How heavenly it would be to live their lives free from the thought that they were being criticized, pointed out - their love for each other discussed as though it were some low vulgar thing. Lilyan Brock, Queer Patterns

*Vendetta was in the Park with the family, she was sitting in the grass with Pearle and Ivan. They were surrounded by garden flowers. Ven was admiring a few tulips. Something about them wouldn’t allow her to look away.*

*She’s not okay. Distracted. Disoriented. Disorderly. Then in the evening, she started to burn up as if she had a fever. Paul, Ivan and April tried everything they could, ultimately she fell asleep after an ice bath.*

*She wakes up in the dead of night. That should be normal for her at this point. This however, was anything but normal. Burning alive. Thoughts sewn through her that weren’t her own. Red magic desperately fought for control. She groaned and rolled off of the couch. She wanders.*

*She pushes ponies saying: Out of my way. She’s unreasonable picky with her food. I can’t eat this. Sorry. It’s completely unlike her, an overnight change. Her coat is pinker and more of her mane has become white.*

*When they refer to her as Vendetta; she stops them.* No, it’s Rosetta. Vendetta is harsh, Old; I don’t like it. So? What if it’s not? It’s not THAT far fetched that I would want to change.

*They’ve tried several different things they found on Vendetta’s curse. Somethings work for a time, but eventually wear off. She grows increasingly frustrated, with her temper shorter than usual she spends most of her time in on the roof.*

What does it mean to regret when you have no choice? It's what you can bear. And there it is... It was death. I chose life. Michael Cunningham, The Hours

*But try as she might, she cannot stop the unraveling thread that Erathis had started. She had fought it once before but now it was too much. Feeling ignored and outcasted, despite everyone’s efforts and concerns; she saw no progress in her recovery. Becoming hopeless.*

*She ran; as she did when she was younger, something in the back of her mind told her to. When no one was looking, she bolted. Past crystal ponies who looked on with fleeting concern. Teleporting past crowds until she finally made it out of the Crystal Empire. Snow. Ice.*

*She turns around to face him, angrily she steps forward.* You’re following me again?

when we are loved we are afraid love will vanish when we are alone we are afraid love will never return and when we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard Audre Lorde, A Litany for Survival

*She opens her eyes to find she’s staring in a mirror, only the reflection changes from herself to NV, then splits; one half umbrum. She feels a creeping feeling. Horror. Why? She knows these faces.*

*She tells Malon about this and he seemed to understand what was happening. They would have to go to the city nearby and purchase an ingredient that would help.*

I find I am constantly being encouraged to pluck out some one aspect of myself and present this as the meaningful whole, eclipsing or denying the other parts of self. Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches

*Having been sleeping beside him, she notices when he cannot restfully sleep. She follows him after he gets up.* Don’t you want to talk about it?

*Aaaaaa she’s crying and breaking furniture, or crying after having broken most of the furniture. When she sees Malon she stops and stomps toward him in a furious rage..!! ... then she stops and stares, glares at him.*

I made myself a promise: Even if it meant becoming a stranger to my loved ones, even if it meant keeping secrets, I would have a life of my own. Saeed Jones, How We Fight For Our Lives