Has it seriously been almost a year?!?
I could have sworn my last update was only three or four months ago, jeez. Anyway, in case anyone is still interested, I am still playing this family in my very scarce free time.
Okay, so. Here we have the bathroom. Most of everyone is in it. Somehow it is Bitte's fault, but Wendy has a more is merrier attitude about it all.
Greta, unfettered by sleeping customs, takes up a rather lengthy residence in the children's room. Only feet from four real beds, which despite not being her bed, are still all superior to this, in my opinion.
Ever since she discovered the gloriously wooden bath tub last update, Isana has kept close to it as much as possible. At least she's using it the way it was intended this time.
The Dog: You better not go there like they do at the professional groomers. I KNOW YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!
(She means her anal glands, guys. And I will tell you, as a groomer, that it's not as gross as you might assume. /bee shares her life with the internet)
Ian: Nothing to see here! Just taking a casual stroll around the mausoleum. Totally normal.
I am suspicious, but have no evidence of shenanigan, so fine.
Greta's Dreams: I will never drink life elixir! You can't make!
I could make her, actually, but meh. She's no Ian, amirite?
And now a series of art photography I call "Georgia and Wendy Feel Differently About the Crib"
Georgia: Eff yeah, science!
Ian: So, listen, I've got good news, and I've got bad news. Bad news is, I'm super rusty and you look terrible. Good news is, I'm getting back into practicing!
Annie: You're gonna fix it, and I'm not paying for it.
Isana: I don't see why I should have to go all the way into the house just to pee, I could pee in my gloriously wooden bath tub. It has a drain and everything!
Daphne: Interrupting my mom's toilet time to tell her about my good grades is the kind of adorably obnoxious thing that will edge me closer to heirdom, right?
I mean, yeah, but not when it's so calculated. It needs to be spontaneous, like you're just so overjoyed you can't even help yourself.
Daphne: "Overjoyed?" What is that? I don't even do regular type joy...I'll work on it though! You got it, boss!
I'm not the boss...nevermind. Okay, you do that.
Ian and Greta: *dual swoon of never gonna happen*
Vanishing Townie: You saw nothing. I was never here.
The Dog: Feed me. Your soul or your food, or both. Preferably both, and in that order.
Note the The Hound was not starving, because he eats the kibble I provide. The Dog, however, dines almost exclusively on table scraps and treats.
Ian: Ahoy, matey! Methinks me sees mermaids out yonder! I wonder if they be of a *playful* nature...
Isana: My gloriously wooden bath tub is perfect for piracy, is it not?
Greta: *sets a poor example for the next generation*
Evan and Daphne: *are merely products of the environment in which they've been raised*
Desdemona: Should I wake her, or...?
Nah, she's good. Gonna have one hell of a neck ache, though.
Bitte: So, you know what I was thinking?
Desdemona: Maybe. You know what I was thinking?
Georgia: I'm thinking about Grandpa Finn and how he should really feed me before the social worker comes!
Finn: idk who "Grandpa Finn" is, but I did my child rearing. You better go find The Butler or Ian or something.
Evan: Why doesn't this TV have wifi? It's 2014, people!
Wendy: Uhh...I am 100% sure I never wanted to see this.
See what?
Oh.
Daphne: This doesn't even make sense! How are dragon types weak against dragon types? Why is dragon even a type, since there is no logical opposition to it?
Evan: Shut up and just watch me, then. I watched a playthrough for six hours straight, so I know how to get all shinies!
Evan: Yeah, so about this homework. *cough, cough* I'm pretty sure I'm too sick. I should probably relax instead, maybe look up some homeopathic remedies online. And while I'm at it, I can reblog some animal gifs, you know, for stress relief. *hack, sputter*
Riiight...you can do all that AFTER homework.
Everyone in the House: Actually...we are feeling a bit under.
Aw, hell.
Finn: We're gonna be passing this around until everyone dies, huh?
Most likely.
Ian: Well, I'm never gonna die, so...buckle up y'all.
Greta: ~IAN~~ I know you hate to see me go, but you wanna watch me walk away~
Desdemona: I can't keep it to myself anymore. I must have Isana in one way or another! I'm holding a kid, so you can't be mad.
I'm not mad. I'm not even surprised.
