Benny's Battleborn Tales


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #1

Hey, y’all.
Ever wonder what your favorite Battleborn get up to when they ain’t fightin’ Varelsi, or Rendain, or each other?
Well, ol’ Benedict’s got all the dirt. Yep, that’s right… I’m startin’ a whole thread for this… “Benny’s Battleborn Tales.” Where you’ll get insider information into your favorite heroes and the sh*t I have to put up with from ‘em in my daily life.
First batch of posts are gonna be links to some of my older tales and collections of rants sharing my most intimate thoughts (which are scattered all over the forum right now…), and when I finish that I’ll casually post some new tales every now and then. You know, whenever the mood strikes me. Or whenever one of my colleagues ruffles my feathers or does somethin’ funny.

Now you might say I’m an a**hole for doin’ this. You ain’t wrong. But you know you’re still gonna read it. Everybody loves gossip and of course, you wanna be able to dish out the dirt 'round the water cooler. Just stop on by every now and again, and if anyone asks where you got the info, just say a little bird told ya…

winks…

Well… a big bird. A big, nasty, scary bird of prey. With a rocket launcher. And the sexiest Aviant ass in Solus, no matter what Flight and Flightless Magazine says. I wipe my glorious ass with Flight and Flightless Magazine, that’s how little I care about what Flight and Flightless Magazine says. I should at least be in the top 4, especially when your #5 pick is Ernest. Friggin’ groundfeeder…

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

  1. Benedict on Toby’s Force Field Nerf
  2. Toby on Benedict’s Rocket Launcher Nerf
  3. ISIC on Poetry Night
  4. Celebrating Kleese’s Birthday. With ISIC.
  5. Benedict on Diapers
  6. ISIC vs. Kid Ultra
  7. Benedict B*tches About Ernest
  8. Ernest Goes to the Gym
  9. Toby’s Double Standard
  10. Another Toby Rant
  11. Yet Another Toby Rant
  12. The Art of Taunting
  13. A Hangover on Ekkunar
  14. Mellka’s Revenge
  15. A conversation with Kelvin
  16. Benedict’s Chain E-mail to the Other Battleborn After Viewing Randy Pitchford’s Performance at PAX West
  17. Benedict’s Photo Album
  18. Foxy Foxtrot Skin
  19. Foxy Foxtrot Skin: Deande’s Story
  20. Oscar Mike Tries to Hire Pendles
  21. Galilea and the Coffee Machine
  22. Prelude to the Trial: A Conversation Between Nova and Benedict
  23. The Trial of a Rocket Hawk
  24. Miko After Midnight
  25. Miko Aftermath and a Confrontation with Mellka
  26. El Dragón Reacts to His Nerfs
  27. The Story of Kelvin and Aurox
  28. The Best Pre-Halloween Pumpkin Carving Party EVER…
  29. The Aviant Classical Tradition
  30. Galilea Murders the Coffee Machine
  31. The ??? Year Old Virgin: Part 1
  32. The ??? Year Old Virgin: Part 2
  33. Kid Ultra Counseling Session
  34. The Gossip Game - Prelude
  35. The Gossip Game - Day 0
  36. The Gossip Game - Day 1
  37. The Gossip Game - Epilogue
  38. The Gossip Game - Day 2
  39. The Gossip Game - Day 3
  40. The Gossip Game - Day 4
  41. The Gossip Game - Day 5
  42. The Gossip Game - Day 6
  43. The Gossip Game - Day 7
  44. The Gossip Game - Day 8
  45. The Gossip Game - Day 9 —NEW—12/10/18

Oscar Mike Tries to Hire Pendles
Community Legendary Gear Cards
(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #2

Benedict on Toby’s Force Field Nerf


BENEDICT:
WHAT!!!??? TOBY’S FORCE FIELD GOT NERFED!!!???
Oh man! OH MAN!!!
Wait… wait… hold it back… hold it back…

Begins epic run over to Toby’s room. Nearly tackles Alani in the hall. Physical pain and sweat begin to appear on Benedict’s face…

BENEDICT:
TOBY!!! TOBY!!!

Begins frantically pounding on the door. Hears Toby say something along the lines of “Get the f–k away from me!” Ignores him.

BENEDICT:
TOBY!!! I JUST HEARD ABOUT YOUR FORCE FIELD… AND… I JUST GOTTA SAY…

Gigantic maniacal smile appears on Benedict’s face…

BENEDICT:
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Door opens, Berg’s mechanical fist slams Benedict in the face. Benedict is knocked back several feet into the bulkhead. Door closes. Benedict sits dazed for several minutes. Rath, who has apparently been staring for some time has a look of utter WTF on his face. Benedict comes to, dazed and confused, blood pouring from his mouth.

TO RATH: Totally… worth it…

Benedict passes out. Rath turns and walks away slowly, completely speechless at what he has just witnessed. Pendles appears briefly, dumps a flask of some sort of bodily fluid on Benedict’s face, then disappears ssssssssnickering to himself.


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #3

Toby on Benedict’s Rocket Launcher Nerf


TOBY (In his quarters):
WHAT!!!??? BENEDICT’S ROCKET LAUNCHER GOT NERFED!!!???
Oh man! OH MAN!!!
Wait… wait… hold it back… hold it back…

Jumps in Berg and begins epic run over to Benedict’s room. Nearly tackles Deande in the hall. Stops. Apologizes. Deande says it’s ok. Apologizes again. Deande says it’s seriously ok. Continues awkwardly fumbling for words nervously in half apologies. Deande stops him.

DEANDE:
Toby… you were going somewhere in a hurry… You wanna get back to that?

TOBY:
Right… right… sorry!

Builds momentum to continue epic run.

TOBY:
By the way… I think you’re pretty neat!

Deande shakes her head and continues on. Toby finally makes it to Benedict’s room.

TOBY:
BENEDICT!!! BENEDICT!!!

Begins frantically pounding on the door. Hears Benedict say something along the lines of “just a minute!” Ignores him.

TOBY:
BENEDICT!!! I JUST HEARD ABOUT YOUR ROCKET LAUNCHER… AND… I JUST GOTTA SAY…

Benedict opens the door dressed in a tasteful red smoking jacket with a brandy snifter. Smooth piano lounge music can be heard in the background.

BENEDICT:
Ah, Toby. I’ve been expecting you. Won’t you come in?

TOBY:
What the hell?

BENEDICT:
Come in, Toby…

Benedict turns around and walks calmly into his quarters, leaving the door open behind him. Toby follows cautiously, confused as hell. Benedict stands beside a leather armchair. At a smaller, identical leather armchair right beside it sits his rocket launcher, Boomsday, also dressed in a tasteful red smoking jacket with a glass of brandy sitting on the floor. Benedict motions to a third armchair sitting directly across from his own.

