May breathes a sigh of relief when nothing happens with that mist.<br/>She chuckles slightly. "I don't know what I thought was going to happen th...Oh, dear..." Her demeanor changes from relieved to concerned, when the mist appears attached to the spiky colourful one's fingers. "Who knew fog could be sticky."<br/>She hurries closer and uses the hem of her swing dress as a fan, trying to flap the mist away from the loud stranger and back to its receptacle. Seeing that doesn't help, she pulls out a handkerchief from her pocket. "Don't worry, it's clean." she says absent-mindedly as she uses it to dab  at the mist as if it were a stain.<br/>"Oh, my goodness..." Her heart sinks when she sees the mist wind around the handkerchief and beginning to coil up her black gloves.<br/>Then everything goes a tad unusual.<br/>May falls onto her knees when the pain hits, one hand on the floor and the other against her abdomen. She had not yet fully healed...Was this internal bleeding? The pain in places she knows of mingle with new agony in other, intact parts of her, and there is something almost comforting in that.<br/>Her eyes fly up to try and look at the others. They are clearly in pain, too...Poor souls.<br/>Rather to  go like this, than to go back. Perhaps there was mercy, here.<br/>Darkness.<br/>"Hello?" She tries to call, but either cannot speak or sound does not travel.<br/>This must be the gate of death.<br/>It could be worse.<br/>It probably was going to get much worse very soon, but she had made her peace with that..<br/>Then she sees the white whisp again, dancing before her. She smiles, tears forming in her eyes as it dances.<br/>At least she gets to see something beautiful, even if just one last time.<br/>Then, it becomes her violin, or what was left of it: shattered pieces and a snapped bow. She reaches out for it, but then it moves: the fragments float around her, then a needle and thread form, and she knows what she must  do. Like with a new puzzle of a picture she knows, so well she can see each detail with her eyes closed, May reaches out for each piece of her violin and puts it back together, sowing through the wood effortlessly with the needle and silver thread. She ties the bow so it stands true once more, and looks tearfully at her handiwork.<br/>It will never play the same again, but that thread will never break...And nobody could take that away from her.<br/><i>I'm ready to go now</i>. She thinks, grateful for this moment of peace.<br/>But what happens next isn't what she is expecting...<br/><br/>May pushes, drowning in the darkness, then falls to the floor, covered in the vile goo.<br/>She retches.<br/>"Excuse me...." May apologizes before being sick again.<br/>She hears the sounds of the other two women. They must have had the same experience. May a breaths a sigh of relief.<br/>They are alive.<br/>She is alive!<br/>May begins to smile...<br/>And vomits again.<br/>"Pardon me." She says helplessly.<br/>Eventually she musters the strength to get up, and hears the sound of water. May rests her hand against the wall. "Please let that be a way to freshen up..."<br/>She waits to make sure the other two can stand, and begins to carefully make her way to the showers ahead.<br/>Her eyes widen as she sees the communal baths.<br/>"Where's the hamper?" She murmurs, looking around as she undoes her dress. The place was so clean and tidy, it would be a shame to make a mess... May's eyes fall on her feet and the trail of black goo in her footsteps. Too late for that.<br/>With a sigh, she lets her dress fall to the ground and walks, gloves on,  to the shower which is less visible.<br/>Keeping her back to the other ladies, May peels off her gloves, winching.<br/>She washes her hands and arms as quickly as she can, barely able to look at them, and washes her gloves to the best of her abilities. Still wet, May puts them back on, never looking at her hands; she now is no longer concerned for the eyes of the other two women. May continues with a more thorough cleanse of her hair and body, then looks in surprise at her hair: it's back to its original, natural red! "What do they<i>put</i>in this shampoo?" She murmurs, wondering if perhaps she had unintentionally bought a poor quality die.<br/>"This seems like a lot of steps for some counterfeit documents" May muses, loud enough for the others to hear.<br/>"We haven't been properly introduced. I'm May."