#you guys got this post 12 hours earlier than intended because i forgot to put PM after the time when i scheduled it lol

[lex-munro]

[Suicide Squad Scrap] Princess pt. 20

self-indulgent batjokes-flavored SS/BvS/JL, installment 20.  errbody love Brucie.  my Arkham layout is mostly similar to the Arkham gameverse’s version.  we’re gonna handwave the composition of the basement flooring in that particular building, even though realistically there should be several feet of dirt and conduit space between any drain/sewer systems and the building (unless the Arkham family built it all at once as a single structure like a damn castle—y’know what, that’s not out of character).

the piece as a whole is rated Mature for pervasive language, varying degrees of violence, use of controlled substances, sexual references, questionable ethics, and themes of mental illness.  set from Flag’s POV, with references to (and oblique spoilers for) Birds of Prey, but not compliant with The Suicide Squad.

***

Joker dozes intermittently on the drive, which is deeply inconvenient since he’s giving directions.  They leave a hotwired Olds parked by the curb of the swanky two-level.  It sounds like there’s a minor party in the pool at the back (splashing, laughter, clinking glasses, but only muted music).

Joker pauses on the porch and reaches up into the overhang to pull out a spare key.  (Flag hopes the neighbors aren’t looking, because Joker definitely looks more like a meth-head trying to break in than a guy who lives in a place like this.)

They walk in the front door all but unnoticed.

Joker leads them to the den, where a bubble of silence spreads as people catch sight of him.  He sidles up behind a guy (still talking to some busty redhead whose big blue eyes are currently fixed on the gun in Joker’s hand), and settles both hands on the guy’s shoulders.  “Hoooney, I’m hoooome,” Joker coos.

Flag wonders what clichéd line will come next.  It’s not what it looks like, is always a favorite.  Maybe, I can explain.

“Welcome back, Mister J,” the guy says, and his voice barely shakes.  “Club’s running like a dream, Queenie’s a big hit, shipments are all on schedule.  How was Arkham?”

“Boring,” Joker says, and heaves a long sigh as he clambers over the couch to sit between the henchman and the redhead, armed hand still hooked over the henchman’s shoulder.  “Then Boy Scout back there took me to meet Satan, and she had me doing her dirty work in between drug comas.  Good times.  But she once again has something of mine, and this time, oh, this time…”  Joker leans his head back on the couch.  “Fuck just shooting our way in, grabbing my property, and getting out.  She needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Belle Reve again?”

“Possibly.  We’ll have to look into it.  Anyway, Daddy’s princess is gonna set fire to anything and anyone that gets between me and my Batsy.”  He lifts the pistol to trail its muzzle over his henchman’s jaw.  “All of you better remember who built all this.  Remember who killed Carmine Falcone and Hamilton fucking Hill and Rupert goddamn Thorne.  Remember who’s broken out of Blackgate three times and Arkham seven.  I’m gonna go rinse off and get dressed, and then we’re getting Harley’s girl outta Arkham for her.”  He presses a loud, theatrical kiss on the man’s cheek, leaving a morbid red smear, then hops up.

Flag would tell Lawton to follow him, but the assassin does it anyway.

“Fuckin’ weak,” complains Ratcatcher.  “I was hoping he’d, like, cut the guy’s nose off, or drown him in the pool, or feed him his own balls…”

The henchman gets up from the couch and turns to them.  “I’m Mike.  I’m Mister J’s number one guy.  You want anything, you come to me.”

Flag sees right through the bravado.

“Pretty obliging for a guy Harley said stole the whole operation when Jay and the Bat had their little talk,” Ratcatcher notes.

Mike goes as pale as Harley and Joker at the accusation.

Flag smirks.  “Call me Flag.  That’s Arcee.  I’m sure Deadshot needs no introduction, even if he’s playing bodyguard instead of assassin.”

Mike nods agreeably.  “You want anything?  Beer, bourbon, tequila?  We got a shitload of pizza in the kitchen, too.”

“Pizza, hell yeah, that’s what we smelled,” Ratcatcher says, to a chorus of eager squeaking in her coat.

Flag rolls his eyes and follows her, clocking each armed member of the gang and catching them doing the same to him.  Seven in the den, one in the hall with his hands up a girl’s skirt while she giggles and almost (but not quite) spills her drink down his back.  Three more talking sports in the foyer, two in the kitchen debating the underlying literary themes of Banks’ sci-fi work.

The two in the kitchen freak when eight big rats scamper out of Ratcatcher’s clothes to politely inspect the food and make their selections.  Ratcatcher grabs them paper plates from the stack and everything.  She catches the gangers staring and says (with her mouth full of what looks like mushroom-bell-pepper), “You wanna get down on this?”

“No thanks,” one says while the other just stares and looks green.

“They had a bath yesterday, and they only touched their own food,” Ratcatcher tells them reprovingly.  “They’re probably cleaner than you are.”

By the time she and the rats are finished, Joker sweeps into the kitchen.  He’s wearing a tailored purple three piece suit with a tail coat, lavendar pinstripes on the vest setting off the loud magenta trim.  His silk shirt is an eye-gouging shade of mustardy yellow that matches a hideous paisley tie.

“Noice!” says Ratcatcher.  “Looking fully pimp, Mister J!”

Flag can’t help the look of horror he gives her.

“That’s the face I made, too,” Lawton says.  “Buuut, we do need to get noticed.”

“This is a classic,” Joker informs them.  “I wore it to the GCPD Christmas Charity Ball the year I met my Batsy, and spilled red wine on Isabela Maroni after she insulted my poor hardworking tailor.”

Lawton frowns.  “Didn’t you throw an entire bottle at her face?  Just, like…corked and everything?”

“It spilled,” Joker insists.

“After it shattered on her nose.  Sal’s the only guy who’s ever been both dumb and brave enough to try to hire me to kill you, y’know.”

“What’d ya tell him, sweetcheeks?”

“Haveta have a death wish to take the contract, ‘cause anybody skilled enough to actually get it done would be dead within a week, assuming the Bat didn’t get there first.  This was before the psychotic break—pretty sure he’d kill ‘em these days.”

“What can I say?  Daddy doesn’t like people touching his things,” Joker says with a grin.  “Come on—we’re picking up some thermite from my stash before we meet back up with Croc and Boom.”

