ROLEPLAY HQ - the-underground-derogatory

TW: Violence, gore, graphic content, sexual scenes and rape implications

16:55

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 onyx hair. Come with me, it said-- no demanded. Come with me into the Underground.

16:55

@💙ShayBae💙

Outside the Coleson household it looked like any other night on Oak Street. There were no lights on, there were no odd noises and the couple’s cars remained out front like they had fir the last two days. The only thing amiss from the perfect couples home was on the inside—where they were nowhere to be seen and a half naked man was asleep in their bed. Alaric Jones was what out-of-towners would call a ‘drifter’ and what the police would call ‘wanted’. He had a rap sheet a mile long and that was only for the crimes they had evidence for. Unfortunately for the Coleson’s, they were threatening to add another charge to that ever-growing list. That sultry song from the Underground sifted past all of the Coleson’s belongings before settling against Alaric’s ears as he slept peacefully on Mr. Coleson’s side. Rousing him from his sleep, he begrudgingly sat up, tossed his legs off the side of the bed and ran his hands through his thick black hair in a daze. Bright crystal eyes looked around to see nothing had been disturbed aside from his own disruptions of the home.

17:22

. The bedroom was a mess with dirty clothes and empty takeout boxes, a clear sign he had spent a lot of time in that room, which made it difficult to navigate when he came to stand from a dead sleep. He made his way to the work desk across the room as the tune continued to call to him. He checked the computer that sat there, but he didn’t see any lights on and the song sounded like it was coming from outside. As alluring as it was, he decided he should investigate it regardless of its eeriness. He had already spent too much time in one place and that was never good for him. Opening the Coleson closet, he rummaged through the man of the houses belongings before he found a pair of jeans to cover the underwear he had stolen from the man’s dresser and a navy-colored, long sleeve shirt that fit perfectly. He donned a pair of socks and boots that looked ideal for walking and made sure he wasn’t forgetting anything in his makeshift room. The draw of the song was so loud in his mind that as he left the bedroom, he didn’t even catch the faint sound of the blood dripping from the attic door onto the hardwood floor. As he made his way down the stairs and towards the front door, he snagged a leather jacket from the coat rack. Mr. Coleson wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

17:22

. He shut the door behind him and as he followed the sidewalk down the dark street, he shoved his hands in his pockets and decided to walk along the side of the road that had the fewest street lights. He wouldn’t feel comfortable until he was well out of town and heading towards the treeline that separated Briarvale from the woods. He could hear the song getting louder and just as he pierced the first row of trees, he saw it. A hole that sat at the base of a large oak street where the beautiful song seemed to be filtering from. It was with a raised eyebrow that he cautiously made his way towards it, trying to peer down through its black depths before he took a look around him. With not a living thing in sight, he lowered himself to his knees and placed his hands along the edge to try and see further in, but before he could get a good look the dirt would break under his grasp and send him spiraling into a tunnel much larger than what it seemed. He would let out a deep yell as he fell down what seemed like an endless tunnel, one where he could fully extend his limbs and still not touch any walls. He couldn’t see where he was going and he could barely see where he came from before he hit something that felt like a bed only to be tossed off of it and continue falling. His yelling stopped then as he tried to figure out what had just happened to him in the darkened hellhole. He was falling down, but the small light of the night sky that he had seen above was now coming closer and closer to him from below. When he turned to look above him, it was pitch black as if he had fallen from absolutely nothing at all. Was he… falling back into Brairvale? Confusion was his main emotion until that small dot of light came careening into view and his fall suddenly ceased. @Lizbet

