We’re back with another exciting entry of The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God. We’re revisiting past entries, leading up to the current times of what is going on in the Wasteland.
The purpose of the series (that is to say, the revisit) is to see how you can have an idea, watch it grow. Evolve. Change. Where you can start out super whimsical and raunchy, and walk down the dark path of “super serious.” Maybe you want to bring in cameos. Maybe you want to watch the world burn. Maybe, baby, you wanna just flex that creative muscle and say “screw you!” to the world and do whatever the hell you want to do.
Well, writing is that kind of deal. It’s a great outlet. It’s a stress reliever. Creative fix. Plus, oh so much more. When you get inspired and you think, “Man, I wish I could write that down” or maybe “I wish I could write a book.” Well, you can! You just need to sit down (or stand if you want) and either type or write it down. It doesn’t matter about accuracy, spelling, and the minor things. You can iron those out later. Get the idea down, get what you want down—and fast. Take a basic idea you have or so. Write it out. Then, you can expand on it. Do a little, a lot, it doesn’t matter! Do it at your own pace and be comfortable doing it.
Now, this entry explores a few things. Firstly, the Bear God is back. He hasn’t had much time to reflect on his demise and at first, dismisses it as just a fluke—or joke. Which, honestly, it was. I enjoyed it. I mean, if you could take your favorite hero or character or whatever, kill them, bring them back, wouldn’t you? Kind of like playing The Sims. . .but then you’re just going to reload that save file and continue.
Secondly, we see a diary entry, a video holotape, and audio holotape. The occurrence where I explored all three options at the same time. Usually, I would do one or the other, or maybe two at the same time kind of thing.
Third, this was a revisit to where (at least, in World of Warcraft—Beach of South Shore) my friend and I would often have a lot of World PvP battles. We had a lot of angry people at us, got hunted down, and it was the start of our low-level PvP brackets. *sigh* Good times. I also came across a beach in Fallout 4 where there was a huge group of Raiders fighting Mirelurks and Settlers. When I wiped out the Raiders, there came a Queen Mirelurk and well. . .I won.
Fourth, I was inspired by the idea of having a young crab. . .or scorpion because of Sealab 2021. Captain Murphy encounters one, in which he names him Ben. I also recalled the video where Naked Snake (from Metal Gear Solid 3) fights a crab in a tunnel. Thus, “CRAB BATTLE!”
It also marks the beginning of where things start to change dramatically. Depression and other things kicked in, and the tone was reflected when I was writing past these entries.
That about does it for this segment. Come back tomorrow for another piece of pie on the writing evolution of The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God.
Until then. . .
The Diary of the Wasteland Bear God
Season One: Episode Eleven
[To The Beach!]
“It’s not easy being The Mighty Bear God. In fact, it is usually quite taxing. You get Raiders, Deathclaws, Radscorpions, Mirelurks, rabid dogs, Ghouls, fan girls, fan boys, and those annoying Atom folks. . . I swear those are probably the worst of them. This sit there and throw shit at you, yell “PRAISE ATOM!” and then they shoot their green shit all over your face! It smells like five-day old splooge.”
[The Mighty Bear God then thinks about it] “It probably is splooge.”
—The Mighty Bear God on vacations, Mighty Bear Weekly pg. 32
After having been—blessed—by The Maker, and having a chat about things. I was gifted with something I haven’t had a lot of. Well, I should correct myself, as I have had plenty of it. Time. At least, time off from things. I’m not chasing down something, or someone, or getting my asshole plugged by ghoulish fingers, or a Radscorpion trying to give me a colonoscopy. I thought to myself, a small vacation could be ideal. Take a break, get away from it all. Even though that wasn’t entirely true, since The Wasteland was still here, and there was filth, pollution, and radiation everywhere.
Alas, I had decided, and once I decide, I decide! So I decided I would take my flock, and we would all venture to the beach. Play in the water, soak up some sun. Get each other wet. . .yeah—you know.
Ooh, my loins are aching in the anticipation of it all!
We arrived on the shore, near the old Lighthouse we purged some days ago. It seems some folks had taken a liking to it and tried to say so otherwise to me. Well, let’s just say. . .I persuaded them.
[Scribes note: The Almighty Bear God fornicated, and plugged all their holes, and spared no one. Not even the goat. At least, I think it was a goat. No one’s really sure. It was still a fun day in the sun, though!]
After making the new settlers. . .sing praise. . .to me, and making them shower. We all went to the beach and began our fun time.
So, as I ready my spread, and the flock prepares our picnic, I feel I shall enjoy this time and halt my writing, for now.
[An audio holotape is enclosed, along with a video holotape.]
[Begin audio playback.]
“Scribe Tartar reporting. What was supposed to be a fun day has now turned into a day of bloodshed. We—we were attacked, unawares, and without a moment to prepare a counterattack. However, The Mighty Bear God, He protected us with His righteous nuts of fury! A few of the new settlers were slain, but He suggests that they died for the greater good. The greater good.”