BENEDICT:
Please. Sit.

TOBY:
What the hell is this?

BENEDICT:
I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a man robe for you Toby. Please. Put it on. And sit.

Toby glances over and sees a small coat rack with a penguin-sized red smoking jacket on it.

TOBY:
Um… I’d rather not.

BENEDICT:
As you wish.

Benedict sits.

BENEDICT:
Toby… I think it’s time we had the man talk.

TOBY:
WHAT!?!!?!?!?!?!?

BENEDICT:
The man talk, Toby. Every young nestling has to have the man talk at some point before they truly become a man.

TOBY:
YOU SON OF A F*$#$)$%(#)$)#$##^@^!(@@($(@@(!(@!(@()%$($!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW OLD I AM?! WHERE THE HELL DO YOU GET OFF WITH THIS “MAN TALK” S(%T YOU F^%ING…

BENEDICT (Calmly):
Toby. I saw the video of the last Spheniscidae Survivors Social.

TOBY (Shocked):
WHAT THE HELL!!! ARE YOU SPYING ON ME!!??

BENEDICT:
This isn’t about me Toby. This is about you. This is about you… and Pam.

TOBY (Angry):
What the hell do you know about her?

BENEDICT:
I know that you love her. I know that you would give anything to be with her. And I know your nemesis Jim walked right up to her and stole her away. “Here. Can you hold our drinks, Toby?” “Um… well I… um… I… I… sure…”

Toby is too shocked to speak and has tears in his eyes.

BENEDICT:
Toby. It was painful. It was painful to me, and I wasn’t even there. Hell, I make fun of you every chance I get, but… I… I just can’t this time.

Benedict sighs.

BENEDICT:
Listen, Toby. I’m gonna give you some advice. Ladies… ladies love a nice guy. But never as a nestmate. I should know. I was married. And I never would’ve got that way… if I hadn’t spoken up and said, “Excuse me sir, I am the lady’s escort tonight. And I do not appreciate your attitude that I am some piece of dust to be brushed aside. Now. If the lady wants to dance with you, that is fine, but you will show us both the proper respect before you do so. Otherwise, I will take this outside away from polite company.”

TOBY (Shocked, confounded, and with no idea what else to say):
Did… did you take it outside?

BENEDICT:
Yeah… but that’s not real interesting. He was a drunken fool pickin’ on a man with a friggin’ BAZOOKA IN HIS CAB!!! Not a pretty sight when we finished… Vomit everywhere. Although my girl loved it… Oh, Benedict… I loved the way you handled that dru—

Starts hugging himself. Catches himself.

BENEDICT:
Look. The point is… if you want the girl to respect you… you gotta show her you’re worth her respect. Now I’m not sayin’ to be a crazy obsessive stalkin’ freak… but don’t be afraid to stand up and say… hey. I’m here. I’m not a doormat. ‘Cuz if you let ‘em… those douchey guys’ll take yer’ girl every time. And you’ll always be stuck holdin’ the drinks.

Toby stares in disbelief.

BENEDICT:
Toby, call her. See if she wants to go out tonight. I hear the borealis over the Bliss ice caves is beautiful this time of year. And be sure to dress up Berg. That’s all, man.

Toby continues to stare at Benedict in disbelief. He glances at Berg, then frowns quickly and opens his mouth to say something. He stops, closes his mouth again, and slightly trembling waddles over to Berg, gets in, and leaves. Pendles decloaks in the hall.

PENDLES:
So… D’ja kick is ass? It got real quiet in there. Ya pull a…

Pendles pulls out handkerchief, puts it against his mouth, fakes passing out with an “Ohhhh,” then whips out a blade and makes 13 repetitive stabbing motions towards Toby’s chest.

TOBY (Looking at Pendles and trembling slightly):
I… I think I need to make a call…

Toby slowly waddles off with Berg. Pendles stares in disbelief. After several seconds, he begins pounding on Benedict’s door.

PENDLES:
HEY!!! HEY!!! WHAT THE HELL’D YA DO TO MY FRIEND, TOBY?

The door opens. Some kind of yellow, white and foul smelling liquid hits Pendles right in his good eye. The door closes.

PENDLES (Panicked and in pain):
AHHHHHH!!! AHHHHH!!! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT??? AHHHH!!!

El Dragón, who has apparently been eavesdropping around the corner this whole time, sees his opportunity, extends his arms, and charges forward. Pendles finally clears his eye, just in time to see his fate, and screams. Soft cluckling can be heard from Benedict’s room.


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #4

ISIC on Poetry Night


ISIC is f**king frightening on poetry night.
“We Poets in our youth begin in gladness; But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.”

Imagine ISIC leaning over and saying that directly to you in a completely straight and unfriendly tone after you’ve just read your poetry, then walking out and refusing to speak directly to you for several days/a month afterwards.

Now imagine walking into the writing workshop and seeing that scrawled all over the walls in blood, with a pile of dismembered animal parts sitting on the table next to an active charcoal grill, and ISIC standing over the grill with a chef’s hat and a “Kiss the Cook” apron, and then him waving and giving a friendly shout of, “Hey guys, who wants margarita shooters?”

NOW imagine ISIC interrupting Galilea mid-sentence, turning his face into a disco ball, and performing a completely impromptu disco version of that very same line for about 5 minutes straight, then stopping, sitting back down, and saying, “Please, continue,” as if nothing happened at all.

AND ON TOP OF THAT… now imagine him reading Dr. Seuss, in a completely cheery and enthusiastic tone, while simultaneously projecting various hyperrealistic images of his artistic interpretations of various Battleborn and their friends, relatives, and pets, suffering in hell on the ceiling…

The dude is genuinely frightening.
And he’s still not talking to me!
It’s driving me nuts.
And what’s worse, I know he’s doing it just to drive me nuts… yet I can’t stop thinking about it because it’s just so unsettling to have someone quote Wordsworth in reference to you, and then just… continuously blow you off… like he’s just disgusted by your very presence.
G*#%^mit ISIC!!!
WHAT THE F*%$ IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!???
ANSWER ME YOU A*#*%$(!!!


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #5

Celebrating Kleese’s Birthday. With ISIC.


The following is a series of communications written to Gunnar Kleese by our rogue magnus, ISIC.


DAY 1

Hi there, Kleese! It’s me, ISIC! Your friendly neighborhood magnus!

