Crimson & Clover (meandthedevil) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2015-08-02 11:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2018 [08] august, clover eulah east, graham frost |
Stop laughing
WHO: Clover and Graham
WHERE: Under the world, under the sky, under my thumb, kiss it goodbye.
WHAT: Graham tries to find Clover- but for friendship or to get "washed"
WHEN: Sunday, Church time, doesn't matter the time of day. It's always dark underground.
From where she was spread on blankets, her red hair was a fountain pouring out from her head onto the pillows where she rested it. She can hear a distant drip of some dark and dank place. It's a rhythm pounding that she recognizes as she fades in and out of consciousness, in and out of color, in and out of falling and landing and falling and landing.
Truthfully, most of the subterranean landscape here is dank. The heat of the day, the coolness of below - it all condenses everywhere and sticks to anything hard. It's slicks on the long, thick walls. Slippery. Dangerous. She's forever wrapped in the cool moist breath of the devil.
What they don't realize above is that this under world, this hellish place is holding the whole city up on its shoulders.
We're holding them UP
Always, keeping the whole city from collapsing into this massive hole.
They're keeping us DOWN
Drip. Drip. Drip-drip. Drop. Drip-drip. Drip. Drip. Drop. Drip-drip. DripDrip. Drip. Drip-drop. Drip. Drip-drip. Drip
HOW the thought sticks. Is it a question or the cornerstone to some resolute understanding, even while her drugged up brain grinds against the intelligence she's waved and punched out cold.
Drip. Drip. Drip-drip. Drip. Drip-drip. Drip
and the laughter that comes tickling out of her wide opened mouth echos. The walls are color. The world is music.
"Tee hee...."
Drip. Drip. Drip-drip. Drop. Drip-drip. Drip