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Generation 1.1
dinuriel wrote in legacyproject

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I never would've splurged on a such a pricy apartment if it didn't have a secret room.

Uncle Charlie's hayloft has a secret room. Well, not really a room, not exactly; just a section of floor off to the side, sealed off by a wall, the ceiling so low that you had to crawl. I used to sneak snacks there as a kid, mass-produced junk and the odd banned book and the heavy metal music Aunt Nellie didn't allow in the house. When I was older, it was boys. Don't ask me how that half-rotten floor survived prom night.

I'm an adult now--just graduated with a degree in literature from Académie Le Tour, summa cum laude thank you very much--and if I want a snack, I can eat it in the kitchen or the bedroom or wherever the hell I want. I can line my shelves with naughty books and blast heavy metal until my ears bleed. Boys? I don't need a secret room for boys. I can have boys on my balcony for the whole city to see. I'm a big girl and I can do what I want.


And right now, what I want to do is hide from my new landlord and his lame jokes.

The secret room is the only room I've furnished so far, and only because it's tiny. Desk, chair, computer--and now I have my own private office and I can start looking for work without any interruptions.

There's a posting for a waitress, plus one for a movie critic and another for some kind of field research. And one for an assemblyperson, because everyone knows the best way to find democratic representatives is via Craigslist. That's about it, unless you count the banner ad for the military. None of them interest me much, but that's okay. There's enough cash left in my trust fund to hold me over until I find something worthwhile. Might as well browse for bedroom furniture.



The master bedroom is yellow. I'm not all that big on yellow, but I don't know if the landlord wants me tearing out the carpet and redoing the walls--plus the whole 'budget' thing. So I compromise and offset it with some purple.

Oh, and the delivery? Oh my great platinum Plumb-Bob god. This stuff couldn't have gotten here any faster if it fell from the sky.


Not sure if I want to decorate the whole place all at once, though, so I grab the phone and punch in the matchmaker's digits. Might as well go for some male companionship while I'm still on my post-graduation kick.


The matchmaker gets here pretty quickly, even if she does take longer than the furniture did. Her name is Lindsay Lewis and she arranges things for everyone on campus; my place isn't all that far, so it makes sense that she covers my area. I was kind of hoping for someone else, though. I like Lindsay, but...

"Well, Ariel, you know how it is. The crystal ball only gives you what you pay for."

Yeah. Then again, maybe it's stupid to think there's a matchmaker in town with a flat rate.

I fork over more money than I want to part with, but what can I say--I don't want to spend my first day in the new place with a total loser, or some starry-eyed dreamer who's fixing for a commitment. Hey, I'm a rolling stone. Marriage? That'd be a waste of both my time and his.

"Just make sure he's not geriatric this time, okay? The last guy you brought me could barely get it up."

Lindsay gives a knowing smirk. "'Barely' still says he did."

Hey, at least the old lady can joke. "Well, yeah, but it took a while. And it didn't last very long."

She chuckles as she takes out her orb and starts to work her magic. "Well, honey--you won't have that problem with this one."


His name is Sinjin. He's clean-shaven, which is a shame, but other than that... well, she could have summoned much worse.

"Want to come inside?"

Lindsay snickers. She always did love a good double entendre.


Sinjin takes me up on that offer. "Pretty bare, isn't it?" He sounds kind of neutral. Maybe he's not impressed, but then again maybe he's a floor man. I could go for the latter.

"I just moved in today. Haven't had a chance to decorate most of the place."

We talk for a while--the usual getting to know each other routine, what do you do, where are you from, what do you like, all that. Turns out he's from Pleasantview and he has a sister. And a cat. Maybe I should get a cat.


We eventually get a little silly. He's ticklish.


And not all that wild about personal space.

The rest of the date goes pretty well.





Okay, really well.

Turns out...


...maybe a little too well.






NOTE: As a storyteller, I have to say--I have a new admiration for gameplay legacy writers now. Staging pictures is as tough as you make it, but taking candid shots while actually playing the game? That's a challenge. I'm not even going to guess how many times I missed a shot of Ariel throwing up.

Anyway. Yay for trying new things?

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Thanks Joseph :P

I hope you continue to enjoy :)

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