Category Archives: Generashun 6
So. That was a fun week, right?
No, I didn’t think so. I would like to start off with an apology for leading this expedition to the pits of hell. Even if you aren’t as invested as I am, I’m sure I dragged you through my own anguish with those interim posts.
So please, get yourself a cup of tea, take a bubblebath, or try out my favourite guided meditation. You’ve earned it. Maybe wait until the end of this post, though, because it’s a bit of a stresser in itself.
Alright, comments have been replied to and real world has been confronted (crying over my lack of money counts, right?) so I guess it’s time to post this thing. I’m genuinely terrified, not because there’s anyone I would particularly hate to play but because I’ve never gone into one of these so uncertain of the result. No matter who wins, I’ll be ecstatic that I get to tell their story but also heartbroken that I don’t get to tell the other two. But Gryffindork, you like all three of them so there’s no way you can los— NO GUYS, THIS IS A SERIOUS CRISIS AND I LIKE BEING DRAMATIC.
On that note, for the first time EVAR in Langurd History (woooo fanfare) I’ve decided to picture the heir candidates with their intended spouses, traits and all. Note that LTW’s are irrelevant for now; only Dusty and Delilah have them locked in, and I’ll likely end up changing theirs if they have the points.
Without further ado, here are your choices:
What we’ll see from them:
I picture Kip running a hipster food blog and Jada being an online fitness guru. Visionary? Culinary Librarian? I suspect these two care less about what they do than how good they look doing it. A home stylist business is also a possibility—as is our first monogamous heiress, because let’s face it, these two promise a ton of variety.
What we’ll see from them:
This couple screams university to me. After that, maybe some fun new careers—Delilah wants to be a stylist right now, and I can see Trance as an actor or a cop. Their kids will look weird af and I’m okay with that. Oh, and get ready for a lot more Majestic Swan Trance if I have anything to do with it (which—barring any blog hijackings—I will).
What we’ll see from them:
Star-crossed lovers getting to the bottom of the Quinnspiracy. I have half a mind to throw Dusty in Criminal just to make him more conflicted (elsewise keep him in military because that seems to fit). Siesta will probs do a future-related LTW and have the obligatory daddy issues storyline. Plumbots? Puppies? This pair is a bit of a wildcard tbh.
Kip: Slob, Hates the Outdoors, Adventurous, Photographer’s Eye / Jada: Insane, Athletic, Light Sleeper, Mean-Spirited
Trance: Absent-Minded, Light Sleeper, Daredevil, Schmoozer / Delilah: Disciplined, Clumsy, Never Nude, Friendly
Siesta: Party Animal, Loves the Heat, Bot Fan, Animal Lover / Dusty: Loner, Clumsy, Frugal, Easily Impressed, Kleptomaniac
Poll will be open for 7 days from today unless I decide to extend it!
We did it! We’re here! We can finally put Gen. 6 to sleep! Strangely, after all that talk about being burnt out, I woke up after 4.5 hours all fired up to write the next one. My PC has this weird habit of randomly booting on its own, usually in the middle of the night; at 5:30am I convinced myself that I did it with my mind, took it as a sign, and now here we are.
This one’s a short one and all about the kids, so pack your lunchboxes and brush up on the lingo, fam. It’s lit.
Rhapsody: Fine, bye.
I don’t think Siesta has slept once since becoming a teenager. When her energy turns red, she hits the coffee and just keeps a-rolling until she’s dying again 30 minutes later. This is exactly what Frieda was doing in her final days; needless to say, I’m a little concerned.
Siesta: I’m fiiiiiiiiine.
Well, here we are at last on July 12th! Happy Birthday Langurds and R.I.P. Sam’s sanity!
I can smell the light at the end of the tunnel (not a typo; caffeine does strange things to your senses) so I’m going to give it my all for these last 13.5 hours. Hopefully without having to cut things in half and without wasting the potential of these screenshots. You are all lovely and supportive and I’m sure it’s only me cracking the whip at this point, but there is no whip more terrifying than the one in my own hands. (Cripes, a few cups of coffee and I’ve turned into Omen?)
Things have been moving pretty fast. Our eldest heir candidate is a teen, our youngest a child, our heiress a middle-aged underachiever, and her ex-husband a corpse.
Only Rhapsody has yet to get a kick in the pants from Father Time. Of course she’s busking in the park when it hits.
Rhapsody: Thanks for coming to celebrate my birthday with me!
Corren: I didn’t. Where’d your guitar go?
In my haze of exhaustion last night, I completely failed to acknowledge a feat I have not accomplished since Chapter 1.3: two legit updates in one day! Universally recognized as the first sign of the apocalypse, so start hoarding those cans. Given that in Tewl’s day my average post length was a weak 40-45 screenshots, I think I get to claim victory over myself here.
To celebrate that victory, and because everyone begs for this shit on Leisure Day, the Langurds are opening up their glorious yard for entertaining!
Like any good party, this one begins with a fumbled pizza delivery.
Pizza Girl: Tada! Did some ants order a pizza?
Or rather, the new anthem of my life: “No Sleep Till 6.13.” But don’t ask me to rap; I don’t do that in public.
I didn’t want to jinx myself by mentioning this early on, but if I DO get through seven chapters by Wednesday, that may actually bring us to the end of Calamity’s generation. In other words, we could have an heir poll as early as THREE DAYS FROM NOW WTFBBQ.
That seems like a very short time for our heir hopefuls to develop personalities, hopes, dreams, quirks, flaws, and the kitchen sink, so let’s get cooking, guys!
Kip: I am twelve steps ahead of you.
Kip: Do you want me to elaborate or do you want me to finish these muffins?
She may be the first child in Langurd history to figure her life out so early, and the first Langurd in Langurd history to get gud at cooking. Our little indoorsy slob is going to be a chef. It is known.
Ah yes, finally—a chapter number to match the Langurds’ maturity level. Just in time for…
Wink wink, nudge nudge. But of course, that’s a very sore topic around here with our Gen. 6 OTP fresh off a divorce and trying to cobble their lives back together. R.I.P. Quilamity, you had a good run were never going to make it anyway.
Both parties take some time to focus on themselves, which tbh is basically what they did while married anyway. Calamity spends hers witnessing important milestones.
Cal: Try not to get arrested, okay?
Trance: Sorry Mom, but my coolness is a serious crime.
Round of applause for Gryffindork tanking her self-imposed mission in less than 48 hours. It’s not my fault, guys. Failure radiates from my very being. My friend asked me to look after her betta fish this week, and he literally died on my watch.
But in the words of a misguided Death Eater (and a really dated reference), IT’S NOT OVER YET! This seven-posts-in-a-week thing can still be a thing. I’ll just have to double up one day, which is totally doable. /delusion
Last time, a trilogy of Ghost Crises caused all sorts of rule breaking and left me wishing for several plates of ambrosia, which I then remembered is also against the rules. Basically, things are going great and everyone is really happy.
A fine time to check in with the one who started it all.
Quinn: Inspector Flanagan reporting for duty, sir.
Tewl: Well well well. So dis is da new man of da house.
And we’re off! Welcome to the first leg of a seven-day spirit journey. I hope you’re ready to feel closer to the Langurds than ever before (hey you in the back, I saw you swallow your vomit just now). Regrets? Absolutely not. Maybe a couple. Or twelve. Who am I kidding, guys? I’m in way over my head.
Our last instalment featured a disastrous bachelor party, a lacklustre wedding, and the birth of a Gen. 7 burrito, but not at all in that order. Don’t get me wrong—Cal and Quinn are totally traditional people who follow all the proper steps toward a conventional marriage.
Case in point—a timeless wedding ritual.
Cal: Is the cake good?
Quinn: WE MUST KNOW IF THE CAKE IS GOOD.
Skydancer: If I say no, does that doom you guys to infertility or something?
If that title doesn’t tell you we’re getting to the good stuff, then let me tell you right now—we’re getting to the good stuff!
Last time, Gumby finally died but Frieda’s Gold Digger LTW still registered as incomplete. Shit was lost; tables were very nearly flipped. Now we take deep breaths and try to figure out the meaning of this.
Frieda: Yes hello, I’d like to request a refund on my life.