Welcome to Gaia! ::

The fog rolled in, as thick as it had been when he ran into that little girl with the spider-spewing eyes. He had called out to the rest of the group, but all he was met with were screams of terror, uncertainty and pure rage; they couldn't hear him. They wouldn't acnowledge him even at his loudest! He tried walking towards the voices, but they were always five steps ahead. There was nothing he could do. Nothing, but stay by himself in the fog, listening to everyone else suffer together.

He had to suffer alone.

Mac stood there, heavily slouching with his head lowered. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity though only a few minutes had passed. The familiar voices were always that five steps ahead, talking and worrying and screaming and, sometimes, mentioning him. He could hear them, hear his name being called by them; but it was part of the conversation, they weren't looking for him. Of course they wouldn't, why would they?

"Dear Jack..." Mac murmured, his body shuddering and his wooden bat hitting with a heavy, echoing sound. "So alone...." He breathed out, falling heavily to his knees.

Of course you're alone. A deep, heavy voice cut through the fog; Mac didn't even have to look up to see it was his absent Father, leaning on his scythe with one arm and holding a daily schedule with the other. Despite not looking, he could see the older man so absorbed in his work that he wouldn't pause long enough to look at him. You're intolerant, you need that. The 'that' suggested that there was an object nearby, and the young Reaper finally lifted his head to spot...a Baby? A demon baby?! WHAT THE JACK, MAN?

A client needs a Babysitter, so you'll have to take care of her, and Saide too.

"Just...what? How did you---But I'm---What?" Mac breathed out, more confused than anything. He was on an island. Why was his Father here? ...Wait, of course his Father was here. His Father was one of the many that called themselves Death. He was eveywhere. It was fitting for him to be here, looking at his itinerary. "Father-" The word was grumbled out, dripping with resentment. "...No." He was back on his feet, and he ran. He ran away from the familiar voices and even as the figure of his absent Father and the Demon baby faded into the fog, however those voices remained ever close, just out of reach. Always out of reach.

No Father, no Demon Baby, Nothing. Just the fog and distant voices.

Time ticked by again; he could even hear the constant rhythm of a distant clock. Tick, Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock The vague conversation in the distance had changed; it was no longer panicked or angry or upset, in fact, it seemed to be turning joyous; he even stopped hearing the occasional call of his name. Yup, he'd been forgotten. Soon enough, he was alone again in the fog. By himself. Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock The Reaper sank to his knees again, regretting his decision to run. Alone...so alone....He wanted everyone back. He wanted to see that bossy purple Demoness, those Dragons, that annoying spider chick who insisted on calling him stupid names and clinging to his arm. Jack, he'd even spend a day playing tea party with his little sister, at this rate. Anything to not be alone.

What makes you think I want to play with you? As if on cue, a little girl with black eyes and long curly brown hair appeared beside him, leaning over in a childish way with her head tilted to try and look under his hat. You're not even going to have me, soon. You'll be all alone for all eternity, here in this fog, aaaaall by yourself! The little girl giggled like it was some big joke, lifting a hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

"How did you even ---" It didn't matter how his Father or his Sister found him; the point was they did, and they were right. He didn't want them to be right, but they were. He had messed everything up, didn't he? "No...No...No! I don't be in this fog by myself! I'll find a way out, I'll---" He paused, staring at the doll his sister was holding; it looked like that little girl that had lead him to the cliffs earlier.

"I...won't be alone..." He breathed out, a whispered voice encouraging him as he stared at the doll. It was the only option, wasn't it? Staggering to his feet, he shuffled away from the small girl who he could see out of his peripheral vision was following him anyway. His feet were leading him forward, headed towards the cliffs; that girl wanted him to die and at this point, he had nothing really left to live for, right? He was alone, his friends weren't bothering to look for him...there really was nothing else for him, here. With a dazed look, he trudged along as though walking the Green Mile, too upset and disappointed to even cry.

And then he tripped, nearly faceplanting as his foot caught on something soft, but solid.

Something soft, solid, and grumbling about chili dogs.

"...Charlie?!" Mac gasped out, looking down at the pink haired and defeated figure of his friend. Wait. This was his friend! Not his Family and not emptiness...a friend! "CHARLIE!" He cried again, scrambling to pull the Demon, who was doing the best impression of a rag doll he'd ever done, into a tight hug. "******** Chili Dogs, I'm just happy you're here!"

Shifting a little so this group hug would be more comfortable, Jericho let out a sigh as he was very glad Riley had snapped out of it. Turning towards Malodore, he nodded slowly and pulled back so he could stand up.

"Yeah... We probably should. I think Lizzy's been out hunting for the rest of the students" he said while looking around. There were a couple others around that weren't there moments ago.

