Question: What’s the longest you guys have ever played for in one sitting? I’m too ashamed to admit mine, but let’s just say I’ve been putting in almost full days lately, and it’s taking its toll. I moved some stuff into my RL apartment today, and when my cat immediately started nosing around the new trash can, I saw “Check Out New Object” hovering in his action queue. Then I sat down with a glass of water and asked myself what life is.
Of course, it doesn’t help that when I’m not playing, I’m writing posts or editing screenshots or formatting blogs. But hey, you gotta
live control fake people’s lives while you’re young!
Alternatively, you can live while you’re old like Lira. She seems to have really come into her own since she hit elderhood, and more specifically, since she embalmed herself in the pursuit of eternal youth.
Lira: Stupid bunny rabbit! I wanted an alien!
Still pining after Teqeq?
Lira: Who is Teqeq?
Another chapter so soon?! (You ask in distress.) I’m sorry. I should probably leave a courtesy buffer or something but sometimes the words just keep flowing, y’know?
Last time, Gumby fell in love with Frieda Salas, an evil ghost who wants to kill him and steal his money. Lira had tea with her SimBots and lamented the curse of aging. Mandrake broke my game, and Boa tried in vain to die by jelly bean. I know now that that can’t happen, but for the sake of continuity and my pride I’m going to pretend I am none the wiser.
(Pretend not to be wise? How ever shall I do that?)
Gumby’s second date with Frieda was a raging and unreasonable success. I know the shot I gave you last chapter was a little stingy, so here’s a better look at her face.
Frieda: So hypothetically, what colour would you want your ghost to be?
Gumby: I don’t know. Why?
Frieda: Oh, no reason.
For anyone wondering, this is her real, EA-given colouring. All of the Midnight Hollow ghosts seem to look like this underneath, i.e. so white they must have been genetically engineered by Hitler himself.
You know how when people live together, their cycles sync up? Apparently, I’ve been “living” with the Langurds for too long, because I’m experiencing a severe case of simulative synchrony. (Why yes, I coined that term myself just now.)
Just like Boa, Lira, and the rest, your Director of Shenanigans is now officially a Gryffindor graduate! Discovery: the door clusterfuck is a myth. In fact, the whole process was highly streamlined and efficient and the worst nightmare of a socially awkward person. Why am I telling you guys this? I’m pretty sure 80% of my readership is older and more life-experienced than I am. Which is an interesting story, but seeing as I haven’t finished this one…
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.
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.
Now that we’re acquainted with the new house, let the breaking-in commence! Or more likely just the breaking.
Weston: Gilded wainscoting, crystal chandeliers, solid gold bathtubs… This place must have cost us approximately—
A shit ton, yes, thank you Mr. Frugal. Maybe don’t check out Lira’s room because it contains $6600 worth of curtains. XD
Are you ready for a good old-fashioned game of whodunnit?
Well too bad, ‘cause there’s very little mystery here. It’s been clear for a few chapters that there’s no love lost between Lira and Weston, and clear for Lira’s whole life that she’s up to no good.
Weston: For heaven’s sake, where are we going?
Lira: Isn’t this wonderful? The snow is blowing so white on the mountain tonight!
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?