Apparently the Grim Reaper's reprieves are sometimes numbered on the order of minutes. Immediately upon starting the day, the phones start ringing to let everyone know that Jwhouk and Dei have died.
After that downer of a start, Null grills up some hot dogs for breakfast.
Certain people are too impatient for that, though, and grab leftovers.
Breakfast is a bit of a mirthless affair.
Many are too busy indulging in their coping mechanisms to go, or are at least delayed by them.
And then Null and Sparhawk get into a heated argument, casting even more of an unpleasant pallor over the meal.
Sara seeks solace in the form of her intellectual pursuits, but it's hard to get into the swing of things, even with a focused moodlet.
Playing the lottery, however, has inspired the more creatively-inclined residents of Household 5. Zappit tries his hand at making some pop art.
Null decides to try his hand at non-fiction, while Bhamv practices her charisma in front of the mirror.
This should sell, right?
Tiger attempts Karaoke, and manages to clear the joint out. Well, the upstairs, at least.
Sparhawk heads to work, a veritable rainbow of emotion. Should be an interesting day.
Ghost doggies need love too.
When he finishes his painting, Zappit decides it's time for a nap.
Sara's having a hard time making much headway with that rocket.
Whup, there we go... we knew something would be coming. On his way to the basement to play video games, Tiger Tsang suddenly feels like having a little bit of a lie down, right there.
Hey, Null finishes his book at that same moment. It's not the worst thing ever. He sends it off to the publisher.
Sara is Tiger's closest friend in the house, she pleads for his life.
Death is not moved.
Tiger is now one of the countless people struggling with being living-impaired.
Sara tries to perk herself up, but Tiger interrupts her by possessing the bathroom sink.
"Well hey there, tall, dark, and gruesome... come here often?" "Third time so far, but the day's not over yet."
Sara's about ready to just give up on this. She can't concentrate.
Klew needs to get 4 skills to 4, and he's only got 1: Logic. However, his Dancing is at about 3.9... still it takes him all afternoon to get to 4 because people keep socializing with him.
Null shares a juicy story with the microwave.
"Hey, you guys won't believe what the microwave just said about you..."
Bhamv takes a nap in the foyer.
Tiger's feeling pretty enegetic, though, for a newly dead guy. He works the punching bag, but as he's still technically an elder, he wears himself out pretty fast.
Whup, looks like Klew might have danced his last dance.
Once again, Sara's words fail to move the Reaper, and Klew sails for distant shores.
"Well, this sucks."
Bhamv and Grim get to know each other a little better.
I don't see any of the usual suspects around the neighborhood all day... just Tinwhistler...
...And the notably youthful and newly fitness-minded Vero.
With all the negative ghostly emotions going around, it's a very brief interval before the coffee pot, the bathroom sink, and the arcade machine in the basement are all broken. Sara's going to have her work cut out for her when she wakes up from her nap.
Oh. Uh... yeah... about that...
Tiger's her closest pal in the house, but he and Zappit are napping in the hot tub, and he might not make it in time to intercede on her behalf.
So it falls upon Klew to make the case for sparing Sara.
Well, that's how that worked out.
Dancing with Death. I thought it was supposed to be "dicing?"
Death then raids the fridge for a hot dog.
Well, I guess Sara has time to fix all those broken appliances now, huh...
And speaking of time... Sparhawk's has just run out.
It's all too much for Null... he's now an emotion bomb.
Is Bhamv now going to be the last living being standing in household 5?
No! Sara actually manages to succeed in convincing the Reaper! Sparhawk is returned to life, for now.
Zappit can't deal with the emotional rollercoaster, and has a meltdown.
"We gotta stop meeting like this... what's a psychopomp do when he's not on the clock, hmmm?"
Sparhawk now has a little bit more life on earth to spend. How much? I guess we'll find out...
Well, there's a problem... I went to go start up and play Household 2....
.... and everybody was dead. There were no surviving members of Household 2. Dirona, MikeRC, Squidley.... all gone.
Looking around, I realized almost everybody in ALL the households was dead. There were only 4 surviving HF sims.
So... I moved the remaining survivors into one house, and we will see this through to the end (or until I deem it finished anyway)...
Without further ado:
Friday, 6th of Fall, The Final Survivors
And Then There Were Four
This is all that is left. Somehow, Wasabi's managed to beat the odds, as well as Tinwhistler. Bhamv was a teenager when this all started, so no surprise she's survived, and of course, Vero's copious use of age-reversing potions has kept her wrinkle-free as well.
I've moved them into a new house that Dei designed. Everybody but Bhamv is pretty bummed about all their friends and loved ones being dead, so today is kind of subdued.
Wasabi decides to get into cooking, and makes herself some breakfast. Bhamv just zaps something in the microwave, and the indigestion gives her trouble the rest of the day.
