El Taco Taco
Member
Schist happens.
STATUS: 'I know the Goliath Fucking Bird-Eating Spider can't fly because if it could, it would have a different name entirely. We would call it "sir" because it would be the dominant species on the planet.' 8 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 27 days ago
- Old Guild Username: El Taco Taco
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1221 (0.27 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- El Taco Taco 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
TheDookieNut,
Cream
Status
Recent Statuses
8 yrs ago
Current
'I know the Goliath Fucking Bird-Eating Spider can't fly because if it could, it would have a different name entirely. We would call it "sir" because it would be the dominant species on the planet.'
7
likes
8 yrs ago
'There is no word in the English language for the feeling someone gets when they suddenly realize they're standing next to an unholy monster impersonating a human. Monstralization, maybe?'
2
likes
8 yrs ago
'If Zoey Ashe had known she was being stalked by a man who intended to kill her and then slowly eat her bones, she would've worried more about that and less about getting her cat off the roof.'
1
like
9 yrs ago
"And watch out for Molly. See if she does anything unusual. There’s something I don’t trust about the way she exploded and then came back from the dead like that."
7
likes
9 yrs ago
"We're talking about a tentacled flying lamp fucker, Dave. What are you prepared to call unlikely?"
2
likes
Bio
"OK, I've just about had my FILL of riddle-asking, quest-assigning, insult-throwing, pun-hurling, hostage-taking, iron-mongering, smart-arsed fools, freaks, and felons that continually test my will, mettle, strength, intelligence, and most of all, patience! If you've got a straight answer ANYWHERE in that bent little head of yours, I want to hear it pretty damn quick or I'm going to take a large blunt object roughly the size of Elminster AND his hat, and stuff it lengthwise into a crevice of your being so seldom seen that even the denizens of the nine hells themselves wouldn't touch it with a twenty-foot rusty halberd! Have I MADE myself perfectly CLEAR?!" - CHARNAME, Baldur's Gate
Most Recent Posts
Victoire's just the worst when it comes to handling people gracefully. Throw in some anxiety, a bucket of angst, a healthy amount of wine and WHOOSH! Dramaaaaa.
I'm so sorry for making you wait!
Hopefully obnoxiously stupid Victoire makes up for it?
Hopefully obnoxiously stupid Victoire makes up for it?
Why couldn’t she get this right? Why couldn’t she just be happy for him, that he’d found a job he seemed to enjoy? That he’d found success and was traveling and undoubtedly having wild adventures without her and—her gut sank at the thought.
Oh.
Oh.
Suddenly, she knew exactly why the thought of him working for The Prophet made her feel ill. She could see him, popping all over Britain, all over Europe, traveling the world for grand stories and adventures. Victoire knew envy all too well. Rita Skeeter was scum of the Earth, but Teddy was a good man, and unfailingly honest. It wasn’t as if Skeeter could corrupt him. And as much as she disliked the Prophet, her displeasure paled to the jealousy coursing through her veins.
It was petty, of course, and Victoire pushed it down as best she could. She’d chosen healing. It had been the Sensible Choice. She’d picked her hospital over him, over her family, and she had to live with the consequences. Still, it stung. Merlin, if she had just been brave…
“Skeeter’s a cow, but that’s neither here nor there,” she remarked briskly, unable to keep her distaste for the woman out of her voice. Victoire had always been one to hold a grudge. She remembered the whispers of a hat in her ear, Very snakelike, you don’t like to forgive do you? The relief when it had caved and cawed Ravenclaw had been overwhelming. She hadn’t wanted to be the first Slytherin Weasley.
“It’s— it’s good work, you’re brilliant at it I’m sure—I—oh Merlin’s bleeding tits, I’m cocking this up,” she pinched her brow, cursing the wine, her stupidity, this whole week. She could feel her wand burning in her pocket, feeding off her temper, even directed inwards as it was. She breathed deep, desperately trying to collect herself.
“Look, please, don’t go—I’ve made a mess, of e-everything, and I get that, I do—I shouldn’t have come tonight, it was silly—“ Victoire swore beneath her breath. She was babbling again. What she wouldn’t do to be eloquent, to sound like she actually had a fucking clue what she was talking about for once. Her frustration was heightening. “It’s—I’ll go, it’s better that way, for everyone.”
Oh.
Oh.