“And these guys?” Flag asks.

“Mickey and the gang will meet us at one of Croc’s old haunts, and he’ll guide us in.”

“Sewers?” Ratcatcher asks a little too eagerly.

Joker just keeps grinning.

“Oh, I almost forgot…”  She stuffs the last of her pizza slice into her mouth while she digs in her coat.  She pulls out a couple of knives—an antique ivory handled switchblade, yellowed with age but still proudly sporting an engraved motif of card suits; and the green-handled butterfly knife that left a permanent smile on Vinnie’s face.  “My buddies snagged these when Satan’s cronies stripped and straited you.”

He takes the blades, stows them in opposite pockets (left vest, right trouser).  “Not bad, Minnie.”

“‘Not bad’?  Lick my ass!  It was cool and you know it.”

He barks a short, sharp laugh, and Flag gets the feeling she’s impressed him, somehow.

“Macky, got something for you while you’re out,” he says.  “Go to this address, say ‘Location compromised, get your bug-out bag,’ and take the charming young lady to the club.”

“Mike,” the henchman corrects in a long-suffering tone.

“Gently,” Lawton stipulates.  “Every scratch on my baby is a bullet in something tender of yours.  And don’t try to tell her we’re friends, or you work with me, or any of that bullshit, or she’ll probably mace your ass and run.”

On their way out the door, Lawton lingers over Flag’s shoulder to mutter, “He’s still in and out.  Almost busted his skull open in the shower.  Keep a sharp eye.”

They swing by an outdoor storage place to grab three heavy duffel bags full of metal canisters.

Back at Harley’s place, Croc is busy being fawned on by Harley, Huntress, and some leggy black girl while a grumpy Latina ignores Digger’s attempts to make small talk with her (admittedly impressive) cleavage.

“What the fuck is he wearing?” the grumpy one asks when Joker sidles in and gestures to the door.  “Holy shit, isn’t that the suit you wore when you danced with Bruce Wayne after you threw a wine bottle at Sal Maroni’s wife?”

“Don’t do that, Montoya!” Harley scolds.  “Don’t remember his antics, or you’ll just feed his obnoxious narcissism!”

Joker grins.  “You know you love it.  Croc-baby, we’re going in through the storm drains, and then we’ll melt our way into the props department.  Told the crew to meet up at your old place under Amusement Mile; you’re on point, big guy.  Ladies, I recommend following us as far as the island, but after that, we’ll be drawing far too much attention to ourselves.  Let’s go get Ivy and nab some anti-ARGUS intel.”

“Well, somebody needs to stay here and babysit Brucie, so you lot have fun with that,” Digger says, petting the hyena sitting beside him on the couch.

Flag rolls his eyes, but Joker strolls over and plops down on Digger’s lap (the Aussie freezes like a skunk in headlights).

“You are so right, Boom-boom,” Joker says sweetly, one hand stroking suggestively over Digger’s chest.  “And I know you are gonna be the best puppy-sitter in Gotham, because Brucie here is important to our galpal Harley, and if a single fuzzy hair on his precious little mug were to be harmed, you know that Harls would rip your balls off with her teeth and go play baseball.  And I know you know how important it is to have a good puppy-sitter, because if it were anything less vital and you thought I might need your help getting my Batsy away from that smug evil asshole with the kitten heels, you would definitely give it to me so that I wouldn’t have to hunt you down and put a pretty smile on your face like I did the last guy who screwed me.  You remember Vinnie, right?  Or were you too busy with the Human Crepe impression?”

“I remember,” Digger squeaks.

“Oh, good.  Then you stay here and take very, very good care of Brucie.”  And he plants a loud kiss against Digger’s cheek, leaving a dark red lipstick print, somewhat less smudgy and disturbing than the one he left on Mike’s face.

Harley snorts.  “My little business partner is on her way here, too, so watch your manners, Boomy.  Her ‘n Brucie are besties.”

The storm drains are surprisingly clean.  Jones leads them along loud, wet tunnels far below the streets of always-rainy Gotham, taking a maze of turns while Harley tells her girls all about ‘the fun we all had killin’ a bunch of eyeball zombies or whatever’ in Midway City.  Then she tells Lawton (specifically him, definitely ignoring Joker and with an air of maybe having already told Croc) about ‘this diamond full of blackmail that Sionis put a bounty on,’ which is how she met the Birds and her ‘little buddy, Cass.’

“And thanks for the price on my head, by the way,” she adds sourly.

“If you couldn’t handle that drippy little fuckstick, you’d’ve deserved to get your pretty little face cut off,” Joker replies easily.  “I have faith in your ability to solve your own problems, Doctor Quinzel.  You did chase after me on a motorcycle after I specifically told you we were done and you bored me.”

“And then you made me un-boring, right?  Whatever.  I coulda had a psychotic break and a mutated epiphany all on my own, you know—I didn’t need you for it.”

“And I didn’t need you to fuck with my memory, but here we are, Doc.  And it’s not like I pushed you—you jumped.”

“Focus up, Jay, we got shit to accomplish,” Flag says before Harley can continue their little slap fight.

“She started it.”

“And I’m stopping it.  Behave yourself.”

“Yes, Mommy,” Joker snarks.

Flag almost misses the moment when Joker falters a step and Lawton catches him—it’s disguised in a single smooth motion that looks like Lawton pushing Joker to keep him moving.

Great.  Unpredictable mood swings on a guy with a short, bloody temper, and lingering drug interactions on top.

They arrive at a huge cistern, where Mike and some guys in Halloween masks wait with guns.

“Brought the guns, Mister J,” says Mike.

Joker sways again; he catches himself on Flag and turns the motion into a few steps of a rather forceful waltz.  “That’s what I like to hear!” he cries with a brief burst of laughter.

“Get off me,” Flag grumbles, but steadies the maniac.

“Grab some cans, gents—the usual color codes apply.”  He and Croc throw down the bags from the outdoor storage unit, full to bursting with aerosol cans, and the cannon fodder hurriedly gear up.

They make it to the island without getting too wet; Croc leads the way with confident ease, despite a dozen twists and turns and detours.

A couple hundred feet in, Croc pauses at a ladder.  “Drain here comes out below admin central offices,” he tells Harley.  She nods, and the girls split off.

He leads the rest of them farther in, through a few more turns, and stops to listen.

