It's going to be incredibly disorienting for Raistlin emerging into this, having just felt like he was quite a different person, dying thoughts filled with grief and rage and cold absolute focus, experiencing the sensory deprivation and some carefully limited degree of the edge of madness that comes with it, and then the triumph of finding that she could control the body of her grieving student, and that all her skills and powers were still available to her. That feeling skims like clouds over a heaving sea - it worked! She's done something unforgivable to a girl who trusted her and who was already bowed under horror and sorrow, but it worked!
For a moment, this seems less like the fair Raistlin had actually been present in an hour ago and more like that long-gone compound, and there is the sense that people he cares about - that Need cares about? - are lying dead, just out of sight. Need disentangles hurriedly with a :That place is long gone and not here and it's not relevant right now. You're alive, and male, and a Red Robe mage. One of us was addressed as Sister and it's not you, boy.: She's been doing the best she can to make this less of an identity nightmare. This a lot of why memories are best shared with someone who's either asleep or sitting in a quiet room. In either case, they can come out of it slowly and reassert their own perspectives on their own time.
Raistlin has about twenty seconds as Need splits her attention and builds a mental map. :Some of the defenders abandoned their posts and let an attack catch everyone vulnerable,: she says dispassionately, and without that memory between them he would never know that this intimation of betrayal has her holding back a snarl. Reaching through the gales of emotion whipping past, she catches just the edge of a spitting, bestial hatred and yanks away from it like pulling a hand away from fire, catches glances of it through three pairs of borrowed eyes. :Oh, what - the hell - are those? Walking dyrstaffs?:
It had reacted to her touch, however fleeting that had been, and its effect roils outwards as it comes towards her. She feels it first - a fractured mirror of several bad memories at once, several pictures of shame and agony. Women and girls and others she hadn't been able to save, for one reason or another, but whose pain and hopelessness she had shared in. If she'd had teeth, she would have gritted them. How dare this thing... how dare...
:Child,: she says to Raistlin, very deliberately. :We need to move, and if you can't, I'll move for you.:
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For a moment, this seems less like the fair Raistlin had actually been present in an hour ago and more like that long-gone compound, and there is the sense that people he cares about - that Need cares about? - are lying dead, just out of sight. Need disentangles hurriedly with a :That place is long gone and not here and it's not relevant right now. You're alive, and male, and a Red Robe mage. One of us was addressed as Sister and it's not you, boy.: She's been doing the best she can to make this less of an identity nightmare. This a lot of why memories are best shared with someone who's either asleep or sitting in a quiet room. In either case, they can come out of it slowly and reassert their own perspectives on their own time.
Raistlin has about twenty seconds as Need splits her attention and builds a mental map. :Some of the defenders abandoned their posts and let an attack catch everyone vulnerable,: she says dispassionately, and without that memory between them he would never know that this intimation of betrayal has her holding back a snarl. Reaching through the gales of emotion whipping past, she catches just the edge of a spitting, bestial hatred and yanks away from it like pulling a hand away from fire, catches glances of it through three pairs of borrowed eyes. :Oh, what - the hell - are those? Walking dyrstaffs?:
It had reacted to her touch, however fleeting that had been, and its effect roils outwards as it comes towards her. She feels it first - a fractured mirror of several bad memories at once, several pictures of shame and agony. Women and girls and others she hadn't been able to save, for one reason or another, but whose pain and hopelessness she had shared in. If she'd had teeth, she would have gritted them. How dare this thing... how dare...
:Child,: she says to Raistlin, very deliberately. :We need to move, and if you can't, I'll move for you.: