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Regrets? Amrita had plenty of regrets.

First and foremost was not telling Christof that she loved him. The feeling settled uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach as she watched the crystals take over his face, unable to do more than sit and watch with absolute horror. She didn't even try to free her own hand, nor did she acknowledge the crystals quickly growing down her trapped arm. She should have told him while he could still hear her...why didn't she? He was barely there for her, and when he was he rarely listened, but...it was there. That bubbling of feeling. His general absence made any real time she had with him more special; it made every tiny gesture that much more meaningful. Those flowers he had given her on her first date were still in her room, in their own vase for protection. He was special to her, and now she'd never be able to tell him that.

From there, the regrets expanded; she regretted being too weak to go look for her other friends. Yes she saw Aymet, Christof and Roch but...what about Lizzy? Calder? She didn't get the chance to see them one last time, she didn't get the chance to tell them that she was sorry, that she loved them too. Now she would never be able to. Never. Were they even on this island? Were they safe somewhere, free from this crystal death? She could only hope so.

She regretted being captured by the Hunters, she regretted not physically stopping Israfel from getting into that chamber, and she regretted not fighting harder to stop them from putting this parasite in her. More and more she was regretting dying without her revenge. The word was all around her, whispered by thousand upon thousand voices.

She wouldn't live to get her revenge, not for what had been done to her. She wouldn't live to see what her future held. So, above everything else she held regrets for...dying was the first and forefront in her mind as the crystals completely enveloped her.

Then everything went black.

A cracking noise above her caused her anger to dissipate though.

Hel glanced up as the crystals formed above her as well, and grew so large and heavy that they started to break off and fall around her. She couldn’t be mad, right? He made his choice. She made hers. Maybe if he could see them all now, he’d be happy with his choice. All things considered…Hel was still happy with hers.

More cracking, more rain of crystal shards around her…

Hel just took in a deep breath as her gaze swept around, and she stopped trying to move a long time ago. Her body felt heavy now, tired…she couldn’t even feel her spear in her hands anymore. She wasn’t sure why this was happening…but she supposed that it didn’t really matter. Nothing mattered to the dead anyways.

Everything hurt. Her hands hurt from her futile scratching and prying at the crystals; her wings and back hurt from straining to lift her into the air, despite the fact that she was well and truly trapped; her entire being hurt as the crystals leeched her very essence from every point of contact. It threatened to drag her under, but she stubbornly kept fighting. It was, at the very least, enough to overwhelm the terror she felt at the prospect of dying here with everyone else, so far away from home, so much left undone.

It was ultimately futile. The crystals continued to engulf her despite her best efforts. Her wings twitched, the muscles strained beyond use. They drooped to the ground and immediately started to become consumed. Only then did Taima stop struggling. She sagged in her crystal prison, held up by it when she would have otherwise collapsed. She gritted her teeth against the screams of anger, pain, and fear she wanted to let loose, and in her silence heard a single word, over and over.

Revenge.

But why this? Why now? Why against us? Why--

Taima was just as curious in death as she had been in life.

Things began to shake and rattle all around them; all of them. In the jungle around the barrier, the very earth began to jitter about and if the tatzel didn't know any better, something was doing this from underneath them all. Something underneath them was threatening to break the ground they stood on in two- or more. Whatever commotion there was before, it was getting worse.

Levi instinctively coiled her tail to the ground in a crouched position to brace for whatever was to follow. With a hellhound on her shoulders, the ghoul had little choice in what action to take that wouldn't involve Demi potentially dissipating. Rex! Watch'out now! Levi forcefully let him down, certain his footing, and thus safety, would be better met on his own two feet rather than hers right now. It wasn't that she lacked confidence- Levi would not see him burdened in case something happened to her. When the white began to arise, she felt her decision was confirmed; this was bad. Unknown crystals were sprouting and there was no telling what would happen if not them falling into some jagged edges.

When the wrath demon appeared, one of Levi's clawed hands immediately clenched at his shoulder. That's if'we can! Where's tha'gosh darned portal?! She couldn't see it, could he? There was just so much commotion. Her head turned towards West now, taking note that his shoulder was flexed to be particularly stiff right now. Ya'll 're- Then her eyes went wide at seeing the wound sprouting the crystals right out of it. Oh Jack. Pain led to sadness which, as she'd practiced, was turning into anger. The flashing of the white lights ticked her off even more so until... what that a figure coming up behind West? If she was even audible amongst all the things going on right now, Levi felt a rush to act defensively. If they wanted to hurt a damaged West, they'd have to go through her first. To protect him was to stop him from lashing out first. Or at all; could his limbs survive movement as he was without shattering?