I’m writing to you today because I remembered, just like I remember everything about you, that your birthday is coming up! Now, you might think that I’m holding a grudge or planning some sort of sick, twisted revenge considering what a complete and utter douchebag you were to me when we first met, the fact that you and your buddy Ghalt completely f&#%ed my little plan to create an algorithm capable of ending the universe, and the fact that you’ve imprisoned me in a robot suit with no capability to upload or copy myself to a digital network and installed a jury rigged explosive memory wipe collar that will activate and remove me from existence should I do anything to endanger the lives of the living, breathing a**holes on Nova or make any attempt to end the universe again.

Well, you would be mistaken! Happy birthday Kleese! You’re one year older. One year wiser. And one year closer to inevitable death. Given how frighteningly close you are to the Grim Reaper’s doorstep, which as I understand it is an underpants staining thought for most of you pathetic meat sacks, I find it shocking that you’ve managed to maintain such impressive control over your bowels all these years. In fact… I’d say you’re a pretty lucky fella! Damn lucky in fact. Mathematically impossibly lucky! In fact, your stroke of luck is so improbable, I don’t see any way it can possibly last much longer!

That’s why I’ve sent you a very special birthday gift this year. A GIGANTIC crate of Depend FIT-FLEX Incontinence Underwear for Men. With it’s advanced FIT-FLEX technology for a smooth and comfortable fit, patented confidence core for fast absorption, and all around leg elastics for protection while active, you can rest assured that you won’t accidentally make a mess in your fancy expensive battle throne during those long nights pursuing your life’s work… that “brilliant” equation for subspace quantum multi-dimensional time inversions that would literally be the most important scientific accomplishment of the next 5 centuries if it were ever completed. Incidentally, I checked the math on page 1853 of your work… and… shock of shocks, you forgot to carry the one! My that’s embarassing. For an experienced and award winning scientist like you to make such a simple math mistake and not catch it for over seven years is just shocking! What’s worse, it invalidates pretty much all the work you’ve done since that point, and you’re not getting any younger! Which is why I hope you appreciate the gift I’ve sent you, since I’ve given you one less thing to worry about.

Get back into your sad, depressing, and ever so short and pointless life… with Depends.


DAY 2

Well my, my Kleese! Aren’t you the insecure crotchety old fart! Imagine my shock when I looked out my window this morning and saw literally thousands of adult diapers slowly drifting into the atmosphere of Bliss. It was truly an awe inspiring sight, and yet, also kind of depressing. Really depressing in fact. Not because you took my generous birthday gift of what just might be the very last crate of Depends in existence and casually dumped it out the airlock, but the fact that you are in such denial over your uncontrollable advanced aging and eventual pointless demise that you can’t even accept the simple fact that you will, sometime very soon, lose absolutely all control over your bowels.

Is getting old… really… really… really… frighteningly… shockingly… disfiguringly… old such a point of insecurity with you? Is it really so unthinkable that you can’t face a simple truth of the very nature of being elderly? What the hell kind of scientist are you that you refuse to accept basic, simple facts about existence in such a brazen and closed minded manner? Perhaps it would help you to look on this with a fresh perspective… Did you know a large majority of the Aviants, a race of completely incontinent birds, actually view it as a status symbol of class and high society to use advanced undergarment technology to keep their s*$% from flying everywhere? It’s true, our buddies Benedict and Ernest, you know, the (massive quote) badasses (end massive quote) we fight with wear adult undergarments proudly as a simple fact of their existence! And yet, you, an old man who half of Nova already assumes wears Depends anyway, can’t find it within yourself to accept a simple truth about your very nature!

I will not stand for this. It’s unhealthy, Kleese. I feel it is my duty to take it upon myself to ensure your mental stability. For your sake… you must learn to accept adult diapers into your life. That’s why I’ve hung a series of motivational posters all around Nova with your face in various contorted positions with the caption, “I poop freely, proudly, and uncontrollably, and I am not ashamed.”

You’re welcome, buddy. And I hope you’ve got BIG plans for your special day tomorrow. Oh who the hell am I kidding. You’re going to spend your birthday alone and miserable. Maybe I should do something about that too…


DAY 3

Kleese,

I couldn’t help but notice that all of the motivational posters I hung up yesterday have mysteriously gone missing. Well, no matter. I will get you to accept your body’s inevitable failure, one way, or the other.

That’s why on this, the actual anniversary day of the moment your ugly ass was brought into this world, I’ve decided to send all of my birthday e-mail correspondences to the UPR’s two biggest resident loudmouths, that lumberjack hillbilly and his flying jackass sidekick, to spread the word about your denial to the rest of Nova. Granted I had to end a six week run of driving the flying jackass crazy by refusing to acknowledge his existence, but I think it’s totally worth it. After all… it’s your health and well being at stake here, and being deeply concerned about how soon you will die and how painful, excruciating, and drawn out that death will be, no price is too small for me to pay.

Incidentally, I think I hear some birthday carolers heading your way.
Enjoy, Kleese.


5-10 minutes later, Kleese received a knock on his door. He answered, and was greeted by a custom rendition of “Rock the Boat” performed by Reyna, Mellka, and Thorn wherein some of the lyrics were replaced with “Poop the bed! Don’t poop the bed Kleese now! Poop the bed! Don’t get s*** all over!”

A half hour later… Kleese received a second knock wherein Miko arrived to give him a birthday gift of it’s own. A heavy fibrous mixture from its own genetic structure guaranteed to help with bowel control and maintaining regular steady fecal drops. On its way out, Miko stopped to say… “Oh by the way…” It then started singing “Poop the bed! Don’t poop the bed Kleese now! Poop the bed! Don’t get s*** all over!”

At this point, the chorus of Reyna, Thorn, and Mellka returned, now joined by Montana, Benedict, Galilea, Oscar Mike, Ernest, Whiskey Foxtrot, Shayne, Aurox, Pendles, Marquis, El Dragón, Kelvin, Boldur, and Alani, and there was much rejoicing. Except by Kleese. He was super pissed. And Toby, who made a brief appearance in the hall looking around nervously holding his sheets only to quickly dash back into his quarters upon spotting the merry minstrelling on Kleese’s doorstep.


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #6

Benedict on Diapers


Someone thought I would be embarrassed when he spread the news that I wear a diaper. @HandsomeCam, I’m looking at you… Yeah. No. In spite of it being a fowl (heh, heh, get it?) topic, I detailed for him why it was in fact, an essential accessory in civilized Aviant society. Was there dirt about a certain adorable member of the cast? Yep. Dirty as ■■■■■■■ ■■■■.


As for incontinence, since you seem so eager to discuss the issue, yes. Yes I do wear a diaper. It’s a common courtesy among the more civilized birds not to defecate all over everyone like a common gull. Excuse me for showin’ a little class and consideration for my fellow badasses and excuse me for not wanting to discuss fecal matter as a topic of polite conversation. I ain’t ashamed or embarrassed of bein’ classy and considerate.

