Mona
The world was black, white, and gray.
The world was happy, sad, and angry.
The world was big, small, and medium.
The world was quiet, loud, and moderate.

For the first time since her birth many years ago, the goddess of desolation appeared in a different form: her true one. She was a skeleton, stripped bare of her heart and skin and lungs and lips. Her body was tiny and insignificant. If one were to swiftly pass her, they would likely miss the childlike deity.
She hid within the gardens of Gaia, yet she did not understand the fear within her. All of the power in the world was in her hands! Should anything disruptive come her way, dismantling it would take the snap of her two fingers.

The goddess was *Bad*. Two drumsticks flickered in her hands, and she tapped the air in order to make sounds. With trembling arms, she created a hushed beat. Why had she done the things that she did? Why did she love Edon? How come she possessed Amythyst and not someone who would have fought her back?

She sobbed. Tears flowed from her skeletal eye sockets, raining down ominously.

Why?

 Why?

 Why?

In spite of all of her empty blames and curses, she bore total control of each and every choice that she made. The Mother, Yggdrasil, did not *Make* Her ruin her life. She had done that herself.

Without a warning, her sadness turned into fury. She was a child in a goddess's body, attempting to play the role of a big girl. The flowers and lants were so beautiful. The drumsticks fell from her palms, and she began searching for indigo flowers. After all that had happened, blue was still her favorite color. Her sobbing grew muted, yet it did not cease. 
She had never sensed such emotions before. Lifting up some foliage, she was surprised to discover a rodent beneath it. Melancholia sniffled and did not regard him, not quite noticing that he was a god. Her fingers targeted a big cerulean flower next to him. 

She had tried her hardest to preserve its beauty, but soon enough it grew wilted and dull. The child deity started sobbing even heavier.
Norma
The mouse sat next to the flower, and watched the god beat the air with sticks, and create sound out of pain. This was his first experience of music, and it would stay with him for many lifetimes. He felt a small tear run down his mousy cheek, but he brushed it away, as it tickled his whiskers. He sat next to the blue flower, and watched her play her music.

As she reached down to pick the flower, he glanced at it, then turned back to her, watching as the flower in her hand wilted. He twitched his nose. He straightened his fur on his stomach, a little, just to make sure he was presentable. Perhaps this would be someone he could make food for. A pair of delicate lavender wings, like those of a dragonfly, slipped out from his back, and he flew up onto her skeletal knee, pulling from his satchel a second strawberry, which he offered up to her with two hands.

He had considered blueberries, but thought that since blue had been a colour for a sad song, red must be a colour for happy ones. It was a particularly delightful strawberry, rich and full, with pips in uniform spirals around it.

He was a small thing, and small things feel emotions harder then big things, because they fill them all up and leave no space for other thoughts. So he breathed away the thoughts of sad things, and thought about berries and pie and soft grass, and he hoped with all his little heart that the girl that made songs out of pain would feel similar things, as he held aloft his fruit offering.

"My name is Laumi. You have big emotions. Who are you, blue flower person?"

*He asked simply, with no particular anger nor happiness in his voice, only a neutral tone of facts, as though what he was saying was as irrefutable as their presence. He was not expecting any kind of surprise at his speech.*
Mona
As her fingers grasped at the dying flower, she tried her hardest to preserve its life. The petals turned went from purple to gray to green to brown. It idly drooped down in its place, as though the inhumane plant was emotionally affected by her aura.
The goddess of sadness sniffled. Strung between grace and ugliness, she appeared to contradict herself in many ways. Her empty hands rested upon her full sides. The atmosphere was melancholy, yet her gaze was angry.

Wiping her eyes, she gently begun cleaning up her tears. She wordlessly stared down at the little mouse. He was a soft creature, and it was hard to imagine him doing anything malicious. How come he was born benign and she was born with malevolent interests?

Without the words to thank the divine animal, the deity took the fruit and peeled off the leaves. It did not die in her hands. She did not have a stomach nor a digestive system entirely, yet she took a small bite of the strawberry. Its sweetness was unlike anything else that she had experienced; no person, perhaps, other than the love goddess had been so... Sugary.

Just like the little rodent, she was similarly a small thing. Melancholia's body was not an example of an extreme case, but it still proved Laumi's thoughtful ideation. Small things felt the world more intricately than large things.
Her fingers stroked the god's back. They were clement and forbearing, wintry and full of ice. 

"My.." She lifted the mouse into her palm; she hoped that he would not object, for he was so very soft and pleasant to the touch. "My name is Melancholia. I do have big emotions. I am the goddess of sadness and music, dearest little mouse."

Copying Laumi's speech format, she quietly murmured a flat introduction. His strawberry had seemed to muffle some of her depression. She picked up a drumstick and started hitting her femur with it, creating a hollow, melodic sound. It was beautiful, and not nearly as disconsolate as her last song.
Norma
Laumi twitched his whiskers a little as he listened to the god speak, closing his eyes in a pleased way as she stroked his back. It was cold, but it was gentle, and Laumi appreciated it. Laumi had no real concept of right or wrong, at such a large scale. He knew that hurt was bad and kind was good, but beyond that he did not think of himself or any other as any more benign or malicious then any other being. Big concepts weren't his forte.

He hopped into the hand happily, placing himself dead in the center, and Shrinking very slightly to fit better. He curled up a little, but made sure he was still facing her at least.

He took out a small collection of berries, and arranged them on the palm of her hand, placing them in a pile and starting to nibble at one, gesturing that she should take as she pleased, as a couple of raspberries tumbled down on to the floor. Laumi didn't seem to mind.
"You are Melancholia." He agreed, repeating her. 
"Sadness and music... These things are big. I am the god of small things, I think. Be it creature, creation, or comfort, if it is simple and small, it is my domain."

*He bowed slightly, using just his head, before setting back to work eating.*

"Mmmf. Your songs make thoughts." He said matter of factly. "This one makes me feel good."

He smiled as mice do, not by doing anything in particular, but simply allowing the observer to understand that the mouse is happy through an ethereal kind of empathy, as he let his tail dip in one direction then the other in time with the beat.

"You are like me. We are small creatures, and small things make big things. You make the biggest things."

He paused, then nodded to himself, apparently confirming what he had just said to himself.
Mona
He was a tiny animal, a gentle beast who had already gained the goddess's favor. As she stroked the god of smallness, she could not help but appreciate how soft and kind the deity was. Laumi was better than Melancholia and all of the others.
When the mouse entered her bony hand, she quietly curled her fingers upwards. There was no manipulation in the simple movement. She was ensuring that he would not fall from her hand, for if he were to try, he would be stopped.

He was incredibly orderly. The simple observations she made about Laumi brought peace to her mind; they were simplistic and tiny, chewable concepts, and she was more than capable of handling those. She smiled. In spite of the fact that there was likely a sickly plan motivating the adorable rodent, he was too therapeutic to disregard. 
"Sadness.." Melancholia sniffled. Picking up her drumsticks, she used one to softly stroke Laumi. Sounds of tranquility would emerge. To the deity of desolation, rain was audible in her ears. "..Can be small. Like you. Yes, it can be so very small. Just like music. We can both be small."

Her skinless face made it hard to create expressions. After a slow struggle, she managed to share the smile.
"Goodness has.. Never been my strength."

An indigo breeze tainted their fruits, turning the reds purples and the blues blacks. Melancholia suspiciously observed the fallen raspberries. Then, deciding they were not poisonous, she slipped one into her mouth.

"How come you don't make the biggest things, though?" She childishly blinked. Had she forgotten all that she had done?