= Physical Appearance =
Hair Color: N/A
Facial Hair: N/A
Distinguishing Features: N/A
= Family =
= Professions =
= Residence =
= Personal Information =
General Overview: N/A
Deity Nicknames: N/A
= Skills / Abilities =
Immortality – Technically immortal. Immune to the effects of aging, cannot die by any conventional means, and is immune to all known mortal diseases and infections.
Babble-speak – Can communicate in all languages and dialects.
= Possessions =
Normal Daily Wear: N/A
= Historical Synopsis =
= Introduction =
Greetings, my pets.
I am Eris, Goddess of Chaos and Destruction. I’ll start by-
Are you fucking kidding me? Ok, I’ll wait here while anyone who thought they were on Eros’ page stands up to leave. Oh man, I thought this was the sexy time page. GTFO with that shit.
For those of you still here…
As I was saying. I am Eris, Goddess of Chaos and Destruction. I suffer the reputation that my persona brings, but it’s silly, really. Even the gods are daft enough to believe in this whole ridiculous notion of good vs. evil. It’s all two sides of the same damn coin. Was it your modern Orwell who said it? War is peace. Think again, children. That was me. Well, all right, to be fair, he made it famous. But who do you think was in his ear – and in his sheets – before he wrote his little book?
My point is simply this – we are all chaos. We are war. We are destruction. The molecules of our fabric are built upon principles which state that lack of order forms our very world. Each nanosecond our flesh is breaking and reforming trillions of chemical bonds. We are borne of stochasticity. Without me, we are static particles with no composure. I think some penises in the 1900’s decided to call this the third law of thermodynamics. Are we noticing a pattern here? (And no, it’s not just ending paragraphs with questions.)
The answer to that, is of course, NO. There are no patterns. Chaos, remember? Try to stay with me.
And where were we, anyway? Ah, yes. Good vs. evil. Such a silly trope. We are all everything. Give me any example and I’ll show you its dark side. Even the noblest of ancient Romans sat, aroused, waiting for heads to be not-so-delicately removed in gladiator brawls.
What? Was it the aroused thing? We all know what togas can and can’t hide.
I’d get annoyed that you keep taking me off topic, but my loins burn with the random nature you’re making my introduction take. I think I’ll keep you around, dear sweet little Mortal.
Oh, yes, and lest I forget…
While the scrolls INSIST on leaving this part out, I am also Goddess of Band Names (#bandnames). I know, I know, how could anyone leave such an important thing out, right? Especially because the combination and sheer juxtaposition (yes, I studied for the ancient equivalent of the SAT, too) of war with hashtag-bandnames soaks my… whatever the goddess’ equivalent of panties are. What? Of course I know what the equivalent clothing item is. But YOU don’t and that’s fun for me.
That’s all. There’ll be more later. Or will there?
No Patterns (#bandnames)
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