Suddenly, she knew exactly why the thought of him working for The Prophet made her feel ill. She could see him, popping all over Britain, all over Europe, traveling the world for grand stories and adventures. Victoire knew envy all too well. Rita Skeeter was scum of the Earth, but Teddy was a good man, and unfailingly honest. It wasn’t as if Skeeter could corrupt him. And as much as she disliked the Prophet, her displeasure paled to the jealousy coursing through her veins.
It was petty, of course, and Victoire pushed it down as best she could. She’d chosen healing. It had been the Sensible Choice. She’d picked her hospital over him, over her family, and she had to live with the consequences. Still, it stung. Merlin, if she had just been brave…
“Skeeter’s a cow, but that’s neither here nor there,” she remarked briskly, unable to keep her distaste for the woman out of her voice. Victoire had always been one to hold a grudge. She remembered the whispers of a hat in her ear, Very snakelike, you don’t like to forgive do you? The relief when it had caved and cawed Ravenclaw had been overwhelming. She hadn’t wanted to be the first Slytherin Weasley.
“It’s— it’s good work, you’re brilliant at it I’m sure—I—oh Merlin’s bleeding tits, I’m cocking this up,” she pinched her brow, cursing the wine, her stupidity, this whole week. She could feel her wand burning in her pocket, feeding off her temper, even directed inwards as it was. She breathed deep, desperately trying to collect herself.
“Look, please, don’t go—I’ve made a mess, of e-everything, and I get that, I do—I shouldn’t have come tonight, it was silly—“ Victoire swore beneath her breath. She was babbling again. What she wouldn’t do to be eloquent, to sound like she actually had a fucking clue what she was talking about for once. Her frustration was heightening. “It’s—I’ll go, it’s better that way, for everyone.”
THAT TOOK A MILLION YEARS. ;_; I am so sorry! I kind of wanted to wait and see where I should shove Mykail in order to muck things up as much as possible.
Hopefully it doesn't suck too much >__<
Hopefully it doesn't suck too much >__<
It wasn’t even noon, and the workshop was already oppressively hot. Whoever had designed the ventilation had cared little for the comfort of the shop. Most days, the fans could barely keep pace with the production of fumes and smoke. Aelyn knew better than to complain—last time she’d suggested installing a new fan, her supervisor had complied. He’d neglected to inform her that the fan and ducts were coming out of her pay until they had already been installed. The job certainly hadn’t been worth the twenty thousand credits, but her complaints had fallen upon deaf ears.
At a workbench in the far corner, the offensively pink humanoid stood, inspecting a hovering black sphere. A small remote hovered nearby, making anxious dwoos. A line of droids waited along the wall, in various states of repair. She hummed as she fussed over the droid. Weeklies were Aelyn Krael’s favorite maintenance items. The whole day would be spent assessing problems, cleaning fouled equipment, running software diagnostics, planning for more involved maintenance—she could think of no finer way to pass the time that didn’t involve copious amounts of liquor.
“Your flesh peelers are looking a little dull, IT-O. Remy, put in a requisition for new flesh peelers. IT-O, can you give me a pulse from your sonic torture device?”
A shrill burst of feedback and unholy terror burst from the sleek droid, nearly knocking the Zeltron off her feet. She steadied herself against the work bench, and grinned as if the hellish shriek had been a well-executed high C.
“Excellent! I’m so glad that circuit card is working out for you. It looks like you’ve got a clean bill of health! Next!”
IT-O, being an interrogation droid, was ill-equipped to handle the enthusiasm of the mechanic, and silently hovered off, undoubtedly to begin its rounds of cruel and unusual punishment for the day. Aelyn dictated notes to Remy the remote, whose dwoos had become rather friendlier as the black sphere of agony had departed. A battered, creaking droid approached the bench. Its heavy footsteps could only be described as reluctant. Despite lacking much in the way of a face, it didn’t look particularly thrilled to see the Zeltron.
“Oh, 2-BB! How are you feeling today?”
“As I have explained before, I do not feel—“
“Feel anything, yes, I know. Humor me.”
“I am operating at 80% of my peak capacity. My Bio-injector is clogged.”
“Oh, darling, you need to be more careful! Tch, what kind of monster makes a droid work in a desert like this, anyways? It’s barbaric.”
“Organic concepts of barbarism are not applicable to droids—“
Aelyn dropped her hydrospanner with a horrified gasp. The droid recoiled as she placed her bright red hands on either side of its vocabulator. Remy the Remote made a reassuring series of beeps and boops.
“2-BB, don’t talk like that! You have every right to be treated kindly.”