[Video playback begins.]
A monstrous Mirelurk Queen snapped her pincers, attempting to communicate to The Mighty Bear God. [click-click-clickitty-click-clack]
“Yeah, I have no fucking idea what in the hell that is supposed to mean.” The Mighty Bear God shook his head.
Around the Mirelurk Queen and The Mighty Bear God, Mirelurks ran amok on the beach, chasing down the settlers, and members of his flock. The Mighty Bear God surveyed the area and noted the precise area in which the Mirelurks had emerged from.
“OK, lemme see if I am right here. That area over there is your nesting ground, right?” He pointed to a shallow area on the shoreline, which had a rather conspicuous area, that was littered with what appeared to be eggshells.
The Mirelurk Queen clattered her claws [click-click-clack-clack-clickitty-clack-clack]
The Mighty Bear God rolled his eyes, “I am going to assume that was a yes.”
The Mighty Bear God sighed. “Yeah, OK, look. Call your. . .children. . .off my people, and we’ll disperse with no problems. You kill one of my people, I kill one of your children. You piss me off enough, I kill all of you. Deal?”
The Mirelurk Queen seemed to nod in agreement. . .or something.
Most of the Mirelurks seemed to have stopped. Most.
However, as the terms were finally negotiated, the uneventful happened. A Mirelurk Hunter had gotten hold of one of the new settlers and was forcing themselves upon them.
“Queenie. . .I thought we had a deal.” The Mighty Bear God motioned his head towards the rogue Hunter.
[CLACK CLACK! CLICK CLACK CLACK! CLICKITTY—CLACK—CLICK!]
The Queen furiously snapped her pincers, but the rogue Mirelurk was too far gone.
It slaughtered the settler and began to eat its insides. First pulling out the intestines, then snapped through the rib cage and went for the lungs and heart. The other Mirelurks snapped and clacked their claws in approval.
Meanwhile, the flock and settlers had disgust on their faces. Elsewhere, his canine companion ran rampant going for limbs, or throats of the Mirelurks.
“Well, you know the rules.” The Might Bear God sighed.
In a great display of newly created finesse, vigor, and prowess, the sexy beast that was The Mighty Bear God, dashed through the Mirelurks for the Hunter that broke the pact.
“You done gone and fucked up!” He yelled as he closed the gap between himself and his target.
[CLACK! CLACK! CLACK!]
The Mirelurks seemed to chant in unison, while their queen was. . .probably[?]. . .showing signs of distress.
The Mighty Bear God raised his holy paw. It raged in a white light that blinded its foe. As he landed the fatal blow that caused the Mirelurk Hunter to explode in a massive burst of water, sludge, and who knows what. . . The other Mirelurks seemed agitated enough to go into a frenzy.
[CLACK! CLACK! CLICKITTY CLACK! CLICKITTY CLACK! CLACK!]
The queen furiously clattered her claws, probably trying to calm the others—or incite them.
“Well, my children, I guess we’re having crab for dinner!” The Mighty Bear God readied himself for combat.
He let loose a mighty roar that staggered the army that amassed itself around him. The look in his eye, you could tell he lived for this. This was what he lived for. What he died for. What he killed for.
“ULTIMATE CRAB BATTLE!” He shouted as he tore through the hardened carapaces of his foes.
One by one, two by two, over and over, until there was but one—the queen, did they all fall.
The Mirelurk Queen stayed—distraught and now saddened by the slaughter of her children.
[C. . .click. . .click. . .clack. . .clack.]
“I told you, Queenie. Them’s the rules of the land.” The Mighty Bear God motioned for his followers. “Gather them up. Tonight, we feast!”
The flock and settlers cheered, while the queen motioned to leave.
“Look, Queenie, you can stay. I doubt you’d join us, but as long as we don’t have no more trouble, we’ll be fine.”
The queen tilted her head at the Mighty Bear God. Then she motioned him to follow her.
As she led them back to the nest, there sat but one pristine Mirelurk egg. She pointed her claw at it, then at the Mighty Bear God.
“You. . .want me to take it?”
She nodded and clacked her claws a few times.
“OK then. I’ll take good care of it.” He reached for the egg and picked it up.
He could have sword he then actually heard the queen say something, “kill me,” as clear as day.
“Wait, what,” he asked. “You want me to kill you?”
She nodded and put her pincers down.
“Well. . .I don’t usually do requests, but if you insist and to honor the deal.” The Mighty Bear God sighed and readied a heavy paw. “I’ll be merciful, and grant you a swift death, Queenie. Don’t worry. I’ll raise them right, and they’ll grow up big and strong.”
In one swoop of his paw, the Mirelurk Queen fell to the ground dead, atop the eggshells that littered the beach.
Never before had he met such a personable creature—at least in The Wasteland. As he wandered back to the camp, where there was plenty of crabs. He looked at the egg he held in his paws.
“I know just what to name you when you hatch.” He smiled.
He tucked the egg under his arm and ventured to a platter full of steamed crab.