[private] Crown of Bone and Thorn(Rapt)

[Kreed]

There was a shift in the clouds today.  Gone was the suffocating heaviness of muted grays.  Replacing them a churning dark wave than rolled overhead.  There was a malice in the rumble it emitted as I stood upon my rocky perch.  My silver eyes cast across the vastness of my empire, relishing in all its glory.

---

Spring had made its arrival and so I decide to descend my throne and make my rounds.  If I was to retain my status, I had to familiarize myself with all of Beqanna.  Plus, it had been some time since I reveled in the pleasures of my powers.

With cloven hooves I move easily across the slighter mountain-scape leading towards the source of their worlds magic.  My thickened coat from the winter keeps me warm still in the higher altitudes of the craggy cliffs.  The snow-covered tops were melting only slightly.  A soft pattering of drips echoed off the stone walls mimicking a light spring rainstorm.

I move in silence as always.  My senses vigilant as I make my way towards the flat plains of the Meadow.  The grass had just begun to emerge from its winter dormancy and with it the return of life.

Not being one to enjoy the trivial things of life, I hardly perk my ears to the twitter of birds and bustling of critters.  Only one thing ever piqued my interest, anomalies and fears.  And as I stepped out into the open grasslands my sight and powers extend from my consciousness, seeking to find anyone of interest...

Kreed

Crown of Bone and Thorn

@rapt

[rapt]

rapt

rapt.

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

Rapt does not let himself think too deeply of his desires.
It is not a brand of introspection that reflects particularly well on him. The knowledge that, beneath the gold veneer of the not-unhandsome stallion lays a rotting want, the desire of him monstrous and awful.
He can almost forget it, sometimes – he flits and moves about and they think he is normal and he is normal he is normal and he does not need to peel away the gilded mask. He smiles. He is normal.

He sees her and his mouth goes dry.

(He is normal.)

She looks so like him. The monster Rapt had knelt before, the monster he had worshipped so – father to his child, a being that haunts his dreams. Bruise had been a waking nightmare and Rapt had loved every moment of it – had loved him. Bruise had not returned the affections, of course, but Rapt felt the affection in the burn of his skin as he allowed himself to be ripped, his body healing itself so this might happen again, and again, and again.
She looks so like him, and though he looks closer and parses the differences, he still feels flighty, nervous, unsure how to compart himself.

But he goes to her. He must, you see.

He stops and he does not kneel even though a part of him so wants to. She isn’t Bruise.
“You…” he says, and something in hearing his voice, a word spoken aloud, shakes him from his stupor. He shakes his head as if he’s been struck, and then he smiles. A normal smile.
“Apologies,” he says, “you look like someone I once knew.”

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

@ Kreed