Welcome back! I had planned to get this post out earlier, but you know. Plans. Who needs ‘em? Instead of writing, I spent a fantabulous weekend in Ottawa playing quidditch, sweating sunscreen into my eyes, and sitting on top of a refrigerator. Sorry not sorry.
We left off just as Razor, Lord of the Second Generation, was passing into the great beyond. Razor, who spent his life sparring against China’s fiercest, died on a perilous quest to pick flowers. I should have kept it to one screenshot, but the whole thing was such a clusterfuck that I had to draw it out, all slow and painful.
Bonjour à tous!
And holy schmagoly, guys, could you be any more awesome? Last week, I tried to quit coffee and it was a real bad time. But I also got an army of simselves and a gargantuan legacy reading list, so that was cool. It seems you were all churning out some fantastic stuff while I was off in my struggle bubble, just trying to pull a chapter together. Now I’m racing to catch up so I can participate in heir polls and stuff, like a clueless citizen reading up on politics the night before an election. Oh wait, that’s also me.
I hope you’ll forgive me if the simselves don’t show up for a few chapters yet. I currently have a screenshot backlog of 2000 or so, meaning these pictures are like ten months old, and I haven’t opened the game in about as long. And I wonder why my captioning is so shoddy.
We return now to the House of the Elements, where I can say with certainty (and lots of gusto) that WINTER IS COMING! Danger lurks beyond the Wall and oops, Razor’s plants went dormant so I figured out how to grow stuff inside. It only took me twenty minutes.
Razor: It is clearly labelled “planter bowl.” How hard could it be?
REALLY HARD SHUT UP. #12yearsan00b
There’s a peculiar frame of mind I need to be in to write these chapters. Considering I just tried to drink a burning candle, mistaking it for tea, I think I’m good to go.
Last time, the Gen. 3 kids came back from university to a laggy, snow-covered Sunset Valley. Our unicorn was tragically stolen by Joanna Rodgers, curse her name. Lance and Tommy made their escape from the household, and the screwball Dax French was caught up in our web forever.
In case you missed my shameless filler post, the Langurds moved camp! I packed up the main household, Tomahawk & Gabby, Lance & Eddy, and my simself, who—go figure—happened to be living with Weston Jolina-Sekemoto, so he came along, too. Everyone else is lost to the abyss.
So here we are in Riverview, ready to start the next generation at last. THANK GOD.