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Crying was not something Belladonna took any solace in whatsoever, instead finding it a rather weak thing to do, so the fact that she was now sobbing only made matters worse. And the voices just wouldn't stop. They were scathing in their remarks, blaming her for things she hadn't done or couldn't have helped, questioning her every motive and generally sounding like a band of demons out to plague her deepest fears. And then someone was saying something to her in a very funny language.... Lowering her hands for a moment, Belladonna turned to Johan, her face streaked with tears and splotched with red.

"I-i-i-i-i-i don't know what th-th-th-that means!!" She managed to stutter, placing her face back in her hands to blubber some more. "Your accent is so funny, you can't be real! You just can't!" Belladonna mumbled to herself through her hands, trying to stem the tears by muttering whatever she could with some part of her mind screaming that this was all a trick. It was only after Yaya spoke that Belladonna managed to pull herself together enough to speak. "Fire? I didn't... I didn't see any... I just... He keeps talking to me, Yaya. He keeps saying... Things. I-i-i'm sorry! I really am!" Again she shoved her hands in her face, but only for a moment for she lowered them again to look at her waist. "Where's my bag?"

In a single moment of clarity, the witch stopped crying as she realized her supplied were missing. The only thing she still had was the wooden sword stuffed down the corset lacing along her back.
"It was... Just here!" The witch jumped up and frantically searched around, clawing at the ground as though they were buried just beneath the dirt. After a few moments of this, her hand chanced across the flashlight and then the backpack. And maybe a few more objects, but she was still too bleary eyed to see, so she returned to Yaya and Johan, sniffling and holding her bag up to her nose as if it would stop it.
"Sorry... I just... They keep talking. They won't stop. Why is this happening? This is really, really bad..." For a moment she paused, one hand swatting at the air behind her. "I told you to stop. Now go away!' She instructed the air as though it were a person.

After another moment of this she turned to Johan, attempting to smile though little tears still ran down her face.
"Hi, I don't know you and you might be imaginary, but politeness is still important. I'm Belladonna. Its nice to meet you Mr. Imaginary Accent." Yeah, that wasn't her best name, but it would have to do for now, especially since even though the voices hadn't stopped, the crying fit seemed to be over. Speaking of... Where was Daisuke??

"Accent? Vhat are you- Haddiya? Vhat is wrong? Your foot? Ah! I can quite assure that I am not imaginary, Miss Belladonna. My name is Johan Klarstein. Is your foot broken, Haddiya?"

Johan was hard pressed to keep up with the two distressed ghouls, to say the least. He was vaguely offended that Belladonna though he was another figment of the illusion, though now was definitely not the time to reprimand her. Especially when there were still tears tracing their way down her cheeks. Her brief frenzied search for her backpack earned her a bemused look. At least she was trying to be polite. Though what had she meant by accent?

Haddiya, on the other hand, seemed to be in real pain, unless she was under the effects of a very powerful illusion. Judging from the bandage, he doubted that was the case.

"I think less movement vould be best, ja?" he suggested, feeling like a dolt for stating the obvious, but he was fresh out of clever insights.

Oh goodness.. Belledonna was regarded with a rather strained, pained sort of look. Dark brows pinched above the bridge of her nose. Her bag? Why? Voices? "What are you talking about?" The question went unanswered though as the other ghoul did a frantic search for something that appeared to be missing. In all honesty, Belle was running at a about a mile a minute, and poor Yaya just couldn't keep up in her current state. The best she could do was watch as the ghoul curled beside her, then jumped back up to run off.

It was better really, Belle leaving to go search for her friends. Yaya certainly cared for the witch, but in pain, terrified and confused, there just wasn't any comfort she could offer the other ghoul. She was, in a manner of speaking, tapped out.

Though with Belle down, the marid's attention turned back to Johan, and she offered him a rathere watered down version of her usual smile. "Yes, well. My ankle. I must have hit it on the boat when we were thrown overboard." Not moving actually sounded like an amazing idea. Hell, she'd been doing a pretty good job of it until the fire.. had that been real? It had certainly felt real, but there was no evidence of it.

Licking her lips, she chanced a cautious glance at the bonfire beside them. "The uh.. The fire I saw," she began, blue eyes twitching up to him. "Was it real? I mean, did you see anything?" Was she going crazy?

And then rather suddenly she remembered the reaper oil had been on her ship, also thrown overboard. "Are you ok?"

How long had it been? How long had she been tumbling in the water confused and sinking before rising back up when every wave rolled by. The ship had been lost and in response all of them had been tossed overboard including her.

On the bright side being dead meant she didn't need to use her lungs so much, so she simply rolled through the waves sucking in and spitting out water as she was launched through the waves surface. Tumbling over and over her head was spinning every which way. Was Siddie okay? What about the other students? Could the other boats have been lost?

So she continued to drift slipping in and out of conscious as the time rolled on by. Eventually the water would start to get more shallow, sand was visible in the water, land was near. Sure enough she was washed up onto shore a bit off from the staging area.

Slowly Sammy would stand up, and fall back to her knees hacking up her lungs and a bit of seawater. It seemed like she kept quite a bit of water in there now. "Dammit all..." She stumbled towards the camp coughing another spot of water. This was going to bug the hell out of her for the rest of the trip.

When she finally reached the tents and tables of items. Grabbing a sack she glanced around for other students, it seemed like most people were already elsewhere at that given moment.

Just as she was going to leave she paused. Was that a mace sitting on the table?

Hell yes.

Slowly she reached out grabbing the Mace dragging it along behind her into the fog. "These field trips are going to kill me...again." Pausing for a moment she spotted rain walking away.

"R-rain wait up!" Waving she started after the other ghoul while heaving a heavy cough full of water in her lungs.

(( Going Cornfield and mah profile. ))

Cyrilla ran a hand back through her hair and shook out the water. Maybe she'd spent a little too long after the boat went down, just playing around. By playing around she meant, blacked out, more or less. It'd been a long trip spent mostly freaking out about every little thing. Seriously, boat. Fire. It was bound to go down (she was still convinced, even after the attack, that the boat had fire somewhere on it).

Either way, she followed what appeared to be some older footprints in the sand, mostly washed out now, though there was one set that was slightly more discernible than the others. When she found the end of her path, the ghoul was quick to realize why exactly.

One of the two people she'd been madly texting from her ship about the terrors of it being already alight upon boarding, was standing there, playing around with a small sword.

"AYMET?!" the green ghoul's wings flicked out behind her and she rushed over to stand with him. "AYMET!" she was nearly bouncing on spot to have met up with one of her friends.

"YOU'RE ALRIGHT!" ignoring his fascination with his sword (hurrrrr) the smaller dragon hopped up and wrapped her arms around him.

"So... SO good to see you, you have no idea."

"Cyr!" Aymet returned her hug with an equally wet and salt-encrusted one. They both reeked of brine. He felt cold, but not freezing - evidently his natural ability wasn't working. The dracolich reached over and picked a strand of seaweed out of Cyrilla's hair and stared at it with flickering blue eyes. "Wait... what were you doing in the water? Your boat didn't sink too, did it?"

"Merope??" He turned his head. "Dude! Your boat sank TOO?"

Aymet made as serious a face as he could with just a skull. "Guys, something weird is going on--"

"Good thing everyone else left to take care of it!" He gestured to the signs of life throughout the camp - the gear and the broken portal. "Which means we can uhhh... um.... uh..." Aymet scratched his skull, staring out into the fog. There wasn't a lot of meaning to his life when he didn't have a game console. Man, maybe this trip was going to be super boring after all.