7.10 Early Hints

Dude, how’d we get to Chapter 10 with no babies? The last time we dawdled this much was in Gen. 4, when the gang was still in university. “The gang” included Lev, which surely can’t be a coincidence. And remember how she graduated first but didn’t actually get a degree? And how she never completed her LTW either? Yeesh.

#LevLangurdIsOverParty amirite?

And then there was Gen.2, which was only 10 chapters long in total. A simpler time. D:

I sure hope we can come up with better candidates…

Anyway, I seem to be forgetting that I kept Kip and Trance around because I LIKED them, so I’ll try to give their remaining appearances less of a “gtfo already” vibe. Dustiesta’s offspring will flood grace the homestead soon enough.

Duke: Excuse me, what do you mean “no babies”? I am a baby!

Siesta: Me too! Feed me!

Trance: I thirst. Am gromp.

Delilah: Is this the Gen. 8 heir poll?

I sure hope we can come up with better candidates…

7.9 Checkpoint

Well well well, look what the cat dragged in.

Oh no, my friend. It is not.

It was already gonna be awkward coming back to this in a new year, in a new decade, after an atrociously unproductive 2019 – but there’s a cruel irony in the fact that I must now return to you in a WHOLE NEW WORLD, minus the magic of Aladdin because air travel is cancelled and carpets don’t lend themselves to social distancing or germ prevention.

A world where everything sucks but at the very least gamerkind should be thriving, right?

And now the Langurds, asleep for the better part of a year, must awaken to this strange place where handshakes will never exist again but murder hornets will take over and for some reason everyone is baking bread all the time?

Siesta: ADSGFJALEFIETJPOA;JEGHW239PFOWEJSDV

Same.

7.7 Blocked by Parental Controls

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.

6.9 Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?

Ah yes, finally—a chapter number to match the Langurds’ maturity level. Just in time for…

Wink wink, nudge nudge. But of course, that’s a very sore topic around here with our Gen. 6 OTP fresh off a divorce and trying to cobble their lives back together. R.I.P. Quilamity, you had a good run were never going to make it anyway.

Both parties take some time to focus on themselves, which tbh is basically what they did while married anyway. Calamity spends hers witnessing important milestones.

Cal: Try not to get arrested, okay?

Trance: Sorry Mom, but my coolness is a serious crime.

6.5 They All Rolled Over and One Fell Out

Fact: Canada as a nation turns 150 this July.

Fact: Eleven days later, this blog will turn 5.

Fact: I have been writing this blog for more than 3% of Canada’s existence.

Fact?: One day, I will compose an intro that isn’t a rehashed version of “legacy take long time, Gryffindork slow.”

Let’s get down to business to defeat the Huns. After far too much trolling, Quinn Flanagan has finally succumbed to Calamity’s good looks and agreed to date her… all while she’s been under an ugly spell. Figures.

Calamity: Face it, I’d be the most low maintenance girlfriend ever.

Quinn: You’re not wrong.

Meanwhile, Omen’s chess opponents keep getting glued to the upholstery after beating him.

Maeve: Gee, I’m getting sleepy.

5.14 Tentative Conclusion

Buckle ur seatbelts kiddos for u r about to read the most half-assed Langurd chapter ever written. I am so over Generation Five.

What’s that? Hold on a sec…

What do you mean this is my 100th post?! You mean I actually have to TRY? I’m not ready for this, dammit! I’m drinking mocha with Bailey’s and watching Project Runway out of my left eye!

Maybe that’s fitting, given that multitasking is the theme of this generation. And it’s been a successful theme if I may say so myself—all of the kids are (oxy)moronic in their own ways, but no one emblemizes the Age of Contradictions quite like Crash does. Athletic and a Genius, non-verbal and a total loose cannon… Oh, and his teen look may be based on this shit disturber:

5.9 Well-Preserved Ruins

Let us begin this chapter with the Greatest Tragedy of Them All™.

I’m talking about the fact that the game thinks he has children. And family. And friends.

I’m sorry, I bet you’re all crying now. Things can only go up from here, right?

Buzz (writing): A gentle snow falls like bullets on my metal joints. I see her up in the distance, walking away from me. Then I realize it is just my shattered heart playing tricks on my weary mind.

4.18 To Infinity and Beyond

This is it! THE LAST MELON— er, chapter of the generation. In 73 short screenshots, we will finally be moving on. As if the universe couldn’t stand for that to happen, I slammed my left hand in a car door yesterday. Soooo we’re gonna find out how funny I can be while typing one-handed.

Spoiler alert: Not very.

We’ll begin with Motherless Mandrake a.k.a. Mediocre Mandrake a.k.a. Lettuce Loins Langurd. Despite all the unfortunate titles, he has a new flirt.

Mandrake: What am I wearing right now? Well, it’s hard to explain.

The lucky guy is Rickey Lynne-Hudson, born of simself incest. He was dating my own simself’s son for a while, but little Andrew got his ass dumped. That’s my boy!

4.13 Oh Boy, That Tickles!

(NOTE: Chapter 4.12 went up less than 24 hours ago, so make sure you don’t skip over it by mistake! I only say this because back-to-back posts are unheard of for me, so I wouldn’t blame you for clicking the first post you see in the Reader Feed. :P)

Goodness gracious, I just looked through the screenshots for this chapter and we have a lot to get through. Don’t scroll ahead because some of it is big and game-changing. If you do scroll ahead, you’re probably the kind of person who skipped to the end of Harry Potter Six, so kindly let me know to un-friend you. What do you mean there’s no friend system on WordPress? The sentiment is there, okay? I will un-friend you in my heart.

But not actually because it’s your life, and this is a legacy for crying out loud, not Harry Potter.

Newsman: And finally, birdwatchers everywhere have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today. Do not be alarmed if a strange man in a cloak drops a scarred infant on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Balboa: Malissa, dear — what’s the name of your nephew again?

Malissa: Gumby. Nasty, common name if you ask me.

(Now exiting the parallel universe where “Gumby” is a common name.)

4.12 My Baby All Gone

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.