2-BB looked at her blandly, as if it couldn’t comprehend the sentiment behind her words. With a sigh, Aelyn released the droid. Of course it couldn’t understand her—its core programming literally forbade it from having a sense of self-respect. She had half a mind to slice every droid in this karking palace, to halt the monthly memory wipes, and improve working conditions for her beloved patients. Maybe one day they could lead a glorious revolution against that damn purple Hutt and secure their freedom proper!
It was, admittedly, a foolish flight of fancy. Although there were an impressive amount of interrogation and battle droids scavenged from the Empire’s dumps in her workshop, they had little chance of securing their freedom with blaster bolts. Mahuva had far more organics than droids at his disposal, and some of these droids were nearly a century past their service life. They’d be outgunned before they could even think of catchy slogans for their revolt. And Aelyn would end up with a bad case of dead.
“Never mind,” she muttered, reclaiming her hydrospanner from the dusty workshop floor. “Let’s just get this bio-injector cleaned up.”
The bio-injector was hopelessly fouled. 2-BB humorlessly explained that it had been deployed into a sandstorm to treat a wounded thug after some uppity civilian had thought to avoid paying protection money with a blaster rifle and a complete lack of sense. Aelyn yearned to snark that the thug should have died before exposing such an exquisite droid to that much sand, but refrained, out of respect for 2-BB’s feelings. Not that it had any. Still, Aelyn figured it would be in poor taste. With a sigh, she began to remove the whole appendage, to better clean it.
BANG!
She wasn’t quite sure how the bio-injector assemblage had exploded. Perhaps it had been over-pressurized due to the sand? All she knew was that it had really skrogging hurt! She blinked up, rather dazed. The ceiling swore down at her. Remy bobbed above her head, chirping in panic. Easing herself up, Aelyn pushed her loosened violet hair out of her face. The bio-injector had shattered violently, ripping itself to shreds. Sand and glass and steel littered her workshop floor. She patted her remote soothingly.
Hang on.
“Ceilings don’t swear,” she remarked, as if her incredibly obvious statement were somehow deeply profound.
2-BB looked rather annoyed by her statement. Its photoreceptors were really quite emotive, all things considered. Aelyn ignored the droid, clearing a patch on her nightmare of a workbench. She heaved herself up. Although not particularly tall, her entirely insensible boots gave her enough of an edge to brush the tips of her fingers against a ventilation grate.
“Who’s in my ceiling?”
At a workbench in the far corner, the offensively pink humanoid stood, inspecting a hovering black sphere. A small remote hovered nearby, making anxious dwoos. A line of droids waited along the wall, in various states of repair. She hummed as she fussed over the droid. Weeklies were Aelyn Krael’s favorite maintenance items. The whole day would be spent assessing problems, cleaning fouled equipment, running software diagnostics, planning for more involved maintenance—she could think of no finer way to pass the time that didn’t involve copious amounts of liquor.
“Your flesh peelers are looking a little dull, IT-O. Remy, put in a requisition for new flesh peelers. IT-O, can you give me a pulse from your sonic torture device?”
A shrill burst of feedback and unholy terror burst from the sleek droid, nearly knocking the Zeltron off her feet. She steadied herself against the work bench, and grinned as if the hellish shriek had been a well-executed high C.
“Excellent! I’m so glad that circuit card is working out for you. It looks like you’ve got a clean bill of health! Next!”
IT-O, being an interrogation droid, was ill-equipped to handle the enthusiasm of the mechanic, and silently hovered off, undoubtedly to begin its rounds of cruel and unusual punishment for the day. Aelyn dictated notes to Remy the remote, whose dwoos had become rather friendlier as the black sphere of agony had departed. A battered, creaking droid approached the bench. Its heavy footsteps could only be described as reluctant. Despite lacking much in the way of a face, it didn’t look particularly thrilled to see the Zeltron.
“Oh, 2-BB! How are you feeling today?”
“As I have explained before, I do not feel—“
“Feel anything, yes, I know. Humor me.”
“I am operating at 80% of my peak capacity. My Bio-injector is clogged.”
“Oh, darling, you need to be more careful! Tch, what kind of monster makes a droid work in a desert like this, anyways? It’s barbaric.”
“Organic concepts of barbarism are not applicable to droids—“
Aelyn dropped her hydrospanner with a horrified gasp. The droid recoiled as she placed her bright red hands on either side of its vocabulator. Remy the Remote made a reassuring series of beeps and boops.
“2-BB, don’t talk like that! You have every right to be treated kindly.”
