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His grip dug in deeper, at first not understanding why he was being moved. Once he registered he was not being pulled away, and that Rin was moving him, he turned and looked to her. Large, blue eyes stared back at her, just looking. She was here. They were here. There were things he didn't to address around him. Under him. Over him. These things, if addressed, would be too far past his very limited scope of capabilities that had been chipped down to nothing in such a short amount of time. This was preservation, and it meant that on the list, only Rin mattered. Rin and surviving. Surviving meant keeping Rin, his mental North, safe.

So he simply looked at her, rattled, taking in the fact she was here, existing, breathing, and nothing else, as his entire frame shook, a wave of desires to either scream, to pray for unconsciousness, to fear what certain death that would bring, or to throw up in hopes he had gotten every wiggling bit out.

"I have sand in my eye." Was his overly calm response, face blank, eyes as cold as ever.

Standing there staring at Ripley, the teen was all too aware of how much time was passing between the tidbit of information given and his eventual response. He looked unfocused but unhinged, far away but frightened. The immediate danger was here, but his gaze was not on the giant monster behind the wall of fire at her back, but somewhere in the distance in between.
When he did reply she began a rebuttal but dropped it after the first notes, fists clenched at shoulder level that began to untwist.
"Y-you...... You ok?" She asked quietly, cautiously in case he did not prefer her to have noticed. But she was stuck on the sand idea and quickly pointed back down. "You should at least take your gloves off... They'll burn you more, yanno." And in an effort of solidarity she stuck both her hands out toward him, palms up as though just holding hands would fix things.

Abbi tossed one pigtail over her shoulder as she turned around to look at Finn, her mouth tilted into an odd combination of a pout and a smile. Perhaps he was grinning at her, but that light never reached his eyes and he looked still a little pissed. In an effort to be silly and keep that bubbling panic at bay the teen stuck her tongue out at him with a wiggle of fingers before whirling away.
Distraction was always something grabbing the teen's attention and the notice of pink hair caught her. With a small noise she hopped on her toes to wave at Shiloh.
"You have got to stop getting yourself into trouble!" She told him in what she hoped came across as a tease.

A nervous smile turned from Shiloh to Jack and Abbi blinked twice before she jumped high into the air multiple times.
"JACK GIVE ME BACK MY JACKET DID YOU BURN IT YOU BETTER NOT HAVE MISTER!"

"I...I'm okay." Ripley replied to Abbi, perhaps a little more shakily than he intended. It was difficult, but he was working to peel away the layers of fear and pain as though shedding skin, to bury away all traces that it had ever even happened. "No, they won't." He stared at her, focusing on her in order to help ground himself, and when she offered her hand he took them at first, half to prove that his gloves - and by contrast his hands - were okay, and half because he needed the contact to remember what was real.

He held her hands for a moment or two, and just before he let her go he gave them a small squeeze of gratitude. The short amount of contact had been enough, and now he could turn to Shiloh and work on getting himself back to, well, himself, much easier.


"No? Well, that's good. I take back what I said about feeling bad." Not that he said he felt bad at all, simply that he had been sorry. "Feeling okay? Bugs all gone?" It was a legitimate concern; it wasn't every day you were possessed by bugs. Poor Shiloh. For a moment he was distracted, his gaze turning to watch Finn be, well, Finn.

"...Glad to see your smiling face again, sunshine." Ripley reached out to pat Finn's shoulder, and immediately regretted the decision as the burns sent a small shock of pain up his arm. "I never knew you were so sensitive." Not that he was really one to talk; he was still chalk white and mildly trembling.

"...Come to think of it, I haven't." But now that Jack mentioned him, Ripley looked around for Ian, looking concerned. His scan of the area instead found him an arm raised from the sand and a little voice begging to be helped. A familiar one, whom he recalled to be fond of Romeo and Juliet for some reason.

"Hang in there, miss. I got you~" Ripley made his way over and grabbed Pandora's waving hands, heaving to try and pull the poor girl from the sand dune.

He looked at her, letting the words join bit by bit before it made a full sentence and went to processing.

When he finally got her question, he looked down at the gun in his hand, and looked back up. He slowly shook his head. Then, with a hard, dry swallow, uttered a little "no" to her.

Candace's shouts brought a wince and a flinch from Lance. "Sorry! I'll owe you later," He called as he continued to dig himself out of the sand dune akin to Pandora's plight.

"You too," She urged the same of him and attempted to slide him back around like a cape again. It was the only way she was going to be useful to anyone right now.

She grabbed Byr and held him up again. His runes were blazing green. "I can heal anyone who needs it! Byr is charged."