“Yo, Arcee—your little snack packs hear anything above us?”

He hoists her up as she holds a rat up to the ceiling.  After a few seconds, she shakes her head.

“Computers about twenty feet the way we came.  Footsteps fifty-ish feet ahead.”

Joker looks up and counts bricks.  “Gimme a boost, Croc,” he says, grabbing a purple canister and a green canister from some nearby goons.

He sprays the two compounds in a broad rectangle and shoves a fuse into it.

“Might step back and close your eyes,” he suggests.  “It’s gonna get a little toasty.”

In point of fact, it gets hot as hell near the blinding conflagration that results.  Clearly, the mad chemist makes good thermite.

A goon sprays the stuff down with a pink canister, once the section of brick and mortar has collapsed into the tunnel with a minor cloud of dirt.

“Finish up for me, boys,” Joker commands, and his men hurry to clamber into the new gap and spray more chemicals on the freshly exposed metal.

“Nice of them to line it with steel instead of concrete,” Flag scoffs.

“They were thinking of people digging in and out, not melting in and out.”

The chunk of floor panel drops with a raucous clang, and Joker’s masked gang spray down the edges and climb up as someone shouts in the distance and keys fumble at a lock.

Gunshots, and sounds of pain.

Joker throws his head back and laughs, arms spread wide and waving, conducting a symphony of destruction.

“Get up there, you,” Flag says, nudging Joker toward the hole.

“A gal could break a nail,” Joker says with a pout.

Croc just tosses Joker over his shoulder, gives Ratcatcher a boost, and jumps straight up into the darkness.

“Such a gentleman!” Flag hears Joker say.

“I could be taking a nap in my cell right now,” Lawton grumbles, but climbs up.

By the time Flag gets through the hole, Joker’s people have fanned out and the man himself is hunting through boxes of personal items, apparently with a very specific list in mind.

~Cameras are about to go down,~ says Harley.  ~It takes three minutes for the system to reset.  They’re on the same system as the cell doors for Intensive Treatment, so we’ll give you exactly five minutes to get everything open before we bring ‘em down again to get out.  Synchronize watches or whatever—radio silence starts now.~

“All clear for now,” says Lawton.  “It takes just under three minutes for the higher-end security staff to gather and deploy, so the timing should be about perfect.”

“Assuming nobody spotted us earlier,” Joker puts in.  “Mm, love a good ambush…”

Out in the corridors, lights and sirens are going off.  They make it up the stairs without seeing any new guards.

Croc and Ratcatcher take down the two guards controlling the airlock into Intensive Treatment and get the doors working (after some minor bickering about how to work the controls).  Joker’s people stay to hold the corridor against the guards that are definitely on the way.

The ominous flickering sign stares down at them as they move on toward the control booth, and Joker steps inside only to have an Eskrima rod brandished at his face.

“Joker—I should’ve known you’d…”  Nightwing trails off, looking confused.  “If you’re breaking out, how come you’re not in scrubs or a jumpsuit?”

Joker rolls his head on his neck.  “Just gimme a ten-minute head start, kid.  Or go home, either way suits me.”

“You promised Batman—”

“We’re helping Batman,” Flag interrupts.  “You’re gonna have to trust us on this.”

Nightwing crosses his arms over his chest.  “Look, I already know Batman’s in trouble; he’s been out of contact for twenty hours and he hinted at somebody trying to catch him with human bait.”

“Not a very flattering description for the love of a guy’s life,” Joker grumbles.

“You’ve got ninety seconds before the cameras reboot to explain why I should let you go.”

“Y’see, when daddies and princesses love each other—”

Lawton, fortunately, has both the balls and the sway to put a hand over Joker’s mouth and hurriedly say, “Jay was recruited to work with us in a top secret government task force in exchange for guaranteed visits with the Bat.  Turns out he was bait, now the Agency—ARGUS, that is—has Batman.  If Jay’s loose, the Bat can sit tight, but if they get him, game over.  Meanwhile, we ain’t the type to sit on our asses, so we’re breaking the Agency’s other schemes wide open.”

Nightwing nods.  “Okay.  In seven seconds, somebody needs to hit me, and make it look good.”

“Don’t look at me,” Joker says, hands in the air like he’s surrendering.  “I’m not allowed to hit birdies anymore.”

“Eh, fair enough…”  And Nightwing pins Joker to the wall with one Eskrima rod, the other poised to strike.

The control panel lights up, right on time.

Flag swings in from behind and gets him in a sleeper hold, which he fights with several uncomfortable strikes to Flag’s ribs before Lawton readies his wrist magnum.

“Stand down, boy,” he says.  “This don’t concern you.  Run on home to Blüdhaven.”

“You won’t get away with this!” Nightwing declares.  “Batman will—”

“The Bat ain’t here,” Flag says, tightening the fake hold enough to put on a good show.  The kid almost over-sells it with his swoon, but Flag thinks the cameras won’t see anything amiss.

Joker reaches over and flips all the release switches for maxsec.  A new siren adds itself to the cacophony, red lights flaring for extra measure.  He rolls his head again, eyes hooded and neck long—it’s the most predatory Flag’s seen him in a while…even more than Vinnie the smiling lookout and the fixation on Mercy Graves after.  “Bring the kid,” he purrs.

For just a fraction of a second, Flag is sure Joker has something awful planned for Nightwing.

“‘Kid,’ my ass,” mutters the Blüdhaven vigilante, still playing possum over Lawton’s shoulder.  “You’ve only been doing this a year longer than I have, asshole.”

Joker giggles in reply.

They step into maxsec to the sight of seven open doors, four bewildered inmates, four unresponsive guards (drooling and swaying on their feet), and one smug redhead.

“Good evening, gentlemen, milady,” Joker says with a flourishing bow and a tip of the stolen top hat.  “We come bearing gifts from the personal effects locker.”  He flicks the coin at Two-Face, tosses the top hat at the little guy (‘J Tetch,’ according to his shirt), and unzips the duffel with the wooden dummy in it.

“Oh, oh my,” murmurs ‘A Wesker,’ who looks like a sweet little old man.

