Earlier that month was when many things started to pile up. Some good. Some bad.
The Tågevalgten have long since been fractured to pieces and scattered by a rolling average of ferocity from monsterkind. The rift is somewhat sealed after a mass of sacrifices, but still, it's been spewing more interdimensional garbage every morning than the former mutants combed from N. Sanity beach in a single year.
And something reeks of sewage and death so much that it's far-reaching across Bavan.
That's not counting how the true assignments for new monsters were just starting to show themselves. Nausea and ravenous hunger became a source of deja vu, but at least everyone could get a decent night's sleep.
Meanwhile, at the single bit of good news at the Bandicoot House was the abundance of offers made to Crash from the city's wealthy cream of the crop. Politicians, CEOs, and young socialites clamored with their fattest wads of solars for a minotaur as a bodyguard. Sometimes he was too nice for his own good, but eventually, the hog minotaur settled on which of the knocking opportunities to pursue.
By the time the middle of the month rolled around, a status quo was established that while Crash had less time to be home or with his sister, there was now an abundance of storebought food (alongside anything wild-caught), clothing to their individual tastes, and creature comforts in the house.
A source of steady riches never took over their humble tastes on the island. That wouldn't change here either.
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timeasmymeasure
Bandicoots in Ryslig PSL: Paranoia Agent
Date: 2021-09-21 02:45 am (UTC)And this.
Earlier that month was when many things started to pile up. Some good. Some bad.
The Tågevalgten have long since been fractured to pieces and scattered by a rolling average of ferocity from monsterkind. The rift is somewhat sealed after a mass of sacrifices, but still, it's been spewing more interdimensional garbage every morning than the former mutants combed from N. Sanity beach in a single year.
And something reeks of sewage and death so much that it's far-reaching across Bavan.
That's not counting how the true assignments for new monsters were just starting to show themselves. Nausea and ravenous hunger became a source of deja vu, but at least everyone could get a decent night's sleep.
Meanwhile, at the single bit of good news at the Bandicoot House was the abundance of offers made to Crash from the city's wealthy cream of the crop. Politicians, CEOs, and young socialites clamored with their fattest wads of solars for a minotaur as a bodyguard. Sometimes he was too nice for his own good, but eventually, the hog minotaur settled on which of the knocking opportunities to pursue.
By the time the middle of the month rolled around, a status quo was established that while Crash had less time to be home or with his sister, there was now an abundance of storebought food (alongside anything wild-caught), clothing to their individual tastes, and creature comforts in the house.
A source of steady riches never took over their humble tastes on the island. That wouldn't change here either.