1.9 Glitchiffy!

Hello again! After a crazy weekend at work, I now have three glorious days of freedom. And guess what that means? More Langurds, of course! Because that’s what everyone wants in life.

Last time, Morgana gave birth to triplets Ripper, Rotter, and Razor, the first of our eligible Generation Two children. Tuesday went into labour, but the chapter was getting tediously long so I left her hanging like the gracious creator I am.

Tuesday: Get to it already, will you? I’ve been in labour for sixty-five hours, thank you very much!

Alright, alright. Off to the hospital you go.

Tuesday emerged several hours later with a beautiful baby girl, Arabella! I have blurred out the right side of the picture for dramatic purposes because apparently I don’t think of these things when I’m actually taking the screenshots.

Arabella Steel was born on a Wednesday (Week 4, Day 4) at 1:58am. She is a Sagittarius who appreciates classical music, French toast, and all things hot pink. She was born with the Good trait and rolled Easily Impressed, which is kind of boring if you ask me, but I think I like her, probably.

Tuesday: You like her, but that’s because you didn’t just spend three days giving birth to the little nightmare.

Aaaaand grumpy Tuesday is back, folks. But that’s okay, because my grand plan could not be working out more perfectly! Muahahaha.

Or it was going perfectly, UNTIL THIS HAPPENED. As you might have guessed from my mediocre editing job up there, Christopher ruined everything by walking out those doors with a second baby. Yeah. Apparently one of Twallan’s mods got rid of the eight-sim cap, and because I am a noob, I was unaware of this until now. Thus, here at the nine-person Langurd household, we have unwittingly broken the Official Legacy Rules. QUICK, CHRIS, PUT IT BACK!

Christopher: Sheesh. Why do you have to criticize everything I do? This is my daughter we’re talking about.

FINE, we’ll keep it then. Oh god oh god, what are we going to do?

This little disaster child is Cleopatra Steel, because I didn’t have a second name prepared and Chris already has a kid named Cesar so what does it really matter, you know? Cleo was born at 1:59am, is a Perceptive Virtuoso, and likes white, veggi rolls, and kids’ music. Congratulations, kid. You may have singlehandedly ruined this whole legacy.

Cleopatra: Goo!

And that was when Tuesday disappeared from my side panel and things started to get really freaky…

Tuesday: أود القمامة البطاطا الأسماك الجبن.

Arabella: Haters gonna hate.

Tuesday: أنا امرأة، تسمعني تحطيم!

Chris: For I am Atlas, bearer of the celestial sphere!

Arabella: And I am Queen of the Universe! Hahahahahaha! All hail Princess Celestia Arabella! HAHAHAHAHA—

Razor (probably): THIS IS MADNESS!

No, darling—this is Sunset Valley, and it can only handle so much chaos without exploding in a mess of Script Errors and stuck Sims. There are certain measures that need to be taken. And so, after much careful deliberation…

Chris: Welp, see ya.

Arabella: Wait, Daddy! Aren’t you forgetting something?

Chris: Nope.

Unfortunately, I decided it was in everyone’s best interests to do some evictions. (It was going to happen sooner or later anyway.) The reason I had Chris move in to begin with was so he could produce some genetically awesome offspring for me. Scratch that—it was because he stole the football. But the offspring thing was a secondary reason, and if y’all thought it was for the sake of the brohood then you were kidding yourselves. So anyway, it came down to this: I couldn’t keep them all in the house because it would have been glitchy to infinity and beyond. I couldn’t separate Chris and Tuesday, because then I would have nothing left to live for, and I couldn’t take both girls away from them because that would just be sad—and besides, Morgana’s stupid LTW requires two empty spaces in the household. So basically, I had to pick one of the twins (without having any idea of their future looks or personalities or ANYTHING) as a potential Generation Two spouse. AHHHHH.

Then I realized that, if we’re sticking strictly to legacy rules, Cleopatra technically never existed. So I kicked her out along with her glitch-ridden parents, and that was that. Goodbye, Christopher and Tuesday. 😦

But the show must go on. And so it happened that Morgana stayed true to her word and took in the daughter of Tuesday Steel as the precious Chosen One, neglecting her own three sons in the process.

