((Hehe, if you ever play RE 5, you'll know what this town looks like . . . it's a 3rd world country setting. And it's a fun game. :)))

Zarrah shook with worry, and she sighed slightly. "We have medicine," she said tiredly, "do you know what works?" She was on her feet quickly, stepping around Mother and over to a large human-sized bag. Pulling a few bottles of pills out, Zarrah set them on the ground and motioned Isis over. "Do you read?" she asked, looking at the many lables in frustration.

((I shall keep that in mind then.))

Hearing how tired the doll in front of her was worried Isis to no end. She watched as the pale doll pulled bottles of pills out of th ehuman sized purse. The frustration was evident on Zarrah's face as she looked at the labels. "Yes, I can read. I know of a few that could work...I just have to see what I have to work with." Isis stepped closer to the bottles and read the lables, ruling out two bottles right away. She read the symptoms on the bottles an dfinally picked one. She struggled for a moment before finally getting the top off and shook on two strange blue colored pills. "She will need to take theses. "

Zarrah nodded, taking the pills in her arm. "She'll wake soon," the pale doll said, handing the blue tablets to another doll. "But only for a few minutes. Maybe we can get her to swallow them."
Staring at Mother's sleeping face, the blue-haired doll blinked slowly. "She's sick," she said, "and it affects the first dolls she brought to life." Moving to face the others, the dolls that watched them will dull eyes, Zarrah shook her head. "Or maybe we're just fading away." She sighed. "Maybe we're all going to die."
Turning to face Isis again, Zarrah nodded. "You helped us. Thank you." Though she said the words, they sounded hollow, lacking any real conviction. She sounded hopeless. "Perhaps when Mother recovers, we will too."

Isis nodded and continued to look at Mother. Zarrah had a point, and it scared Isis because she knew that what Zarrah said was true. If Mother's illness was affecting the first dolls she had brought to life, then if Mother passed, it was a likely thing that all of them would become lifeless once more. Isis felt her eyes prick with tears as she thought about losing Lost. Though it hadn't been long, Isis didn't want to lose her friend. "She will get better. She has too. Make sure she takes those two pills when she wakes up. Maybe you can try asking her what is wrong. It would help knowing what made her so sick." She said as she stood up. "I have to got back for Lost. I can't leave him out there." Isis headed for the opening of the tent. She only hoped she could remembered where exactly he was. If she could do anything to keep all thses dolls alive, she would do it. No matter what happened to her.

"He knows his way here," Zarrah stated, watching Isis head to the tent opening. Watching the doll with wide eyes, she shrugged. "I will find you if you get lost. When Mother wakes, I'll come find you." She then turned her attention to Mother again, ignoring Isis completely.


Lost gasped for breath, finally feeling the cool air enter his lungs. What was that? He felt weak, and when he opened his eyes, he found he could barely move. He felt numb, weary. The dark-skinned doll struggled to sit up, looking around him as he did. Mist, darkness, and trees was all he could see.
"Isis?" he whispered, a frown appearing on his face. The last thing he remembered was Zarrah crying out in pain, and a searing agony in his own chest. But what of Isis?
Forcing himself to his feet, the doll looked for a sign that would tell him which way the two girls had gone. After many minutes, he found none. Lost shook his head in frustration, moving to lean against a tree's damp trunk to rest. Where was he?
Looking around again, he felt drawn in one direction - but was it the right one? Lost shoved himself away from his support, heading forward. There was only one way to find out.

Isis nodded and stepped out of the tent and walked through the town. Once she slipped through the rotted fence, she stopped and looked ahead of her. She remembered walking for a few minutes before coming to the edge of the trees. She had been so busy trying to get out of Zarrah's grip she hadn't paid very much attention to the direction they had headed in. Shaking her head, Isis took off at a job and disappeared into the trees.

