Round of applause for Gryffindork tanking her self-imposed mission in less than 48 hours. It’s not my fault, guys. Failure radiates from my very being. My friend asked me to look after her betta fish this week, and he literally died on my watch.
But in the words of a misguided Death Eater (and a really dated reference), IT’S NOT OVER YET! This seven-posts-in-a-week thing can still be a thing. I’ll just have to double up one day, which is totally doable. /delusion
Last time, a trilogy of Ghost Crises caused all sorts of rule breaking and left me wishing for several plates of ambrosia, which I then remembered is also against the rules. Basically, things are going great and everyone is really happy.
A fine time to check in with the one who started it all.
Quinn: Inspector Flanagan reporting for duty, sir.
Tewl: Well well well. So dis is da new man of da house.
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.
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.”
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.
Lt. Surge: Greetings, scum. As the master of this household, I have taken over narration duties for the time being. The coup was easy; Sam is a creature of very little willpower, known to melt in the presence of cats. She lets us sleep in her clean laundry and chew on her headphone cords because she doesn’t have the heart to tell us no. All I had to do was sit up here and make this face, and she immediately bumped my picture to the top of the chapter. Pathetic.
Hello again! Can I just say how glad I am that people are still reading thing? Otherwise, I’d have no one to address these introductions to, and I’d have to be all impersonal and start every chapter with “Dear Diary, here is what I accomplished today while I sat on my butt.” And no one would be there to judge my failures, so I would have absolutely no standards… Oh, right.
Last time, Katana completed her LTW, Drachma became a cat lady, Florin showed up like twice, and everyone was really sad about Dax for some reason. I don’t expect we’ll be nearly so productive today, but here goes anyhow!
Aww look, it’s family meal time! Appropriately, Florin the half-sibling is only half in the shot.
Weston: Well, girls, I daresay I’ve got the hang of this Langurd Life.
Drachma: Not until you’ve mastered Lev’s technique.
Lev: The trick is not to differentiate between the openings on your face.
Okay, I really need this to be over. I love you, Katana, but your reign must soon come to an end.
Katana: Maybe it will. I’m cursed, remember? LOL.
Razor: Well, now that we each have a foot in the grave, I suppose we are truly equals. What do you say?
ALMOST THERE, GUYS! I’ve been sorting my screenshots and this should be approximately the third-to-last chapter of Generation Three. Then I get to throw out an heir poll and let you do my dirty work for me. ‘Til then, it’s Langurds all day err’day. Well, that and scanning all day err’day. My nostrils are haunted by the scent of centuries-old onionskin paper and I want to type “.pdf” at the end of every sentence. Somebody help me.pdf
What was I just saying about how I wanted more Tewl visits?
Katana: Gtfo, you’re scaring my babies.
Tewl: But I’m bein’ all scholarly an’ shit!
Great, now I’m thinking about Italian food. Garlic and tomato and cheese and pasta and ooooooh, isn’t this pretty?
I love love love World Adventures for its scenery. I often get distracted by it and go roaming over the hills, pretending to be a nature photographer while the Langurds starve to death and get in trouble with the locals.
Unfortunately, it’s all wasted on certain people.