shitposting rave 5: discount rejects from every genre

SHIT, I THINK THAT'S THE BEST USE OF RELIGION I'VE EVER HEARD. 'COURSE, THE CULT THAT FOLLOWS ME AROUND HERE ISN'T SO USEFUL FOR WACKY HIJINKS. UNLESS I'M THE ONE GETTING PUNKED, NOW AND FOREVER. ANYWAY, ENOUGH MOURNING THE INESCAPABLE MISERY OF MY EXISTENCE.

BREAD LEAK?

 

Be More Creative With Setting Your Culties Up To Do Bullshit. Giant Robot Me Blew Up Planets Out Of Some Philosophical Zealotry Or Something So Theres A Shitload Of Untapped Potential

 

I REALLY DON'T WANT YOU TO GO BLOW UP PLANETS OR ANYTHING IN GENERAL, AND I HAVE A ~*~*WILD GUESS*~*~ THAT IF I TOLD YOU DO TO ANYTHING, YOU'D DO THE EXACT OPPOSITE. NO CLUE WHAT GAVE ME THAT BIZARRE IMPRESSION! MY CREATIVITY GLAND IS SAPPED DRY BY MORE IMPORTANT SHIT, ANYWAY. LIKE SHRIEKING ENDLESSLY INTO THE VOID.

 

You Vastly Underestimate My Ability To Cooperate With Something I See As Sensible, Im Not In Fact A Complete And Utter Antisocial Shitstain About Everything Ever.

 

YOU VASTLY OVERESTIMATE MY ABILITY TO BE SENSIBLE

 

Youre Still Talking To Me Instead Of Turning Your Back, Thats More Sensible Than Most People Manage.

 

WELL YEAH. DESPITE MY CONSTANT BITCHING, YOU SEEM SMART ENOUGH AND HAVEN'T TRIED TO DRAG ME OFF TO A SACRIFICIAL ALTAR, WHY WOULDN'T I TALK TO YOU?

 

[She gestures at her everything, which would be a lot more impressively rugged and feral if she wasn't living on Pennarion for a while now, where her moirails pick twigs out of her pet minor eldritch horror hair and make sure she wears clothes that consist of more original fabric than holes and patches. there's still a truly impressive amount of scars (both cuts and what looks like burns, chemical injuries, sunscarring and so on) all over her and the missing horn contributes greatly to the impression of "Oh god how is this one still alive at all?"]
I Dunno Most People Run Screaming When I Come Close.

 

IF I RAN SCREAMING EVERY TIME I SAW SOMEONE WHO'D BEEN THROUGH SOME SHIT, I COULD CRUSH SKULLS WITH THE RAW MUSCULAR STRENGTH OF MY THIGHS ALONE. I'M NOT GOING TO PISS MYSELF BECAUSE SOMEONE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE THEY CAME OUT OF A BEAUTY PRODUCTS COMMERCIAL. I MEAN, FUCK. PEOPLE HAVE A HELL OF A LOT MORE GOING ON *UNDER* THE SKIN, WHY WOULD I JUDGE THEM FOR WHAT'S *ON* IT.

STATEMENTS THAT MAKE ME SOUND VAGUELY LIKE A SERIAL KILLER OBSESSED WITH ANATOMY ASIDE, THAT DOESN'T SCARE ME. THAT'S ABSURDLY IDIOTIC.

 

If Its Not The Scars, The Hair Or The Criminal Lack of Fashion Sense Or Grooming Habits Its Generally In Descending Orders of Likelihood: Merwolfmom Who Used To be Several Stories Tall, Dropping To the Floor From Stupidly Hard To reach Hiding Places Without Warning, Not Wearing A Symbol, Not Telling People My Name, Getting Offended At Being Asked My Name, And The Whole Being A Juvenile Armsdealer Thing. Thats Arms As In Weapons, Not Arms As In Limbs, Thats Another Crazy Yellowblood.

 

I KNOW IT'S SHOCKING, GIVEN MY CHEERFUL DEMEANOR AND ALL, BUT I'VE MET WORSE. MOSTLY THEY KILLED EACH OTHER BEFORE THEY MADE IT TO SEVEN, BUT YOU KNOW. I STILL WASN'T SCARED OF THEM, UNTIL THEY DECIDED TO START THE MURDER PARTY EARLY AND BY EARLY I MEAN AT ALL.

IF YOU'RE TRYING TO CONVINCE ME THAT I NEED TO SCAMPER AWAY LIKE A FRIGHTENED HOPBEAST, IT'S NOT WORKING. FOR ALL THAT IT PAINS ME, AND OH GOD DOES IT PAIN ME--IT IS LIKE SLOWLY RIPPING MY HORNS OUT OF MY SKULL AND THEN SERVING THEM TO ME AS A CRUNCHY LAST MEAL--I THINK YOU'VE GOT WORTHWHILE SHIT TO SAY.

 

[She blinks at him honestly somewhat taken aback]
Do You Need Help Surgically Removing The Rosetinted Lenses Or...? Because I Mostly Spew Fifty Different Flavors Of Hoofbeast Manure And Then Have A Tantrum About Not Being Allowed To Fucking Murder Existence Dead With A Blackhole, Despite How Scientifically Fascinating The Whole Experiment Would Be Seriously Chroma Stop Making Miniature Woofbeast Ganderbulbs, We Fucking Live On This Rock And Evacuating Would Be Way Too Much Trouble To be A Worthwhile Strategy. I Think I Lost My Point Somewhere In There.

 

Pers9nally, that w9uld 6e 9ne 9f the least destructive tantrums I've ever seen a g9ld6l99d thr9w.

 

The Den has a food problem. I started having Jewel stamp our bread on a hunch, and I'm finding it in the nearby towns. Someone's either stealing it- which I doubt, since it'd probably be starving bandits or other escaped slaves, and they're more likely to eat it as soon as they have it- or one of ours is selling it. That's a problem. A lot of us are used to not being fed so we have to remind them to eat, and now someone seems to have failed to realize bread goes in your face. -they get more agitated, gesturing, and it clearly has the echoes of a rant they've had frequently-

Bunch of fucking children, I swear.

 

"Yes, yes, you're entirely bonkers." Ford grins broadly. "But all the best people are."

 

Thanks, I Love Getting Some Much Needed Fuel For My Inferiority Complex. Cant Get Too Uppity Now Can We. No No, Make Sure You Put The Yelling Brainzapper Down A Few Pegs Or Shell Get Ideas.

 

I Highly DOubt The Limbhobo Is "Best People", Theres Only So Much Salvaging You Can Do To A Handstealing Habit.

 

I'm s9rry y9u're n9t the 6est at...thr9wing temper tantrums?

 

I Accept Your Apology Even If Youre Wrong. Youre Like Little Baby. Watch This.
[She begins just. Wordlessly Screaming. Because she can. Chroma why.]

 

*He stares, but not very impressedly.*

Y9u haven't electr9cuted any9ne yet.