Lost glared at the tree before him. He had seen it at least fifteen different times. His black eyes closed, and he sighed. Turning to rest back against the damp trunk, the doll growled to himself. A sudden realisation made him frown. I lost Isis.
The thought seemed to burn him, sending him walking back into the suffocating mist. He would find her. Lost continued on, stopping to rest as often as he could. It was about an hour later when he heard footsteps approaching. Have I been heading in the right direction after all? The dark-skinned doll headed toward the noise, coughing lightly. Hopefully it was a friend, not an enemy.
It was then that he saw Isis through the fog. He took a deep breath, heading toward her quickly. He intercepted her swiftly, wrapping his arms about her without warning.
"Isis," he whispered, drawing her close.

Isis found herself feeling lost as she wandered through the trees. The mist was thick, as was the fog setting low to the ground. She stopped and looked around ehr, turning to the right, then to the left after five minutes. She knew she shouldn't have left Lost out there. Despite what Zarrah said, about Lost being able to find his way, Isis felt terrible for leaving him behind like that. She would make it up to him, she had to. Hearing a light cough, one that sounded all to familiar to her, Isis was surprised when she felt something wrap around her and pull her. She then realised that it was a pair of arms. Hearing her name, Isis hugged her friend tightly, squeezing him gently. "Lost!"

Pulling away from Isis, he looked into her eyes. What he saw there comforted him, thought Lost still gave her shoulders a squeeze. "What happened?" His voice was rough, as it usually was, but it sounded a bit more worried. The doll lifted Isis' chin, scanning her face as he watched her. Lost didn't want to lose her again. Without waiting for Isis to reply, he leaned down and kissed her lips gently, his hands still on her shoulders. I missed you. He let his movements show his feelings, ignoring the words that pulled their way into his mind.

Guilt clouded her thoughts at the worried tone in his voice. He must had been so worried about her. Isis watched him as he lifted her chin and looked her over. She had been about to answer him when he surprised her. Isis had not been expecting him to kiss her. It took a few seconds for the doll's mind to process what was happening before she responded. She pressed her lips against his and sighed inwardly to herself. Lost didn't have to tell her how he felt, he was showing her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him a little closer before pulling back gently. Her cheeks turned a light shade of red as she stumbled over her words, still a little shocked by the kiss and how she had reacted to it. "Y-You...passed out and she dragged me away....there's a town not too far from here. Mother...she's really sick. It seems to be affecting the forst dolls she changed. I'm not affected, at least not yet."

So Mother really did need them. Lost watched Isis stutter over her words, his face expressionless once again. Honestly, her hesitance and uncertainty was rather cute. The dark-skinned doll blinked slowly, nodding. The first dolls were sick. So was he, but he had been "born" with his sickness; it was a side effect from being raised with Life.
Zarrah had pulled Isis away from him, and they had gone to Mother. Isis had come back for him. The thought made his heart soar, but it didn't show on his features - only in his eyes.
Lost grabbed Isis' hand in his, hesitating noticably before he did. Linking his fingers between hers, he looked in the direction she had come from. It was time to go to Mother.

"She wakes," a few of the sick dolls muttered, and moved closer to Mother, huddling against her heated form. Zarrah watched Mother stir, and looked over to the two blue pills that Isis had suggested. Mother muttered a few things to the nearest doll, and a few others nodded emphatically. There was a reason they had sought dolls that didn't come from their own town. They needed their help in more ways than one.
"Make her swallow those," she told one of the dolls. When the boy nodded, Zarrah headed for the front of the tent. Moving to the rotted fence, she looked about - Isis and Lost were on their way through the mist a few feet away. "She wakes," the blue-haired girl said, motioning the couple over. "And she speaks." Zarrah hesitated when she saw their entwined hands. It would be harder now that they were attached to one another. "She needs you now."

