And so we go where no Langurd has gone before—and probably much, much farther, but let’s take this one chapter at a time.
Previously, Tonu became a teen. I don’t remember his new trait, nor is it particularly relevant thanks to the constant fuckery of Unstable.
The only thing I can be sure of is that he definitely has a crush on Butler June.
Tonu: I’m a turtle eating waffles.
June: That’s nice. I’m a butler eating cake.
Jeez Kau, what’s got your suspenders in a knot?
Kau: I just found out there are at least TWO empty beds in this house.
Kau: …and I’m SO happy to keep sleeping in my roof tent even though it’s winter. I love it SO MUCH.Read the rest of this entry
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.
It was a dark and stormy night. Detective Guy Mansfield had just returned from a hard day of investigating. It had been a tricky case today, but Mansfield was the best there was, and the man was locked away for good. He wouldn’t be stealing another pack of gum anytime soon.
Guy’s trusty canine, Sparky Dogfield, stood guard at the stern as the detective put down his umbrella.
“Our work here is done,” said Guy. “Tomorrow we sail for Bridgeport.”
“Ruff,” said Sparky.
…is when I’ll learn to update this sodding legacy.
Until then, we’ll all just have to deal with my natural blogging patterns, which—let’s be real—can be mostly summarized as: “When real life sucks, turn to Sims.”
And so, in a state of post-Christmas, cat-hates-me, roommate-got-a-boyfriend and it’s-cold-outside disenchantment, here we are.
It’s good to be back.
Omen: Just wanted to let you fools know I’m getting emancipated. You’re no longer my parents and I’m going into Sith training on Korriban.
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?
Twist it! Pull it! Flick it!
But hey, now that I’ve ruined that for you, let me… ruin lots of other things as well. Welcome back to the Langurds!
Lira: I am Mrs. Nesbitt!
We already did that.
Lira: But the readers liked it!
That doesn’t mean we get to repeat stuff.
Lira: Uh, yeah. It’s called a SEQUEL.
Okay, fine. Presenting: “Lira Drinks Tea 2: This Time with Wings.”
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.