The Butler: HELLO, IAN. DON'T MIND ME, JUST UNCLOGGING THIS BATH TUB WALL. IT WAS AN EMERGENCY, YOU UNDERSTAND, MUST BE ATTENDED TO POST HASTE, OF COURSE. HIGHLY DANGEROUS TO LET THINGS LIKE THIS GO UNCHECKED.
Ian: Whatever, I got business.
Ender: Hey. Just thought I'd stop by and see the old place. I don't need to stay long or anything.
Okay, join us.
Evan grows up. Randomizes as straight. Does not keep that hair for very long at all.
Evan: Okay. Be cool. She's just like girls online, only her avatar is a 3D hologram. I got this.
Daily Ian Fan Club Rep: Ah, shit, here we effin' go.
Evan: Hi, heh. I'm Evan. So, how about this weather, huh? It's been so rainy!
Rep: Really? We're going with the old weather bit?
Evan: I mean, weather.com says it could turn into flurries later on...do you wanna build a snowman?
Rep: Look, you seem like a nice enough kid, but I'm not here for you. And I'm on the clock anyway, so, can you just...not?
Evan: Okay, fair enough. But I think we both learned something here. In honor of that, I think we should just hug it out, you know?
Rep: NOPE. I AM NOT HERE FOR THIS. DO NOT TOUCH ME IN ANY WAY.
Ghost of Emily: MMMADE YA PEE!
Ender: I am startled, but I did not pee. So HA!
The Dog: You gotta get kinda wide eyed and soft-looking, and pull your lips back, like this.
Daphne: Like this? Am I smiling warmly?
The Dog: Uhh...we'll keep practicing. You're getting there.
She's not getting there.
Ghost of Emily: Hatcha! Made HIM pee!
Ian: Seriously, Em? After all these years? At least it wasn't my favorite pajamas, I guess. RUDE though!
Ghost of Emily: How dare you two! I am on a scaring rampage, and all you can think about is more sex?! Stop it right now, RIGHT NOW, I say!
They didn't stop it.
Greta: *hacks her virus all over the baby*
Because what Wendy *really needed* was Greta phlegm. The bottle was just a bonus.
This interaction is supposed to be cute, but the expressions to me always look a little more sinister than that.
Desdemona: *hurk* I don't feel so well.
Daphne: *POINTED LOOK AT BITTE* ANYTHING YOU'D LIKE TO SHARE WITH THE FAMILY, MOM?
Everyone but Isana: Relax, kid, she's probably just got the flu like the rest of us.
Isana: I should buy a boat.
Hint: It's not the flu.
Des and Bitte: *lovedove*
Finn and Bitte: ..just HOURS before she died, can you even believe it?
Desdemona: I wonder if Finn could solve this as quickly as I can solve it...I should challenge him...
Bitte: She's doing the face again, isn't she?
Finn: Can't help who you love, sweets. Look at me and your mom.
Isana, from somewhere: HEARD THAT.
Desdemona: How's my breath? I think pregnancy has given me halitosis.
Evan: Don't say halitosis.
Desdemona: *goes into labor inconveniently close to a wall*
Evan: I FUCKING LOVE LIGHT FIXTURES!
The Butler: *is the only one who cannot handle this shit*
Everyone Else: *just wants something to do*
Baby Amy!
So many toddlers. So much cute. Looks-wise, this is probably my favorite generation. The genetics are showing up rather interestingly, I think.
Finn and Isana: *show off their ability to make out intensely whenever they choose*
Greta: Stop that right now, or I will literally kick you in the ass.
Ian: I have a better idea.
Finn and Isana: *continue*
Greta: Okay, you asked for it. *limbers up*
Ian: I said, I have a BETTER. IDEA.
Bitte: Aw, yeah. Check it.
I'd be more impressed had you actually earned that promotion by skilling instead of making babies. As it is, you only got that because I lucked out in a chance roll.
And now, a series of art photography I call, Wendy and Georgia Grow Up and Are Lovely Indeed"
Wendy!
Georgia!
Ian was looking a little elderly, so we greet Cathy here on her nightly jog past the house.
Ian's looking much more lively now.
Bitte and Desdemona: Uhh...you didn't hear anything...chime-like, did you?