“Thaaaat’s right, Arn,” says Joker, eyes round and metallic teeth glinting, “your old boss, safe and sound…”

A skinny guy in glasses (‘E Nygma’; Flag remembers him having that huge Rubik’s puzzle before) clears his throat meaningfully.  When Joker ignores him to gently hand over the puppet, he clears his throat again and says, “Don’t you have something for me, too?”

Joker turns, and Flag can’t see, but he knows the guy well enough now to know he’s making shark-faces again.  “Can’t fool me, Eddie,” he drawls, sidling up close.  “I know a man of your intellect neither wants nor needs the assistance of ‘a pasty poser clown whore.’“

“Naturally,” ‘Eddie’ says with suicidal bravado.

Joker grabs him in a chummy half-hug.  “Besides, I’m sure you know all about the escape tunnel.  Gun Bunny, be a doll and put Nightlight in my old room.  The Boy Blunder will be along later to let him out, and we’ll all be sipping champagne somewhere while he dies of embarrassment.  Maybe the Iceberg Lounge—I’m feeling fancy.  Run along, jailbirds…Croc will be holding the door.”

‘P Isley’ rolls her eyes.  “Come on, boys,” she tells the guards under her thrall.

The wooden ventriloquist dummy chimes in with a Hollywood mobster accent, “If it’s all the same to youse, I think me ‘n Dummy will stick around for a while.  I gotta make some guards pay for the way they treated my numba one guy.”

“Oh, dear,” says the little old man, but he seems happy enough at the proposition.

“Us, too,” says Two-Face.  “But thanks for the hand, clown.  We owe you one.”

Flag breaks radio silence to say, “Pack it up, kids, we’re on our way out.”

~Jackpot!~ Harley calls back.  ~Okay, we just wrapped up, too.  Cameras back down in sixty seconds.  Meet you at the rendezvous point.  How’s my Pammy look?~

How the hell is he supposed to answer that?  “Uh.  Judgy?  Kinda smolder-y?”

Harley giggles.  ~That’s my Pammy!~

.End.

[nardaviel]

Part 6 / ?, introducing seasons(!) and an exciting new supporting cast member(!!!).

Many images contained within. The tags have spoilers, if you care about that sort of thing and if it isn’t already too obvious to count as a spoiler.

Starting out strong again with a chance card from En, just like in the last post. En would definitely go with the experimental piece but it’s a bit nerve-wracking because he's going to be promoted today, I think, if he doesn't screw this up.

Never mind about the promotion, then. :c

Especially if he's going to be pissed off for the rest of his shift. Poor En-chan. I’m interested in Pig Nose Galaxy.

Congrats, Atsushi! Everyone’s money-earning skills are maxed now. :D Maybe this has something to do with the brilliant centerpieces he once again improvised at work.

Poor En. Rough day, I know.

He shouts some forbidden words to blow off steam. Everything seems a little easier to take after that. Nothing quite like screaming “FUCK! SHIT! COCKSUCKER!” in broad daylight in the middle of the street to cheer you up.

Atsushi is making that face because he's a pastry chef now! He lost one of his days off but he only works five hours a day now, so I guess it kind of evens out?

An uneventful day later, Kinshirou goes out to send a book to the publisher, but when he turns around... there he is.

So that night, Atsushi finally learns how to make those garlic decorations. Here are the wreaths! There are going to be braids indoors as well, in case a vampire ever breaks in. The boys aren’t 100% clear on how they work, except that Sims can't get eaten while there's garlic around. So the more garlic the better, as far as they’re concerned.

One of the saddest things (really the only sad thing besides the expense) about building a second story was that Hou-chan couldn't follow them into their bedrooms anymore. I'm glad she can climb stairs now that she's an adult kitty.

I got this far into the game, then took a long hiatus from TS4, during which time Seasons(!!!!!!!) came out. When I came back to the game, I decided I wanted to play around with the new gardening career and the changes to the gardening skill.

So guess who I made.

That's right. Their new neighbor has finally moved in.

Poor Ibushi, I made him a decent house (or the best house I could make with such an extremely tiny lot and limited budget) and then he could barely afford any furniture for it. No floor plan because I don't intend to spend much (or any?) more time in these posts following the Arima household. This is a Kinatsuen LP, after all. But we can take a look at his welcome wagon.

Ibushi: Ah, hello! Come in, don't mind the lack of furniture... En: *stares across the street at his own house* I could be asleep right now, but no.

Look at that grumpy face. Atsushi just dragged him out of bed ten minutes ago, didn't he. That’s why he’s not in the other screenshot. He was still getting dressed.

Kinshirou: Psst. Atchan. Atsushi: What is it? Kinshirou: There's barely any furniture in here. Atsushi: Shh! Don't be rude.

But the real reason Kinshirou is so uncomfortable is that Ibushi's sudden appearance makes the Veil series—in which the triad have a four-way romance with a guy named Ibushi Arima, who looks and behaves very much like this new neighbor—suddenly very strange and kind of creepy. Hopefully Ibushi isn't familiar with Kinshirou's work.

Atsushi has brought the fruitcake this time. He places it on the one surface in the entire house.

Ibushi thanks Kinshirou for coming very enthusiastically. (The shitty lighting, like the lack of furniture, is down to Ibushi's lack of cash. He has §3 right now.)

Ibushi: And can I say, it’s such an honor to meet you. I'm a big fan of your writing. Kinshirou: Ah... Thank you...

It was impossible to make a decent Ibushi Sim, though. As impossible as it is to take decent screenshots in this house with all these people here. I didn't think about that when I made it because I forgot about welcome wagons. But yeah, this is the best Ibushi I could get. He’s grown on me, though! I like him now. But I remember at first I was a little uncertain.

I ship it. Go sit on the bed with them, Atsushi.

Atsushi waited too long to make his move. En is disappointed too. That, or he's just jealous of Avery's fruitcake but he doesn’t want to get up to get his own.

What's up with Atsushi? Is he just pleased to see plants, or...?

Yep, he's just... talking to them. You have real humans you could talk to inside, sweetheart, but all right.

En: What are you doing out here all alone? Kinshirou: Are you talking to the plants? (Does he feel lonely? That’s the only time he talks to our plants...)

Just a reminder: I can’t control them right now. I’m playing Ibushi’s household. They autonomously came out here, one right after the other, to kiss Atsushi’s cheek...

...then to hug each other and congratulate each other on their good Atsushi-cheering teamwork.

