Jarlaxle is being slightly lazy and reusing his demondevil costume from work, but in his defense, he needed to come up with a credible Matron Mother’s robes for his contest entry in time for the festivities and something had to give. If Kimmuriel had been interested in most of his matching costume suggestions, perhaps he would have tried an original costume for the festivities regardless… but the only one Jarlaxle’s co-leader had even found acceptable was his rueful declaration that if that was how Kimmuriel would be, he might as well just reuse his work outfit and make Kimmuriel a properly furry demon costume to match.
(Still. He did find it a bit amusing that he was dressed as a fiend of order, while orderly Kimmuriel was dressed as a fiend of chaos.)
Although his partner is something of a wallflower, Jarlaxle is much too sociable for that. He scans the crowd to see people he knows or recognizes, so that he can go over and congratulate them on their own costumes—though if a particular costume tickles his fancy, he might go over to compliment them regardless as to if he knows them.
“Ah! You look wonderful, my friend!”
The Library
Jarlaxle nods along to Dr Espa’s explanation of what she’s looking for and the equipment involved. He is not sure why so much equipment is needed—in his experience, ghosts and spectres just tend to show up fully manifested whenever possible and he is very experienced, given that Bregan D’aerthe’s base in the ruins of Illusk is quite definitely haunted. Still, this is another plane of existence than his and maybe their spirits behave differently. The important thing is that he ought to be able to make some money from this.
Even so, he’s liable to bring it up with anyone else looking alongside him.
“Do you think the spirits here are shy?” he asks, curiously.
The Tower
It had been a slog and Jarlaxle knees weren’t quite as forgiving as they’d been in his prime—especially now that he was stuck in this human’s body instead of a proper elf’s—but in the end, he thinks, the view makes it worth it.
“Beautiful,” he says under his breath. “Simply beautiful.” Then he glances at whoever's standing next to him.
Jarlaxle Baenre | OTA
Jarlaxle is being slightly lazy and reusing his
demondevil costume from work, but in his defense, he needed to come up with a credible Matron Mother’s robes for his contest entry in time for the festivities and something had to give. If Kimmuriel had been interested in most of his matching costume suggestions, perhaps he would have tried an original costume for the festivities regardless… but the only one Jarlaxle’s co-leader had even found acceptable was his rueful declaration that if that was how Kimmuriel would be, he might as well just reuse his work outfit and make Kimmuriel a properly furry demon costume to match.(Still. He did find it a bit amusing that he was dressed as a fiend of order, while orderly Kimmuriel was dressed as a fiend of chaos.)
Although his partner is something of a wallflower, Jarlaxle is much too sociable for that. He scans the crowd to see people he knows or recognizes, so that he can go over and congratulate them on their own costumes—though if a particular costume tickles his fancy, he might go over to compliment them regardless as to if he knows them.
“Ah! You look wonderful, my friend!”
The Library
Jarlaxle nods along to Dr Espa’s explanation of what she’s looking for and the equipment involved. He is not sure why so much equipment is needed—in his experience, ghosts and spectres just tend to show up fully manifested whenever possible and he is very experienced, given that Bregan D’aerthe’s base in the ruins of Illusk is quite definitely haunted. Still, this is another plane of existence than his and maybe their spirits behave differently. The important thing is that he ought to be able to make some money from this.
Even so, he’s liable to bring it up with anyone else looking alongside him.
“Do you think the spirits here are shy?” he asks, curiously.
The Tower
It had been a slog and Jarlaxle knees weren’t quite as forgiving as they’d been in his prime—especially now that he was stuck in this human’s body instead of a proper elf’s—but in the end, he thinks, the view makes it worth it.
“Beautiful,” he says under his breath. “Simply beautiful.” Then he glances at whoever's standing next to him.
“Do you not agree?”