I move some plants so that Tinwhistler can have a rocket to build.
Breakfast is kind of on the quiet side, with everybody watching TV while they eat.
Wasabi's already pretty good friends with everybody there, from her party-throwing days.
A lot of folks spend much of the day finding ways to cope with their grief and loss.
Bhamv decides to go shower in the thunderstorm. Luckily, she is not struck by lightning.
The kitchen's a little on the crowded side.
Vero and Tin discuss the move.
Wasabi and Bhamv play some vidya.
Seems like the kitchen bar is more popular than the dining room table.
Somebody turns on the stereo, and it's an instant dance party.
GasBandit texts Tin from beyond the grave, which is a real trick considering his urn is alone and unbeckoned, so he shouldn't even be in the world.
Well, whatever, Tin's got a rocket to build.
Bhamv flirts with the kitchen trash.
Mid-afternoon, Vero grabs a catnap.
Bhamv decides she'd rather caffeinate.
And she goes right back for another helping, then another.... it's starting to affect her adversely.
She yells at Wasabi.
After 5 hours of working on the rocket, it's a little less than halfway done, but Tinwhistler is pooped and goes inside for a nap.
Wasabi goes out for some activity, but almost immediately decides she's too tired for this shit today.
Bhamv grabs a PBJ for dinner, and watches the toob.
Bhamv goes to nap just as Wasabi's waking up from hers, and 'Sabi goes on to make herself some chips and salsa for dinner.
Well, um, at least she's getting better, I guess?
After eating, she relaxes in the jacuzzi-bath. Mmmm, jets.
Bhamv wakes back up, and then there is more dancing.
And more yelling and insulting. This friendship is sliding downwards fast.
Everybody else has gone to bed, but Bhamv is still hearing voices.
A vampire comes to the door.
Bhamv flirts with him...
... and then starts insulting him. Bhamv, negging doesn't really work, you know?
After a prolonged abuse session, Bhamv tells him to hit the bricks. Vlad is now definitely in the "not a fan of Bhamv" category.
When last we left the survivors, everybody was asleep except Tin, who was getting an early start on his rocket. No, that's not a euphemism.
It only takes him a couple hours to work up a truly malodorous sweat, so he goes and has a shower.
Vero wakes up and helps herself to a ham sandwich.
I know how things go around here, so I go ahead and have Tin do a little pro-active preventative upgrading to the kitchen sink.
Wasabi wakes up and microwaves herself a bowl of oatmeal. Gettin' to be asses-n'-elbows in the kitchen.
Tin and Vero get to know each other a little better.
Wasabi's oatmeal does not sit well.
Tinwhistler gets back to work on his spaceship.
Vero and Wasabi engage in a spirited round of vidya.
The late-night-vampire-frustrator finally wakes up, and goes to make herself a BLT.
She makes a big mess whitch Wasabi, in one of her more energetic whims, cleans up.
Vero starts feeling cooped up, so she heads out into the neighborhood to pick wild produce. She finds a few onions and a whole bunch of apples, which she brings home and stows in the fridge.
Tin's bladder tells him that's enough rocket science for one day.
No sooner does he finish emptying said bladder, than he gets back to filling it up again.
Vero has a relaxing bath.
Wasabi grills herself up a mid-afternoon cheese.
Bhamv picks an argument with Tinwhistler.
Seems like Tin got the better of that little exchange. Bhamv is pissed off for several hours.
Tin decides to try stretching his culinary legs a little, and whips up a whole bunch of pancakes, only spilling one or two out of the pan in the process.
That's a good way to get hemorrhoids, Bhamv.
Grue's ghost calls up Vero and invites her out to the romance festival. I have everybody else tag along.
Bhamv immediately starts yelling and insulting everybody.
Tin's more in the spirit of the event.
Wasabi goes to the bar across the street to use the john, and gets herself a drink. The toilet was REALLY impressive, and it's got her in a focused mood. How is that even a thing??
Bhamv continues to be a complete and utter churl.
After a few hours, Tin's really feeling tired, so everybody heads home. Tin goes straight to bed.
Bhamv kicks back in the tub and lets the jets do their soothing work.
Wasabi's feeling energetic again, so she hits the treadmill.
Bubble's not around to cook for her anymore, so Vero hits cooking skill 4.
Wasabi overdoes it on the treadmill, which doesn't take much if you're an elder. She trundles off to bed.
In just two days, Bhamv has managed to undo almost every pixel of good will any of her roommates have held for her. She's still awake for several hours after everybody else is asleep, so I figure I better have her practice her charisma in the mirror until she gets tired.
Hey, you could summon a friendly ghost to make you a subtly infused aged milk rye tostada with fresh herbs, but feel free to just slap some American I-can't-believe-you're-allowed-to-call-it-cheese product on a piece of Wonderbread and call it high cuisine