Ibushi doesn’t have enough good things to say about Atsushi’s fruitcake.

Ibushi: One time when my grandmother fed us some fruitcake, it broke my cousin’s tooth, but yours was actually enjoyable. You have a real talent.

He follows up with what looks like a stressful attempt to tell an amusing story while Kinshirou passive-aggressively waters the plants. Look, Kinshirou, you're the one who arrived while he was in the middle of watering, okay. It’s your own fault he didn’t get it done.

En has wandered back in and now finds himself alone with their neighbor Avery. I wonder what’s going on with this interaction.

This is the face Kinshirou makes when he's listening very intently. Ibushi’s love of fruitcake must have caught his attention.

After the welcome wagon has wound down and everyone else has gone home, En remains, eating some of the last of Ibushi's non-fruitcake food. Thanks, En.

Ibushi hangs out with them all several times after this, but I usually don't bother with screencaps. Here's a short mostly-text recap of relevant or amusing happenings:

Ibushi sends Atsushi a happy text. Atsushi responds with something to the effect of "yeah isn't today great, let's hang out!!!" so they do, and Ibushi becomes friends with Atsushi before either of the others

Atsushi asks Ibushi if he wants to meet at the Spice Festival, Ibushi agrees because he was already at the Spice Festival anyway lmao

While they're there they spot En lurking by the curry contest wearing this

?????????????????????????????? Nice bracelets, En.

Ibushi chats with En online and befriends him also, making Kinshirou the last one he's not friends with? Weird

But almost as soon as he and En are friends, Kinshirou texts him asking him to go hang out in the park at 12:03am ... is he jealous ... it's especially suspicious because he takes Ibushi to the park that's mostly just a wedding venue. It starts raining as soon as they get there (Seasons!!!!!! best xpac) but they sit around in the rain anyway and become friends

"Incoming text message: En Yufuin. "Hey, I heard you became friends with Kinshirou Kusatsu! He's pretty cool!"" That is the most OOC thing the game has done so far

Atsushi invites Ibushi to the Romance Festival which is a little bit ??? until Ibushi goes and sees that En's come to sell paintings

Atsushi just wanted to bring his boyfriend more customers lmao. In any event, Ibushi splurges and buys both paintings. The diagram can make him focused which is good for gardening, and he just liked the doughnuts. I like how, when En goes out to sell his artwork, he brings a questionable mathematical diagram and a painting of sweets

So that's how things are going with the four of them, although I will say that by the time I start playing the Kinatsuen household, the inside of Ibushi’s house is looking much nicer and he's actually run out of space to put stuff. So don't worry about him, he's fine.

New with Seasons, a calendar that (among other things) tells me when everyone has a free day. Too bad I didn't have it when Enatsu were still struggling to go on a date.

Here's something troubling, though. The house is decorated that way (I think) because all the neighbors' houses get decorations relevant to the next holiday, and for a little while Kinatsuen were neighbors, not the active household. But they don't actually have the item that lets you add, remove, or change out decorations. So are they just going to be stuck with Halloween decorations forever...?

(No. Kinshirou will get them their box of decorations and insist on putting up seasonally appropriate decor.)

Also they need to get the gardening plants sorted out, now that most of them only grow in some seasons.

Look, I'm just really excited about the new glass roofs, okay. (Although why aren't there any white panes??? It looks so bad right now lol) I don't know why anyone would want to have a greenhouse on top of their bedroom but whatever, the game has HVAC now too. I just hope I don't forget the plants are there.

And now they finally have space (and money) for an observatory :D

I don't know what they're going to have beside the house where the plants were. Maybe that's where they'll make snowmen or whatever.

While Atsushi works and Kinshirou meditates, En explains the meaning of his newest painting to Hou-chan.

En: No, like, it’s abstract, right? So the fact that there’s no Loch Ness monster is the commentary on the Loch Ness monster. It could be anywhere, it could be nowhere. All you can see is the water.

For a while now, Atsushi has wanted to host a dinner party and cook for people. The arrival of their new neighbor (half a year ago since it’s now autumn but whatever okay) is a good opportunity.

As he gets started on a rack of lamb and En gets started on his dessert...

...Kinshirou introduces himself to Avery, even though they met earlier at Ibushi's welcome wagon, and possibly earlier than that at Kinatsuen’s own welcome wagon. Maybe Kinshirou doesn’t recognize him because he’s gotten old? I’ve done this too, forgetting you’ve already met someone. It’s super embarrassing.

It's a shame you have to invite 2+ guests to dinner parties tbh because I wanted it to just be the four of them. Ibushi looks pleased be here, at least.

They bought a stereo for ambiance during the party (i.e. it's part of one of the goals) but Hou-chan is terrified of it. :C

Looks like everyone’s pleased with the food.

And here’s a screenshot with just the important people, where their faces aren’t covered. What a nice dinner party. :D Good job, Atsushi!

screenshots that make you go hmmm

I would love to tell you what happened to En but I have, genuinely, no idea. I didn’t see it happen, there was no notif or informative moodlet afterwards... a mystery.

En and Atsushi are both asleep by the time the party's over because they're terrible hosts, so Kinshirou is the only one who gets to enjoy the confident moodlet they all got for their good party. It wasn't gold, but it was silver and that was all Atsushi needed for his cooking aspiration. So! Mission accomplished.

The next day is Halloween! I had to make it myself because it didn't come with the game. The holiday traditions are trick-or-treating, wearing costumes, telling stories, "spooky spirit", and decorating.

This is how I discovered that Sims can love or ignore traditions according to their personality traits. The more I play Seasons, the better it gets. En hates decorating and will not do it, but he likes wearing costumes... take that however you want. Meanwhile Kinshirou loves decorating (although the house was already decorated), he and Atsushi both love telling stories, and he ignores trick-or-treating because he's a snob <3

As soon as he wakes up, En gets in costume. It’s not a real premade outfit without a clippy hat!!

Kinshirou: What is that vulgar costume? I can't even look at it. En: Really? I thought you'd like it. It's from this porno where a guy—

Atsushi: En-chan, please, I'm not awake enough to play referee right now.

After breakfast En and Atsushi harass Kinshirou about costumes, until:

Atsushi: Kin-chan, your costume looks so good! En: Wow, yeah, it seriously does. Is that the supervillain costume? It’s a good look. Kinshirou: Ugh. These plebeian traditions...

