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Nevada watched the others run, and for some reason had a calm default of walking. She hadn't made it very far, and the clicking was closer than ever.

Well, she had gotten what she wished at least.

Poor Stormy.

finally she just turned, sick of running and looked at the beast.

"Coming for you I guess." She closed her eye and then disappeared.

"Crowell." Ripley corrected Jack quickly, but in a moment paused. "Unless you're in on our Supernatural nickname set, in which case I'm less Crowley and more Sammy, apparently." He cast a glance to Ian, offering his shocked comrade the ghost of a smile. "But hey, yelling did the trick." Or maybe it was just Jack's impossibly long legs. Who knew.

"I...kind of hope it isn't, but judging from some of the reactions..." His answer hung in the air for a moment, explained away with a hopeless shrug. For a moment he hugged Abbi tighter, and then eased his arm away from her.

Joking aside, his expression fell. "I never thought it'd be so easy to lose someone here..." Someone he didn't know much, but had shoved him to get him to run regardless. "What was his name, anyway? The one with the pink hair."

Whoops. Damn shame, though, he actually liked Crowelly better. Rolled off the tongue. Or maybe Cromwell, that would have been a riot.

There were, what, one, two, three, four, five, six . . . maybe more? Six out. Six down in one night without warning. his heart was still pounding, yet Jack's face remained in an awfully polite state, inclining his head to the trio (who looked like a mass of one human in the dying light while he stood apart).

Eying them, he gave the wine bottle a shake. "Shiloh, huh? Mm. Still got at least half a bottle's worth here," Jack offered. "For, ah, toasts and all." He literally did not know how to react beyond conversationally. No wonder he had seen some Hunters talk about death without batting an eye--it came so quick you didn't have time to mourn.

Though frankly Jack's disbelief was strong enough that he wasn't in the mindset of Finn and the rest being gone anyway.

"Everyone alright, then? Physically, I mean." He didn't need a description to figure out the emotional part, especially judging from what little of the expression he could make out otherwise (or in spite of, for the more stoic ones).

A teeny, tiny little whine was running through Abbi's head as Viveca did her best to hold the tenuous string of Abbi's consciousness together with helpful phrases, mostly constructed of oddly joined curses and praise. A small laugh left her at Jack's words, not really enjoying them but more a formality because that would be what he expected. But it was half hearted as the teen's eyes followed the form of Nevada until it was gone. Just like that, gobbled up and gone.
The whine in her head turned into a high pitched keen and for a moment Abbi felt alright when Ripley hugged her. But then it was over and she turned her gaze toward Mr. Tall, Dark and Sad.
"Shiloh is a really pretty name... I liked his boots." That was surely the worst bit of comfort ever offered, but she wasn't really sure how to take in everything right now. This was supposed to be fun and instead it turned into a game of red-light green-light. Except way, way worse.
{ I will shut up right now if you promise to pull yerself togetha! }

Abbi blinked at Jack, confused by the bottle. Why would they toast? Nevada was eaten and Finn too and Shiloh with his pretty boots and and and--
"I think I'm gonna sit down now..." She mumbled in a thick, woozy voice as she bent her knees and tried to let herself fall, still attached to Ripley's arm.

Shiloh.

His name was Shiloh.

Was.

Everyone had run towards Mimsy and Robert, escaping the monster that surfaced from its hiding place in the stars. Apparently, he'd picked a fine place to vomit in, so far from the party that they were safe. Except. They really weren't.

He heard the whispers of those who'd escaped successfully. Already talking about the pink haired boy as if he was a casualty. As if he was the past.

But he'd just been patting Robert's back. He was just there.

Robert had just about enough of losing to death for one lifetime.

"Mimsy, stay." He growled, a decision forming in his head. While others were running away from the monster, Robert was doing the opposite. His hard footfalls in the sand led him straight towards the glowing beast, but not before making the smallest little pitstop. His hand wrapped around the flask on the floor, still half filled with the liquid he'd mistakenly ingested.

This probably wouldn't work.

He tried anyway.

"Here's hoping you're allergic to assholes," Robert hissed out into the water, as he continued running straight for the monster until it snapped him up like a treat and he, too, disappeared.

Yeah, Mimsy thought that's what he'd said. She continued to watch him with narrowed eyes, until he mentioned something about an 'astral thing'. After a slow blink, she shook her head, even more confused than she had been before.

"No, this was arbitrary planning...the next cosmic event that will be visible from Earth is October seventh, and we have not yet made it to the end of September, as far as I..."

Her gaze had followed his, and it had not at all been difficult to discover the reason for his odd question.

"What is it?" she murmured, clapping her hands together.

Others had begun to notice and react to the anomaly, the sound of shouting and breaking bottles filling the air behind her. She could hear Shiloh's voice, calling for Finn, and as she glanced back towards the party - away from the clicking and the brilliant glow - she caught the sight of a disappearing Lucky.

She giggled, and turned to boast about her victory to Robert; instead, she was distracted by the glow of the waves that broke on the shore.

"Bioluminescence!" Her smile was wide with wonder. "How incredible! I wonder what the correlation between--"

But she didn't have to finish that sentence, because that was suddenly very obvious.