Morgana: Why hello there, little one! I guess you’re mine now.

Arabella: Foolish woman, I will not be fed lies! I will gladly be fed a bottle, though, if you please.

Oh dear.

I guess one good thing that came of this catastrophe is that the legacy is living up to its misspelled name once again:

Yes, that’s much better.

Naturally, with four screaming newborns in the house, Tewl and Morgana decided it was time for MORE kids.

Morgana: I hope it looks just like you, Snoogie-Woogums.

Tewl: Sure thang! Little brat better inherit dese tattoos or Imma whoop his ass.

You are simply appalling.

Tewl: Thank you.

With Chris gone, apparently somebody had to fill his spot and fret over their reflection.

Tewl: Dang, dese caterpillar brows. Are dey really dat bad?

Yes, Tewl, they are. That’s why I gave them to you.

Tewl: You ain’t give me nothin’, bitch. I was born with dese.

If that’s what you want to think…

Morgana, meanwhile, was having some issues of her own.

Morgana: Feed me paint, please!

And risk screwing up your possible fetus even more? No thanks.

Speaking of screwed-up kids, if the triplets weren’t scarred enough from the door-slicing and trunk incidents, then having to witness this every morning certainly pushed them over the edge.

Rotter: Hey dudes, on the count of three I say we all run for it.

Razor: We don’t get legs until our next birthday, idiot.

Next morning, at 15 Summerhill Court—

GEEZ, WHAT NOW???

MORGANA??!?!?!?!!

Tewl: OH FUCK MORGS, dere’s a big fire in here! It’s makin’ my elbows go all weird an’ crap!

Morgana: La la la la la, spring’s in the air… Mmmmm, waffles.

It took me a while to figure out what had actually happened here. I’m pretty sure Morgana started cooking waffles autonomously while I was focussed on Tewl. Then I sent her off to feed babies, realized her own hunger was in the red, and decided to be nice for once and let her cook waffles instead of grabbing soggy premade cereal from the fridge. And look how she repays me—by neglecting the last batch she put in and setting the house ablaze. THIS IS TOTALLY NOT MY FAULT AT ALL.

(EDIT: My notes tell me that I exited the game after she started cooking the first time. Then, when it reloaded, she decided to have a phone conversation with Pauline Wan instead of tending the waffles I had no idea she was even making. So there we go: it’s Pauline’s fault. :D)

Morgana: Dammit! How am I supposed to cook these waffles if there’s a fire in the way?

Tewl: *Sad memuriez* 😦

Morgana: Seriously! I don’t understand how I can be expected to cook breakfast under these conditions. It’s unacceptable!

Tewl: Yeah…

Are you kidding me?? DO SOMETHING!

Tewl: Oh, right. No prob.

Morgana: Yeah, why didn’t you say something before? We’ve totally got this.

Tewl: TEWLGANA TO THE RESCUE!!

And this is about the first activity they’ve done together since the dawn of their relationship. Awwww, how sweet.

Failfighter: It’s alright, guys, I’m here to extinguish the fire! Everybody is safe now.

Tewl: Who is dis twit?

Morgana: I don’t know, but I’m real tempted to extinguish him right about now.

Don’t be so hard on him, guys. He probably heard there was a party and wanted to join in the fun.

Failfighter: UGH, why is my life so haaaard? I could really use a cup of tea right now. One milk and two sugars… that would hit the spot right there.

Okay, you now have my permission to kick his ass.

Morgana: Maybe if we just stand here he’ll leave.

Tewl: Good idea, bro.

Or give him the silent treatment. Gosh, way to leave me out of things. 😦

Guys, I learned something new today. Apparently this is what happens to a microwave when it gets mangled in a fire: it’s totally invincible but it becomes impregnated with a bunch of tiny microwaves. :O

And this is what happens when you purchase new furniture. Like, whoa. How come we had to saw a couch in half to get it into our basement last year? That just seems unfair.

Morgana: Hum-dee-dum-dee-dum. What seems unfair?

