looking for heaven found the devil in me; any

[abysm]

Abysm’s wants were highly simplistic:

Love, for starters. The kind that wasn’t the endless devotion and pride of his father. He wanted the kind where someone served him their heart on a platter of delicate curving ribs and soft skin. The kind of love they talk about that you only get once in a a lifetime, be it a mother’s or a lover’s.

And he wanted her to notice him. Not in the pitying way that a mother must love the thing she helped create. Only not fully because first it came from a place it shouldn’t have and secondly, because she no longer loved the other half that helped him create him. He did not want her pathetic attempts at making up for lost time that she’d been the one to throw away for the sake of power, love, and better babies. 

Secretly he wanted her to fear him. Whether for a minute or a long lasting moment. He wanted her to feel small and insignificant; to pale at the sight of him. Enough so that he gained her respect on a much more equal level than the shambling pathetic thing she offered him thinking it was a benevolent gift.

All that appeals to him currently in this world is making his mother bow to him in concession that she ought to have been there, tried harder and loved him harder. Oh and the girls... sweet, perfumed with warm summer grass and wild aching need, and eyes dark and flirting. 

Plus his dreams - the fact that he can go inside them at any given moment and change their outcome, for good or bad. Such power should not have been left carelessly to a child but it has been and so far even the dream-world has been moderately safe.

“HA!” he cries aloud almost doubling over at the scornful laughter that comes up from deep in his belly. “I’m a pauper in her eyes. Not one of the golden children that came from her beloved ‘s slick well-used thighs that she adores so much.” He spits his distaste until the spittle is thick on his lips and the gate has reached the brim of his heart and spills over into his twisted guts.

The rawboned smirk and curious glimmer in the deadman’s eyes is met with a glitter in his own eyes and a smirk on his own mouth. “Things like this...” and as he trails off, the fabric of the world is ripped asunder as he plunges them fast and hard into a dream that has yet to determine who it belongs to but is certainly not one of Abysm’s original making. 

It will be now, he decides as he wrests control of it from the unknown dreamer and looks pointedly at the stallion - “Tell me what to make them dream.” because he cannot just hand over the strings of his power to him but he can manipulate from his words alone and wreak havoc that way, on Rodrik’s behalf.

@[Rodrik] ugh sorry this took forever! let me know if you need anything changed but basically Rodrik can tell Abysm how he wants the dream to go and Bys will make it happen. <3