His outfit

SPOILER

Life as a sedentary flower could be cumbersome in its boredom. Wiggle your roots in the ground, soak up sunlight, grow your garden, and disintegrate animals up to four times your size in the vat of acid that lined your stem after swallowing them whole. Rinse. Repeat. Of course, that had been Mother Rose’s intention when she allowed her delicate seeds to take flight on gusty wind and settle miles away from her heaving bosom (and protection) rather than fall placidly at her feet to continue building the Flower Forest. Mother Rose had plans, and her sapling spawn knew it. They were the first step in spreading the carnivorous petal army across the vast lands of Underground. They were the first generation in millennia (since before the Great Mother Rose) to experience Exodus, and that alone was worth any amount of trifle boredom. How could one be unhappy when they were the birth of a new reign? The princesses of an unfounded kingdom?! The sole hope for flower-kind everywhe- Grelhem Rabbit tisked derisively when the human male landed none-too-gently on the barely blooming cluster of carnivorous fauna, crushing the petals under his immense weight. Had they been given a few more months to grow, they would have swallowed the weak man whole, digesting his skins in a matter of minutes. Grelhem supposed, in a distant sort of way, that he could have warned Mother Rose not to send her scouts so close to the entryway. If his spies had not told him of her intended insurrection, he would have. As it were, the human had struck down a rebellion and delivered himself safely into the Underground in one fell swoop. Her Majesty would be pleased, no doubt. Imagine his reward when, upon his very first delivery, he also gave news of a quelled uprising. He was nothing if not sensible and knew perfectly well how to aid his overall standing in court pragmatically. This pragmatism had Grelhem waiting for the human man to make the first move. Grelhem was unaware of how the creature woul

18:28

d react to his newfound surroundings, and the rabbit very much doubted his less-than-human-friendly appearance would aid in the transition. Grelhem was not like the Upperland rabbits- weak and vile creatures that shat and pissed wherever they pleased. No sense of propriety, those incorrigible beasts. Cheshire had told him (far too gleefully, in his opinion) that they often engaged in coitus with their own litter. Grelhem shuddered, his leather-like fur quivering with this involuntary movement around brittle bones that jutted and peeked between peeling skin. He imagined himself a dapper hare, sharply dressed as he was in his favorite faded waistcoat and rust-stained cravat. He knew, too, that his ears were perfectly combed even as one hung limply from stringy sinew that remained barely attached to his fissured cranium. Beady pink eyes cloudy with layers of dusty cataracts (his best feature, if he did say so himself) trailed distastefully over the man sprawled over the carcasses of a hundred freshly pulverized flowers, and he could not help but take note of the dreary way the male had dressed. It certainly was not an ensemble fit to parade in front of a queen, and, at that moment, Grelhem decided he was not too wary of the fly the queen had snared. With a humorless snort, the ragged rabbit eased from the darkness surrounding the entryway and into the circular light pressed softly across the meadow. “Stupid human,” grumbled Grelhem, his voice rough like sandpaper raking against the bowels of a deadened tree-- the voice of a crotchety old man two packs into his three packs a day. The hare rustled through the tall, brown grass brushing the underside of his sagging jowls, and clicked his tongue in annoyance until he was sure the human would hear him. Upon gaining his attention, he wrinkled his ravaged pink nose. “You’re late.”

@💙ShayBae💙

The endless fall to the sudden stop had Alaric groaning in surprisingly mild pain. He laid splayed on the ground in what looked like a field that was in desperate need of a trim, one that his body neatly provided in at least one area. His eyes were closed as he whined and moaned, lifting his arms and legs to make sure nothing was broken. It was then that he heard the gravel sound of a voice nearby and an insult at that. ‘Stupid human,’ He slowly turned his head to see a rabbit emerge into the light that looked like he had been tossed into a wood chipper one too many times. His dark brows furrowed at the creature as he limply laid his head back onto the crushed grass with a huff, closing his eyes again. Maybe he was right, he did fall in a giant hole in the ground after walking a mile to get to it all because he heard a song tell him to. With eyes still closed he curled his lips down into a frown and raised his brows as if to shrug and accept the rabbit’s insult. ‘You’re late.’ It was after a deep breath that the man replied, not having to think about his riposte for too long. “Yeah, well. You seem to be past your expiration date too, Thumper.”

