Blog Archives
7.26 OK
This is it. The OFFICIAL last chapter of Generation Seven—not because it’s actually over, but because I have decided to deem it so, and because I have the power.
Everything after this is university, and I’m currently making hella efforts to condense all of that into 4-5 posts—but we all know that won’t happen.
I have ALSO decided that when I finally get back to gameplay, I’m going to restart from the end of university. I have several versions of the save I could jump back to, but I had an heir in mind when I played ahead, and I’m not sure how I feel anymore. I also want to know how you guys feel!
All that to say—optimistically, in 4-5 posts’ time, there will be an heir poll! AND THEN WE SHALL MOVE FORWARD AT LAST.
Previously, we saw a future in which Siesta Langurd was synonymous with failure, which sounds an awful lot like the present tbh. She sought to redeem herself with a legacy statue, and in the process, cobbled together a wondrous thing we call Pudley.
Siesta: Hey, you’re pretty cool. But how would you like to be aware that you’re cool?
Pudley: Piatto del giorno!
Siesta: I have outdone myself.
Pudley is, for all intents and purposes, a newly built future-tech PlumBot with Sentience. And that means the future folk are gonna build a statue of his creator. Hey—I don’t make the rules.
4.9 I Love You, You Love Me, We’re a Happy Family
Isn’t that the most accurate description of the Langurds you’ve ever heard?
For the record, if I get this chapter out by Tuesday, I’ll have done seven posts in two weeks. That might just qualify as a miracle.
Where were we? Oh yeah, still at university. For this whole chapter and like half of the next one. I’m sorry, but it can’t be helped when our bright young minds are keeping so busy!
Prof. Richards: You see, a corporation is like a colony of honeybees! Everyone has a task to do, but in the end you’ll just die among the flowers or with your butt stuck in the arm of a pesky human.
I can smell the sarcasm.
4.8 Taste the Explosion
AND WE’RE BACK with another instalment of “We could be on Generation 8 by now but Sam is a lame-o storyteller so let us waste time and frolic.”
It’s a fine day for frolicking, with the sun in the sky and the azaleas in bloom and the world’s dumbest roommates canoodling in the background.
Garrison: I’ll kiss anything that breathes.
Tammy: I make drama for kicks.
Garrison: Let us tango.
Lev: God, I really can’t get away from it.
4.1 Come Play with Me
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!