[open] there is a dream in the space between the hammer and the nail; any

[rapt]

rapt

rapt.

I need you to be a monster
which is to say, I am trying not to love you

Rapt’s mouth is dry when he wakes.
He sleeps a lot, it seems, maybe too much. He feels strange sometimes, languid, like the very gold of him has melted and only barely reformed. He folds his legs beneath himself and rises slowly to his feet, a faint ache in the joints that did not used to be there. He is not old, not yet, but he is older, feels the faint signs of it as his muscles ache easier, the faintest blur around his vision. He moves closer to the river, taking in the sweet sound of water, drinks until the taste of dust is gone from his mouth.
It is quiet here. Rapt knows, vaguely, of distant turmoil, lands collapsed and made from nothing, but he does not overly concern himself with him, nor they him. Rapt is not much of an asset of a threat, a golden stallion with the ability to heal himself and little else. He’s certainly not a warrior, nor is he particularly smart – he has a long string of bad choices in his wake that speaks volumes about him. He has a child, but does not know what’s become of him, hasn’t seen they boy in years. He hopes Abysm is still alive, believes, deep inside, that he is – surely Rapt would feel it if he wasn’t, would feel an ache in the secret place inside of him that had, impossibly, born his son.
I would know, he tells himself when his son crosses his mind, I would know.

Water drips from his lips and falls light onto the grass underfoot as he moves away. The stiffness in his joints is soon gone as the sun warms his pale gold skin, softens the glow of his mane and tail.
And on Rapt moves through the grass beside the river because for the first time in a long time, he feels like moving.

which is to say, I am still dreaming of kissing your claws

whats up i've forgotten how to write

[Dharma]

You know how to balance, but I don't...

Dharma is not entirely sure how she's gotten here. Not specifically here, but in this new world. Her bright orange eyes are nearly popping from her head. As her tanned frame slithers from place to place, Dharma finds herself wondering how she has ever stumbled into such an oddly, beautiful place. Her hooves, though she tries to keep them soft and subtle, are abusing the ground trying only to live beneath them. 

She spots him then. Fluorescent in the light. There is no mistake that he may be older, but that does not deter her. She watches patiently, lurking trying to find any excuse to understand others. Anyone. Just trying to make the right approach. With the shake of her withers, she realizes he is already walking away. "Excuse me, Her words come out, soft, hushed. Almost terrified. She hopes for an answer from the stranger. She prays for answers as to where she is. But most of all, she prays for someone or something, She cannot be left alone. 

"I'm Dharma."

I wish I could finally just find home.

@rapt so sorry I'm new again and rusty and my html is doing me no favors lol

[rapt]

rapt

rapt.

I need you to be a monster
which is to say, I am trying not to love you

He feels the weight of her gaze first, a faint pricking of the skin, the sensation of being watched. He does not know it for what it is, not at first, he is too caught in the weight of old memories, dreams of monsters and stars and the wicked curve of horns.
Something intangible worms its way into his senses, makes him turn and face her a moment before she speaks. He takes her in, the youth of her, the dark gloss of her mane. She is quiet, when she speaks, and he wonders if she is for some reason frightened of him, or if it is simply her nature to be quiet, soft-spoken.
He smiles, steps slightly closer. His social skills are rusty, and most of Rapt’s interactions and relationships with others have been on the odd side – to put it lightly – but he pretends at normalcy, here with that smile on his gold lips, river water still dewy on his whiskers.

“Hi Dharma,” he says, “I’m Rapt.”
He pauses, then, scrabbling for something else, suddenly quite sick of the silence.
“Are you alone?”
Perhaps too loaded a question, that – but as we’ve said, Rapt is out of practice.

which is to say, I am still dreaming of kissing your claws

@Dharma

[Dharma]

I wish I could finally just find home

When the strangers turns to acknowledge her, Dharma feels her shoulders and the tension occupying them loosen. The stallion moves closer, not in a way that makes her feel threatened. She craves the closeness of others. The smile playing upon his misted muzzles causes her lips to tug upward, a genuine smile. The mare normally has a smile plastered to her face, like a permanent grin that others tend to find unsettling. In general, she finds that life is quite lovely, and those around her just haven’t taken the time to marvel in it. But strange new lands often mean even stranger new faces. Though Dharma believes all beings are inherently good, her mother always cautioned her that she was naive, and could not trust every practiced word that fell from another’s lips.

Rapt. The name rolls around in her brain, and she decides she quite likes the way the consonants surround the vowel. It’s simple, yet sounds powerful. With a small dip of her crown, she extends her left leg and giggles as she bows dramatically. ”A pleasure to meet you, Rapt.” Golden orbs flicker to meet his, glowing with childlike wonder. Life is but a game to her, and not everyone finds it to be as funny.

”Are you alone?” Her head subconsciously snaps back towards her now arched neck. Her right brow drew up, a miniscule amount that she hoped he wouldn’t notice. With the rise and fall of her chest, she reminded herself to be polite. Her smile never faltered, and she allowed her coiled neck to loosen, nodding her head as she did so. Perhaps the question was just small talk, she reminded herself not to take things so personally.

”Well I’ve met you, so I suppose I’m not completely alone.” Her left eye closes, in what she means to appear as a wink. Dharma has never been great with charming others, although she would die trying. ”And you, Rapt? Are you alone?” Vocals come out a little stronger now, though still smooth and sweet as honey. Her onyx tails flickers back and forth, lightly tapping her golden flank. With both ears perked in his direction, it is clear he has her full attention.

@rapt