Lost tilted his head to the side, pulling Isis with him as he approached the tattered tent.
Mother was finally sitting up, holding a small glass of water in her hand, and looked weary as she spoke to a few of the dolls that sat huddled around her. When Isis and Lost stepped into the tent, the elder woman smiled sadly.
"Hello again, darlings."
Lost's breathing halted. Staring at the aged woman, his eyes widened. She looked so weak, so frail and sick. Like she was withering away. The doll forced himself to breathe again, glancing to Isis before stepping forward to reach up to Mother. He touched her hand and shied away, frowning. She was burning with fever.
"I need you to do something for me," Mother said quietly, reaching out a hand to gently stroke Isis' hair and then pat Lost's head. "I know it's a lot to ask of you, but you two are the only ones that can help me. The Others cannot do it . . . they are sick."
The elder sighed, and took a small sip from her cup.
"I am dying," she whispered, looking down at the dolls sadly. "But there is a way I can stave off death."
Lost glanced at Isis, his black eyes wide. This woman could do most anything . . . or, she could in the doll's eyes.
"I," Mother hesitated, "I must ask for something that you hold dear. I am so sorry, my dears." She reached out to touch each of the dolls again, looking sad. "I need one of you to give your life back to me."

Isis saw him hesitate before taking her. She thought nothing of it though. They continued to walk through the mist. Mother was in need of their help. She hadn't looked too bad when she had been sleeping. The woman hat was sitting up looked nothing like the Mother they had all known. She was so sick, and weak, and pale. Isis felt like crying for the old woman.
Isis felt a her heart stop beating at Mother's words. One of them had to become a lifeles doll once again in order to save Mother. She gasped softly, feeling a slight pain in her chest at the thought of loosing Lost. It didn't seem fair, but Mother had to live, or else all of them would no longer be alive. Isis felt hot tears roll down her cheeks. "I-Is there...is there no other way Mother?" Isis knew there wasn't, which caused the pain to increase.

No, Mother mouthed, blinking back tears of her own. Lost frowned, stepping closer to Isis. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Why now? Why not before he had met Isis? Reaching up, the doll brushed a few of her tears away, cupping them in one of his dark hands. His free hand was still linked withing Isis' fingers, refusing to let her go.
"I might be able to bring you back," Mother said quietly, "But I don't know for sure. I've never had to do this before. I have never taken back the gifts I have given." The old woman placed the cup she was holding onto the ground beside her, and gently reached out to lift both dolls into her lap as she sat crosslegged.
Lost grimaced as their hands were gently pulled apart, and he forced his gaze to drift back to Mother's face instead of Isis. Things were falling so swiftly . . . was there no good thing for them after this point?
Placing Isis on her left knee and Lost on her right, Mother cleared her throat. "I remember the day I raised you, little Isis." Her brown eyes softened, and she reached forward to touch the tears that spilled over the doll's cheeks. "You were so curious, so beautiful. But not quite as beautiful as you are now. You have a light about you," the old woman hesitated. "You're in love." Her gaze moved to Lost.
"Lost," she smiled sadly. "I gave you and your brother the opportunity to live. I wished for you to grow closer to one another. But even in your seperation, you have found another." Mother chuckled. "A young woman, at that." Lost's black eyes were wide, but everything about him showed no expression. The only thing that belied his anxiety was his tense form as he gripped a bit of Mother's pants in his dark hands.
"The two of you will suffer because of my own age," Mother said, looking from one to the other. "I am so sorry." With a few tears trickling over her aged cheeks, she shook her head. "I wouldn't do this unless there was no other way. I would never take your life. But if I die, then all of you will as well."
Lost shifted, thinking of the death that was obviously ahead of them. Mother smiled at him sympathetically, trying to lighten the mood. "Once I take my life back from you, I might be able to raise you once more . . . but there would be a side effect." The woman grimaced. "You wouldn't remember your previous life. It would be like starting all over again."
Meeting Lost's gaze, Mother nodded. There were words there that he hadn't spoken; words that he had been conveying to Mother ever since she started talking.

Take me.