Sims don’t work on Halloween, so Enatsu spend it telling each other spooky stories in costume.

Kinshirou, however, changes out of his costume as soon as possible and happily waters the plants.

Hou-chan is enjoying Halloween too!! As she deserves.

That evening, Atsushi handles the trick-or-treaters. He chooses to give treats to everyone so next year their house is going to be swarmed with kids, I suppose. The first time he does it, I have a minor freakout because it seems like it costs §75 to give a treat, but it turns out En has just spent §75 to start a medium-sized painting...

...which ends up being another impressionist masterpiece, and also, extremely cute.

Atsushi runs out back to burn this leaf pile behind their property that’s gotten gross, and that’s how I learn that adding spooky spirit to a holiday means lots of ghosts come out that night... so um.

Being the polite young man he is, he introduces himself. He’s terrified, poor thing.

Atsushi: Ah, yes, um, hello. Nice to meet you. I'm Atsushi. Ghost: I am Paolo. Atsushi: Paolo! Nice to meet you, Paolo. So um... what... brings you to these parts... eheheh...

This is honestly En’s new favorite place to sleep.

The next morning, they're all happy because of their awesome Halloween. Kinshirou decides to spend this wonderful morning up in the greenhouse researching Atsushi's plants, which are quickly becoming his plants.

The greenhouse which now has a white CC roof, thank god.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CONGRATS, EN

He didn't even need the good easel from the promotion reward lol. That was the only reason he was even working, if you’ve forgotten. To get that easel so he could finish his aspiration. But he's so close to getting it that it seems like a shame to have him quit now. One more promotion then you can quit, En!!

Oh, lord, what should his next aspiration be though. There's no ultimate procrastination advocate aspiration... I think he just wants to enjoy his success for a little while. No need to start on something else right away, right? He can just chill out for a bit.

Honestly, though, I was just trying to get him to make another playful doughnut painting like Ibushi bought, but instead he made a masterpiece-quality playful painting that's in all other respects exactly the same as the playful painting we already had.

Can you tell the difference? No? I'll tell you the difference: The difference is, the painting on the top is a masterpiece that is worth §2,000 more and emits much more playful vibes than the identical painting on the bottom.

Meanwhile, Kin-chan has learned how to comfort himself with plants when he's lonely, even though there’s a cat right next to him.

And Atsushi is happily drinking tea that he believes to be “healthy green” tea. For once, En is the only Sim who has it together.

On the other hand, Kinshirou really is far and away the biggest earner in the household. Jeez. That's §4,621 right there. For comparison, that masterpiece of En's was his most expensive ever at about §2,300, and I almost never sell his masterpieces anyway because I feel bad about it. Atsushi brings in a little more than §500 a day.

En painted a second masterpiece in a row. He's so talented. :D That's a strange choice of subject for a flirty painting, though, since they're all dudes.

In the spirit of letting En have a chill time now that his aspiration is done, I downloaded a custom aspiration for him that's just about fulfilling whims. His life goal right now is to do whatever he feels like at any given moment. Very En, I think. Also I never pay attention to whims, so maybe this will get me to start.

Ibushi invites En over to hang out and En brings Kinshirou with him. A fun, relaxing afternoon at a friend’s.

...is what they think but then they arrive to find Ibushi literally freezing to death outside his home. It’s so cold out wtf why isn’t he wearing his cold weather clothes??

Everyone else is in their cold weather outfits! Why are you just standing around in short sleeves, Ibushi!!! God.

Despite the fact that he is near death, En has to practically drag him indoors and turn on the heat for him.

Ibushi: So cold :c En: Hey, here's an idea. Ibushi: Mm? En: Why don't you change into some warm clothes? You know, since it's freezing cold out?

Ibushi: Oh. You mean like this? En: ...yeah. Nice sweater.

Ibushi: *sensing sarcasm* Thank you. It's a shame I can't say the same about yours.

It’s at this moment, watching Ibushi, that I learned that uncomfortable Sims' lips tremble like they're about to start crying. He looks so sad and pathetic that I feel kind of bad, but like... honestly why didn't he just put on a sweater.

Here’s Woody Arima, the puppy Ibushi adopted. An aggressive little bby who barks all the time, but he's very loyal! And Ibushi was charmed by how he tries to be all fierce when he's so tiny. He’s a bit dirty now but don’t worry about that, it’ll be taken care of.

Apparently, Kinshirou is the type of guy who comes over to your house and then spends the whole time on your computer, chatting with other people.

En: Hahaha, that's hilari... huh? Kinshirou, where are you going? Kinshirou: I'm bathing your puppy, Ibushi. He's filthy. Ibushi: Oh, you don't need to— En: No, let him do it. Cleaning things makes him happy.

Presented without comment.

And then...

En: You're a good guy, you know? A good friend. Ibushi: You are too, I suppose. Despite the state of your winter clothes. En: Yeah, okay, whatever. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I don't think I have a better friend than you. Ibushi: Yes, I... feel the same way, En. En: ...You know what we have to do now? Ibushi: I believe so.

So now En and Ibushi are BFFs.

(I know this is a bit odd but my logic goes like this: Only one Kinatsuen couple can be BFFs since you can't have more than one, Kinshirou has to be married to his BFF for his aspiration so he has to be half of the BFF couple, and Kinatsu is a much more likely BFF duo than Enkin. So I'm glad En has someone to be best friends with now. Even if the lighting in these screenshots still makes me sigh sadly.)

Upstairs, Kinshirou is having a fun time doing his favorite activity: cleaning.

Clean doggo. The true Woody!

En chats with his new BFF a little more before he and Kinshirou have to head home to see Atsushi. In the background, all Ibushi’s plants are growing happily. I told you his house got less depressing.

When they get back, En plays in a leaf pile behind the house. What else are leaf piles for if not to play in, right??? We’ll get an answer to that later on in the post actually. In the background, Atsushi trots around being responsible and burning old piles that have started to rot.

Is this what fulfilling whims does for Sims? I should be doing it all the time. He’s so happy.

Atsushi: *singing under his breath* Cool guys don’t look at explosions... they blow things up and then walk away...

Lmao he won't go up to the door anymore. He just stands awkwardly at the top of the front steps for a while and then leaves.

