Eira

Meet the page of Eira.

It is quite pleased to meet you indeed. It has been waiting for this fateful encounter for many a day. Yet, despite this, it has failed to bake cookies.

 My dear, dear Visitor

Welcome to the Carnival of  Snow. Before you proceed, there are a few things that you must keep handy.

1) The muse is dead. 

2) Food is dangerous.

Oh, are you still continuing onwards? How brave. How foolish. How strong.


 Here, the writing is not dependent on the flimsy fairy known as the muse. It has been killed with fire. While you may find the charred ashes of its spirit drifting through the desolate atmosphere, let me tell you that it does not matter. Here, writing comes with or without inspiration, delivered to your computer screens with a magic more potent than a muse's soft breath, and powered by the crafted lies of --

Finally you ask.

Who am I?

What am I?

There are better things with which to expend your brainpower. Perhaps the answer will come to you with time. But I doubt it. In this world, there is nothing more magical than untruths, and untruths are all you will find in your search.

But I digress.

Food is dangerous. Remember this.

If you don't, things may grow ugly fast. And there might be another charred corpse drifting through this cold carnival soon. So, step up to the booth, give the wheel a twirl, and let your infinite happiness begin. Understand that if you do not worry, there will not be anything left to worry about.

Profiling:

• Classic Genres: Fiction primarily, but with a bias towards science fantasy (straying more towards the fantasy side of things, so not too much hard science fiction)
• Writing Style: I'll come out and say that it's odd and changes from piece to piece. Tone depends on the current PoV, and neither will I limit my use of words nor will I be more verbose than necessary. I'm a great fanatic when it comes to allusion, so there will be references scattered about.