Sainte Marie Mère de Dieu! All of a sudden his world turned around and what he was seeing was out of the mind of druggie's biggest trip!
The Frenchman didn't remember if he had done drugs in his 'previous' life. But he definitely had tried since stepping out of that London street clinic a few months ago. Living with no memories was difficult. He tried to play his best poker face when out and about, but mentally, being a man with no identity, no recollection of those moments that made a man who he was - his parents, his childhood, the friends he had made, the first girl he had kissed, maybe a broken heart, maybe a hard life in the streets - it was taking its toll on him! So yes he had tried some drugs; must have been last month give or take. Zen, Bliss, Novacoke. Well none of it helped him much with his memory.
Well, in any case, now he knew what 'tripping' really meant! He closed his eyes to focused on his other senses, but realized he was still "seeing" everything. It was like he had just gained another sort of sense. It was freaking him out.
The Snow girl was on fire, ISaint wearing some shinny bright antique costume, Al almost attacked by so sort of Hounds, more demons and horrors flying around him. The Frenchman took a deep breath. It was just a Bad Trip, a magical illusion of some sort, or toxic poison that touched his skin. His hand sled to his gun. He kept on taking deep breath. His attention was switching, from one bright thing to another. Sounds... there were some, muffled voices of his companions and rhythmical beat of a marching army. Odors, he could smell, but his olfactory sensor was not sending him back any analysis. Touch, he still felt the weight of his Coat, Chameleon suit and bag, the stretch of his muscle as he took a step
He had to take a few step back, trying hard to focus on something more tangible. He looked down at himself and the contrast was terrifying. Where his companions were shining different hues and intensity of light, he was but darkness and shadows. A feint blue hue that pulsated with his heartbeats was all he could really discerned. Even here, he was nothing, a shadow of himself, a dark spot in a torrent of light. Only Nitro seemed like him, all the extravagant clothing and augmentations were dimmed, a darkness taking over a suffocating light.
He 'perceived' swirls of purple strings emanating from Goodnight and enveloping the form of the teenage girl, the daughter of the Principal. Once more, that made no sense. He had to make sure the Doctor was safe. He trusted iSaint, surprisingly, but with this mind altering state affecting maybe everyone, he couldn't depend on one of them.
Serenity. He had to remain serene. He concentrated on is other senses. With enough focus he could make sense of what his companion were saying. Though most were talking Magic gibberish. He was 'feeling' things here. So if he trusted his feelings it seemed there was another way. A way that would take them out of the path of the Roman army... What The F***!
He moved toward ISaint and the Doc. All I hear is "Let's Avoid" so catacomb it is, I have no intention on staying in this Damned place any longer.