A rare cutaway walls screenshot to show Kinshirou and En not even sharing a bed but sleeping in each other’s beds. (Also, yes, they leave the bathroom light on at night.)

Zundar begins to show his true colors. Although who detected these trace signatures of radiation, exactly?

Uh-oh. Is this his response to Kinshirou's biography of him? An autobiography written under a pseudonym?? Two different narratives competing for the public's attention???

While En and Atsushi are at work, Kinshirou and Hou-chan bond and become companions. :D He’s not concerned about your autobiography, Zundar.

A true modern relationship: Complaining about work to your gay boyfriend while he cranes his neck to look at you from his adjacent computer desk.

Atsushi curls his lip in contempt. He must have had a real bad day. Maybe he just needs to wear his glasses to work?

I am not gonna lie, he looks really, really attractive here.

Atsushi: You know what, Kin-chan? I'm sick of coming home every day with a headache. I'm wearing my glasses to work and if my boss doesn't like it, I'll talk to HR.

I can't believe it took me this long to google "how to edit someones work outfit in sims 4". God.

In fact, changing out of his work clothes altogether and meditating seems like a good plan right now.

He did it! That’s the easel! Congrats, En, now you can quit your job! That is a huge pay raise, though, it almost seems like a shame...

But look at that sulky face. He just wants to be done.

He and Atsushi both came home really wanting a vacation. Is it getting to be that time again...? I've been kind of wanting to send someone to Selvadorada. If Atsushi starts constantly getting the moodlet, maybe I'll think about it.

But before En quits his job, he has a plan.

En: Hello? Hi, it's Yufuin. Sorry about this, a last-minute thing came up and I'm going to need to take all my paid time off starting tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow. Thanks.

The new easel for which he toiled so long. His first two paintings on it are masterpieces :D

Other Sims just have whims about playing in leaves and stuff during autumn, but Kinshirou daydreams about doing chores. Who am I to deny him?

Oh, no... Hou-chan is scared of their nice cozy fireplace too...

Atsushi: Hey, hey, it's all right, Hou-chan. It won't hurt you.

En: Hey, welcome back. You worked hard out there, huh?

En: How about claiming your reward? ;) Kinshirou: What? En: ;))) Kinshirou: ...Ah.

Kinshirou: Very well.

Kinshirou: This is absurd. You come up with the most ridiculous ideas. En: You say that like you don't like it, but you’re smiling at me.

En: Now come on. Kinshirou: So abruptly—!

En: Yeah.

This is my new favorite WooHoo location. It’s a shame it’s only available during fall.

Kinshirou: Ah, you have a leaf on you. En: Oh, thanks. Kinshirou: Of course, you might not be so disheveled if you hadn’t rolled us around so much... En: Oh, really? Should I do it less next time then? Kinshirou: ... En: That’s what I thought.

Atsushi is having a nice time in front of the fire watching a cooking show, oblivious to the debauchery taking place on his own front lawn.

Kinshirou: ...and now the leaves are scattered around the yard again. Perhaps I should have predicted that. I suppose I should get them back in order. En: You really don't have to, you know. No one's going to care if you wait until morning. Kinshirou: I will care. En: Well, I'm going to sleep. Come find me when you're done. Kinshirou: ...I'll spend the night with Atchan.

How are those wedding plans coming along? Since Kinshirou probably won’t let him sleep all day, what is En even going to do with all his new free time? When will they move out, and what will happen to their neighborly relationship with Ibushi when they do? Are they actually going to go to Selvadorada? I can’t guarantee that most of those questions will be answered soon but I can promise that the next part will include, among other things, such delights(?) as Pretty Boy Day and En doing yoga.

[jessi-31days-blog]

Day 3, Tuesday, October 3rd

I wake up at 9:30 am, attack my phone alarm with a vigorous "fuck that" and set it again for 10:30 am. My alarm goes off at 10:30 am, and I officially wake up.

I fell asleep around 1:00 am last night, and I mentioned yesterday how I love my 9 hours. I'll try to go to bed earlier tonight. I had a dream that someone was trying to force me to drink blood, so if any of you super cool dream interpreters can guess what that means, let me know.

Yoga class - "Pranayama Yoga To Move Energy" - 12:34:

SIKE!

 Apparently while doyogawithme.com has lots of free classes, but a few videos are subscription only. So when I click on the link to this video and see "subscription only" I simultaneously roll my eyes and harshly exhale out of both nostrils at this minor inconvenience. Ah, yes, minor inconveniences; the bane of any millennial's existence. The same video is provided for tomorrow, so I will have to find yet another replacement for it for day 4. Okay, now for real this time...

Yoga class - "3 Yoga Breathing Exercises for Anxiety" by Caren Baginski on YouTube - 7 mins:

If you try this video, you'll noticed I picked a pretty easy video for today. It was very helpful, especially the switching nostrils one (forgot what that one was called). I'll need to remember these when I have anxiety.

Guided Meditation - "Transform Yourself" - 15 mins:

Okay guys, I have a confession to make on this one. My brain could not shut off and I was too restless, so I only made it through 8 minutes of this guided meditation. I tried to follow the imagery of imagining light flowing through my body, and I did my best but it didn't help much. One thing the speaker said that I will mention is that you choose how you think and feel about yourself, your life, and your surrounding. And while people with mental illness such as myself can often think the opposite, that you can't control how you feel or think, in many ways you actually can. More often than not it's within the means of actually forcing yourself to replace the negative intrusive thoughts with positive or realistic thoughts than actually making yourself feel something, but if and when you continue to make yourself think healthily, you'll start to feel better emotionally. This is easier said than done, but it is true.

Read a Proverb - Proverbs 3:

This is a pretty famous chapter of Proverbs for Christians and Catholics of the world. In it are these verses, 5 & 6: "Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take." I first read these verses in early 2010. The fact that I can actually remember the year is pretty cool, since my memory pretty much sucks. Actually, my memory basically works of it's own will, selecting at random what information I will and will not remember. Anyways, these verses have always had a lot of meaning to me. It pretty much sums up God's intended experience for a person who believes in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and His salvation. That's why I don't worry too much about how my life goes and the way I choose to live it. As long as I'm saved, and I believe I am, regardless of what happens to me, I know how things will turn out for me in the very end.

