[Open] Gold Lion's Gonna Tell Me Where The Light Is

[catinthemask]

Who: Zacharie and You!
Where: Around Neverland
When: Throughout the event
Rating: PG13, warnings for hallucinations and references to violence. Will add more as needed.
Summary: Zacharie is a Lost One with a preference of never fighting back. Guess selling things that ended up killing the people he loved backfired, hun?
The Story: 

Lost One's Camp; Morning

[The mornings were the time Zacharie usually spent asleep. He was always out at night and once tried to stay awake as long as he could but learned the hard way that was impossible. So he slept in the mornings. Zacharie can handle the dreams then, even if he did accidentally kick at those unfortunate to try and wake him up. The sixteen year old appreciates it, he does, but sometimes the nature of his dreams and the need to go go go you need to be here now because He's there gets to him. The panic sometimes is overwhelming. Zacharie will apologize however once he's been made aware of the situation.

But once he's awake, Zacharie takes to the trees and climbs as high as he can go. In some cases it's because he just simply likes the view. Skull Rock had an amazing one but after a near crash trying to get that place he's been avoiding it for the time being. But the more likely reason Zacharie is up in the trees is because someone asked him for something. Could be food, could be something else. It could even be to help them up the tree. Regardless, Zacharie will try what he's been asked.

Seems old habits died hard.]


Anywhere; Night

[Even with the adults wandering around the island ready to snatch any of them and put them back in their assigned roles, Zacharie still went out. He's tried to throw his regrets away over the years spent here but they always came back like a bad penny. Instead the sixteen year old just wanders over Neverland in the dark, unarmed, in the vain hopes of coming across an old friend.

But you can't choose your hallucinations. Instead Zacharie hears voices, voices questioning choices and accountability and he knows! He knows. Taking a deep breath Zacharie darts past trees, possibly past people until he has to stop once he runs out of breath. He has to sit down, press his hands over his ears and hide behind the comfort of the cat mask because the toad was buried somewhere else and he wouldn't put that back on if you paid him.

All because of a man with a bloody baseball bat that flickers in and out of sight. Just one thing but Zacharie was desperate to not acknowledge it. Instead he just talks to himself, just like she did.]

I am fine. I am safe. There is color here. I am safe.

[In the midst of his rambling it is very easy to catch Zacharie off guard. It won't take much effort, after all, to catch a merch....a child.]


Wildcard

[Do you have another idea? Go for it!]

Comments

night

[postictal]

[A kid like him shouldn't be running. It's bad for his lungs, which already have to work double-time to make up for the fact that they were born weaker than most. His heart thunders so hard it makes his chest hurt sometimes, and it provokes the creeping, insidious panic that clenches so tightly that it makes everything else hurt too. But he's been seeing things again, he's always seeing things, and this time they're shuttering through his head so rapidly it's making him sick and dizzy.

So he runs. He runs to get away. And he nearly slams into someone with how desperate he is to get free from it. Nearly crashes right into him, but instead ends up tripping, skidding across the ground, skinning his palms as he flings out his hands to prevent himself from toppling face-first into the ground.]

[catinthemask]

[The sound of running Zacharie almost doesn't register. They were always running and panicking and "Don't you know what it means for a ǵ̷̸̡͝á̴̛m҉̶̶̷̢e͘ to have you in it?"

He's hearing himself, there. But someone nearly smacking into him and falling into the ground brings Zacharie out of it for the moment even if the sound of a body impacting on a flat surface is much louder than he'd like. It gets him to turn and see and it's Tim. One of the sicker kids here. And he was...running. Was it like Zacharie because the sixteen year old can't hear more footsteps.

Well either way, he goes to the other kid's side, kneeling down to try to see what's wrong. Even if it's something that's not there.]

Tim? What's wrong, dear friend?

[postictal]

[He jerks to his feet clumsily, skittering backwards as phosphenes erupt over his vision with a distressing flare-and-spiral, mimicking white blank faces and white blank scrubs and everything that hurts to look at.