19:14

. Crinkling his face and straining his muscles, he pushed himself up into a seated position to look around at the place he found himself in. It looked to be a wilting meadow with small pops of color that occasionally dotted the grass. Turning to look underneath him he noticed he had landed on a patch of flowers that more than certainly padded his landing if even a minuscule amount. What luck! He nodded pleasantly at them with that same shrug of a facial expression before he turned to the rabbit again. He squinted his way as if to get a better look at him, letting his eyes fall over the missing patches of fur, the exposed meat and woefully undead look the creature wore. It perplexed him more than it scared him. “Sooo…” He rested one elbow on his bent knee while the other hand waved in front of the rabbit as if to ask about his attire, but he quickly waved both hands at the creature dismissively. Alaric slowly came to stand as he brushed off the petals, grass and dirt that stuck to his clothes from the fall before he looked back up at where he came from to see nothing but sky. @Lizbet

One retained a certain dignity- an absolute surety in one’s well-brededness- that often bled over in atmosphere and aura. It wasn’t beyond the realm of reason that humans could, in rare instances, obtain this highly coveted assuredness that Grelhem knew (as it was best for a rabbit in his station to know) he possessed. This human decidedly did not possess an aura of sophistication and therefore was akin to something like ick on the bottom of a brand new shoe. Naturally, when one is insulted by ick on the bottom of a brand new shoe, their first instinct is to wipe it on the grass and hope they didn’t trail the smell into the house. Grelhem wasn’t sure what a “Thumper” was and nor was he aware of the exact nature of an “expiration date,” but he was sure that he had been denigrated and had to quell the rising ire that chomped for bloody retribution. This practice in self-control was aided most magnanimously by the human’s unusual reaction to falling several thousand feet through the Earth’s crust and into a parallel, albeit entirely opposite, dimension. Grelhem was not a magicked being and therefore, he could not accurately explain how such a dual existence was possible, but he had been thoroughly educated on how to entice hysterical prey deeper into the Underground. He had not, however, been prepared for a more cool disposition to what had to be an unusual situation. In fact, Hatter, upon explaining to Grelhem the intricacies of leading sources through the Underground, had insisted that they would be so shaken by their experience that escorting them would be akin to convincing the Tweedle Twins that one was indeed the other and the other was one. They were not very bright despite the thirty-three brains between them. And Grelhem was not keen on dismissal-- certainly not by a gangly beast that, no doubt, would find himself out-tricked by the very numbskull-ed twins that had to be warned not to eat themselves into nothing on an hourly basis. With this

15:43

thought, the rabbit pulled sharply on the edge of his waistcoat, careful not to stretch the questionable stain accrued by a well-earned game of pin the tail on the centi-crocodile, and retrieved the pocket watch from his front pocket. It had never quite worked right after Doormouse drowned it in spirits after insisting it was sad and needed to “heal the hurts on the inside,” but Grelhem had learned to time its drunken burps with the strike of the hour after it refused for the seventh time to enroll in Underling Alcohols' Anonymous. As it was, the steady hiccups informed him they were behind schedule. “Come, human,” Grelhem groused, his good ear twitching with the flex of exposed muscle, and turned on a heel that crunched ominously from deep beneath the skin. “We are late.” Off he took through the high grass, hopping just enough that his lame ear flopped lifelessly into view with each bound, and disappeared behind warped trees. These blackened trucks hid the entrance to a tunnel no bigger than four feet. Once the few initial steps inside the cavern were completed, Grelhem thanked the Queen silently for the slowly disappearing dirt floor. Instead, in its place were tastefully arranged black and white tiles layered in inches of dust and classy embroidered wallpaper peeled loftily in pleasant strips. Yes, he would have to give his compliments to the Six of Clubs for his immaculate interior design. There was something to be said about a club with taste. Most impressive was the way the floor slowly rotated until tile sat happily on the ceiling and one had the great joy of dodging chandeliers. It made for interesting travel.