"We should probably at least stay put until they return. If need be, I can signal them to get their butts back here in case they get lost in the fog again."

Though, out there, they were likely susceptible to the illusions again. He could only hope they'd manage to stay strong should that happen.

Petro took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down having heard Lizzy's voice. He felt torn between wanting to be there to protect her but at the same time he wanted out of this fog as soon as possible. Splitting up would be faster. If that's what she wanted, he'll do as she asked.

"Sounds good to me."

When she went off on her own, it occurred to Tro she sounded worried.

Scared, you dumb horse, she's scared. Of you. She's trying to get away from you. I mean, why shouldn't she? You can't take care of yourself. How are you supposed to take care of others? Some warrior you turned out to be.

"Shut up, y'! 'M not listening to y'," he snorted, shaking his head and slapping his palms against his face. That seemed to clear his senses enough to find the unconscious Astra. Quickly, he knelt down to pick her up, regretting the action as his leg acted up again. He allowed himself a small wince. No one was around to see it after all.

No fun trying to tame a lame horse.

Petro's head snapped up, eyes narrowing dangerously at the shadow looming over him. "Don't. Y'. Dare."

Awww, worried about the little fairy? Don't worry, she's out like a light. I'm sure she won't feel a thing when you toss her and rend her like a rag doll.

The shadow reached forward.

Petro ran.

There was no sense of direction in this fog. Left was right, moving forward meant moving backward, it felt like he was running in circles. Bad enough the shadow was after him but he had Astra with him. It was a mistake for him to look down at her. Because instead of the exhausted, blue-haired reaper cradled in his arms, what greeted him was a corpse. Unrecognizable were it not for the few tufts of blue hair that clung to the bloody, caved in skull and mangled body.

Not real. This wasn't real. NOT! REAL! He had to get back to the others. What was it Lizzy told him? Call for Jericho?

"JERICHO! JERICHO WHERE ARE Y'?!" The monster boil hollered.

She could hear Petro hollering for Jericho behind her, and she tensed up before relaxing; it meant that he found Astra, right? He did his job well - now she'll just have to find Sepheran and Mac... They were the ones who agreed to coming to the lighthouse with her - that made her feel sort of responsible for their plight... If they had gone somewhere else, perhaps these illusions wouldn't plague them.

'That's right, stop being brave already... Drop that facade.'

"Not real, not real, not real..." She found herself muttering, finding it difficult to focus even more, now that she was alone and vulnerable. Her whole body was tired from walking so much. Her brain was tired from trying to repel the relentless voices that had attacked her, the visions that she had seen... So many dead people.

"MAC. SEPHERAN." She yelled out into the fog, hands cupping around her mouth to help project her voice, "MACCCCC. SEPHERANNNNN. PLEASE ANSWER ME. PLEASE." She could feel the sobs rising up her throat as she walked past a twitching body, the green duster jacket bloodied. The equally green cap a short way from the body, his fingers reaching out to grab her leg as she walked right past. A dead white snake laid nearby, a green-haired corpse...

"Not real, not real..."

Jericho's 'VOI' that echoed through the fog caused her to smile, and the tears started to fall - but she wasn't upset. Inhaling deeply, she cupped her hands around her mouth again and yelled, even louder, "MAC. SPEHERAN."

(( Turn and turn about~! 8D // Profile ))

One moment, Aksaja was standing with the others, shining his flashlight into the fog so that more people could find them . . . And the next, the flashlight was gone.

Simply, gone - as if it had never been in his hand to begin with. What the? He spun in a quick circle, making sure that nothing (or no ONE) else had disappeared. But of course, he wouldn't be that lucky. He could see vague shapes in the gloom, possibly the others, possibly more visions. It was hard to tell.

And the dragon was flying above them all, roaring his name, trying to find him. He knew that it wasn't real but it was so hard to hold onto that conviction when he suddenly found himself alone again. "No . . . not real . . . it's not," the lightning dragon whispered, huddling in on himself a bit.

He needed to find the flashlight. Needed to find Sharra and Jericho and Riley and the others. Needed . . .

"You are powerless, helpless . . . useless worm . . . " the fog whispered to him, and Aksaja covered his ears with a low noise of rising panic. Find the light, find the light. Where was it? Look at the ground, idiot.

Forcing himself to stop scanning the invisible skies for his father, he looked down, then fell to his knees to start grabbing up anything that even looked vaguely like a flashlight or other items that could be of use, including several map pieces. He didn't even look at what he grabbed, just stuffing things into pockets quickly.

Then he fumbled with the retrieved flashlight and turned it on - only to have it reflect off of thousands of glowing eyes in the darkness. Eyes narrowed with hatred and judgment. He nearly dropped the flashlight again, but instead forced himself to shut his eyes.