GOD DAMMIT YOU ASSHOLES.
Want a Withers?
Okay, so. Here we have the bathroom. Most of everyone is in it. Somehow it is Bitte's fault, but Wendy has a more is merrier attitude about it all.
Greta, unfettered by sleeping customs, takes up a rather lengthy residence in the children's room. Only feet from four real beds, which despite not being her bed, are still all superior to this, in my opinion.
Ever since she discovered the gloriously wooden bath tub last update, Isana has kept close to it as much as possible. At least she's using it the way it was intended this time.
The Dog: You better not go there like they do at the professional groomers. I KNOW YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!
(She means her anal glands, guys. And I will tell you, as a groomer, that it's not as gross as you might assume. /bee shares her life with the internet)
Ian: Nothing to see here! Just taking a casual stroll around the mausoleum. Totally normal.
I am suspicious, but have no evidence of shenanigan, so fine.
Greta's Dreams: I will never drink life elixir! You can't make!
I could make her, actually, but meh. She's no Ian, amirite?
And now a series of art photography I call "Georgia and Wendy Feel Differently About the Crib"
Georgia: Eff yeah, science!
Ian: So, listen, I've got good news, and I've got bad news. Bad news is, I'm super rusty and you look terrible. Good news is, I'm getting back into practicing!
Annie: You're gonna fix it, and I'm not paying for it.
Isana: I don't see why I should have to go all the way into the house just to pee, I could pee in my gloriously wooden bath tub. It has a drain and everything!
Daphne: Interrupting my mom's toilet time to tell her about my good grades is the kind of adorably obnoxious thing that will edge me closer to heirdom, right?
I mean, yeah, but not when it's so calculated. It needs to be spontaneous, like you're just so overjoyed you can't even help yourself.
Daphne: "Overjoyed?" What is that? I don't even do regular type joy...I'll work on it though! You got it, boss!
I'm not the boss...nevermind. Okay, you do that.
Ian and Greta: *dual swoon of never gonna happen*
Vanishing Townie: You saw nothing. I was never here.
The Dog: Feed me. Your soul or your food, or both. Preferably both, and in that order.
Note the The Hound was not starving, because he eats the kibble I provide. The Dog, however, dines almost exclusively on table scraps and treats.
Ian: Ahoy, matey! Methinks me sees mermaids out yonder! I wonder if they be of a *playful* nature...
Isana: My gloriously wooden bath tub is perfect for piracy, is it not?
Greta: *sets a poor example for the next generation*
Evan and Daphne: *are merely products of the environment in which they've been raised*
Desdemona: Should I wake her, or...?
Nah, she's good. Gonna have one hell of a neck ache, though.
Bitte: So, you know what I was thinking?
Desdemona: Maybe. You know what I was thinking?
Georgia: I'm thinking about Grandpa Finn and how he should really feed me before the social worker comes!
Finn: idk who "Grandpa Finn" is, but I did my child rearing. You better go find The Butler or Ian or something.
Evan: Why doesn't this TV have wifi? It's 2014, people!
Wendy: Uhh...I am 100% sure I never wanted to see this.
See what?
Oh.
Daphne: This doesn't even make sense! How are dragon types weak against dragon types? Why is dragon even a type, since there is no logical opposition to it?
Evan: Shut up and just watch me, then. I watched a playthrough for six hours straight, so I know how to get all shinies!
Evan: Yeah, so about this homework. *cough, cough* I'm pretty sure I'm too sick. I should probably relax instead, maybe look up some homeopathic remedies online. And while I'm at it, I can reblog some animal gifs, you know, for stress relief. *hack, sputter*
Riiight...you can do all that AFTER homework.
Everyone in the House: Actually...we are feeling a bit under.
Aw, hell.
Finn: We're gonna be passing this around until everyone dies, huh?
Most likely.
Ian: Well, I'm never gonna die, so...buckle up y'all.
Greta: ~IAN~~ I know you hate to see me go, but you wanna watch me walk away~
Desdemona: I can't keep it to myself anymore. I must have Isana in one way or another! I'm holding a kid, so you can't be mad.
I'm not mad. I'm not even surprised.
