Randell
Fast, faster, Olet ran as fast as she could out from the Pure Realm. Her footsteps got sloppy, she was growing more and more tired. She gave in, her feet gave up on her. She crashed into the ground all whilst clutching the broom in her arms, trembling as she felt herself skid agaisnt her skin. She laid there, almost motionless. Tears stung her eyes again, again, she'd been crying too much. But she had been happy before? She had tears of joy? Where have they gone? She reached a hand up to her fave and gently tapped under her eyes. Retracting it and gazing upon the wet residue that coated her fingers. Yes these were tears... So why did they not feel the same as before? 

She sniffled and planted her cheek agaisnt the earth in frustration as she tried to come to terms with these feelings. She had felt this before, before she had left the Pure Realm. For a moment, it was bittersweet. But now? Now it was just bitter. She sighed and sat herself up looking towards the broom, making sure it had not even one scratch. She remained still but somewhat relieved as she held it near and began looking around, seemed as though she'd found herself back to Gaia. She looked up at the tree and went to sit closer, leaning agaisnt the large roots and shutting her eyes. This feeling, it was awful... She didn't know what it was. The opposite of happiness perhaps? Nothing Diova had told her about, one thing she knew was that she didn't wanna experience it again. But it wouldn't go away, Olet tried shutting her eyes tightly and holding her breathe, gasping for air and panting quietly gritting her teeth realizing the feeling still lingered only getting stronger and more overwhelming. An expression, an expression had begun to appear upon her plain features. A frown, a scowl even, she tried to return to her flat smile but nothing. She grabbed her cheeks and tried pulling them upwards, but nothing. She let the tears that had stung her eyes begin to run down her face, as her breath began to become shakey.

*What is this feeling...?*
Joseph
Spread too thin yet still finding the need to further fragment herself, Melancholia silently sat on one of her "Mother's" Thick roots. It was peaceful. The chill in the air was soothing, along with the deep presence of the void and the overwhelming power she gained from simply.. Resting. She was alone, and she enjoyed it. For the first time in a while, she was not seeking out suffering. There was no manipulation, no slippery words, and no broken, meaningless hugs from people she tried too hard to understand.

Blankly, she hummed a song and tried to trace the shape of the roots with her finger. When they got too thin, her feeble vision did not allow her to see them anymore. The goddess of sadness should have been pondering her plans, but she did not want to. They only made her feel bad. Strangely enough, she was *Sick* Of feeling bad.

In another place, her love was being killed. In another place, she was banishing two goddesses from the Land of Eternal Rain. In another place, she was attempting to trick the deity of romance.

It got tiring.

As though she was not even worthy of *Tranquility*, she heard the sounds of rushed footsteps pound in her direction. Her grim expression darkened. She soundlessly turned her body, only to lay her gaze on a puny, young demigod. Perhaps Melancholia should have left; half-gods were not supposed to intermingle with true gods. However, she realized that her influence would likely help the girl who was sprinting towards her.

The closer the demigod got, the bluer Melancholia's atmosphere became. Sadness. Her influence only amplified the depression that she was feeling, seeping into her brain and gently harboring it. Gently, turned to the sobbing child. She did not stand up, for being below another was not something she was afraid of. Despondency was everywhere; from the top of the world tree, to the very bottom, where she sat on the roots. There was never an area that Melancholia's power did not cover.

No words came out of her mouth. In spite of the fact that she knew she should have been comforting, she simply *Couldn't* Bring herself to say anything. Nothing she could spew out would even come close to all of the vast possibilities. She could have changed the demigod, making her her own by taking the desolation within her and twisting it into a motivator. Or, perhaps, she could have helped the demigod. Too many options plagued her mind.

Choices, choices, Melancholia was sick of making choices.
Save Edon, or let him be attacked?
Enter the realm of the love goddess, or save it for another time?
Keep trying with Amythyst and Tsu, or let them go?

Even in her attempt to find peace, she was presented with an idiotic choice. She should have thrown the demigod off of the World Tree and evacuated the crime scene. The girl was crying, though, and Melancholia simply felt too awful to do something as cruel as that. Edon would do it. Savarii would not. Her only friends were unknowingly gaining control of her mind, for she found herself often wondering whether Edon or Savarii or anybody else would make the choice she thought of. She did not want to accept that she was very different from the two of them, and whatever she decided to do, it likely would not be what her heart yearned for.