@💙ShayBae💙

15:47

trunks**

He paid little attention to the rabbit as he checked his pocket watch. Alaric was too busy staring at the vast sky above him that he was sure had a hole in it not two seconds ago. His eyes then went over the meadow once more, trying to figure out what foreign country he found himself in when the gruff voice of the undead creature called him. ‘Come Human.’ Alaric jerked his attention to the creature with a puzzled look in his face before he informed him that they were late. “Wait! Late for what?” He was starting to get annoyed with the place. He had followed a song—probably not his best idea— fell down a hole, been told he was late and then was expected to follow a shambling corpse through bug infested grass? He huffed behind the rabbit, taking a few long strides to catch up to him and began his questions. His voice held no aire of concern or fear, simply annoyance and frustration. “Hey, Skippy! Why don’t you tell me where we are going? Better yet, tell me where the hell I am or how I just fell a thousand feet and didn’t end up looking like you?” Once they cleared the grass and came to where the blackened, warped trees grew, he took a moment to stop and admire them. He looked at the tunnel the rabbit hopped into, but turned to the side of it to run his hand along the charred limbs of the scraggly tree. The residue left on his fingers looked like that of charcoal and as he rubbed his fingers together, his eyes went back to the branch with a curious look. If anything, he could use it to skewer the rabbit with later if he continued ti refuse to answer his questions. Snapping the limb off, he held it out in front of him. It was equivalent in size to a short sword in his hand and with a pleased smile, he turned to follow the rabbit into the tunnel.

16:44

. He had to crouch rather aggressively to fit through the four foot space. Being 6’3” was fine until he had to get closer to the ground. Luckily, the dirt quickly turned to tile and once he was able to stand, he hollered at rabbit who stood a few feet away from him. The hare was staring at him as if he was annoyed that he wasn’t hot on his heels and if that was the case, he was about to be far more disappointed. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but you—“ He pointed his stick at him as he finished. “better start giving me some answers. Or else, I’m staying right here and we can be later.” Alaric was not a man of negotiations. There didn’t seem to be any police in the land he now resided in and if that was the case, then he truly had nothing to fear. His hot gaze stayed steady on the disfigured creature, waiting to see if he answered him or turned tail and hopped away. @Lizbet

Grelhem had been more than happy to ignore the human’s asinine questions. After all, it was pointless for him to ask. He was not to query on quandaries that he truly had no business knowing but was only to follow. The man was behaving at least moderately the way he was meant. Hatter did say that humans were full of questions about this or that and often used them to wheedle for their new whereabouts. He also said it was best to let them tire themselves out and that they would take the journey after their guide regardless. In this, he had been correct. The man followed as expected despite the lack of hysterics and (remorsefully) the lack of bodily harm. That the human had found himself a soft bed of petals to crush was entirely by happenstance. Caterpillar had told many a story of humans who snapped an occasional limb (making them nearly impossible to stomach being around as they whined far too much for something as small as a broken tibia) or, in more instances than was probably helpful, landed on their heads. This tended to result in, at best, a paralyzed prey or, at worst, a dead one. Grelhem was glad he didn’t have to drag a carcass to the flesh-eating Rose forest. They always tried to take a nibble out of him-- even if it was decreed by Underground Law to be cannibalism. But he digressed. Indeed, Grelhem was happy to ignore the human. Of course, that was until an audible snap echoed down the softly lit tunnel. He came to a jerking stop, his eyes closing as if he were fighting to keep his composure, and turned slowly toward the human. He was now brandishing a blackened branch, demanding answers, but the rabbit disregarded this. Instead, he stared dully at the stick, his little nose twitching in agitation. “Human,” he said, his voice ripping through him as if he suffered terribly from a sore throat. “Tell me you did not… take that from the tree folk.” Grelhem knew the answer and suppressed a bone-deep grumble. They would be later. Much, much lat

