Hey, everyone and welcome back to the 30th episode of The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God. This episode marks the near-conclusion of the Crimson Tyrant Arc, with tomorrow’s entry being the last.
So, yesterday, we had the evolution of Ben and transformation of Albrecht go down. Today is the battle and long pause after a good fist exchange.
There isn’t really much to go over. It’s just a lot of action and snide remarks.
There was a tower in Fallout 4 that (if I remember correctly) imagined would be a good spot for something epic to happen. . .but nothing ever did. It’s been awhile since I had played it. As such, I eventually broke away from using any Fallout 4 points of interest later on. It just became an imaginative beast of its own.
Also, yes, the title is named after the Journey song in reference. Thus, why it’s a small town vs. the big city. Ben is the small town. . .and Al is the big city. It’s just a thing. Don’t think too much of it. Feel free to sing along though.
While it was fun, and the series is far from being done. . .we will be ending the Writing (r)Evolution with the 31st episode. So, tomorrow. I have other projects to do and I am starting to shift my attention to those versus a story that takes up more time, and in a sense, gets rushed. I hate rushing. Because then you get something you’re not particularly fond of.
*looks at the anthology and Lodestone Files* Yep. Revisiting is important though. It reminds you of where you’ve come from, what you’ve done, and how far you’ve come.
Well, it’s about that time. . .
The Diary of the Wasteland Bear God
Season One: Episode Thirty
[Don’t Stop. . .Believing]
For a few moments Albrecht and Ben only stared at each other. One-eyed the other, studying for weaknesses, their talents, their strengths, their—
“Oh for fuck’s sake. Are you guys going to lollygag and eye fuck each other, or are you going to get this show rolling? I could be finding my kid and wife. You know, the main quest I’m on?” The Bear God remarked.
“Your furry friend does have a point. I suppose we should end this charade of ours,” Albrecht added.
“By all means, go ahead, take the lead,” Ben replied.
Albrecht grinned fiercely. “That mistake shall be your undoing!”
In a speedy blur, Albrecht began his onslaught on the newly reformed Ben. His vicious attacks were sound and landed perfectly square on the Mirelurk-Ghoul hybrid’s face. For a moment, Albrecht halted his attacks to see how he was fairing against the former Mirelurk, having exploited his weakness last time. Ben cracked his neck and stared up at the Crimson Tyrant.
“Is that all?” Ben quipped.
“Grr, you half-pint filth!”Albrecht growled.
He resumed his series of attacks against Ben, this time flailing him about like a rag doll, and then hurling him up into the air, just to smack him back down. Ben’s body made an imprint on the concrete roof.
Meanwhile, as the two monstrosities fought, Sin conversed with Rubricon. “I think we should call him ‘Pretty-Boy Ben.’ What do you think?”
“Meh, doesn’t seem fitting that much. Maybe ‘Fuck Ugly Ben.’ That could work I think.” Rubricon added.
The Bear God stroked his furry beard. “I don’t know. In that sense, though we’d just call him that from the get go.”
“How about you all DIE!” Albrecht roared, hurling a massive red energy attack at the “innocent” bystanders.
Both of them cursed at the rude gesture, which they shrugged off as nothing.
“Whoa, whoa there, Sparky. We weren’t talking to you or about you.”
“Yeah, why don’t you go suck the barrel of a shotgun until it explodes against the back of your throat.”
“Your friends are quite incessant with their babbling; in that regard, I respect your silence, half-pint.” Albrecht complimented a grunting Ben as he dragged his face across the rooftop.
“What’s that? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you with your mouth full.” Albrecht chuckled. Now then, be a good lad and STAY DEAD!”
In a swift motion, Albrecht backhanded Ben off the roof, sending him crashing through several buildings until he came to a stop being embedded in one.
He gathered himself and dusted himself off. He looked across the way for Albrecht and locked on to his target. “My turn,” he said with a grin.
Unseen to the naked eye, Ben danced through the air with his inherited Disco dancing powers. He unleashed his own barrage of attacks, ones that were devastating to Albrecht. Each one more painful than the last, and each one brought down the life force of the Crimson Tyrant. Ben uppercutted Albrecht into the air and decided to show off a newly acquired skill. An azure light gathered around the claw as it opened wide, bubbles furiously gathered until a huge globule of water manifested. He aimed it high at the red hulk and fired it. The bubble water beam streaked high into the sky as it made contact with Albrecht, and sent him crashing through several buildings.
“Really? Did—did I just witness a bubble beam attack?” Sin remarked, questioning many things in his mind.
“Yes, I believe we just did,” Rubricon added, with a sigh.
“But it gets the job done. . . Now if only I had some vinegar, we could have had a douche ray,” Ben quipped.
The Bear God facepalmed while Rubricon had a laugh.
“I’ll admit it, that was a good one. At least we can be done here though.” Rubricon added.
There was no sign of Albrecht or anything that could give away some sort of hint that he was could be. . .maybe. . .probably. . .be still alive.
They waited for a few moments.
“Alright, I think we waited long enough. I say we go grab what we came for, get back downstairs, and get the hell out of this mess. Plus I am getting pretty hungry. . .and I could use a drink,” Sin stated.
“Fair enough, I think we can celebrate this as a victory,” Rubricon added, giving Ben a pat on the back. “Although, I don’t think I can ever think of you as the same. You’re so fucking weird to look at now.”
“You’ll most likely see a lot of changes but you’ll get used to them though,” Ben replied.
“You’re also more. . .serious. I wonder though, is it. . .too serious?” Rubricon inquired.
Ben smirked. “Does it count as rape if your one hand holds down the other, or is it consensual?”
“What. The. Fuck?” Rubricon said before starting to laugh.
“Great, now we have a philosophical killing machine that looks fuck ugly, and has a claw. . .just what we needed.” Sin sighed aloud.
As the trio began to start their trek back into the building to retrieve the last pieces of information regarding the viruses, rabbit cure, and (if any were still alive) the hostages, there was a loud rumble that shook the ground and the buildings around them.
Behind them, a figure blotted out the sun and cast his shadow over the trio. “Pitiful insects! I shall crush you underfoot!”
Sin sighed as he looked up at the now massive Albrecht. “Well, Ben. . .I guess you have your work cut out for you.”
Ben shrugged. “I’ve got all the time in the world to spare.”
“Well, go get ’em, tiger,” Rubricon motioned at Ben.