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
Why hello! As promised, I’m doing my darnedest to keep this ball rolling. I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this chapter. With that in mind, I will not waste time trying to think of a cool intro, and I will simply say:
Welcome back to the House of Langurd!
But wait… that’s not our house?!
Acara: I’m at a homework party.
It’s just you at a desk…
Guys this legacy turns nine tomorrow. What the actual fork.
Will I make it under the decade mark at this point? Actually, I forbid anyone from answering that. Don’t even put it in the universe.
In other news, I am humbled by the fact that I can disappear for seven months and come back to one of these:
Once again proving that the people reading this blog are far cooler than the dweeb writing it. Thank you to anyone on Boolprop who voted for this dumb, inactive legacy. ❤
Alright, back to business. Gen Seven. Raising seven kids. And screenshots dated 2017 – which honestly just hurts, man.
How did we end up here?!
Ixi: Allow me to stage a dramatic reenactment.
Alright, I’m waiting.
Ixi: No, this is it.
Well damn, this MUST be the longest year ever if I’m actually going to get an eighth post in yet. I thought we’d continue on that downward slope from 2016 – the peak year of this blog in all ways – through the pitiful four posts of 2019 and into the dark chasm of “I remember when there used to be updates.”
But alas! My advent calendar this year is in the style of a daily “to do” list, and today’s little paper said “write a blog post,” so I groaned and opened up ye olde screenshot folder to see what we were working with, and GOOD LORD HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN JUST HOW MUCH WE ARE WORKING WITH.
Please witness: Middle Children’s Reaction to Their Parents Having Quadruplets
Ixi: I love Tanky!
Tonu: I love everything!
Hey guys. Take a look through the nursery window. I dare you.
Welcome back! Back to the Langurds, and back to the present day that actually took place three years ago (but we don’t talk about that). I have an incredibly pressing life decision to make this weekend, so naturally I’m writing this post instead.
Previously, our heiress popped out her first child (Acara) and jetted off to the future. She returns with pockets full of crystals and nanites, which are clearly what Dudley is “inspecting” here.
Siesta: Dudley no! Bad Dudley!
Dudley: Bad Dudley 😉
He’s skeevy but in the most innocent, unassuming way?
Welcome to the real first chapter of Generation Seven! I should probably put a note on 7.1 to skip straight here, but I’m lazy and selfish and would rather make you all suffer through what I had to. #sorrynotsorry
Either way, we made it! The spares are outta here and the hype is off the charts.
Siesta: Omg is it finally my turn??! Omg omg okay, I have so many plans ahhhhh where should I start?!?
Oh, how I’ve fallen in the world. There was a time when I wrote these posts from an actual desk, a queen-sized bed, or occasionally even a hammock. I’m typing this one from a floor mattress, sprawled on my stomach in that awkward position that strains your shoulders and kinks your neck no matter how you rearrange yourself. There’s laundry drying just above my butt, approximately three inches of Korean dust on my laptop screen, and bread pizza with hot dogs in the toaster oven I scored for free with my phone contract.
Huh, it doesn’t sound so bad when I phrase it that way. I actually love my Seoul apartment, and I do have a real-ish bed balanced on two mold-combative plastic pallets. I just wasn’t feeling the inspiration over there.
Also, compared to the Langurds’ house it’s a downright port-a-potty so I think I have full license to complain.
Seriously. Just look at that golden glow on the wallpaper. Look at it and weep.
Delilah: Welcome to your new room, Duke! And good news, as the oldest you get it aaaalll to yourse— wait, who is that?
Riza: Just the disappointing child of a doomed relationship. Don’t mind me.
I’m doing my darnedest to keep this momentum going, so let’s get straight into the next act of the shitshow!
Here we see a typical morning at the Langurd Lodge for Futuristic Wayfarers. After arriving with a crash of thunder that ruins my screenshots and wakes the baby, a guest makes himself at home in the nursery.
Colby: Ah, what a quaint little transport vessel! I believe this is what they called a bort.
It’s precisely at this point that I rage-delete the time portal and leave Colby forever stranded. I hope he learns how to sail that bort the fuck outta here.