The rest of the chapter reiterated the theme of Proverbs, which is to delight in wisdom, knowledge, and understanding, so that you live a good life. It ends with some good general pieces of advice for life: use common sense, when you see someone who needs help, don't hesitate to help them, don't hurt people, don't pick petty fights with people, don't act like violent people act, and if you dedicate your life to wisdom, you will "inherit honor".

Blog post - TWLOHA - "Beyond Shades of Gray" by Sharleigh Thomson:

At the beginning of this article, Sharleigh defines how we as a society talk about something clear and defined. "You've either attempted or you haven't." But then she begins to describe what she calls a gray zone as the place where you desperately want to escape from the pain and being willing to die to do so. "A place where you might have the means, the will, the plan, the note—everything but the follow through." And good fucking god, I know what the gray zone is like. I instantly identified with the author of this blog post. She proceeded to describe how she was once unable to find the words to truly explain her experience and her pain. That there weren't enough syllables in the English language to describe just how hard what she was going through was. She started talk therapy, but had trouble opening up and finding the words to explain herself to her therapist. He suggested that she start writing down how she was feeling. My therapist told me to do the same thing, and I reacted the way Sharleigh did: with stubbornness. At that time she believed that writing was some sort of cop out. I used to believe that if I couldn't find a way to say it out loud, how the hell can I get it one paper? Well, as I've discovered, the opposite is true sometimes. If I can get my thoughts, whether they are complete sentences or not, out on paper (or most likely, the notes app on my computer), then I can form the way to say it out loud. As a matter of fact, writing down my train of thoughts has lead me to more epiphanies than I ever expected... I've got to start doing it again.

Finally, after another suicidal episode, Sharleigh gave in and began writing. She said that it started out dark and emotional, but eventually became something personal, beautiful, and hopeful. She found a way to break down her problems in her writing. Then she began to write plays, poetry, and blog posts about her experiences with mental health and suicide. Hey, I'm doing that last thing now! What a coincidence.

I haven't written poetry since I was a teenager. My poetry back then varied in quality, a good portion of them being angsty emo depression poetry about how much I hated my life. But I'm sure if I looked back into my old journals (which I somehow still have after losing the rest of my belongings over the course of a few months before moving to Florida), I could find two or three good ones. I wish I remembered how to write poetry. Not that it's all that hard, so long as you're good with words. But I have no idea what to write a poem about. I don't want to write one about my depression or anxiety, because I have grown to enjoy poetry that ends on a positive note, and I have yet to find a positive note for a poem about depression. It's not that I'm this huge pessimist, I know there's a light at the end of this dark ass stanky ass tunnel, but I just don't know how to end a poem anymore. I don't like writing poems about nature, because those are boring. I have a sense of humor, but for some reason I'm put off by funny poems. Oh well, maybe I'll find something to write a poem about someday.

As the blog post starts to near it's end, Sharleigh tells of how she rebuilt herself through writing, and how while she still feels darkness, she's still willing to keep creating things and searching for hope when times get hard. I'm trying to have that same attitude. Practice makes perfect, I suppose. She ends the post with some encouragement to stay alive, to find a way to make your voice heard, and most importantly, to find what you were made for. I appreciate the encouragement she offered, and I hope others who read that article find comfort in them, but more often than not I read inspiring words and ideas and they have little to no affect on me. It's the reading equivalent of "in one ear, out the other" (in one eye, out the other? I don't know). But when push comes to shove, I do get it. Really, I do. And she's not wrong. I suppose one day I'll find myself smack dab in the middle of what I was made to do. Maybe I'm doing it now. Regardless, though I don't feel encouraged, I'm choosing to be encouraged. I'm making it my state of mind rather than waiting to feel warm and fuzzy. It's all I've got right now.

Encouraging someone on reddit - r/anxiety:

I found an easy one. And when I say easy, I mean I had the experience to give to this person who was nervous about increasing their dosage of their antidepressant. They said they were afraid that increasing their dose from 10mg to 20mg would make them feel "weird". I let out a light chuckle when I read that, because if any psychiatric drug is gonna make you feel "weird" (or in my case, a fucking zombie), it's not the antidepressants; it's the antipsychotics. I told them about how I was misdiagnosed a year ago during my mental breakdown and was put on some VERY HEAVY antipsychotic drugs, which made me act like a robot. Ask my dad, he saw me a lot at that time. I had no emotions. My mother, who at this point lived across the country from me, even noticed that I was different. Now I'm not saying antipsychotics are bad, because some people really do need them. But if you don't need them, they definitely make you more numb than anyone needs to be, and not the "high" kind of numb, but the "I feel literally nothing; good or bad" kind of numb. I then told this person that I have had times in my life where I was only on an antidepressant. I've tried a bunch, and coincidentally, along with my vast experience with psychiatric medications, I've also experienced being on Lexapro alone. So I told them it doesn't make you feel weird, and that it is more likely to help them than anything. Or a bit less likely (but still possible), it could just not work for them at all and they need to try a different antidepressant. All in all, I hope I at the very least encouraged them not to be afraid to increase their medication, so long as the doctor says it's best.

Walk:

The neighbors came by today to let us know a few sex offenders live in our neighborhood. One guy even lives just a few houses down. Fortunately, all the ones closest to us are child sex offenders, so I'm pretty sure I'm too old for them to want to assault. Regardless, my mom made me take her stun gun with me while I went for my walk. I listened to another one of my favorite bands, Gazpacho, this time. It was nice and peaceful. On my way back a dog started following and barking at me for a few yards, until its owner got it to go back to its house. I laughed as this was quite amusing. Instead of getting followed by creepy sex offenders as my mother fears, I was getting followed by a medium sized brown yapping dog. When I got home I felt refreshed, and my depression went from like a 8 down to a 6, so there was some improvement. End of Day Notes: I don’t know if I feel any different yet. But then again, it’s only the end of day 3. Any noticeable improvements seem small: the morning pranayama yoga centers and calms me for the day, I’m starting a routine which always brings a sense of accomplishment, I’m learning a few things from what I’m reading, and I’m getting better at giving encouragement or advice. So at least it’s something. P.S. I promise I’ll make this blog look pretty at some point. I could have done it today, but along with all my goals, I spent 3 hours cleaning to whole house, so I didn’t have time to work on this blog’s appearance.