The Butler: HELLO, IAN. DON'T MIND ME, JUST UNCLOGGING THIS BATH TUB WALL. IT WAS AN EMERGENCY, YOU UNDERSTAND, MUST BE ATTENDED TO POST HASTE, OF COURSE. HIGHLY DANGEROUS TO LET THINGS LIKE THIS GO UNCHECKED.
Ian: Whatever, I got business.
Ender: Hey. Just thought I'd stop by and see the old place. I don't need to stay long or anything.
Okay, join us.
Evan grows up. Randomizes as straight. Does not keep that hair for very long at all.
Evan: Okay. Be cool. She's just like girls online, only her avatar is a 3D hologram. I got this.
Daily Ian Fan Club Rep: Ah, shit, here we effin' go.
Evan: Hi, heh. I'm Evan. So, how about this weather, huh? It's been so rainy!
Rep: Really? We're going with the old weather bit?
Evan: I mean, weather.com says it could turn into flurries later on...do you wanna build a snowman?
Rep: Look, you seem like a nice enough kid, but I'm not here for you. And I'm on the clock anyway, so, can you just...not?
Evan: Okay, fair enough. But I think we both learned something here. In honor of that, I think we should just hug it out, you know?
Rep: NOPE. I AM NOT HERE FOR THIS. DO NOT TOUCH ME IN ANY WAY.
Ghost of Emily: MMMADE YA PEE!
Ender: I am startled, but I did not pee. So HA!
The Dog: You gotta get kinda wide eyed and soft-looking, and pull your lips back, like this.
Daphne: Like this? Am I smiling warmly?
The Dog: Uhh...we'll keep practicing. You're getting there.
She's not getting there.
Ghost of Emily: Hatcha! Made HIM pee!
Ian: Seriously, Em? After all these years? At least it wasn't my favorite pajamas, I guess. RUDE though!
Ghost of Emily: How dare you two! I am on a scaring rampage, and all you can think about is more sex?! Stop it right now, RIGHT NOW, I say!
They didn't stop it.
Greta: *hacks her virus all over the baby*
Because what Wendy *really needed* was Greta phlegm. The bottle was just a bonus.
This interaction is supposed to be cute, but the expressions to me always look a little more sinister than that.
Desdemona: *hurk* I don't feel so well.
Daphne: *POINTED LOOK AT BITTE* ANYTHING YOU'D LIKE TO SHARE WITH THE FAMILY, MOM?
Everyone but Isana: Relax, kid, she's probably just got the flu like the rest of us.
Isana: I should buy a boat.
Hint: It's not the flu.
Des and Bitte: *lovedove*
Finn and Bitte: ..just HOURS before she died, can you even believe it?
Desdemona: I wonder if Finn could solve this as quickly as I can solve it...I should challenge him...
Bitte: She's doing the face again, isn't she?
Finn: Can't help who you love, sweets. Look at me and your mom.
Isana, from somewhere: HEARD THAT.
Desdemona: How's my breath? I think pregnancy has given me halitosis.
Evan: Don't say halitosis.
Desdemona: *goes into labor inconveniently close to a wall*
Evan: I FUCKING LOVE LIGHT FIXTURES!
The Butler: *is the only one who cannot handle this shit*
Everyone Else: *just wants something to do*
Baby Amy!
So many toddlers. So much cute. Looks-wise, this is probably my favorite generation. The genetics are showing up rather interestingly, I think.
Finn and Isana: *show off their ability to make out intensely whenever they choose*
Greta: Stop that right now, or I will literally kick you in the ass.
Ian: I have a better idea.
Finn and Isana: *continue*
Greta: Okay, you asked for it. *limbers up*
Ian: I said, I have a BETTER. IDEA.
Bitte: Aw, yeah. Check it.
I'd be more impressed had you actually earned that promotion by skilling instead of making babies. As it is, you only got that because I lucked out in a chance roll.
And now, a series of art photography I call, Wendy and Georgia Grow Up and Are Lovely Indeed"
Wendy!
Georgia!
Ian was looking a little elderly, so we greet Cathy here on her nightly jog past the house.
Ian's looking much more lively now.
Bitte and Desdemona: Uhh...you didn't hear anything...chime-like, did you?
GOD DAMMIT YOU ASSHOLES.
Want a Withers?