When his sight clears, he's looking at - the mask. The mask guy. He can barely remember, names having such difficulty clawing their way into his head. He's nearly twice Tim's age, he remembers that much, taller and lankier and older and a little bit scary because he might as well be on a whole other level.]

N-nothing, [Tim says, entirely unconvincingly, his eyes still wild and darting frantically to peer at something just over the older boy's shoulder. It's there. It's there.]

[catinthemask]

[He's fine with 'the mask guy'. Sometimes it's better than 'Zacharie' because it calls back to a man asking "Who are you?" in a way that wasn't really a question. None of his questions were really questions.

Shaking his head, Zacharie rises to his feet. He can see where Tim is looking and the shaky voice suggesting he was lying. He tries to stand taller than whatever it was even though it was likely hopeless because he was short to begin with.]

Nothing is an acceptable answer in this darkness. Are you hurt? It was quite a fall.

[postictal]

No.

[That's a lie. He folds his arms around his chest, furtively, hiding the reddened streaks of abraded skin on the undersides of his arms and hands. It doesn't matter, anyway. Sometimes he needs this. Needs it to ground himself.]

Why're you out here? [he asks suddenly, with such a fierce abruptness it startles even Tim, who takes a step back at the alacrity of the question.]

[catinthemask]

[It is rather abrupt for Tim but Zacharie decides to let it go. If there's one thing that was hammered into him in his childhood was that there are no consequences. So lies don't matter. Instead he just tilts his head.]

Ahaha. I was looking for a friend. But this place will not give her to me again.

[It's probably obvious by the defeat in his voice that she's not on the island.]

[postictal]

[A friend. A real friend, he'd imagine. Friends that don't really exist can pop up anytime you like. He can see his right now, hovering in his periphery. He tries not to look at it. Always too shifty-eyed, that Tim.]

She didn't come with the others? All the...the adult people?

[catinthemask]

No. She can't. I had four friends, but they're all gone.

[He'd say it was indirectly his fault but Zacharie knows it's pointless to play the blame game even if he'll never make his peace with it. It's just a...it just is.]

What about you Tim? Why are you out and about?

[postictal]

[At least he had any friends at all. Non-imaginary ones. That sounds like more of a life than Tim's ever had, ever will have. He's at the bottom of the pile in terms of hierarchy, and that's just how it is with him.]

I thought I -

[He blinks, trying desperately to engage in a neutral expression and failing miserably.]

Thought I heard something.

[catinthemask]

[Exactly.

He watches Tim attempt a neutral expression and idly wonders if he should make the other child a mask. It saves people a whole lot of trouble.]

If it was an adult, then I suggest we leave. Otherwise I apologize if it was me you heard and possibly startled you.

[Because it can't be anything else, right?]

[postictal]

I...don't know what it was.

[Another lie. He knows exactly what it was. But it just means he's going off on his strange tangents again. His mind playing cruel tricks, making him see things that aren't there. But he can't admit it. Can't admit weakness. Not for a second.]

M-maybe we should go, though. Just in case?

[catinthemask]

[Zacharie was no stranger to strange tangents (HA!) so he's not bothered.]

Yes. Perhaps it is best to let go of these sights for now. As I know, we cannot stay up forever.

[Despite his running around Zacharie had an idea of where they were. He'll pick a direction and start to walk, keeping it slow so Tim can keep up.]

[postictal]

Wanna bet?

[His hands curl more securely around himself from where they're braced, wrapped around his middle as if that might be enough to hold him together.

He follows without question. Zacharie might be intimidating and older, but he hasn't led Tim astray. Yet.]

I don't sleep. Not enough for it to matter.

[catinthemask]

[The child was awfully good at guiding others. He can't not do it.]

Ahah, then you have my science experiment beat. Perhaps I should have put in more effort. Do you mind teaching me? My own dreams seem to have no desire to negotiate with me on giving peaceful rest.

[It's a particularly odd question but Zacharie's trying to be distracting. He can see ahead of the pair white, round eyes and too many teeth, even if that's only in his own head.]