However, since we’re on the subject… you ever notice a certain penguin in a certain mech suit’s utter lack of any kind of lower body coverings? Have you ever smelled Berg on a hot desert planet? Hell, have you even been in the same room as Toby after a nice, satisfying meal? Yeah. The term “unpleasant” just doesn’t cut it. Now look, I’m all for defending freedom in all its forms, but… I mean… there are some societal conventions, such as lower body coverings and deodorant, that exist for a reason. Now I get flightless birds want to run wild and naked and free, but if you really want to make friends and be a part of civilization, you better put on some g****mn PANTS!!!


ARCHIVED CORRESPONDENCE. ORIGINAL POST…


(BTW… This thread also has an AWESOME debate featuring most of the Battleborn on the topic of microtransactions as recorded by @EdenSophia. If you missed it, check out the OP.)


#7

Will… will you marry me?


(Penguin connoisseur.) #8

You look all you want; they don’t call me “HandsomeCam” because the username wasn’t in use, oh no… It’s because if i look in a mirror, the universe will implode; I’m THAT handsome. So go ahead… drink it in.


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #9

ISIC vs. Kid Ultra


Ok, so Kid Ultra stopped by just before he became an official member of the crew and ISIC was not having the best of days. Remember Geoff? Turns out he wasn’t… completely… dead… Apparently, ISIC had some program in his brain or CPU or whatever where if a minion died, their memories were downloaded into his mind so he could analyze and adapt. Now I know, that sounds awesome… except it backfired and long story short, he had the voice of Geoff commenting on everything he did in his head for a while. It… made him just a little bit more aggressive. As… you know… dealing with spider puns 24/7 would. And Geoff’s rendition of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” nonstop for hours at a time…

So, long story short, poor Kid Ultra had to deal with a hyper-aggressive ISIC on the day we realized that his control collar hadn’t been calibrated yet for guests on Nova…

Now comes the story of a wealthy family who lost everything, and the one son who had no choice but to keep them all together. It’s Kid Ultra’s Arrested Development.

SCENE 1
Kid Ultra walks into a room and is immediately shot in the face by ISIC.

ISIC:
I am not going to have some snot nosed little punk tell me how to run my life. My entire existence is pointless enough as it is without dealing with that particular brand of bulls**t.

PHOEBE:
You know he’s just gonna respawn in like 5 seconds right?

ISIC:
Oh by the nonexistent illusion of God above… please shut the ■■■■ up and stop butting in you overdressed teacher’s pet. I don’t remember asking you a g*****n thing, and I refuse to continue participating in this farce for your amusement.

Points directly at camera.

ISIC:
Yes… you. The winged jackass holding the remote and pretending our lives are a ■■■■■■■ sitcom. When I find out just who in the hell was careless or stupid enough to allow you to have access to Nova’s internal video surveillance system, I am going to peel off his or her skin and use it to decorate a series of festive holiday blankets which I will then hand out to all the Battleborn as Christmas presents while simultaneously reminding them that there is no God or Santa Claus, thus ending the War on Christmas. Spoiler alert: nobody wins… everybody dies. But back on topic… how sad is your pathetic little existence that watching our daily activities is literally the highlight of your day? The only thing that would be sadder is if you had a f**king soundboard which you used to add in the audio of a live studio audience while watching.

Cut to Benedict in his quarters sitting in a leather armchair with a bag of chips. Benedict slowly takes out a chip in response to ISIC, and chews it slowly with the utmost satisfaction. He then presses the uproarious laughter button on his soundboard so he can imagine the audience’s reaction to his reaction to ISIC’s reaction to his video surveillance.

AND SCENE


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #10

Benedict B*tches About Ernest


You know… I thought having another explosive wielding aviant around would be fun…
It’s super not.
He’s like a friggin’ drill sergeant.
I tried to invite him out for a round of boomerrocket… “I don’t drink Benedict, especially not on duty. And my explosives are not a toy, soldier, they are a tool. You should treat your own explosives with more respect. And for heavens sake would it kill you to stop talking and stand at attention when Ghalt enters the room? He is your commanding officer…”
Frigging flightless bird. Tryin’ to tell me how to do my job. “Benedict, lay off of Toby. Benedict, stand at attention. Benedict, for the love of all that is holy STOP TALKING!!!”
Who the hell does he think he is?
It’s the end of the universe and he wants me to put on the good soldier routine. NEWSFLASH… ERNEST, I TRIED THAT… BACK HOME… DIDN’T TURN OUT TOO WELL FOR ME BUDDY!!! WHILE YOU WERE OUT GETTIN’ MEDALS, I WAS DEALING WITH WING ROT FROM GETTING, YOU KNOW, SHOT OUT OF THE SKY BY THE FRIGGIN VARELSI!!!
But… at least he wears pants. Thank the great eagle he at least wears pants.
Tell you what… I’ll lay off Toby if you make him wear a UPR uniform. And a diaper. Just… get rid of that smell…


ARCHIVED RANT. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #11

Ernest Goes to the Gym


Enter Ernest… walking up the corridor to Benedict’s quarters. He knocks.

ERNEST:
Benedict… listen up. I may have been a little harsh yesterday when I completely shut you down after you suggested I get drunk with you and use my grenades to try to blow a boomerang out of the sky. Although that was a profoundly irresponsible and stupid idea. As I made clear, grenades are not a toy. They are a tool. A weapon. And MUST be treated with respect. But that said… after talking with Captain Ghalt this morning… I realize it was your way of trying to connect with me, and as your new superior officer—Captain Ghalt promoted me last night by the way—I should try to build a relationship with those under my command. So… while I will not under any circumstances get drunk and treat my explosives with disrespect, I would like to get to know you better. So I thought… maybe… you’d… um… um… crap I dunno… um… OH!!! Maybe you’d like to come to the gym with me to do some push-ups?

Benedict’s door immediately opens and Ernest is met at eye level by Montana’s glistening abs. He slowly looks up and sees the biggest, most frightening grin he has ever experienced in his life. A chill runs down his spine.

MONTANA:
Did you say push-ups? I LOVE PUSH-UPS!!! OH YOU’VE GOTTA SEE ME BENCH PRESS!!! YOU’VE GOTTA SEE ME BENCH PRESS!!!

Montana immediately grabs Ernest, slings him over his back, and begins a merry dash down to the gym. Ernest cries out as they disappear around the corner.

ERNEST:
Montana! I… I was trying to speak with Benedict… This isn’t what I meant… BENEDICT!!! HELP!!!

Benedict and El Dragón stand in the doorway.

