ROLEPLAY HQ - in-the-underground

It was a wordless song of wordless promises, high and untethered-- a manifested thing. A snake, the melody slithered from a seemingly bottomless hole, dancing to itself between dead trees and browning grass. Like the curls of sweetened cigar smoke, it drifted and furled through the moonless night. It rose until it broke through leafless branches, bursting into the air and escaping in a lonely symphony. Beckoning. Come to me, it said. Follow me, it said. Down, down, down, it said. Into the Underground. I have things to do, it said. You’ll have much to see, it said. Down, down, down into the Underground. In the wake of the song, the owls fell silent, the crickets stopped calling, and all went quiet with unease. They didn’t want to heed the music’s request, but the music didn’t want them anyway. No, it needed something more. Something meatier. So it continued its journey to where the trees were less thick, and the grass gave way to damp asphalt. Structures of steel and glass became a golden beacon in the otherwise dark sky, and the song continued on. It was too loud here. No one would hear it. No one would come. So the song glided past yellow automobiles with yelling meats inside. It ruffled through the hair of sleeping children until they cried and turned the dreams of content mothers into fearful nightmares, amusing itself. It raised the ire of violent men and laughed at the chaos that fell like dominoes. Down, down, down, it said. Its cry became louder as the city was left behind, no longer diluted. Into the Underground, it said. It stopped by a house-- an unassuming house with only one meat inside, and it was happy. It was insistent. It slid through the crack of an open window, creaking across aged floorboards. It passed pictures of faces with gleaming teeth and bright eyes, passed the slowly decaying remnants of a pizza long devoured. It curled around discarded shoes-- a cat on the prowl-- and rustled the edges of a rain coat as it waved through the banister by the stairs. It seeped under the crack of the door, wispy, muffled so as to stir but not wake. It tucked beneath a wrinkled quilt, winding around splayed legs and across a broad, breathing chest. And it settled against an ear, hidden by mussed honey hair. Come with me, it said-- no demanded. Come with me into the Underground.

14:53

@$PlayBoy$

Dean Adams was no stranger to nightmares and night terrors, the latter being the worst of the two. Dean struggled with such hellish nightmares as a child on through his teenage years but when he was 21 they ceased to exist, the man never once used any type of medication for his troubles with sleep but anxiety was a different story. He took 2 different types of medication for that issue but only just that one of many. Dean’s life was simple, nothing extravagant or fancy. He made his living as a tattoo artist, as he has many himself it was perfect but yet his life was far from full. He felt the pain each day he woke to breathe for another day, he’d attempted the coward’s way out 8 times in his life but it would never take. And certainly no woman would find him enticing. Tonight was an ordinary night, Dean finished work a little early and stopped to get a pizza as he didn’t feel like cooking tonight. Dean ate first as he watched some type of murder mystery case, once he finished eating he’d get in the shower and not long after he’d be in bed. Sleep still hadn’t come easily to him, it felt like it took him half the night just to fall asleep. Tonight however… tonight was different, Dean almost felt like as he laid there he wasn’t alone like something else was in his bedroom with him. He took uneasy breaths for what felt like hours before sleep had finally swallowed him, perhaps an hour or 2 later Dean would come to hear this song being sung by a beautiful voice. He carried and soothed it seemed. Then Dean felt something around his chest but didn’t move, he felt like he was breathing a little faster now. Suddenly Dean’s blood felt like it ran cold, the command was so vivid, so clear. To even think of denying it… an impossible task. Dean slowly leaned up and swung his legs over his bed, he slept in just his boxers but he’d leave his room swiftly. As a child and a teenager Dean was also known to sleepwalk so it wasn’t something unusual for him if he ended up waking up

13:49

somewhere he didn’t remember. Dean walked through his apartment still asleep yet his eyes open, it was like he was conscious but not at the same time. He left his apartment not having to worry about stairs because he lived on the bottom floor of the 5-story building, he walked the cold nearly empty streets following the little melody singing voice. Soon he came to a large forest area, not many came here as the trails were now covered by leafs and vegetation. The man came to a small hill, a large tree laid atop it. Dean climbed the little hill soon finding the large hole, the voice was indeed coming from here. Dean planned to go down safely but something tripped him, nipped at his ankle or something he felt it. Dean would fall head first down this little mysterious rabbit hole.