IT WASN'T REAL.

"S-sharra?" he called somewhat weakly. "Jericho, Riley . . . Malodore . . . where are you guys?"

(( Profile here: Amon ))

He was running, running as hard as he could. His body ached, his breath growing ragged, his lungs burned, but still he ran. He couldn't stop, he couldn't, he had to keep going, he had to reach that lighthouse! It was their only hope, the only way to stop all this!

Aren't you tired of fighting yet?

Ignore the voice, ignore it, it's not real! He had to keep running!

Give in, surrender to your fate, to the darkness you know the universe has become.

"NO! I won't! You aren't real!"

*laughter* Your efforts are fruitless, look how far you've run and yet you are still no closer. That's because it isn't there, there is nothing there!

"That's not true! Get out of my head! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

The dragon staggered, his foot catching on a rock that sent him sprawling forward to land in a heap on the ground. He curled in on himself, hands clasped over his ears, trying desperately to block out the voice, the tormenting laughter that echoed in his ears.

"GET OUT!"

Silence, had that really worked? No, the laughter returned, consuming his senses, the shadows in the fog mocking him, toying with him. His flashlight! Why hadn't he thought of it before, the light, it would prove once and for all to the voice that it was not real!

Scrambling, he pulled his pack--his pack, it was gone! He was sure he had had it only a moment before, what had happened to it? His flashlight, he needed his flashlight!

*laughter*

"SHUT UP!"

He searched frantically, crouching against the ground, feeling with his hands, eyes scanning the thickening fog. Where was it?! Wait--what was that? His fingers grazed something, was that--a scream! The dragon looked with horror at the skeletal hand, scrambling away as fast as he could, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached behind him, grasping something in both hands and bringing it in front of himself defensively. His flashlight!

Flicking it on, he shone the light in the direction of the apparition. There was nothing there, it had only been in his mind. His heart racing, chest heaving with his breath, Sheridan dragged himself to his feet, he had to get out of here!

A glimmer of leather caught his attention, was that his bag? A few steps forward, he bent down to pick it up, it was empty! Wait, it's contents, strew across the ground. Had it flown from his back when he'd fallen? No, that couldn't be, but how...

Papers, more papers, he didn't remember these being in his pack. A paper there, and another one, he picked up each one he saw, distracted from his goal. What did they mean? Where they a clue? A clue to how to get off this wretched island?

(( And we Turn, Turn, Turn...
...profile. ))

Was it just him...or was the fog thickening? The more students that seemed to approach the group...the more dire their situation became. "I...what is this?" He swore he'd had his bag at his side, fingers resting gently on the warn material, not moments before, but now...now it was missing. Ah gods... Grimacing, he went to go looking for it almost without thinking about it. Reality, after all...was what he could hold in his hands, truly feel...and Sharra was starting to seriously question that all the people that had approached then were indeed familiar faces, students from Amityville...and not creatures from the fog taking on reassuring guises.

"Aksaja?" And now it seemed like the dragon boil had wandered off, even as his other companions, Riley and the others, seemed to fade in and out, their eyes seeming eerie in the darkness, as though a faint glow illuminated them. "This has got...to be a trick..." He mumbled, even as the voices of his aunts came to ring in his ears. Ah, not this number again....it wasn't real, wasn't real, could not be real.

And he wasn't going to survive it without a flashlight. Stumbling about in the fog, in what he hoped wasn't too horrendous a distance from the others, though at the same time, he wondered if it wasn't entirely wise to keep away from some of these newcomers....the nergal stooped, clawed fingers trying to find something familiar...and in doing so, he picked up whatever he found laying around. Was this...parchment of some sort? Dammit...where in Jack's name had that flashlight gotten off to? Certainly he couldn't have dropped it...

They took it, they need it for themselves, they don't want you to survive...friends? You don't have those, Sharra...and you left your ghoul all alone, all alone, I wonder what she sees...

Ah Jack, he couldn't imagine Yaya alone in all of this, hurting and without anyone to comfort her, and with a cry, he slammed his clawed hand down onto the ground in frustration. This was miserable, and his heart was trying to pound its way from his chest...out there were the eyes, soft and glowing, seemingly attached to his friends...but they couldn't be his friends if they looked like that. "All lies..." He whispered hoarsely, trying to make his way back to his feet...only to hear a dull 'clickclick' as his toe hit something. Oh. Hello, flashlight.

He could at least trust the flashlight, though little good it would do him in this murk. "I've got to get out of here..." Thoughts of trying to band together with his teammates, were already fleeing his mind.

He was starting to feel the hands again. This wasn't his fault...surely...surely not...