(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.)
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.
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?
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.