Funny how, if you thought about it long enough, it was the alien woman that has caused both of the massive men on the beach to end up grounded. The smallest thing taking down the two largest, and herself too. What a piece of work. With Man Spots down on the ground, you can't help but break into a round of rumbling laughter, the way the sand sprays up around his overly-large ass a dramatic finale to his graceful tumble downwards. Admittedly, he did fall a lot more smoothly than you did. Maybe. It's hard for you to say for sure, your vision is swirling a little bit, an effect of the drugs and all the extra motions you've been going through. Chasing after weird aliens is no easy task, obviously. And Man Spots was doing his best to make it harder.

And then, for some Gods unknown reason, the alien woman is apologizing. To Man Spots? You snort your disapproval. And you try to open your mouth, to tell her not to apologize to that asshole of a large, glorious stallion, but just sort of end up laughing, because all the sudden everyone seems really concerned, staring out at the ocean. Well, mostly the alien woman, but in your short time as best friends, you haven't known Man Spots to stare at anything so intensely. And so, while you don't get it, you think for a moment maybe they're concerned by you. But then your vision clears up long enough for you to really get a good sense of where they're staring and you realize that you're right about one thing- they're looking at the ocean. But they're not looking at you, they're looking past you. So suddenly what few instincts for self preservation kick into gear and you begin to flail around in the water.

For Man Spots and the alien woman, they're lucky they've got a little bit of room between themselves and you. You kick around like a moron, trying to force your body up, trying to escape the ebb and flow of the tide, trying to get your body to do what you want it to. And for a moment you feel like you're in battle, your body influenced by drugs but trying to work past the sensation, and your limbs manage to make sense of what they're doing and you begin to force yourself skyward.

It's funny, the sensation of being scared of something and you don't even know what it is. Especially for you. You've lived I the murkiest, nastiest places in Helovia and walked through the night like an Angel through Hell. But now? You're not really sure what it is, but the look in their faces is too... chilled, to real, to be without merit. And of the three of you, you're pretty certain that you're the most important one here. So angry at them or not, you heed their silent warnings and finally find yourself standing on your feet, turning to look and see what they're so concerned by.

And somewhere in the midst of all your flailing and standing and wobbling back and forth now that you're up, you see what they see, you feel the chill they feel, you know that you're small and insignificant to the gods and the evil that rule this land, even if you don't want to admit it. The blackness rolls forth and without even thinking about it, you take the final few steps out of the water, closer to the pair, staring it down, trying to figure out what it is, but in your heart you already know. It is evil. Pure and genuine evil, soulless and careless. This again. You've seen it once before take over your swampy home. Now it comes to take your beach... your drugs.

Now your heart dies for a different reason. A careless shove of your nose into your bag confirms your worst fears. Your plant supply is running low and the only place you've found the vines growing is between the Beach and the Swamp. So when you finally decided to answer Man Spots you kind of go the way of the alien woman. “FUCK LEAVING,” you shout, mostly to the blackness, angry that it would dare to take away your vines.... your life. Because how can you live without them? You shudder to think.

And for once you and the alien woman have something in common, shouting at the blackness like you're going to be able to stop it. But now you know what you must do. You have to test fate. It's a race against the clock, but fuck if you're going to lose. “Deep Forest,” you command the other two, as if they'll listen, but you don't wait to see. You take off, body fighting against your drug induced lack of coordination in an effort to maintain some sort of speedy pace. And yet, you seem to be going the wrong way, towards the swamp and death instead of the other way to freedom. But you've got to pick some vines, got to have them in your bag. Because if this darkness is going to ruin your life, you're sure as hell not going to do it sober. Not that you're going to stick around any longer than you need to. You're going to pick your vines and leave. Screw dying.

OOC| Oxy out. This was the funniest thread I've ever had the pleasure of participating in. Lets do it again some time, hahahaha.