((OOC: This post occurs between the November 12 and November 26 sessions.))
Aidan slogs through a sticky, reddish-brown liquid, the stuff painting his calves and bringing a foul taste into the back of his mouth. The coppery tang of it reaches him then, and he tries desperately not to retch.
His foot strikes something, and a small part of his mind urges him not to look, but something else compels him to do it anyway. He looks down, and sees Aaron sprawled in the muck, his head at an unnatural angle. His throat closes up, his eyes closing involuntarily as he stumbles backward, only to collide with something hard and unyielding. He glances up, and immediately wishes he hadn't; Ariadne lies among the branches of a dead tree, lifeless and pale, a raw wound in her chest.
More visions assail him - Shun, Arianrhod, Aya...all of them lifeless and cold, and the impact of his loss, the knowledge that he's utterly alone, strikes him like a physical blow. "No...no...NO!"
He jerks awake with a strangled cry, the taste of sickness in his mouth, and stumbles to the bathroom. Several seconds later, he's kneeling on the floor, trying to get the shaking under control as he alternates between being hot and cold and then back again.