As much as Isis hated what mother was going to do She could never hate the woman. Mother loved them all so much. If she hadn't, she would not have brought any of them to life. Sheaned into the woman's hand as she lifted them both up and set them on her knees. She remembered the first time she had finally met Mother. It was the first time she had ever felt wanted since her time with little Leah. That had been many years ago. Isis blushed. She really was in love, and it hurt so much knowing what would happen. Isis didn't know which was worse. To know that thir life would be taken, or the fact that they would not remember anything of this life. It wasn't fair, either way you looked at it.

Isis caught the silent exchange between Lost and Mother. It took a few moments for her to figure out what it ment before she shook her head. He couldn't be asking for this. He would never remember her while she had to remember him. It wasn't fair at all. How could everything be falling apart in such a short amount of time?

Mother let her eyes drift to the floor. The Other's that were observing slowly stood, and headed outside of the tent - this was a time meant for silence and privacy. Zarrah herself paused at the door, eventually turning around and coming to stand beside Isis. Looking up at her, the pale doll motioned with a thin hand. "It's time to go."
Lost blinked slowly, his black eyes moving to Isis. He stiffened again, freezing as he looked at her. As Zarrah tried to get Isis to follow her, Lost shook his head, a slight frown creasing his dark face. "Wait," he rasped, scrambling to his feet and walking across Mother's legs to stand before Isis. Watching her, Lost carefully pulled her to her feet, cupping either side of her face. There were no words for this. Slowly moving so his lips were inches from hers, the doll spoke. "Remember me," he whispered roughly, kissing her. When he pulled away, Lost immediately turned to face Mother, pulling his hands away from Isis quickly. It hurt to do so, but he allowed Zarrah to tug Isis to stand beside her. "Ready," he whispered, bringing his black eyes up to Mother's face.

"It's time to go," Zarrah said softly, wrapping a skinny arm about Isis' shoulders and pulling her toward the tent's canvas flap. She continued to tug her along until they stood outside. Multiple dolls loitered about, and many of them raised their heads to watch Isis and Zarrah leave the tent.
"Come over and drink," the blue-haired doll muttered, motioning toward the small store of water. She swiftly found a cup and filled it with liquid, holding it out to Isis. "Drink."
A somber mood filled the camp, and everyone settled into a silence - not even the wind made noise.

A single cry filled the clearing. Lost.

Isis became aware of the others leaving the tent silently. She felt Zarrah standing next to her, but Isis didn't want to go with her. In her heart she knew she had to go, she just could bring herself to do it. Isis' sad eyes looked into Lost' face. nodded slightly before his kissed her. She would do whatever he wanted, even if it hurt her to do it. She felt a tug at her heart when he pulled away and let go of her.
Isis was barely aware of the pale arm that was now around her shoulder and tugging her along. Isis was trembling now, tears falling down her cheeks silently. She took the cup but refused to drink. She stared down at the liquid inside the cup solemly. Isis cringed at the sound of the scream It took everything she had to not turn and run back into the tent. She whimpered softly.

((:cry: I'm all emo right now. Anyone watching me must think I'm nuts. *sniffle*))

"Everything will be okay," Zarrah patted Isis' arm awkwardly, flinching at Lost's cry. A quiet whispering started through the Others. What happened? Is Mother alright? What happens now? Once again, all fell silent as the tent's flap rustled, and Mother stepped out. In her arm she cradled Lost, unmoving. He was, for the second time, a lifeless form. A doll.
Looking down to the small people about her, Mother murmured a few words of comfort. She was feeling fine. Things were going to get better. Yes, she was going to live. Mother stepped over to Isis, a sympathetic look on her old face. "You will see him again, dear," she whispered, looking to the seemingly sleeping doll in her arms. "I will return Lost to you soon." The woman headed back toward the tent, motioning for Isis to follow. "Do you want to wait with me? Or do you want to stay out here with the Others?"

((If it makes you feel any better. I almost cried reading the first post that mentioned one of them would have to give up their life. I mean really. I almost balled like a baby.))