[postictal]

[Is he...jealous of him? Jealous of how little he can sleep? Maybe he's just talking to keep Tim talking, a tactic Tim's well-acquainted with.]

Mine neither.

[No point in sleeping when you only see white faces, things peering overhead, watching, watching, watching, every time you close your eyes.

He shrugs, limply.]

Just - I just don't sleep. Dreams'll keep you up anyway.

[catinthemask]

[Perhaps, if honesty was required, he was a little bit. To stay awake and avoid those dreams. But he can't forget, can he?]

You have a point. Ah ah ah, maybe I just need a hobby while I remain awake.

[Likely can't use any of those burnt marshmallows on the ground. Cannibalism and all.]

What do you do, amigo? I rarely see you out here at night.

[postictal]

I...

[Another frown ripples over his features, darkening them. His shoulders curl up, as if forgetting to drop them after he shrugged, an insecure hunch of muscle.]

'M not usually around. Where people see.

[He doesn't make a habit of it. This is the first he's been around other people, other kids, in a while. Mostly 'cause he's too scared to get caught on his own, outside the encampments.]

[catinthemask]

It is better to be alone, I find. Although perhaps in this situation we must push aside our sense of isolation.

[The adults invading the island had brought out even the most hidden child in an effort to kick them out. It was amazing in a way.

Zacharie walks through the grass and ignores the bodies with caved in skulls all over the ground. It was better to ignore it all. They're nearly there, he can see the camp from here.]

Are you safe where you are normally?

[postictal]

[Tim almost doesn't notice the bodies scattered around. He's used to grisly sights such as those, and it doesn't matter anyway. They're dead. Can't come back from that.

His hands have wrapped around himself, the only gesture for self-comfort he knows, shoulders hunching protectively.]

Yeah, [he says, mumbling the word without looking up at the older boy. It's an obvious lie.] I'm fine. Everything's fine.

[catinthemask]

[There is that. Ignore the lingering thought that they'll all come back though. Ignore being afraid to turn your back on the body. Ignore the burnt smell. Just sigh and nod.]

I guess it's better like that.

[The pair arrive in the camp, everyone else either asleep or off in their own worlds. Zacharie pauses for a moment, almost overcome by the idea to head back out again. He may. Later. For now he finds a spot to just sit down and collect his thoughts. Tim is free to join him for this, if he wants.]

[postictal]

Y-yeah.

[Tim finds himself nodding, unconsciously. It is better like that. Better to just...just leave well enough alone, right? Leave it where it is, don't touch anything, and accept what comes. Lie down and take it, and if you brace yourself enough, it won't hurt as much.

Not very sturdy, is he?

Oh well.

He drops down beside Zacharie unconsciously, trembling slightly from the strain of how he's been bolting all over the island, panicking intermittently and seeing things at every turn.

It occurs to him with a start that he's probably imposing. He should...go, shouldn't he?]

S-sorry. I can, I'll leave -

[catinthemask]

[Perhaps being able to take it, depending on context, was a strength all on its own. But he digresses. Instead he just looks up at Tim.]

Ah ah ah. You are free to stay amigo, I do not mind. Do what you feel comfortable in doing.

[Usually he's alone after having one of those adventures, and it did feel nice to have company this time. Still, Zacharie wasn't one to force people to do things. It's all up to his friend here.]

[postictal]

Are...I mean, I can go. You don't have to be - have to pretend you...

[He trails off, fingers of one hand rubbing intermittently over the knuckles of the other. It hasn't occurred to him that...someone would want him around. For any reason.]

Don't have to pretend to want me here.

[catinthemask]

[Zacharie shakes his head, laughing quietly.]

As I said it is fine. I may leave soon, but if I did not wish to be with you then I would not be here.

[Because this time he's free. Helping Tim here was his choice and leaving would be the same. But he likes the kid. So it's fine.]

[postictal]

[The words may as well be foreign to him. Tim stares for a moment, uncomprehending. It is fine, he says. Like it's okay.]

No one...no one says that. [There's an accusatory note to his tone as he says it. No one says that, so what's he playing at?]