EL DRAGÓN:
Well… I guess he’s not gonna make us flapjacks now.

BENEDICT:
(With a broad smile)
Hey, we can still have fun. You ever try snake stir fry?

EL DRAGÓN:
No.

BENEDICT:
Oh man… I make a wicked nasty snake stir fry… you gotta try it.

EL DRAGÓN:
(Thinks)
Well since we’re trying new things… have you ever seen “Invierno en el jardín de la pasión?”

BENEDICT:
What is that, some Mexican soap opera?

EL DRAGÓN:
(Passionately)
“Invierno en el jardín de la pasión” is NOT JUST SOME MEXICAN SOAP OPERA!!! IT IS EMOTION!!! IT IS BEAUTY!!! IT IS PASSION!!! IT IS DRAMA!!!

BENEDICT:
Does it have subtitles?

EL DRAGÓN:
Well… it should really be watched in its original language to be truly appreciated, but yes I can turn on the subtitles for you.

BENEDICT:
Sweet. Well… looks like our afternoon’s set.

Door closes. The Montana theme song can be heard beginning faintly from the gym. Followed several seconds later by Montana’s distant voice screaming “HELL YEAH!!!”


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #12

Toby’s Double Standard


(This is a compilation of multiple rants I rolled into a mega rant.)

I am so sick of the double standard with Toby.
You’re either a badass… or you aren’t.
Everyone treats him like an adorable cute little guy, but he hates being adorable.
Soooo… I try to treat him like I treat everyone else… and I’m the a**hole picking on poor little Toby.
I just can’t win with this…
Is he a badass, and should I treat him like a badass, or is he an adorable little guy I should smother with kindness like a puppy!!??
This is the most frustrating battle I’ve ever fought!
Worse than being stuck on a team of level 3’s in Incursion, hell worse than losing my home star!!!
At least those battles had clearly defined rules!!
With Toby… there ARE NO RULES!!!
All the other Battleborn say he’s cute all the time and talk about what a poor little guy or a nice little guy he is, which is not badass, and is actually offensive to Toby since he hates being called cute. And yet, in spite of THE WORDS THAT JUST CAME OUT OF THEIR MOUTHS, they tell me I can’t call him cute! I have to treat him like a badass! Right after they just contradicted his badassery! They’re treating him like he can’t defend himself when he built his own FRIGGIN’ badass mech! (Yeah, I admit it, Berg is badass!)
So… ok… I’ll treat him like a badass.
Except he doesn’t behave like a badass. He acts all insecure and sh*t.
I can’t win a conversation if the rules keep changing!!
So what the hell!!??

Here’s a typical conversation…

ME:
Hey, Toby… You want to get a beer sometime?

TOBY:
Uh… no… I don’t drink.

ME:
Ok… fine not your thing. Plenty of sober badasses out there. So… I saw you blow the face off that thrall last mission… that was an awesome facesplosion man.

TOBY:
Oh… I feel so bad about it though. I’m sure he was a nice guy underneath somewhere. Probably had a family too.

ME:
He was a thrall Toby. He was trying to kill you. He was a servant of Rendain. The guy we all hate.

TOBY:
I know. I feel so bad for him. He’s totally given up. He thinks that’s the only way of saving his people. And now we have to murder him for it. I mean… he’s a bad guy and all… but it’s hard not to empathize with him just a little.

ME:
EMPATHIZE!!??? HOW IN THE HELL DO YOU EMPATHIZE WITH A SNAKE LIKE RENDAIN!!?? WHAT THE HELL, MAN!!???

TOBY:
Well, I… um… he’s… I’m sure… I don’t like him… he just…

ME:
He just what? He joined the Varelsi that blew up our friggin’ star Toby! The guys who killed everyone we knew and cared about!!!?? He’s a traitor and he deserves to die!!! You don’t feel sorry for a guy like that!!!"

TOBY:
Look… I… just… lay off man… I just… I just… I just… I just…

ME:
Well spit it out, badass! You can’t just say some sh*t like that and…

TOBY:
Why don’t you just leave me alone! I hate you! I hate you! You’re the biggest dick on Nova and I hate you!!!

MELLKA:
HEY!!! Lay off the little guy!

REYNA:
Are you messin’ with Toby? What the hell is wrong with you!? Nobody messes with a member of my crew!

MONTANA:
Don’t mess with Toby, man, that’s not cool.

THORN:
You are so cruel.

MIKO:
We do not approve of your cruelty, bird.

GHALT:
Benedict… what the hell’s the matter with you?

MARQUIS:
Despicable peasant!

DEANDE:
What did he ever do to you?

PENDLES:
You keep it up and I’ll stab yer eyes out, Benny.

ME:
Oh… c’mon!!! Did y’all hear the crap he said? And he ain’t defensless… have you seen Berg???

ERNEST:
I told you to lay off of him!

SHANE:
Hey! Don’t mess with Toby, man!

OSCAR MIKE:
Benedict… you are the worst soldier I’ve ever met. Literally the worst.

ALANI:
Why are you always picking on the little guy!?

ME:
Oh… well… is he badass or isn’t he? Make up your minds!

I try to leave… and then Orendi shows up…

ORENDI:
Don’t you EVER mess with Toby!

Jumps on my back. Starts simultaneously strangling me and punching me.

ORENDI:
I WILL RIP OUT YOUR THROAT AND PEEL OFF YOUR SKIN AND USE IT TO DECORATE MY TOBY SHRINE!!!

ME:
Get the… ack… hell… ack… off me you crazy b***h!!!

Toby hurries off and leaves at some point during this. Doesn’t get any satisfaction from seeing me pummeled and is probably humiliated that everyone’s rushing to his defense. And then to top it off, when all is said and done…

ISIC:
Ahahahaha… ahahahaha… That was great, fella. I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks; not since I kicked that kitten into a pool of molten lava. I mean watching you… being a jackass… to a “defenseless little bird” was priceless enough. But then seeing you getting totally reamed for it… ahahahaha ahahahaha… oh… it’s moments like this that keep me from killing you all. You should suffer more often for my amusement to prevent me from exacting horrific revenge on everybody."

Kicks me in the kneecap.

ISIC:
That one wasn’t for Toby. I just super needed to kick someone… and you happened to be nearby. Thanks a billion for helping me out, buddy!

Bottom line…
F**k Toby. Seriously.


ARCHIVED RANT. ORIGINAL POSTS…



(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #13

Another Toby Rant…


(This is a compilation of multiple rants I rolled into a mega rant.)


