would look in the direction of the merchant's row and back to the highwaymen, they felt they had been away for too long, days, years, time is a curious construct of one's mind, how one perceives it. Plasm once more slipped away into their mind as they lose to the curious ponders of time. To them, they felt the distant, lonely blackness of time and nothingness that felt like days, months, years... a life time even... a shutter came through their gelatinous form. To feel the loving embrace of family, friends, spend the evening with beloved friends, consuming fermented poisons and dancing the night away, and hours feel just a moment. To the throws love making and primal lust, and an evening becomes day in a blink of an eye. To spend but a few unnerving hours in the darkened hell of nothingness, with just their splintering mind... Those hours, they turned to a lifetime of crippling loneliness. 

It was becoming too much to bear and it seemed their mind hand taken hold once more. The tendrils of loneliness had started to wrap around them, embrace them... dig into their gelatinous flesh. Plasm begin to think of their party, can they call them friends? They've traveled a bit together, fought and killed along side them, but is friend the proper term... no, not friends, seems Plasm lacked those. Their party was more allies, affiliates. Plasm would lay their life down for them if need be, but would they necessarily do the same? Hells, for all the warlock knew, they could be planning to leave them, cut the weakness, cull it from their ranks. There was a cruel logic in that. Logic, Plasm could understand... No! The other's aren't like that! No! They do care! Plasm may not be a friend, but certainly a valuable asset! A weapon, tool, yes, logic, there was logic in that as well!

Plasm stood up straight, freeing it's self from it's internal prison of it's mind. Without word, Plasm would pull two gold pieces, slight surprised no one stole them from her, and placed them on one of the highwaymen's hands. With determination, they would bow and silently walk on in search of their traveling companions. Out of fear of the culling, Plasm had vowed to her mother and the dark mistress of her contract, that they would serve a better asset to their companions. Deep down, a warmth resonates as it further thought on this, hopefully, their allies will grow to become friends as well. 

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[hider=Trapped in ones mind]
Felt a Wisdom roll was a good save to see if Plasm might lose themselves in their mind. Each paragraph was a new (failed) save before the conclusion. Probably should have asked if this was appropriate but *shrugs* guess I felt like writing and a little character development on our little eccentric warlock.
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