Of course Mother would return him to her, but he would not remember anything that had happened since they had met in the kitchen. She took a deep breath and looked up at mother, almost losing control of her emotions when she saw Lost in her arms. Her chest ached but she had to go with Mother. Though she held nothing against the Others, their whispering was making her feel worse. She followed mother into the tent, tring hard not to break down in front of the woman. Isis knew Mother felt guilty enough for having asked this of them, and Isis didn't need to make to old woman feel worse. Losing Lost felt like losing Calla all over again. Take another deep breath to try and calm herself, Isis wiped at her tears.

Mother carefully let Lost lay on her makeshift bed, his lifeless body looking peaceful. The doll seemed so . . . serene, like he was sleeping. His expression was as close to content as it ever had been - the only thing that Lost lacked was his breath, his life.
"It's almost like capturing the light of the sun," Mother said quietly, lifting Isis to place her on the bed's blankets beside the boy. "Like taking the warmth and life it brings, and putting it into something. It allows you to move, to think. To feel." The old woman gingerly touched Isis' shoulder, looking her in the eye. "You love him. He loves you. You're just have to remind him." Mother brushed Lost's dark hair away from his face. "When dawn comes, he will be with us again. But for now, it is time to rest. It is time for all of us to rest." The woman moved to sit beside the bed. Patting her lap, she smiled. Though it was barely dinner time, evening was on it's way. "Come and sleep, Isis."

((*sniffle* :cry:))

Isis listened to mother and sighed softly. It was easier said than done. If he didn't remember anything at all, would be still be the same as before, or would he be different? At the very least he looked peaceful. Isis had never seen him look this way, not once. Isis looked up at the woman and sighed in defeat. No natter how much she wished she could blame the woman for everything, Isis didn't have the heart to. She loved mother, just as much as she loved Lost. She got up and climbed into Mothers lap. Isis felt exhausted from the latest events, though she didn't feel like sleeping. Her thoughts sill lingering on the kiss he hd given her before letting mother tak ehis life. Her breath caught in her throat for moment before she shook her head. She only hoped the Lost would retain some of his old self when he woke up.

((Grrr . . . the weekend had to come now! Bah, I'll have to reply later. :XD How frustrating! :squee:))

((Don't fret. I will be patient and wait, though I too am a little mad about the weekend coming. ))

((I'll start working on a post . . . lots of homework that I need to get done, and it takes precedence over my RPing. :XD))

((Like I said, I'll wait. I have a final assignment I've been working on, putting finishing touches on it while I'm in between RP's.))

Morning was slow in coming. When darkness finally lifted, the dawn glow filled the small village with hope. Mother woke long before Isis, and carefully lay the girl down on the bed. Picking up Lost, the old woman smiled a bit. A brave boy, as always. The doll stirred in her arms, letting out a soft moan.
"Who?" Lost stared up at Mother in confusion, his black eyes wide. His voice was low and cracked, as it always had been. Looking down at his dark hands, the doll frowned.
"I am Mother," the old woman said quietly, brushing the boy's hair back out of his face. "I am a friend. All dolls are your friends now, Lost."
"Lost," he repeated, shaking his head. His gaze met Mother's, and he listened to her as she explained his previous life. He was a lifeless doll, never able to see the world as it truly was - and now, he was alive. Free to experience life as he best saw fit.
Looking down at Isis as she slept, a strange look passed over his face. "Who?" he asked, slowly moving his hand to point at the girl. Mother chuckled before telling Lost that Isis, too, was a friend. "She's beautiful."
Mother smiled at Lost's words, and patted his head as the boy yawned. Though he had just awoken, he was still worn out from his waking. It took a lot of energy to wake up for the first time. As with every doll, Lost would have to recover - a few days of rest and he would be fine.
"Go to sleep, dear one," Mother placed Lost back on the bed, and he wearily sat on it's edge. "When you wake, we'll find you something to eat."
Lost nodded tiredly, his eyelids dropping as he lay down, pulling his legs up on the bed. Casting one last glance over to Isis, the dark-skinned doll yawned and lay still, drifting into sleep.