At last, the goddess of sadness and music made up her mind. She slowly raised herself from the ground. With hesitance, she brought her feathery arms up and embraced the adolescent, her incredibly cold touch only slightly discomforting to one's skin.
Randell
Cold. Since when did it get cold? Olet shivered, unaware of the Goddess' presence until she finally looked up to see a light blue being. Wings? Olet thought as her eyes trailed from Melancholia's arms to finally her face. Olets expression did not change as she plainly started towards the Goddess. Her feelings were only being amplified, it hurt. 

It hurt so much, this embrace, it was nothing like his. It wasn't warm, nor comforting, it was cold and it hurt. This pain had yet to go away, she was withholding her tears now. Trying to hold back every noise that wanted to spill out of her, she wanted to scream. She wanted to scream so loud it shattered her vocal cords, leaving her mute for the rest of whatever life she'd be given.

Doubt.

Doubt had crept into her mind once more, what once was feelings of hope, want, and desires had now been overtaken by disintrest, pain, and sadness. Sadness, this being, she radiated it. Perhaps... Was it her purpose? A goddess of sadness, what an awful gift to endure. Olet shifted a little in the goddess grasp, she held her hands and placed them back towards the being. Letting her knees extend, slumping on the roots and letting out a small sigh. Her body felt limp, she felt like she was dying, she wanted this pain to end already.

"Question.." Olet said plainly, breaking the small silence between the two. She didn't stare, nor blink, she couldn't even bring herself to breathe as she continued talking. "Will it. Go away?" She said, though she had no tone, she was trembling. Surely this goddess could help, she had to. She had no one! She wanted help, she needed it, someone had to tell her what was wrong, how to fix it, how to solve everything! For she knew nothing, nothing, nothing, all Olet had known was nothing. Pure bliss, it was all she's known. An empty head, no opinion, no thoughts. She simply existed. 

Doubt.

All these bottled up emotions made her body feel as though it was ready to explode. She couldn't hold them in, but she had to. She had to. She had to. She had to. *I have to* She told herself, that's a way to stop feeling like this right? Ignore. Dismiss. A demi-god that was once curious about life's meaning and what it had to offer, who yearned to learn about what it meant to feel alive and what it meant to feel. NOw had no interest in feeling anything, no interest in life. The little demigod held the pearly white broom close and allowed herself to cry quietly. She allowed herself to only express so much, to relieve herself, only for a little.
Joseph
The girl's pain echoed through the goddess's body, reeking of unsureness and pure agony. It reminded Melancholia of herself. As she embraced the demigod, she ran her gentle yet harmful hands through her white hair. Sadness hurt, but it should not have. How come the deity could not even ultimately control her own domain? Had it been up to her, desolation would have been a feeling welcomed by all.

The numbness in her voice was almost touchable, and it made Melancholia softly smile behind the half-god's back. Slowly, she unraveled her arms, icily sitting down alongside her fellow divine being. For a while, she simply thought about the question. It burned her. She knew the answer, but she did not want to say it; she *Could not* Say it. 
At last, the goddess of despondency's mouth moved, allowing a response to coldly emerge.
"No." Melancholia hold her tight, as though she feared the demigod would fall from the roots of Yggdrasil and into the void. Her hand reached for her face. The tears she felt were warm and clement, yet also utterly tragic and heartbreaking. What had happened to cause such an ugly type of gloominess to materialize. "However, it does not forever have to be so... Chilling."

Wiping her cries away, the goddess permitted the liquified sorrow to seep into her skin. It felt melancholy, even to her. "You are too beautiful to sob like this, child."

The blueness within her eyes was deep and indigo, endless like the dimmed, starlit sky. Although she should have been careful and highly attentive to the sensitive little girl, Melancholia's shoulders relaxed. A gray wind shifted the atmosphere between them; it was benign.

She didn't even know who she was physically bonding with. Why did she care so much? If she truly had the desire to, she could have shoved the demigod off of the World Tree and left. However, she did not. That wasn't who Melancholia was. Murderous tendencies were not particularly on her list of passions, despite their heavy presences in her friends' lives. Melancholia was not a killer. She did not like to hurt people.

A gnarly frown materialized on her face. Just as the girl was crying, the goddess of sadness was as well. The pain they equally felt rang through the atmosphere, chiming and making pulchritudinous sounds of music. It was colorful and dreary, filled to the brim with different sounds and chords and notes. The composer was Melancholia herself, and the player was the innocent little half-god who moped by her side. She looked at her nameless companion in the eye.

 May be ravishing if you allow it to be.