11-17-2016, 04:20 PM
find what you love … and let it kill you
Epithet had lost far more than she had bargained for in the reckoning.
Epithet had lost her sanity.
And so it seems that the curse of Charlemagne has descended upon Epithet in such a way that she could barely escape. Just like the drawing away of winter had given in to a cold, damp spring—for yes, it is spring—Epi found that she was still clinging to something deeper, looking for something to make sense within the brain that she now felt melting down, down, down. Deeper still, she felt that she was not as good as she thought herself to be. The madness was drawing these tiny little black thoughts inside her head. Thoughts that, perhaps, being bad might even be…well—fun.
She looked back and forth at the girl who suddenly appeared to appear out of nowhere with her… appearance. She was so sweet, and so unassuming. Epithet wished she knew the girl, and looked back at Leola, and smiled a weak smile. The look of desperation clinging to her lips like poorly drawn makeup.“I have lost my heart. My blood—it pumps dust into my veins. The magic…it is gone. It is all gone. And the girl—she doesn’t even know the powers she has… because she’s never had them. I’ve failed us both.” She smiles right through Marlyn, looking at a friendly face; convinced its not there.
Nobody cares about Epithet. Epithet fades into obscurity. No royal halls for this woman.
Nobody likes poor Epithet.
In her mind, she is rocking back and forth, but all Epithet can do is stand there, pacing, swaying side to side slightly, looking for an anchor to call home… Because nothing made sense anymore. And poor Leola—if she discovered she had powers and had never been able to use them… well it would be all Epi’s fault.
Isn’t it always Epi’s fault? Isn’t that why they always leave?
They always leave.
Epithet had lost her sanity.
And so it seems that the curse of Charlemagne has descended upon Epithet in such a way that she could barely escape. Just like the drawing away of winter had given in to a cold, damp spring—for yes, it is spring—Epi found that she was still clinging to something deeper, looking for something to make sense within the brain that she now felt melting down, down, down. Deeper still, she felt that she was not as good as she thought herself to be. The madness was drawing these tiny little black thoughts inside her head. Thoughts that, perhaps, being bad might even be…well—fun.
She looked back and forth at the girl who suddenly appeared to appear out of nowhere with her… appearance. She was so sweet, and so unassuming. Epithet wished she knew the girl, and looked back at Leola, and smiled a weak smile. The look of desperation clinging to her lips like poorly drawn makeup.“I have lost my heart. My blood—it pumps dust into my veins. The magic…it is gone. It is all gone. And the girl—she doesn’t even know the powers she has… because she’s never had them. I’ve failed us both.” She smiles right through Marlyn, looking at a friendly face; convinced its not there.
Nobody cares about Epithet. Epithet fades into obscurity. No royal halls for this woman.
Nobody likes poor Epithet.
In her mind, she is rocking back and forth, but all Epithet can do is stand there, pacing, swaying side to side slightly, looking for an anchor to call home… Because nothing made sense anymore. And poor Leola—if she discovered she had powers and had never been able to use them… well it would be all Epi’s fault.
Isn’t it always Epi’s fault? Isn’t that why they always leave?
They always leave.
Epithet