Epithet Erased One-Shots

There's a Time for Researching, and a Time for Self-Care

(Requested by Sassy_Gay_Fish.  Sorry, it won't let me @ you :(  )

Sylvie crouched over his desk, absorbed in his work.  The room was dark, with the curtains drawn closed over the inky black sky- or at least it was dark when he closed them.  He was snapped out of his work by the ringing of his phone alarm. He crossed the room to retrieve it, rubbing his tired eyes, and retrieved his phone.  The phone pinged a message from his alarm app. Six in the morning, time to wake up. Darn it, he had stayed up all night again. He was just so close to a break though, he could feel it.  He couldn’t give up now. He sat back down at the desk, which had numerous paper scattered about it.

If there was anything that Mera girl had done right, it was that her epithet gave him a lot to work with in terms of research.  Not only did she prove firsthand that epithets have the power to be detrimental to one’s physical and mental health, but also provided a prime example to epithet-induced violence.  Even more helpful, in his mind anyways, was the fact that he had witnessed it. Her power, her pain, the destructive potential of an epithet- He was there to see it all. Finally, it was Saturday, a day where he didn’t have to worry about his job, and he could immerse himself into his research.

He continued to scrawl notes to himself.  His handwriting was neat, but small, and many people had complained it was hard to read because it was so small.  To that, he didn’t care. When he took notes, it was for himself, and he could read it just fine, thank you very much!  So many papers covered in minuscule writing, he was so close, so very close!

What exactly he was close to, he wasn’t so sure of himself, but it was a feeling, something deep inside of him.  There was a connection between epithets and health, but what could it be? Of course, epithets like “harm” or “destruct” could be used to hurt others, and epithets like “anxiety” or Mera’s own “fragile” were hurtful to their users, but he was researching the other ways.

Mera displayed many signs of poor mental health despite her epithet only affecting her physically.  He once met a boy whose epithet, “snake,” had turned him into a compulsive liar. Even Molly, his only friend, showed signs of anxiety when things got too complex, and her epithet was dumb.  Psychology and epithets- there was a deeper connection under the surface. Words that were connected to mental health at one point but no longer were, but somehow still wore down on a person?  Or maybe epithet directly affected a person’s brain and thoughts subconsciously, and an epithet could change an individual’s whole personality and interests? Did all users of the same epithet act the same way?  He frowned, knowing there was no real way to test that last theory. Knowing two people that had the same epithet- and he was ignoring the obvious emotional turmoil that might entail, seeing as an epithet can only be obtained by another after death -was very rare, and sometimes an epithet went decades, centuries even, after its previous user had passed.  Maybe he could look at the correlation between certain epithets and seemingly unrelated mental health problems they caused. If he looked into the etymology-

His phone once again jolted him out of his train of thought.  He gave it a quick look, and did not recognize the number. He glared at the phone as he hung up and silenced his phone.  The phone’s clocked flashed eleven at him. Had his theorizing really gone on that long? He knew he should eat. It was one thing to stay up all night- sleep was time-consuming.  He should at least eat though. A small breakfast would do. He tossed his phone back down onto his bed carelessly, and it flopped around on the mattress until it settled upon the covers.  He left his room for the first time since he had begun researching last night. Really, he had no time to waste. Something big was coming, it had to be. What would be the point of all his research if it weren’t?  In the small kitchen of his apartment, he rummaged around a cupboard. He pushed aside a stack of ramen and a box of crackers, and found himself faced with the choice of cereal or a granola bar. He selected a granola bar from the box, and ate it quickly.  Just as he started to return to his room, there was a knock on the door.