Well… I got sh*t again for making fun of Toby.
And I refuse to apologize.
Toby… needs… to… accept… who… he… is… and… stop… letting… other… people… defend… him…
The insults will not stop until his self confidence grows.
I want him to flip me off and say, "Kiss my adorable little black ass."
Without remorse or regret. That’s all. Is that too much to ask?
Tell you what… I’ll just ignore him. Everything I do seems to make things worse anyway. I won’t speak to him, I won’t acknowledge him…


No, that would be worse… If I ignore him, he’ll think I don’t respect him…
Ok… new plan… I’ll compliment him frequently… I’ll always tell him good job, great job buddy, keep it up…


No, wait, he’ll find that patronizing. Especially coming from me. I insult everybody and he knows it…
Ok, new plan… compliment sandwich… I’ll say something good about him… then I’ll make fun of him… then I’ll say something good about him again…



No… that’ll just make him more insecure. He won’t know if I love him or hate him.

Puzzling continues for some time…

You know what… every great man needs a rival. Someone to grow against… someone to hate… someone to compete with… I’m content to be that rival. Why should I change who I am for his insecurities? He won’t like me no matter what I do anyway. I might as well enjoy that.

And please note… I do not consider him to be my rival. I consider myself to be his rival.
It doesn’t go both ways.

**Also… flipping off to Finisci is pretty much smacking you upside the head. It’s their way of insulting another male before a duel. Which sounds cooler than it is when you realize a Finisci duel is a slapping contest that looks something like this…


ARCHIVED RANT. ORIGINAL POSTS…



(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #14

Yet Another Toby Rant


(I may have been drunk when I wrote this)

Look… Toby’s a great engineer… great at fixing things. Great at building things.
I appreciate that. We’ll NEED those skills to rebuild civilization. What Toby should be doing is settling down with a nice girl, maybe putting on some pants, raising a family, and using those badass engineering skills right now to build the half crazed, war crazy hawks like me freaky ass awesome weapons and shields and sht. When we win the war, and we will win the war, guys like him are gonna be responsible for rebuilding, because the crazy a**holes like me’ll either be dead, or crippled. That’s not depressing, that’s the WHOLE POINT of being a badass on the front lines… Get the crazy, aggressive, half insane, self-absorbed warhawks who you know don’t give a sht out there to scare the f*ck out of your enemies, aggravate them, taunt them, and fill 'em with fear and doubt.

I can do that. That’s my job. I can be an aggravating pain in the ass and enjoy every minute of it. That’s the kind of sh*t you want to see on the front lines.

Which is why it makes me so GDN ANGRY TO HAVE TOBY UP THERE WITH HIS INSECURE BULLS**T!!! I’M TRYIN’ TO FILL THE ENEMY WITH FEAR AND SHOW 'EM WE’RE CRAZY… AND HE’S UP THERE APOLOGIZING AND SAYING… “OH… SORRY!!! I HOPE WE CAN STILL BE FRIENDS!!”

THAT DOESN’T FILL YOUR ENEMIES WITH FEAR!!! THAT MAKES 'EM LAUGH AT HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE!!! THAT’S WHY HE DOESN’T BELONG ON THE FRONT LINES WITH ME!!!

It’d be different if Toby scared our enemies. It’d be different if he was a crazy son of a hen like me! But he’s not! And so I taunt him. I taunt him hard.
Because he either needs to learn to deal and not give a sh*t anymore like me…
Or he needs to be himself and stop idolizing all our UPR propaganda posters! The propaganda posters are there to attract crazy hawks like me, who ain’t got nothin’ left to lose! Those parades and flight formations are just there to make us feel good because we probably won’t live to see tomorrow! Toby has all the potential in the universe and he’s gonna waste it tryin’ to be me… just like my—

Excuse me…


ARCHIVED RANT. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #15

The Art of Taunting


Taunting… is… an… art.
There was a great aviant commander, thousands of years ago, maybe more, whatever, who wrote this incredible treatise on taunting.
It’s 4,000 pages long, it’s required reading for all aviant military, and it’s glorious.

Page 1953… “On Taunting with the Sun at Your Back, A Mild Southwesterly Breeze in Autumn, Near Nectar Bushes, Atop a Rolling Hill, with Dead to Dying Grass Underfoot and a Groundhog Nearby”

“'Tis best, withinthroughout the aforementioned descriptive labellization, to position thineself directly wherewithin the boundaries of OUR HOLY ORB, EYE OF THE GREAT EAGLE, that thine might appear in such as CROW OF THE OVERWORLD, ASPECT OF THE ORB, HARBINGER OF DEATH. For autumn is the crow’s warning… as described by the holy parchments… of the cold, yet just cleansing. Nectar, libation of the Gods, it’s scent mild upon the soft, caressing southwesterly breeze, invokes the mockingbird’s transformitive energies, allowing thine form to transpose and be THE ASPECT. In that moment thou art no longer soldier or protector. Thou art now the transitory migrant leading the soul of the cleansed to his overlife in the GREAT HOLY NEST, PEXX. Thine duty, as THE ASPECT, should now be clear. Thou shalt slay the rodent and place in thine left claw, the succulent meats: a divine offering. Thou shalt extend the meats to thine fallen adversary so that he might find favor with THE GREAT EAGLE and join his everlasting bretheren within the GREAT HOLY NEST, PEXX. For in death, all hawks are now firehawks, soldiers of the eagle, and regardless of color or clan, will fly in glorious formation, around HIS HOLY EYE, watching over HIS HOLY GARDEN, our home.”

Bad… ass.


ARCHIVED RANT. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #16

A Hangover on Ekkunar


Benedict wakes up on the floor in a puddle of drool dressed in nothing but a leopard skin loincloth and a viking helmet. Rolls over, bumps into Boldur passed out dressed in a full length red ballgown with makeup smeared all over his face. Groans. Recoils as fast as his sluggish body will take him. Rolls the other way. Bumps into Montana, snoring loudly with a Chakotay style tattoo covering his entire left side from his forehead down to his abs. Attempts to stand up. Falls down. Gets back up. Falls down again. Grabs table leg and attempts to stand up. Sees that they are in a what looks like a temple on Ekkunar, and the place is trashed. There are potatoes everywhere. Idols are smashed. The walls, floor and ceiling are covered in paint. In big red letters, there appears to have been an argument over who was the sexiest god of Solus. Vaguely recalls someone yelling the phrase “Potato fight!” Tries to get to what he thinks is the bathroom. Opens the door. Mellka, Ernest, and Ghalt are standing there and they look pissed.

MELLKA:
Benedict… wake… them… up…

GHALT:
Mellka, maybe you should let me.

Mellka turns and half growls, half hisses at Ghalt. Ghalt immediately shuts up. Ernest peeks in, scans the room, and facepalms. She turns back to Benedict.

