Contrary Camaraderie [closed]

Something wet was trickling into his eyes.

He tried opening them, but it was... strangely painful. Something very hot, very sticky, felt as if it were gluing them shut...

After a few more moments, he tried to pry one eye open and hazily took in the sight of a world flipped at ninety degrees, head pounding and throbbing in the avalanche of noises surrounding. Pale limber fingers twitched, meeting gravel on concrete. Rough terrain that was most certainly not the carpet surface he had been lying on previously. He blinked his one open eye several times, trying to make sense of an unfamiliar area filled to the brim with grim and dirt. His brain stuttered once, twice, taking in the sight of a red stain on a metal pipe not far from where he was lying on the side.

More warm, painful stuff kept trickling into his eyes, making the open one sting with the fury of a thousand needles.

Above, electric squeaks sounded muffled, as though they were coming from very far away. But as he forced his gaze to look a little further to the right, he could faintly make out the cream red and blue rabbit-shaped figures standing just to the side of him, looking with... were those tears filled in their beady eyes?

Callum struggled to push himself up, but the pain in his head had gone from dim to unbearable in moments. His heartbeat was doing that familiar slow cadence once more, as though it were before the end of everything. So he allowed the feathery silk lashes to frame and close on lambent jade marbles for eyes in defeat.

People never noticed him, someone who was nothing more than a wandering ghost at most. Not the best place to take a nap, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Five more minutes..."

A whisper, a hush, a voice in the dark. Nobody would hear the sounds of someone who was simply a wandering void at most.

People never noticed him? Well Mason wasn't exactly a person in his mind. He noticed the suffering of others. How despite in an island that seemed to work so well there were still those who suffered because of something. Lack of money, power, illness. There was always something. While the black haired boy wasn't particularly suffering from any of those or lack of those at this moment in time, there was a time he did.

Hands shoved into pockets the boy approached the person laying on the ground. Two worried pokemon by his side. While Mason's own pokemon stood at his side with disinterest. "What are you doing here?" He asked not really interested in making the other move. Just more so interested in what he was doing, and if he wanted it a place to rest that wasn't out in the middle of nowhere nor as uncomfortable than this.

Footsteps echoing against the chambered corridors. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four, five, six steps. Another person nearby with a striking question, not quite of indifference but not quite compassionate. His right eye twitched awkwardly, a long exhale of a sigh, a pull of his body to sit upright, leaning against the nearby wall as Plusle and Minun both gave relieved squeaks.

A weave across his lips into a smirk, and a hand patting against his forehead, the crimson liquid plastering on the surface of a ghost-white palm. "Eh~ Well, guess you didn't fall for that trick. Shame, I was hoping someone wayyy dumber would pass by." Dark-hair, gray-green eyes, built rather firmly. Not the face of your local friendly neighborhood superhero, that's for sure. "But you seem kind of like a muscle-head too, so mission accomplished."