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.
Howdy, partner! No, actually, I refuse to start a chapter that way even in jest. Instead, let me start it by saying I BOUGHT THE SIMS 4! It was on for half price, and—having over-budgeted for groceries for the year—I thought I would treat myself. You know, to make up for those nights when I had a microwaved potato and some vanilla frosting for dinner. I made one sim, put her in a lot, then got bored and quit. But that’s okay, because my attention span right now is about as broad as a WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME, I have to go watch Game of Thrones.
In the Land of Langurds, Dax’s death reminded me that Katana is no spring chicken herself—nor, for that matter, is she a seasoned chicken traveler as she set out to become so long ago. For shame. You might say that Old Peabrain gave us the little push we needed to seek greatness. However, he also gave us a bunch of shitty moodlets to hinder the pursuit of said greatness.
But you know, sometimes the first stage of grief is “press a button and magically get over it.”
Katana: Wow, I’m not sad anymore. Oh wait… I never was.