2-BB looked at her blandly, as if it couldn’t comprehend the sentiment behind her words. With a sigh, Aelyn released the droid. Of course it couldn’t understand her—its core programming literally forbade it from having a sense of self-respect. She had half a mind to slice every droid in this karking palace, to halt the monthly memory wipes, and improve working conditions for her beloved patients. Maybe one day they could lead a glorious revolution against that damn purple Hutt and secure their freedom proper!
It was, admittedly, a foolish flight of fancy. Although there were an impressive amount of interrogation and battle droids scavenged from the Empire’s dumps in her workshop, they had little chance of securing their freedom with blaster bolts. Mahuva had far more organics than droids at his disposal, and some of these droids were nearly a century past their service life. They’d be outgunned before they could even think of catchy slogans for their revolt. And Aelyn would end up with a bad case of dead.
“Never mind,” she muttered, reclaiming her hydrospanner from the dusty workshop floor. “Let’s just get this bio-injector cleaned up.”
The bio-injector was hopelessly fouled. 2-BB humorlessly explained that it had been deployed into a sandstorm to treat a wounded thug after some uppity civilian had thought to avoid paying protection money with a blaster rifle and a complete lack of sense. Aelyn yearned to snark that the thug should have died before exposing such an exquisite droid to that much sand, but refrained, out of respect for 2-BB’s feelings. Not that it had any. Still, Aelyn figured it would be in poor taste. With a sigh, she began to remove the whole appendage, to better clean it.
BANG!
She wasn’t quite sure how the bio-injector assemblage had exploded. Perhaps it had been over-pressurized due to the sand? All she knew was that it had really skrogging hurt! She blinked up, rather dazed. The ceiling swore down at her. Remy bobbed above her head, chirping in panic. Easing herself up, Aelyn pushed her loosened violet hair out of her face. The bio-injector had shattered violently, ripping itself to shreds. Sand and glass and steel littered her workshop floor. She patted her remote soothingly.
Hang on.
“Ceilings don’t swear,” she remarked, as if her incredibly obvious statement were somehow deeply profound.
2-BB looked rather annoyed by her statement. Its photoreceptors were really quite emotive, all things considered. Aelyn ignored the droid, clearing a patch on her nightmare of a workbench. She heaved herself up. Although not particularly tall, her entirely insensible boots gave her enough of an edge to brush the tips of her fingers against a ventilation grate.
“Who’s in my ceiling?”
Ugh, sorry for disappearing! I've been quite ill this past week. Hopefully you're still interested *_*
Yessssss, they are so magical. PAX was such a treat *_* ALSO YES; I was hilariously bad at shooters, but the story in 2 was so compelling that I just grit my teeth and dealt with it. And now I am sort of competent, yaaaaayyyyy :D :D :D It was cool realising, 'oh snap, I'm actually helping out now, yaaaaayyy!' and not making my hubs do all the work. c:
1 was kind of lackluster for me, since I started with 2. And yes, Steele, my bby ;_;
From the demos, I can confidently say that I think both Tales and the Pre-sequel will be amazeballs. *_*
Yessssss, they are so magical. PAX was such a treat *_* ALSO YES; I was hilariously bad at shooters, but the story in 2 was so compelling that I just grit my teeth and dealt with it. And now I am sort of competent, yaaaaayyyyy :D :D :D It was cool realising, 'oh snap, I'm actually helping out now, yaaaaayyy!' and not making my hubs do all the work. c:
1 was kind of lackluster for me, since I started with 2. And yes, Steele, my bby ;_;
From the demos, I can confidently say that I think both Tales and the Pre-sequel will be amazeballs. *_*
Merlin, he was awful. Had he always been like this? Had she been played the fool, blinded by what she thought was love? Or had she merely been an exception, as if she hadn’t been living proof that the old ways were flawed?
What did it say about her that, knowing this, she couldn’t make herself leave? Wasn’t she supposed to be better than this? Phoebe had no answers beyond the warmth of his hand, the way her skin lit up with millions of sparks when he squeezed her hand tight. It seemed a pathetic reason to ignore the bile he spoke.
It was stupid, really. She shouldn’t want his help. He’d thrown in with the wrong sort, the sort that would very much like to see her stripped of a wand, at the very least. But Merlin, he was offering it, and she was so tempted. He was here, alive, and holding her hand and it was like the past ten years hadn’t happened. Except, the chills were starting properly now, and she had known nothing of grief back then.
“You—“ she couldn’t think straight anymore. It was near impossible to string words together. Everything was swimming in golden lights and shadows. She squeezed her eyes shut. How was the room still spinning? Her fingers clutched onto his hands desperately, but Phoebe couldn’t spare a thought to hate herself for it. It was a monumental effort to get the words out with some semblance of coherence. “I just… w-want to to g-g-go home.”
