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"Ain't no shame in doin' what you can do, whether you're a fighter or not," Roch said to Aksaja, his eyes on Ash. He wanted to talk to Amphi and Danny, he wanted to haul both of them back to the dorms and leave this entire jackin' fight to people that had something invested in keeping this school in one piece, but he couldn't.

"Why are we still standin' here? It's been long enough for everyone t'go back to their dorms with no trouble," he complained. But it was more hot air than anything else. What started here could easily spread to the rest of the school, he knew that as well as anyone else--maybe better than some of them.

No, this wasn't right. It should be right. She should be taking solace in the small comfort the boil offered, but it felt so wrong now. As if it mentally burned for him to be so close. As if she should slink away from his touch.

The feeling practically ripped her apart. Did she allow this to go on? No, no. Something about closeness... She didn't like it, did she? Not from strangers. Why was that now? It seemed as if there was a good reason buried in there somewhere.

"D-don't..." Riyo tried to pull back from him gently, eyes brimming with uncertainty that her action was right. "Just... Don't..." The feline started rubbing her head with some hope that it might help settle whatever was brewing up there.

It didn't. The familiarity of this place. It was too much. Like... Deja Vu.

Giving up? Had they been trying in the first place? Deacon... He'd been this way before. Yes, she was almost certain of it. Whatever this was, it wasn't new. And she. She had accepted that, hadn't she? Not to try and solve all his problems, but to give him someone to lean on before he... He...

Before he was gone for good.

She was out of time.

Memories of the past started painfully flooding back, each a little needle on the fragility of the situation. Pricking at the raw skin, threatening to draw blood. She told herself she'd try to be there for him, but instead he had to be there for her.

Covering her face, Riyo tried to wipe it all away. To shove her terrible thoughts out of the door if only for this brief moment. Panic was still persistent, but as long as she could look up, she could stand to stare the unresponsive boil directly in the face. Her hand reached, if only in an effort to shut those unmoving eyes. "I wasted your time. I'm so sorry."

"There are no known 'fixes' when these things happen," Shun stated, hearing Aksaja speak. There was some speculation, about this or that, but some of them were far too risky to deal with for just a 'chance'. Especially with what could happen to follow through with such things.

"What would you suggest?" Shun asked flatly, "If you're going to try and sacrificing yourself to feed them your fear like others have tried in the past, I shall pass on that."

Aymet was certainly confused by the sudden increase in mist, at least at first. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the stuff. To be perfectly honest, he'd been a little preoccupied by a certain trash can that had suddenly developed a taste for dragon bones... it was only now he'd managed to escape it.

Everything had gone a strange, clean, silent white.

He saw things in the mist. Creatures that shouldn't have been. Pieces of them. Longing. Home. It was invasive, and it was familiar, and even as the silent, strange visions faded, it has resonated enough that he felt empty even without having ever known all what he'd seen.

But even as he was dazedly coming to his senses, he could feel a lurking presence. A dangerous presence. Whatever it was, he couldn't be fazed by it. He'd stood his ground against this misty stuff time and time again. Against hunters too. He could stay strong even if every bone in his body didn't agree. Aymet stood his ground and glanced around to the others who'd began to mobilize already. He spotted Mort, and Amrita, and made his way over to them as fast as he could.

The witch's answer was an anxious glance and a soft growl. "Just . . . stay close. Please." There were too many things he could have listed as potential dangers rising from the fog, and he knew that one slip was all it would have taken to given in to the aching pang of loneliness building in his core. While Alex's notion of escape was best, Mort wasn't known for taking the best route - only the ones he thought were right. And right now he strongly felt that deviating away directionless in this mist would only leave them open to whatever was watching them faster.

Christof's jostling of Amrita wasn't doing his nerves any better either, and again the zomboil growled before Calder was dragged in. Nurse Cricket. Again a safer option, but what was the point if they couldn't find their way out of the fog, much less know what was waiting? "Keep it down," he hissed. "Want to alert what waits where we are? C-Can't find anything in fog n'way." No, better to stay here than to leave, stay in the horde. Safety in numbers, always safety in numbers . . . lone zombies were dead quickly, but a mass was always intimidating. Safety in numbers.

Alex had the right idea, pulling someone in to add to those numbers. He heard them talking but wasn't quite listening just yet, focused on another lone ghoul nearby. Dragging Belladonna along with him, Mort shuffled over and extended a hand to bring her into the fold. "Safety in numbers," he reasoned, not recognizing her face and briefly finding suspicion in that fact. But a number was a number, and this would make it plus one - and more was always better. "First year?"

And speaking of add ons, the much more familiar blue glow from Aymet brought him some comfort. "Ready f-for tussle?"

People!

She didn't recognize either of their faces, but perhaps it didn't really matter, all things considered; safety in numbers indeed, that was what she was looking for and what was what the boil had stated. Safety in numbers. Right. She would be safe if there was more than one person and maybe they could get out of here. Safety in numbers would give them some nice convenient ways out of this repetitive fog because honestly she was worried what happened to the Four Clans might happen to them with the way it was gathering; there weren't any of those disgusting Hunters around, were there?

Serafina was very obviously jittery as she took the boil's hand, accepting the invitation to come closer and join their group. As she stepped closer, she nodded to both the boil and the accompanying ghoul. "Safety in numbers," she echoed aloud, confirming that he had the right idea, or maybe that she agreed, maybe it didn't matter... "First year," confirmed she, rather shortly, glancing around. Something was going to go wrong and she just knew it. It was a bit too foggy to decipher where the exit was, though. Was there even an exit?

"Name's Serafina Arai," offered she, nervously, voice soft but rather shaky and oddly pitchy for what didn't seem to be a banshee. "You can call me Sera though. Or Serafina. It doesn't really matter I guess. We should probably figure out how to get out of here. Or at least away from whatever is going on. But being in numbers would be a good thing..." Wonderful first impression Serafina. Way to let the jitters get to you. Then again the boil had sounded pretty--

For tussle? Well, that didn't sound particularly good thing. Tussles were fights, right? Were they expecting a fight?

She supposed she should have known better, coming to Amity...

"Is there something here?" asked Serafina, with a gulp.