Robuster was an ugly rabbit-- though, the potential for something beautiful had been there. He fell victim to the soul corrupting insides of the Underground and, like those many before him, that rot permeated his outsides like an apple left too long on the ground at the height of summer. His fur, once white, was marred a horrendous ashen gray underneath a waistcoat covered in dark, suspicious stains. His skin hung off his bones as though someone had sucked his meat clean from his body leaving only the baggy cover. His eyes, though pink, were filmy and nearly unseeing and his ears dropped around his head like flaxen hair. And Robuster stank. He stank of mildew and fish and all things dead. As the rabbit waited below the hole that led to the Upside, he ignored the wordless song that blasted from deep behind him. He'd heard it before. Hated it before. Loved it before. It was not his to listen to anymore. No, he was the ferry, the guide, the bringer. He led the catch through the carnivorous gardens and across the acidic sea. He brought them past Mercury Lane and Mushroom Forest, all in a wild, heart grating chase that would only end ever in that one way. He was not there to listen, but to wait. So, Robuster waited and, when he heard the tell tale thud of a body hitting the ground hard, he pulled out the pocket watch from his waistcoat and tisked as it ticked- backwards and nonsensical. The tarnished copper, oxidized green in many places, was warped from its old circular shape. Instead, it resembled a melted clock from a painting he saw once long ago- sad and drooping. "He's late," he grumbled, his voice harsh like he partook in Hookah with The Caterpillar daily though he never touched the stuff. It was low and gravelly, so unusual coming from a rabbit even as ugly as he. Robuster stepped cautiously into the light that bled through the opening so high up and approached the crumpled form. Half dressed-- or not even dressed at all? The audacity. To expect to meet royalty in only your underthings? These ungrateful and unseemly brats only seemed to get worse over time, he could admit, but there wasn't much he could do or say to the young man. His fall had been nasty (what pleasure) and his impact had been unforgiving (what joy). Robuster lamented that the man had not snapped his neck. At least then all the rabbit would have to do was drag the body to the flowers and usher the soul into one of the many empty husks that guarded the castle walls. Alas, the rise and fall of the human's chest dashed the promise of easy work and, again, Robuster waited. He waited until heavy lids creaked open over dazed eyes. Then, with a malicious grin that showed russet teeth, he whispered: "You're late." Then he dashed back into the shadows with rapid hops, down a hallway that twisted round and around until the black and white tiles on the floor found themselves on the ceiling. @$PlayBoy$ (edited)

Dean landed in a very normal way and he too was surprised he was still alive to be able to tell the tale some day, however he wasn’t Superman his fall still hurt and his head took a good knock. Dean felt a little dizzy even though he remained laying there for what seemed awhile, he wasn’t moving at all so he was confused as to where this was stemming from. Suddenly when the hare was near by Dean could smell the pungent stench, it smelled like decay and death. Dean laid up slowly pinching his nose and covering his mouth, for a moment the pain was gone and Dean felt as though he’d throw up. He didn’t thankfully but he felt very close to it, the man would then feel eyes on him. Dean turned quickly to see a rabbit in a waistcoat but he looked old and sick, the stench increased now and Dean was staring at the source. The rabbit spoke and Dean couldn’t believe his eyes. Did that rabbit just speak? He thought but then the answer seemed simple from there. I’m dreaming, this is just a dream. Dean would go along with this silly little rabbit and his funny game but his words… they didn’t make sense to Dean so he responded appropriately. “Late? Late for what?” Dean asked with much confusion but just as he asked the question the rabbit in the waistcoat was now gone, hopping off down the hallway. “Hey! Hey wait!” Dean yelled. Now his head was really starting to hurt, the man grunted as he stood and slowly followed the rabbit even though he was already so far. Dean noticed this weird little hole and all that was inside. “What a curious place…” He said to himself as he followed the twisting and Winding of the hallway.