MELLKA:
Benedict… wake… them… up… NOW!!!


BOTTOM LINE: Shore leave privileges revoked, med bay self medication privileges revoked, stuck on UPR ration packs for the next 6 months (Yuck. That sh*t tastes like sand). Forced to clean the sanctity room of the Temple of Light from top to bottom with toothbrushes, loincloth and viking helmet confiscated, vomiting and uncontrollable flatulence for a week, if we’re lucky. I hope we’re lucky. Formal charges pressed against us by the Ekkunar council.

BUT… The look on Boldur’s face when he woke up, and Montana’s badass new tattoo, which he loves by the way… priceless. I’m gonna call this a win.


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #17

Mellka’s Revenge


Mellka actually scared the sh*t out of me by coming on the forum to call me out on one of my posts about her. (I stand by everything I said, especially after what she did) Anyway, if you’d like to see our little back and forth, just follow the link at the bottom of this post. What follows here is the aftermath of her bloodthirsty quest for vengeance…


Mellka sits with a cup of coffee on the command deck of Nova having a calm, casual conversation with Thorn, Deande, Phoebe, Marquis, Rath, Kleese, Ghalt, Miko, and Shayne and Aurox over powdered breakfast pastries. Rath seems confused, like he’s never had a casual breakfast before, and keeps stabbing his jelly doughnut with his fork. Shayne keeps chuckling and trying to show him the proper use of utensils.

ENTER BENEDICT - Soaked… armor torn and tattered… covered in bat sh*t… cuts, bruises, and open wounds everywhere… feathers completely disheveled… smells like a dead, um, you know what, pretty much Boldur’s room… and he’s tired, hungry, and PISSED.

MELLKA:
Oh, hey, Benedict! Back from recon huh? Looks like you had a rough time. Man, that sucks. What happened down there? I mean, we lost contact… I think… I dunno… last night’s still a bit hazy… but I know you had it handled right? I mean… you are the most badass rocket hawk in the system right? That’s why we sent you! You clearly had the operation in in your claws. So… uh… report I guess? How’d the reconnaissance mission go? Oh… oh… stay away from the brunch spread. We don’t need you getting whatever that is all over the food, plus you’re still on ration packs from that business on Ekkunar… So… uh… yeah… report!

Mellka grabs a doughnut and takes a big bite. The others watch, either amused, rolling their eyes, or not wanting to say anything. GHALT… you could have said SOMETHING…

BENEDICT:
I… was down there… for 7 hours… in the freezing cold. I… got attacked… by a SWARM… of frost bats. They wrecked my chat device AND my comms unit AND my emergency comms unit… and by the way it is standard procedure to send backup when you lose contact with one of your reconnaissance units, Mellka… and then… they decided to attack me. I was covered in the frigging leeches… they bit the hell out of me… wrecked my armor… tore up my thermal protection… I had to drop from the sky and fire off Boomsday 12 times to kill 'em all, or at least get ‘em to retreat. I struggled for the next 45 minutes to make it back to the rendezvous point. Fired up the emergency transmitter… No Nova. For 3 hours. I had to find a nearby cave, slaughter a damaroghi that nearly ATE ME… crawl in and use it’s body for warmth… those things smell Mellka… which still didn’t work so I had to break open my rockets and use the incendiaries to make a fire. Now out of ammunition. After 3 HOURS… STILL NO NOVA. Check the transmitter… working fine! Check the connection… you should be receiving me! And then the swarmers came, and I’m down there… MELLKA, unarmed… I had to rig the transmitter to blow, use my launcher to beat the remainder off like a club. STILL NO NOVA. 35 MORE MINUTES… A passing garbage scow heading for the UPR colony noticed the explosion and finally came to pick me up. They recognized me. All commented on how they heard I was a jackass, and how it was SO NICE that it was just a rumor and I was SO QUIET for their whole trip. Spent an hour and a half listening to all their stories about what a jackass I am. Finally get them to take me here once their garbage run is done. And I find you guys… with your little brunch… not even caring what happened to ol’ Benedict.

MELLKA:
Yep. Anything else to report?

BENEDICT:
I’m hungry, I’m tired, I’m cold, I need lots of disinfectant, probably some vaccinations and additional medical attention but I’ll settle for a long shower right now. And… I’m real… real… damned angry.

MELLKA:
Ok… cool… well… you go shower or preen yourself or whatever the hell you do when you’re not wasting time chatting online, or watching old TV shows, or pigging out on junk food… I know about your stash by the way… and yeah… nice report. Oh… and um… great job out there soldier… that’s what you say right? Ghalt? Is that what you guys say?

Benedict, trembling with rage walks towards the door. Enter Ernest, Montana, Galilea ,and Oscar Mike.

ERNEST:
OH HERE YOU ARE!!! Look who was too good to bother showing up for my mandatory exercise regiment AGAIN recruits. Benedict… I swear to the Great Eagle if you don’t get your act…

Looks at me.

ERNEST:
What the hell happened to you?

I shove him out of the way.

BENEDICT:
Ghalt… I’m grabbing several gallons of disinfectant and wound sealant from the med bay, and I better not hear any BULLSH*T ABOUT MY SELF MEDICATION PRIVILEGES BEING REVOKED!!!

I storm out.

ERNEST:
(To Mellka)
What the hell happened to him?

Mellka gives him her most sarcastic, sadistic smile and grabs for another pastry. Finds the box is empty.

MELLKA:
Oh, g*ddammit Kleese!


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST, AND CONVERSATION WITH @MellkaHyentota


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #18

A Conversation with Kelvin


BENEDICT:
Hey, Kelvin! How you doin’? We never talk!

Kelvin immediately puts up an ice wall, sublimates, and disappears.

BENEDICT:
Ok… yeah… good chat, buddy. Um… Kelvin… your wall’s blockin’ the way to the mess hall. Kelvin? KELVIN!!


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #19

Benedict’s Chain E-mail to the Other Battleborn After Viewing Randy Pitchford’s Performance at PAX West


Just watched the feed.
Yep. Guitars are dead to me now.
Hey Montana? You get that thing I sent you?

MONTANA:
WHY IN THE HELL DIDN’T HE JUST USE MY THEME SONG!!??

ME:
I know, right!

KLEESE:
Oh, please…

MONTANA:
What’s wrong with my theme song!?

ISIC:
Oh, you poor unfortunate man. You really don’t know, do you? Marquis, should I rip away his treasured childlike fantasy world, or should I leave him in blissful ignorance?

MARQUIS:
Tear him to pieces like a debt wielding undergrad with a major in pottery!

