12-20-2018, 08:53 AM
It is harder and harder to anchor himself on this side of the dreams.
He uses triggers like moonstone and navy to bring him back over, and a pair of dark all-seeing eyes that he cannot shake from both his mind and his memory. The things he’s felt since then all plane in comparison to how she looked with her eyes leaking tears for him. Abysm can’t remember if anyone has ever cried over him - maybe his mother, but only because she’d recognized the error of her ways in abandoning him.
The boy - man, mayhap? he is of age now, for all that he still thinks of himself as motherless and little - teeters along the edge of a yawning chasm. It mirrors the same one his selfish mother plucked him from before committing him fully to her womb and this life. Down below, he can hear the quarrel and call of monsters like him. He thinks of joining them from time to time; one step over and he’d just fall and fall and fall.
Rapt has already replaced him.
Kagerus has time and time again.
He’s lost his place here, and his hold on this earth grows ever more tenuous.
Were it not for Sibyl (and some others, curious interactions), he thinks he might divest himself of his flesh and embrace being incorporeal. Being a ghost is just as good as being a monster or some child the nothingness spat up.
But it’s not the nothingness that is coughing him up into the dusk of a place he’s not familiar with. Dreams have a way of doing that sometimes. He’s used to finding himself in the meadow or by the river, and now he’s listening to the crash of waves upon a shore as the dusk spangles around him in dances of notes and light.
There is a figure, soft and feminine, and he doesn’t recognize her at first because he’s imagining a grown-up Sibyl come to greet him until the scent is all wrong in his nose and the placement of lips against his skin is just not right. It was too late to stop the way something ignited in his skin, even as she said his name in choking admittance that has him pinning his eyes to her in sudden understanding. She hadn’t expected it to be him; he’s half-shocked and unsurprised - no one waits for him, pines for him, looks for it to be him.
Whatever had ignited in him, dies out just as fast and hardens into a hard lump of black pitiless coal and ash. He lifts his head an inch higher, looking haughty and imperious even as her longing tries to reawaken something inside him or appeal to his better nature. It is unsuccessful and he just feels cruel. Abysm wants to act on his cruel impulses but he keeps himself in check momentarily.
“Solace…” and her name is drawn out of him in a ragged whisper as if he hasn’t spoken in a while. He casts around to see if there is anyone else nearby but there isn’t - they are alone. So he smiles, still boyish and charming - will she spot the ruse, catch the almost forced nature of it? Perhaps not, and he smiles on. “Where am I?” He feigns ignorance, though in truth, he has no clue where the dreams have deposited him.
There had been a tug back to this side of the dreaming and he’d thought it was Sibyl, the likes of which he’s beginning to find in every nuance of Solace’s look. He wonders vaguely if they are related but bites back the impulse to ask. Last thing he needs is some upstart older sister or whatever telling him he’s not good enough for the sweet, sweet Sibyl.
Impulsive still, he slowly reaches out to run his own lips across her skin just as he murmurs almost beneath his breath, “mother.” There is anything but innocence in his touch. Suggestion (but what kind: sexual, needy, childish?) perhaps, which might be indicative of things to come - -
and he awaits her reaction because he has seen that she is stumbling all over herself and almost nervous in his presence. Abysm might capitalize on that, he thinks with more of a smolder than a smile.
@[Solace] um hello muse! and no idea why this got weird and a little dark? lol
i would do anything for love,
but i won’t do that