Blackwater Islands 2+2=5 (The Lukewarm)

Whip's body was there among the cliffs, staring out to the inky black abyss below. His mind however was elsewhere, drifting (or rather, flailing), in an eerily similar place. He could feel himself disassociating as the line between reality and Whip's dark thoughts began to blur together. It was a strange, terrifying sensation; crashing over him in great waves of existential dread. It was as if he could feel himself separate completely from the boy he was when he felt normal. Now, he was a different being. He was out of control. It was like a waking dream -- feeling as if none of this was real. As if he weren't real.

It was moments like this that call to the void felt strongest. The salty spray of the angry sea below buffeted Whip's blank, listless face. The sea was calling to him, bidding him to step forward. He felt an odd compulsion to answer Her call and tumble over cliff into the dark below, but his trembling limbs would not move. He was frozen to the spot.

Whip felt like crying, and while that wasn't entirely possible (with the whole sans tear-ducts thing), he did choke out a strangled sob. He had not yet noticed the Matriarch beside him, but he soon felt her presence. He looked to her with pleading eyes and his mouth opened to say something, anything, but no words came. There was only a dry, pittiful croak as he continued to sob.