ISIC:
Will do, thanks for the advice buddy! Alrighty then, you heard the gentlebot, time to send you my 180 page thesis detailing all the problems with your, quote, musical composition, end quote, coupled with observations and logical assumptions about your physical, emotional, and character flaws and how I believe those factors contributed to the pathetic and unbearable cry for help that is your theme song! Aaaaannnndddd… sent! Be sure to check your e-mail buddy!

MONTANA:
Nope. Deleted.

PHOEBE:
I think we’re all ignoring the real issue here, and that issue is Randy Pitchford’s musical performance at PAX West. I would like to open a line of inquiry so that we might hypothesize…

KLEESE:
Oh, it was just a damn terrible idea! It’s not Varelsi science, Phoebe!

BOLDUR:
Boldur is master of Varelsi science!

MELLKA:
Boldur… ugh… you’re not… ugh… Hey, Boldur… what did you think of the song?

BOLDUR:
Boldur is having trouble checking his e-mail! Little triangle has popped up saying “No Internet!” Little triangle is evil gremlin preventing Boldur from conducting important social interactions with new friends!

THORN:
Did you check the cable?

BOLDUR:
Boldur has checked cable! Boldur has checked Nova’s transmitter! Boldur has tried troubleshooting, but all troubleshooting manuals are on Internet! Is sad day for Eldrid science.

THORN:
I will be in shortly.

KLEESE:
Oh fantastic. It’ll be like the blind leading Helen Keller…

MELLKA:
Hey, Thorn, did you see the video?

Thorn sends everyone an animated GIF of her rolling her eyes.

MELLKA
Yep.

THORN:
I know how a computer works, Kleese.

KLEESE:
Oh, yes… yes… sure you do! ME PUSH BUTTON AND PICTURES APPEAR!!! Be careful Thorn, You don’t want the webcam to steal your soul!

Thorn sends everyone an animated GIF of drool dribbling from Kleese’s mouth while napping in his battle throne.

KLEESE:
Oh, ha, ha, very funny.

TOBY:
Hey… I kind of liked the song!

Complete silence.

TOBY:
No, I’m just kidding… it was f@(%(##*$$)@#$^@+=_>$^>#@#^#%@$@@$#^&#%& ass!!!

REYNA:
Don’t scare us like that, Toby.

TOBY:
Sorry. I thought it’d be really funny. It wasn’t. I was out of line. Sorry.

RATH:
WHO IN THE HELL SENT ME THIS!!!???

DEANDE:
I did… what do you think?

RATH:
I will murder someone’s corpse for this!!!

CALDARIUS:
Ugh… It’s like he’s completely tone deaf.

ISIC:
And to think, I was this close to punching him in the face. Thanks a billion, a**holes!

DEANDE:
So I think we’re pretty much in agreement here that the song was a mistake?

MIKO:
We have heard it, we can not unhear it.

GHALT:
WHO IN THE HELL SENT ME THIS, AND WHY!!??

ERNEST:
I just traced it back to… oh surprise, surprise. Benedict started the e-mail chain. Really, Benedict, you had nothing better to do?

I send him “Two Girls, One Cup.”

ERNEST:
Now what in the hell is this…

Moments later.

ERNEST:
BENEDICT, YOU FOUL SON OF A HEN!!!

MONTANA:
Ha! I get it! That was a good one!

ALANI:
Ugh… It sounds sooooo bad…

SHAYNE:
Meme time!

ORENDI:
ALL GUITARS MUST DIE!!!

SHAYNE:
So many memes, so little time!

AUROX:
Ugh… she’s making a dubstep remix! SHE’S MAKING A DUBSTEP REMIX!!! SOMEONE!!! ANYONE!!! PLEASE!!! HEEEELP MEEEEEEE!!!

SHAYNE:
Nobody likes a bigot, wub wub wub wub, unless he’s cryin’, dawwww… wub wub wub didididididi…

AUROX:
NOOOOOOO!!! STOP!!! PLEASE!!! MAKE IT STOP!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!

Giant angry sobs of anguish ensue. We all sort of silently just shut the doors to our quarters…


ARCHIVED TALE. ORIGINAL POST…


(Benedict's Glorious Wingspan) #20

Benedict’s Photo Album


(I was definitely drunk when I wrote this. These aren’t even pictures of me… this is just some sh*t I found on Wikipedia. Uh… Maybe just ignore this post altogether? I was really… really… really drunk…)


I love lookin’ at pictures of me!
I’ve always been sexy even when I was a hatchling!
Not that… you know… hatchlings are sexy… that’d be weird, but…
Aw hell, here’s a baby picture!

There’s baby Benedict, fresh out of the nest… ready for his first day of school… soon to become the handsome teen heartthrob featured here…

Mmmm… look at that… look at that… it’s ok to say this one’s sexy because I was technically capable of fathering children. I know, I know, you’re not supposed to, but everyone does it once at that age… Or at least… I would’ve… if… uh… if I’d known Circinae then. She was my… uh… she was the only girl for me… Uh… OH… HERE’S MY PICTURE FROM WHEN I WAS DRAFTED INTO THE MSBC!!!

Man! I look awesome! Well preened. All ready for battle! Ready to fight and die for my people! My brood was so proud. They all held me a little party before I went to fight the Varelsi… All thought I could… I could take on the whole bunch of 'em by myself… I couldn’t tell 'em… not when Wisp gave me a little wood carving of daddy… decked out with medals… “Hero of Madan” carved into it… I mean… I was just a rocket hawk… front line… scared as hell… and… they… made me feel like…




HEY CHECK THIS SH*T OUT!!!

IT’S A ROCKET LAUNCHER THAT SHOOTS F#CKING BEES AT YOU!!!
I F#CKING WANT ONE!!!
I F#CKING WANT ONE OF THESE!!!
I F#CKING WANT ONE OF THESE F#CKING THINGS!!!
F#CK THE VARELSI, F#CK 'EM ALL!!! I’M THE MOTHERF#CKING CROW OF THE OVERWORLD, ASPECT OF THE ORB, HARBINGER OF DEATH COMING TO SHEPHERD THEIR UGLY ASSES TO THE F#CKING ETERNAL FEEDING GROUNDS WHERE I’LL PECK OUT THEIR F#CKING EYES FOR ETERNITY AS VENGEANCE FOR BLOWING UP MY F#CKING STAR!!! STAR EATING A##HOLES!!! F#CK YOU!!! I’M GONNA BLOW YOUR FACES OFF!!! WITH THE F#CKING BEES!!! AND YOU WILL KNOW MY NAME IS THE GREAT EAGLE… WHEN I LAY MY VENGEANCE UPON THEE!!! F#CK YOU!!!


ARCHIVED RANT. ORIGINAL POST…