Look at that guy. Socks and sandals, really? Why is his hat so big? Is he trying to set some sort of world record for “number of weird stains on an old sweatshirt”?

Actually, don’t just look at him, smell him too. Did you catch that aroma on the air? No, that’s not some ironic new fragrance or eu de toilette, he just smells like a bag of day old donuts and week old scrambled eggs.

He sounds awful too. His singing is so bad, that he has been banned from every karaoke joint in town. And it’s not just that his voice is terrible, he has to “dance” at the same time or whatever he calls it. To me it looks more like an excited Kermit the Frog flailing than any sort of actual dance move.

And the snorting when he laughs is not cute. It was never cute, unless you find the sounds of a warthog eating potato salad adorable.

I could go over how he violates the other senses but I think just three out of five was enough to properly convey how gross and tacky my avatar can be. The Auraian Elders assigned me to him and sent me here to deep Florida to watch over him.

Everyone has an Aurian that watches over them. They’re based off the eight Aurian lineages and represented by an animal spirit.

I am of the great and majestic Elken lineage and golden sparkles dance off my mighty antlers. I speak in the passing breeze and do my best to guide my avatar to be a better person. My kind influence with a gentle nudge and appropriately timed encouragement.

But Bradjamin Gorp, this freaking guy, will not budge. He has no desire to become a better person. My whispers on breezes have become screams on gusts and still he ignores my guidance.

He sucks.