15:05

er. “Ooooowwww,” came a syrupy slow, and yet booming voice from the entrance of the tunnel. “I… have… been… accossssted.” With a spiteful curse, Grelhem hopped past Alaric and back toward the trees, muttering all the while. “Waking the tree folk,” he snarled. “Hours. It’ll be hours now.” Tree folk were known for their large naps- sometimes spanning over a period of years- and their even larger bouts of time expelling a single sentence, which was truly a shame because they found great joy in socializing. If an Underling found himself in deep conversation with a tree folk, they were often not seen home for days. Indeed, if someone were to go missing, the first place that was to be checked was the entrance to the Upperland where the tree folk often resided. In their time, before Underland was Underland, they quite enjoyed snagging humans, who had fallen quite by accident, to chat with. It took a moment for Grelhem to place the assaulted tree as tree folk looked like, well, trees. Large, mossy trees with eyes hidden in the depths of bark. Of course, that was the only way to differentiate trees from tree folk-- their eyes. But they took such a long time blinking that waiting for one to open their eyes was at least a three-minute affair. Grelhem only took as fast as he did hone in because the tree folk that found himself one limb less opened his mouth very slowly in offense. “Mmmmmaaiiiimmed,” he cried. “Mmmuuuuutillllateeed.” “Now, see here, Tree-gone dear friend,” Grelhem began, approaching the tree with hurried hops. “It was not intentional.” There was a lengthy pause, so lengthy that Grelhem thought the tree folk had fallen asleep for a moment. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so. “Grrrreeeeeelllhhhhhheeeemmmmm?” demanded Tree-gone. “Yoooooouuuuu… have… mmmmaaaaaiiimmmed… … me?” @💙ShayBae💙

Alaric stared at the rabbit as if he was speaking a foreign language when he asked about him taking something. Tree-folk?! He had no idea what the critter was referring to until his bright eyes ventured to the limb in his hand. The other slowly slipped into his pocket while he shrugged a little with the stick. “No.” His voice was nonchalant and completely devoid of the fact that he was in fact holding a branch in his hand. Before anything else could be said, a long howl echoed into the hallway from whence they had just came. The voice was spoken rather slowly for the urgent words that were being used. Alaric watched then as the rabbit hopped past him to go back to the entrance of the tunnel, cursing him along the way. He crossed his arms as he stared after him, refusing at first to crouch down and waddle through there again, but he did eventually follow with a grumble of his own when he heard the voice again. When he emerged from the tunnel, he came out just in time to see the rabbit sitting in front of a tree that was asking him if he was the one who maimed him. A delighted smirk came across Alarics features as he witnessed the tree open his mouth and even blink. His eyes were filled with wonder as he stared up at the wicked looking tree with the limb still in his hand. “Gr—Grelhem? Grelhem the Rabbit? Oof. Now I know why you’re so testy.” He mumbled before speaking to the tree directly. “Yes, my friend! Grelhem was the one who maimed you… Indirectly… Inadvertently…” He watched as the tree’s eyes actually seemed to move and when it’s mouth opened again, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He looked like a kid in a candy store as he stood there with his arms crossed, tightly gripping the trees limb in his black-stained hand. @Lizbet

Grelhem was taken aback, entirely offended by Alaric's obvious lie. The nerve! The audacity! The rabbit whipped his head toward Alaric, glaring venomously at the man to demand his silence. After a particularly sharp look, Grelhem turned his gaze back toward the Tree-gone, who was still in the process of stretching his mossy lips open. It was a fair few moments of awkward silence before the tree folk managed to speak. "I... thought... we... were... friendsss," he warbled, his voice wobbling with slow emotion. The human had hurt his feelings and Grelhem detested it for him. That was until cold panic seized his chest. Large, sticky droplets of tree sap seeped from the corner of the tree folk's eyes and, as sophisticated as Grelhem was, he could not handle a crying tree. "I... held-" Here, Tree-gone released a long-drawn-out sob that sounded more like he was fighting a robust belch. "-youuu... in... such... high... esteem... My... cloooosseeesst.... companionnnn." Now this was not an overt lie. No doubt, Tree-gone, in this moment, thought Grelhem his closest friend, but tree folk spent so much time talking to others that often they forgot about everyone else. In fact, it would not have been surprising to know that, until Grelhem came into view, Tree-gone could not have recalled who he was. "Do not listen to this wretch, Tree-gone," Grelhem soothed, lifting his tiny little paw and patting Tree-gone's roots in three succinct pats. "He is a human-" this was said with obvious disgust. "- and he was unaware that you were anything but a regular old tree, my friend." Like the swelling of storm clouds, Tree-gone seemed to swell in size. His many other limbs swayed in a non-existent breeze and it was clear that he had taken offense. "A.... Tree?!" he demanded, yellow eyes turning with turtle speed toward Alaric. "A tree?! Those... unintelligent.... waste... of... rooooooots. Impossible... to... have... a... talk... with... those... thingssssss. They... take.

