Random Crap


The character was named RavenEris; she morphed from a humanoid form to a raven. This was from probably around 1999 or so?


Born under a dark moon, Raven spends endless nights flying over battlefields, accompanying warriors on their path of death and destruction. A symbol of occult wisdom and power, the Raven is a messenger of the spirit world…and a trickster, as is her Greek counterpart, Eris, goddess of chaos, disorder, and confusion. She will stand to the death beside a true friend, but enemies beware… A guardian through the cycle of death and rebirth, the scintillating rainbow colors in the dark wings of Raven remind us that even in the midst of darkness, we have the power to touch the light…if we care to…which she seldom does…


Standing a mere 5’2″, her long ebony hair tinged with the rainbow glints so common to the raven and falling to just below her knees, with large blue eyes that can look into a person’s soul, Eris is an enigma wrapped in a mystery encased in a riddle surrounded by a conundrum – fitting…as she takes her name from the Greek goddess of discord, chaos, and confusion. A golden apple with a Greek letter “k” tattooed on her upper right arm, her diminutive size is deceiving as she has the strength and power of a case of TNT. Her large expressive eyes conceal the trickster within, the bitch waiting to escape, the ever-present yet ever-elusive goddess Discordia waiting for that one moment when she can throw the monkey wrench into any situation or expel conflict with laughter.

Morph from Raven to RavenEris:

Eris spreads her wings wide and stands tall, her talons swiftly and effortlessly becoming sleek black knee-high boots, her leather pants tight and culminating above the thighs to a thin waist, her pale torso bare from waist to navel, which is pierced with an ever-so-tiny silver ankh [there’s your Egyptian part…swiped from my favorite comic character, Gaiman’s Death;)], above…a skin-hugging black tank that shows her every delicious, delectable curve, the neckline cut just low enough to show a hint of cleavage, leaving the rest to the imagination since her long hair flows down over her shoulders, covering just enough to keep one wondering…exposing just enough to keep one wanting. On her back…a cape? The cape quivers, revealing itself instead to be an incredible and enormous pair of wings, glistening with faint rainbow glimmers, the sort created by sun glinting on an oil slick on a lonely country highway. Her luscious lips, painted a deep burgundy, so deep it’s nearly black…is that lipstick…or perhaps the remnants of last night’s dinner…?

Morph from RavenEris to Raven:

Planting her boot-clad feet firmly on the ground, Eris spreads her wings wide and brings them down and around to cover her diminutive form. For a moment she seems to disappear – there’s a flicker and a puff of air as the Raven takes flight, landing on a nearby ledge to gaze eerily into the room.


If then, as you tell me, they are willing to restore my
liberty if I am willing to pay for it by the sacrifice
of my principles or my tastes, we may bid one another
eternal adieu, for rather than part with those,
I would sacrifice a thousand lives and a thousand
liberties, if I had them.
Marquis de Sade

The most merciful thing in the world,
I think, is the inability of the human mind
to correlate all its contents.
H.P. LovecraftThe Call of Cthulhu

Here´s to the losers
Substance abusers
To the rejects
All the imperfects
To the retarded
And the broken-hearted
To the starving masses
And the lower classes
´Cause I think we´re beautiful
The most beautiful in the world
Warrior SoulThe Losers

Tonight a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely
energy condensed to a slow vibration,
that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively,
there’s no such thing as death, life is only a dream,
and we’re in the imagination of ourselves.
Here’s Tom with the weather . . .

The Devil whispered behind the leaves,
“It’s pretty, but is it Art?”
Rudyard Kipling

All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good;
And, spite of pride, in erring reason’s spite,
One truth is clear,
Whatever is, is right.
Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man

All that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.
Edgar Allen Poe

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *