I am so freakin’ excited. After four years and 32 posts, I will finally be able to unpause these fools. I mean, I technically already did that when I checked on the save, but… for real! Time will move forward. New Langurds will be born. I cannot fathom how satisfying it will be.
But first, let us close out a thoroughly discombobulating chapter of our lives, here at the Finger Painting College.
Kiko can longer avoid running into her past lovers, purely because there are so many of them.
Ludo: Hey Kiko, can we talk?
Kiko: New phone, who dis?
Ludo: Can you at least tell me how to get this lipstick off my face?
Kiko: Sorry, I don’t speak English.
Ludo: BUT YOU SAID I WAS YOUR WONDERWALL
Welcome back—to yet another post that will undoubtedly disappear into the ridiculous blur of Generation Seven. I can’t imagine how you all feel trying to keep things straight, because I’m barely hanging on myself.
Previously, Dusty topped his career AT LONG FREAKING LAST and dumped his boss, Patty. Kiko and Siesta became mortal enemies, Ixi returned from snob school, Acara went from humdrum teenager to humdrum young adult, and many a mastermind plot was hatched.
But most importantly, in a tragedy that rivaled losing the unicorn, we said goodbye to the greatest butler of all time. And no—June didn’t die. She just stopped doing her job and then vanished in a hallway.
Such is the circle of life.
Her (second) replacement is such a disappointment that I didn’t even bother to screencap her name.
Butler: Sweet, who made waffles?
Siesta: Evidently not you.
I told you these titles were going to start sounding dumb.
But Gryff, they’ve always sounded—
DO NOT FEAR! For this chapter does not actually have “no content,” just painfully little until the last few screenshots. So let’s cut to the meaningless drivel, eh?
Previously, there was a big Snowflake Day blowout (literally, the fireplace exploded) but ghost-Boa saved our butts with magic. Also, Siesta replaced Dudley’s Capacity to Love chip with Sinister Circuits—at least, I think she did. Try decoding thirty different screenshots of your sim holding a screwdriver suggestively in front of a robot, three years after playing the game and taking no notes.
At this point I’m taking complete creative license.
Dudley: Turn up?
Pete: Turn up!
Here we are at last! The final chapter of—
Nah, I can’t. That’s too cruel a joke.
You see, the previous longest Langurd generation finished at eighteen chapters. That was Gen. 4, when I sent the dweebs to university and did the dual heirship thing. The others have ranged from ten to sixteen, but it’s always an even number for some reason.
Today, we hit eighteen chapters on Gen. 7, and the amount of stuff that has yet to happen is ABSURD. I haven’t blocked anything out beyond 20, but my current guess is… 28? 30? And that’s just until I can post an heir poll.
The biggest worry is that this is the ONE generation where I can actually run out of chapter titles, because there is a finite number of the thing I’m basing them on. At the very least, they’re going to start sounding really dumb. I did NOT think this through, guys!
Shall we begin?
After witnessing Dusty’s tryst with his boss from across the street, Siesta stumbles out into the front yard with hot tub brain. Her gallivanting children are all trickling in just before curfew, so it’s bonding time.
Siesta: So that weather. It sure is weathery, huh?
Kiko: Mom, let’s be straight. Do you remember my name?Read the rest of this entry
I have waited so long to use this chapter title.
Welcome to the world of Langurd. My name is Sam. People affectionately refer to me as the Soulless Overlord. This world is inhabited far and wide by creatures called Langurd. For some people, Langurds are entertaining. Some use them in their own legacies. As for myself, I study Langurds as a profession.
But first, tell me a little about yourself. Are you a boy or a girl?
Your very own Langurd legend is about to unfold. A world of dreams and adventure awaits you. Let’s go.
Well, considering how confident I was last chapter in my hermity caveman ways, a lot has actually happened since I put that post out. I went on a forest adventure, tried to move into my new place but failed, and had a job interview. Oh, and I got my first tattoo! Basically, I’m still an unemployed deadbeat but I’m an unemployed deadbeat who dipped one toe in the waters of real life for half a second. Yay, me!
Speaking of unemployed deadbeats, it occurred to me that the last Langurd to hold a steady job was… well, Morgana, and I had no part in her getting or keeping that job. Three generations of dicking around later, our fortunes are dwindling and I’ve decided to crack down on my heirs, start funnelling them down the narrow road of career society. Just kidding, but I’m accepting that we won’t last forever on book royalties and broken space rocks. Someone’s gotta put food on the table and all that.
Raggedy: You gonna finish that?
Howdy, partner! No, actually, I refuse to start a chapter that way even in jest. Instead, let me start it by saying I BOUGHT THE SIMS 4! It was on for half price, and—having over-budgeted for groceries for the year—I thought I would treat myself. You know, to make up for those nights when I had a microwaved potato and some vanilla frosting for dinner. I made one sim, put her in a lot, then got bored and quit. But that’s okay, because my attention span right now is about as broad as a WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME, I have to go watch Game of Thrones.
In the Land of Langurds, Dax’s death reminded me that Katana is no spring chicken herself—nor, for that matter, is she a seasoned chicken traveler as she set out to become so long ago. For shame. You might say that Old Peabrain gave us the little push we needed to seek greatness. However, he also gave us a bunch of shitty moodlets to hinder the pursuit of said greatness.
But you know, sometimes the first stage of grief is “press a button and magically get over it.”
Katana: Wow, I’m not sad anymore. Oh wait… I never was.
Long ago some words were said:
“I’ll finish a legacy ‘fore I’m dead!”
And this one here was going well
Until it all just went to hell
Because you see I’m really lazy
And I can’t think of a rhyme for that so the poem is over now.
* * *
So yeah… remember that thing about getting to Generation Six before the end of the year?
Happy 2015! This gal is nowhere near her winter years.
Lira: What are you talking about? Now that I’m in charge, all the years are winter!
gung ho [guhng-hoh] – adj.: extremely enthusiastic and enterprising, sometimes to excess. Adopted by US marines from Chinese Pidgin English.
This is my life lately. Why, only today I am “enterprising” to sew a dress, clean my room, do laundry, write four French assignments, and caption these 100-odd screenshots.
Not only that, but this chapter is so ambitious that the only other apt title would be “Five Birthdays, Three Life-Threatening Experiences, Two Destinies Fulfilled, Two Graduations, Two Kind-of Deaths, a Birth, a Party, an Abandonment, and a Wedding.”
Having read that description, you can probably just skip the chapter. But please don’t. I put my blood and tears into these things.
We begin with a father-daughter trip to China, undertaken by each party with a heavy heart.
Razor: O great spirit of Sim-Fu, grant me the strength to defeat the Abitar without glitching into oblivion.
Katana: Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou— Just kidding, I’m only upset about being outside.
Holy moly, generation three! I’ve been procrastinating writing this because it actually feels like progress. Until I remember that I started this legacy 18 months ago, not to mention I started attempting legacies when I was a preteen. Then it just feels pathetic.
A quick note: Thank you all for voting in the heir poll! In case you missed the mini-post, Katana won. By a landslide. Lance did so poorly I’m tempted to rookie haze her.
Another note: School has returned with a vengeance, but this time my courses are all—would you believe it?—really enjoyable, so it’s gonna be a challenge on more than one level to tear myself away and procrastiblog. Yes, I am kidding myself. I will, of course, be shirking my studies wherever possible. Still, when your prof integrates this video into a lecture in a meaningful way, you can’t not do the readings.
I DIGRESS (as per usual). Time to kick this generation’s ass. But first, a word from our retiring torchbearers…
Arabella: Peace at last! I am so relieved I could just fart sparkles!
Razor: I am honoured to be a part of this manly, manly picture.
Fun fact—I call them “retiring torchbearers” but neither has fulfilled a LTW as of yet,
because they are useless because their LTW’s are a bitch and a half. Thus, as sick of them as we may be, they still have some screen time to look forward to.