17:18

.. toooo..." There was an extensive pause here, carrying on for several minutes and Grelhem tried desperately not to thump his foot impatiently. "... long." @💙ShayBae💙

The absolute shock that rocked the rabbits features brought a small chuckle to Alaric. Even the wicked look Grelhem tried to give him was probably the most adorable thing he had ever seen. When the tree began to cry, he almost felt bad for the poor compilation of burnt firewood. To hear he had thought so highly of the rabbit did pull a small smirk to his features though, especially when Grelhem spoke of Alaric as if he wasn’t there. He gave the rabbit his own annoyed glare, his brows coming together and his lips coming to purse in the corner of his mouth. What he didn’t expect to see was the tree grow and bellow with rage at the offense of being called a tree. The slow swivel of his bulbous, yellow eyes as he turned to stare at him brought another fond smile to his face. He inspected his eye and saw the wet lines where the sap had rolled out of it, intrigued that THAT was how sap came about. “Okay, I can see I’ve rustled some leaves…” He smirked at the Rabbit and turned to Tree-Gone. “Allow me to clarify.” He started swinging the branch about as if it were a mere drumstick and he a musician, little regard for what would happen if he sudden lost his control on the object. He swung it in small circles at his side at first as he spoke. “Grelhem, refuses to answer my questions. I, have abstained from going any further into this twisted hellscape until I get some and you, my blackened friend, have suffered for it. Maybe if Grelhem would’ve told me about your kind, this could’ve been avoided, however, he has chosen to leave me in the dark. Grelhem, tell the trunk your sorry…” He said the last bit as if he was talking to a child, pointing the stick at the rabbit and motioning towards Tree-Gone. His bottom lip stuck out slightly past his top and his brows furrowed that the rabbit as if he had bad a terrible whoopsie. “Come on, snap to it! We don’t what the poor thing to be waiting on you.”

17:46

. He said as he turned to look at the sky behind them as if it was truly the worst hell in the world to leave the tree waiting… @Lizbet

There was a slow dawning horror on Tree-Gone's face when he finally caught sight of the darkened branch in the human's hand and Grelhem could not blame him. If the rabbit had had a body part removed and the remover had started waving it around in his face, he imagined he'd, too, feel some level alarm. Of course, the effect on Grelhem's psyche was dulled, thank the Queen, by the lack of bodily fluids and gore that more mobile Underling's possessed when being separated from their limbs. It could also have been that Grelhem, like many Underlings, had gathered a fair amount of fire wood in their lives to ward of the Underground's more harrowing winters and had, themselves, yanked a branch or two from a tree. Now, they had avoided taking tree folk branches because having the ability to speak and, subsequently cry out in pain, often dampened the already dreary chore. It was more polite to ask tree folk if one could take a branch, but that usually resulted in drawn out negotiations and those that tried froze to death before they had the branch in their hands. Which, ironically, was a bit frustrating as the tree folks' abysmal memory would have them forgetting they'd lost the branch in the first place after their due naps. Still, Grelhem felt a wave of pity for Tree-Gone as he was currently eying his forgone limb with wounded yellow eyes. It was a sorry sight, the way his delayed movements did not allow for him to keep his gaze on it as the human was waving it about so rapidly and demanding apologies. I beg your pardon?! Grelhem started internally. He apologize?! He apologize?! He had not been the one to, stupidly Grelhem might add, start yanking things off of beings he had no business yanking things from! Had the male just listened to instruction, they would be well within the Underground, most likely taking tea with the hatter that held a fair amount of hallucinogens! However, Grelhem could not say any of this. Instead, he could only gape until his g