Clenching her teeth, Levi's ears rolled back and her nose wrinkled into a snarl while looking over West's shoulder, her teeth visible and meant as a threat. West, ... Levi began harsh in her tone, but there was just no time to think about this any further. She'd do what she had to to get him through without dissipation due to a human sticking him in the back under the distraction of the ground shaking and crystals gleaming. Levi made sure to give him one wide stare like she was remembering the tiniest features of his face in her photographic memory before she rounded both arms around him, forcing the boil's neck to her mouth with both hands and sinking her fangs into West's throat...again. Last time she used her venom on West directly this way, he's gone to sleep; that was what Levi wanted. He wouldn't lose his wonderful primal rage ever if she had anything to do with it. Levi depended on West's ability to ride through everything with a hateful determination.

I'll see'ya soon. If they made it after this, Levi looked forward to his arguing with her over this action. If they didn't... it was a kiss worth giving him.

Levi raged on. The figure in the white light that seemed to be there still -waiting- to move hadn't come just yet. There was still time to save them. She looked over at Demi, an idea on her mind again.

"I dunno," he replied with a snarl. So what if he could barely move and it looked like they were in deep s**t? He wasn't giving up, not when they had been so close to rescuing everyone and getting the hell out of here. He frowned at the concern in her eyes when she saw his wound, frowned at her when she looked behind him at...

"What?" West turned to see for himself, another growl rising in his throat as he saw the pale figure. His limbs were heavy—all of them now, not just his arm and leg—but he had no desire to give up. The screams and grunts of battle faded in and out of his awareness. His growl grew in intensity. West was angry. Finally.

As Levi called his name he turned back, his nerves tickling with a mixture of her rage and his own. His eyes only left her once, his growl faltering as Demi vowed to stay with them. No one was going anywhere. West felt arms encircle him. He tried to lift his, to... comfort her, but they wouldn't rise. And then...

...she bit him.

He hissed as well as he could with a throat so thoroughly unsuited for such things and tried to push her away, which turned out about as well as his hug had. West's vision swam. He swallowed thickly, pushing his crystallizing muscles until his hand was halfway to her cheek.

"I'll..." was all he could manage before he froze, his mind drifting away into unconsciousness.

HP: 8

[[Death Solo]]

Otto wasn't sure if this was the end or not. It certainly felt like he was in a mighty big pinch, that was for sure. Things faded from white to black, time slowed down. Most people started to have flashbacks, right? The tunnel with the light. The road of regrets on the way to Death's door. Maybe that was what he ought to expect.

All his life, everything was handed to him. What to think, what to get, what to say, how to act. He'd hated it, but as life went on at Deus, he started to wonder if maybe he'd had it easy. Maybe having life handed to you like a manual wasn't as bad as he thought it had been. Life at Deus was one big question mark. He'd gone there looking for an alternate path to the one he felt he was being led on. Thought being here, he could gain the power to fight his fears. But all he found was more questions and more fear. The town he'd spent his entire life in never prepared him for the displacement of life at Deus.
He was left wishing he had that manual again. What to do, where to be, how to act, what to say. Anything concrete he could go on.

He always fought the notion he was just a kid, but he never made an effort to prove he wasn't. If he couldn't decide anything on his own, if he was always waiting for direction or for someone to tell him what to do, than that's just what he was. A kid. A kid waiting for mom and dad to tell him what's right. Parents... He never hated his parents, but they were never there for him when he thought he needed them most.
He wanted direction, not orders. He wanted comfort, not tough love. While they may have done things like hiding a dollar under his pillow in exchange for a baby tooth, they couldn't at least humour him once in a while; banging on their door begging them to let him sleep next to them during a thunder storm as a small child.

Retrospecting aside, what if this was the end? Did he have regrets, other than wishing he'd made something of himself? Wishing he'd been more than he was? He was never very social. Socially awkward was his middle name. Making friends didn't come easy, so he avoided it as best he could. He got hurt easily, lonely quickly, so he personified himself as someone who didn't give a s**t one way or another.
He'd likely do it all the same if given the chance. He did what he did because it was his choice.

Regret? No.. he played his life the way he chose to. Regret had no place here.

[for Tack after I finish roadtrippin]