A Chaos Faerie's Thoughts

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Xaolyn was a faerie, a faerie named Xaolyn, to be exact. While Xaolyn wasn't her actual name, what it used to be had been long lost in her 154 years of existance. She was a Discordian. Being a Discordian was important to Xaolyn, who loved her Goddess, Eris with all her heart. She loved the force of Hodge, disorder, but not for its entropic qualities, or even for its insanely unpredictable random qualities. She loved it for its association with the surreal, the bizarre, the creative, and the colorful.

All these factors lead to an interesting question. Why was she sitting around in a chapel to a god of order and goodness? She thought this to herself, as she grumbled at the blinding holy whiteness that constantly intruded on her reverie-induced mental filter that was making the chapel into an otherwise nonsensical, whimsical corruption of itself to her senses. Her other consciousness quickly reminded her of the paranoia it was feeling. Yehovah might not be entirely accepting of those of a disordered persuasion, or faeries, but he was a very forgiving god, and cared about his own church being a peaceful, civil place.

Problem is, peaceful and civil also meant another adjective: BORING. Even with the shifting absurdity her own mind projected on her surroundings, she had an aching, pervasive desire for new inspiration, for her imagination to utilize for fun new ideas. Problem was, she had already been around most of Aedaris, and a lot of the areas outside it. There were some areas that she hadn't been around too much, but... they felt to her, oddly... wrong, not like how the Exoma feels to people of a logical mind, but how staring into the abyss makes the abyss stare back. Even the crystal cavern, in a sea of primal chaos, was somehow, more correct than the majority of the Almerian mainland. This was probably just her being weird and illogical though.

The church was safety though, Xaolyn liked safety. Her Goddess was no babysitter though, so she either had to fend for herself most of the time, or rely on Yehovah's watchful eye. She had been teased by her fellow Discordians about her disdain for the more overtly violent aspects of disorder, but she paid it no heed, chaos to her, was creation without logic, not destruction with prejudice. She even saw the importance of order, of Podge, on the grand scale of things. Light and dark made a shadow, hodge and podge... made a chao. Granted, she, like her fellow Discordians, preferred the hodge to the podge, and even she harbored desires to lessen the impact of order on the world, because order sure seemed like it wanted to lessen the impact of disorder.

She heard stories, about how long, long ago, the first people of the universe were truely free, creatures of pure disorder, shapeless, yet defined masters of the primal chaos of the universe. Then one day, one of them decided that they wanted more, and created an awful perversion of the Logrus; the Pattern, forever tainting the universe into a world of logic and objectivity. Thinking back on such an unforgivable act, made her realize how the Tyrants must feel in their desire to purge her wonderful disorder from the universe. But disorder was there first, and its beauty is what the universe truely is, at its heart, not a heart of order.

She reached up to pet her duo of metaphysical dream fish, as they ceaselessly and delightfully babbled strange, insightful quotes, the very same she found herself capable of pulling out of her boundless Discordian devotion, and sighed contently. She shouldn't have gotten angry like that, bad thoughts mean bad dreams, and if her fish could enjoy things, so could she. After all, home was never out of reach. Both the Temple of Discordia, which wasn't too far from Losthaven in general, and her personal microcosm, a bubble of safe chaos and dreamlike whimsy floating through the dangerous, yet comforting chaos of the Exoma.

Euneirophrenia, the oldest of her two psycho-ichthyoidal lifemates drifted idly through her head, the intangible fish tingled multisensorically as it passed through her brain, filling her head with a brief cacophony of bizarre incomprehension. It felt good. The normally stark, utilitarian closet, filled with the ceremonial items Yehovah's faithful used, was a strange, polychromatic rave, smelling of wintergreen and emitting the sounds of a strange, otherworldly orchestra to her, as well as whoever would get too close, such as her fish, who otherwise did not seem to regard their surroundings with any form of interest, being more concerned with their own inner world.

The closet door opened, and an Advenus popped in, babbling insane gibberish, mounted on a creature she recognized as a byakhee, "Oh goodie, Notudwin's been bugging Cthulhu again!" She thought to herself, recognizing the telltale insanity of someone who has had their mind probed by alien thoughts. Amongst the crazed motions, she spotted a gesture signalling a desire for regained sanity. She grinned widely at the visitor, "OoOOkay hoNeYbunCH! LeT's GET thAT bRAIn alL nIcE AnD fIXed thEN!" She babbled, in her telltale annoying musical nonsense voice that she adopted. While most discordians were rather unpredictable in their accents and cadence, Xaolyn constantly sounded like a cheerful mental patient on a sugar binge, which was rather annoying to some, and somewhat tolerable to others.

She hovered in front of Notudwin, shifting her posture to point her hands infront of her, bringing them together, palms outwards, making the five-fingered hand that activated her POEE channeling abilities. She felt the primal, chaotic energies well up within her, and focused them outwards as a colorful beam, straight into the Advenus's body. His face slowly went from a tortured grimace of conflicting thoughts, into an expression that'd count as "content" for an ELF Guerrilla. Satisfied at a job well done, she hovered closer, patting her patient on the head, and flying back to the corner she was sitting in, on top of a box of communion wafers, which to her, was a mesh crate made of a strange material composed of solidified chemicals, filled with energy-granting beverages, contained not within glass vials but metal cylinders. She waved Notudwin goodbye as he left, and went back to her introspection. At least she got stuff done, when it was necessary, even if she did spend all her time in this closet, she'll leave... eventually.

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