17:11

aping turned into sputter and his sputters turned into visible outrage. "Listen to me," he growled, his voice far too deep for a creature of such small stature. "you imbecilic accident of nature! The only one needing to apologize in this meadow is the idiot that started touching things he had no business touching. Now kindly return the branch to Tree-Gone so that we may leave him in peace and escort you out of the Underground and back to the hellish place you fell up from!" Grelhem was not too far gone to let slip the human would not be leaving the Underground at all, but that wasn't to say he didn't want to. There would have been an animalistic pleasure in watching the human's face crumple with realization, but this was his first escort and he had no intention of spoiling it over a particularly infuriating rat.... He silently extended his apologies to rats everywhere and, despite him being a mouse, promised himself he would buy Doormouse a new button for his unvoiced insult. @💙ShayBae💙

Alaric internally counted the things he demanded and the things he received and came up with the wrong side outweighing the other. He tilted his glare down to the rabbit as he chastised him and then told him to return what he had stolen. His icy eyes bore into the rabbits cloudy ones as he uttered one word in a voice that dripped with wicked glee. “Fine.” He turned to face the tree with a look of inspection as he looked the tree up and down from root to branch. Walking around to the side that he had removed the limb from, he put his hand on a much sturdier and longer branch to hold himself still. Angling the broken branch just right, he stuck it back where it belonged—it clearly not wanting to stay— before he used his weight to rip the branch he had been stealing himself on clean off the poor tree-folk. Grunting a bit with the effort it took, he now held a longer and more jagged ‘short sword’ in his hand that he turned front to back in his hand as if appraising it before he looked back to Grelhem. “Alright, then? Let’s be off!” He made his way back to the tunnel, not staying to hear what garbled mess the pile of wood had to groan or the hateful words from the rabbit who was only halfway put together. Crouching and waddling his way through the tunnel, he finally came out in a room that held a long hallway where the floor tiles warped around to become ceiling tiles. He swung his stick around for a moment and started to slowly make his way down the corridor, only going slow to wait for the hoping noises of Grelhem behind him. “You really should start answering my questions, Jack. If we’re leaving, why can’t we go back the way we came? What are we late for? How many more people are you going to let suffer for your secrecy?” He wouldn’t walk too far, not wanting to come across a trap without the rabbit ahead of him to spot it. @Lizbet

Had Grelhem’s future self been able to time travel to the Grelhem of now, he would have whacked him on his already cracked skull and told him, probably hysterically, that this was a red flag- a glaring, waving, in-you-face red flag. The way the human’s eyes flashed with an almost maniacal pleasure had sent a particularly chilly shiver down the length of Grelhem’s crooked spine, but he felt a sense of gratification when, without a fight, the male had marched toward Tree-Gone, branch in hand. It was about time the rodent started following directions! It wouldn’t do for the rabbit to be fight impertinence all the way to the castle. However, that emotional high was short-lived. The desensitization Grelhem had experienced in the face of Tree-Gone’s session of body horror disappeared in an instance. The humane (a silly word as its namesake were savages) part of himself had figured (as any Underling with any sense of morality would) that the man would simply lay the branch at the Tree-folk’s roots, apologize, and then they could be on their way, but this was not the case. Grelhem stared on in frozen shock when, as swift as a striking feather-viper, the human impaled the branch deep into the open wound he had already caused and, in the same moment, relieved Tree-Gone of a heartier branch. There were a few seconds of dreadful silence where Tree-Gone’s features twisted and then- “…OWWWWWWWWWWWWWW,” he wailed, his remaining branches shuddering with the force of his cry. There was another bout of silence before Tree-Gone could continue. “Human… It… does… not… function… that… way… It… cannnn… nnnnot…. Goooooo… back…. In…. Like… that!” It, indeed, could not and the branch in question protruded at an odd angle. Grelhem, still frozen in horror, felt sorry for the innocent tree-folk, who had probably not experienced such cruelty in his entire life and therefore could not recognize the malicious act for what it was. Still, the human did not listen. Far too merry for the situ