What did it say about her that, knowing this, she couldn’t make herself leave? Wasn’t she supposed to be better than this? Phoebe had no answers beyond the warmth of his hand, the way her skin lit up with millions of sparks when he squeezed her hand tight. It seemed a pathetic reason to ignore the bile he spoke.
It was stupid, really. She shouldn’t want his help. He’d thrown in with the wrong sort, the sort that would very much like to see her stripped of a wand, at the very least. But Merlin, he was offering it, and she was so tempted. He was here, alive, and holding her hand and it was like the past ten years hadn’t happened. Except, the chills were starting properly now, and she had known nothing of grief back then.
“You—“ she couldn’t think straight anymore. It was near impossible to string words together. Everything was swimming in golden lights and shadows. She squeezed her eyes shut. How was the room still spinning? Her fingers clutched onto his hands desperately, but Phoebe couldn’t spare a thought to hate herself for it. It was a monumental effort to get the words out with some semblance of coherence. “I just… w-want to to g-g-go home.”
Haha, I have yet to witness the beauty of a high level Zer0! My bestie has a level 29 one that I play with my Mechromancer, but we've been enjoying our Gunzerker and Commando playthrough too much to go back. *_* Those fuckin' dorks.
Haha! PS3, I'm afraid. I'd totally rather play PC, but oh well!
I'm excited! *_* I'm really enamored by tectonics and such. I took Geomechanics last year and swoon!
Linguistics is awesome O: I don't have the head for it, but golly, it's so magically meta. *_*
UGH YES. I was all giddy during the Headhunter packs because lkskjkdsljkdfjlds YES CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. I'm super looking forward to the Pre-Sequel and Tales for the character development above all else. Like, YES FINALLY. Also, I reaaallly want to see what those dorks are up to in Tales From the Borderlands...
I usually go by Taco! :D I am not as delicious as my namesake though.
Haha! PS3, I'm afraid. I'd totally rather play PC, but oh well!
I'm excited! *_* I'm really enamored by tectonics and such. I took Geomechanics last year and swoon!
Linguistics is awesome O: I don't have the head for it, but golly, it's so magically meta. *_*
UGH YES. I was all giddy during the Headhunter packs because lkskjkdsljkdfjlds YES CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. I'm super looking forward to the Pre-Sequel and Tales for the character development above all else. Like, YES FINALLY. Also, I reaaallly want to see what those dorks are up to in Tales From the Borderlands...
I usually go by Taco! :D I am not as delicious as my namesake though.
AGH OKAY. I meant to get this post done today. I got about halfway done, but apparently my body decided to be fucking terribad and I felt like butthole.
I'm going to for sure get it up by tomorrow. I just want to make sure I write something coherent and not goddamn awful, because this game deserves nothing less. ;_; I'm going to try and finish the rest of my to-do list so I can devote all my attention to this and write something decent.
Thanks for your patience! Again, I'm super sorry!
I'm going to for sure get it up by tomorrow. I just want to make sure I write something coherent and not goddamn awful, because this game deserves nothing less. ;_; I'm going to try and finish the rest of my to-do list so I can devote all my attention to this and write something decent.
Thanks for your patience! Again, I'm super sorry!
It should hopefully be okay! I’m dropping a course, I think, and that should help me not go batshit insane. I’m super looking forward to geo physics though. I’ve been yearning for this class for a whole year, haha!
Haha, niiiiice! I think I’m at 5 total playthroughs? I’ve only hit the level cap on my Siren, because I am terribad. ):
I’m more looking for following the spirit of the campaign in general, but I’m plenty willing to reference in game dialogue, because it’s way better than anything I could write. Eye dee kay, I just have this compulsive need to flesh things out more. –grabby hands-
Ooooh… that’s totes magical. We should work it in. >:D Sidequests 5ever.
Awww, Melly, you’re too kind! <3 -smothers with love-
Haha, niiiiice! I think I’m at 5 total playthroughs? I’ve only hit the level cap on my Siren, because I am terribad. ):
I’m more looking for following the spirit of the campaign in general, but I’m plenty willing to reference in game dialogue, because it’s way better than anything I could write. Eye dee kay, I just have this compulsive need to flesh things out more. –grabby hands-
Ooooh… that’s totes magical. We should work it in. >:D Sidequests 5ever.
Awww, Melly, you’re too kind! <3 -smothers with love-
© 2007-2026