Oh, whatever. Just cook the damn waffles if it’s that important to you.

First thing Tewl did after the fire was dealt with was rush to his sons. It might not have been autonomous but who really cares because awwwwww (kind of).

Tewl: Good thing dis kid didn’t get eaten by da fire, yo. He’s my favourite.

Rotter: Well screw you, daddy.

Ripper: How come I never get any screen time? 😦

Tewl: ‘Cause you ugly, dat’s why.

TEWL! That’s just awful. On second thought, though, I don’t even think Ripper is in his crib…? Guess Tewl wasn’t the only one neglecting him.

Speaking of neglect, which—despite what I’ve added for comedic flair—wasn’t that bad, I swear…

How is that even possible? Unless he’s got a little baby treadmill stashed away in his crib (which is twisted, but admittedly kind of cute) I really don’t know.

Morgana: Well Arabella’s cuter than all of them LOL.

Morgana is just OBSESSED with this little girl. I mean, I do feel bad for her, sitting all alone in her parents’ abandoned bedroom, but with the attention Morgana’s giving her I think she’s better off than the real legacy kids at this point.

Arabella: Let them eat cake!

Speaking of the Steels, Story Progression has been ridiculously good to them considering they were broke and homeless upon moving out. Honestly, I don’t think we need to worry about them at all.

Except that I keep getting pop-ups like this one. How dare you, Story Progression? Fortunately, they’re interspersed with “Tuesday Steel and Christopher Steel are 2getha 4eva zomgggg” (slight paraphrasing there) so I’m putting it down to Tuesday’s inner grump monster for now.

Later that evening, Morgana headed down to the gym to complete the ever persistent “Celebrity Body” opportunity. I don’t give a hoot about celebrity points (in fact, I usually try my hardest not to make Sims famous) but there were purportedly Simoleons involved, so GET ON THE TREADMILL, MORGANA.

Unfortunately, before she could get inside, we ran into the family outing problem again. This time it was the Bunches.

Arlo: Single file, guys, single file. Let’s not get separated now.

Morgana: Please, for the love of all that is holy, MAKE IT STOP.

She did manage to get on a treadmill—but only for about five minutes before her twig legs collapsed and she had to drag herself home. Little wimp didn’t even complete the opportunity.

Gosh, I don’t know where that came from. Let’s move on, shall we?

[CUE PUKING MONTAGE]

And if Lady Puke-a-Lot is back, we all know what that means…

Morgana: Yay, another baby to neglect!

Add an “s” to that or you’re fired. 😀

Tewl: Zzzz… Awww man, MORE kids? Dat’s it, Morgs—I don’t love you anymore… Zzzzzz…

OMG. What’s this? Am I seeing things? Congratulations, Morgana! You realized you have a son!

Rotter: Weeeee, attention from Mommy!

Morgana: Well, something smelled terrible so I figured someone was due for a diaper change.

Errr, yeah, about that…

Um, Tewl? Do you really think it’s such a good idea, after what happened yesterday, to be cooking on zero skill points with your pregnant wife on the other side of that very thin wall?

Tewl: Bitch, you underestimate me. I am da Flame.

That’s kind of what I’m worried about.

Miraculously, though, “Da Flame” whipped up a perfect (well, “nice”) batch of waffles on his first try.

Tewl: See? How dare you doubt me, yo.

Fine, fine, I guess I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. But now that we’ve discovered your hidden talent, I guess I should have you cooking meals for the family full time!

Tewl: Dat’s not what I—

TOO LATE. 😀

Tewl still had some other business to attend to, though. I had planned to get these two back up to friendship status before Chris had to move out, so I was pretty bummed that they were still nemeses when the glitches attacked. Luckily, Tewl happened to find Chris on a park outing with Tuesday (naturally, since apparently families aren’t allowed to go anywhere without each other) and dragged him into a chess match. I still love that Tewl plays as black every single time. 😛

Tewl: So Chris, dis enemy thing is getting a little old. What say, if I win dis thing, we get over it an’ be bros again?

Chris: *Sigh* You realize you’ve never beat me, right? You basically just bet on a lame horse. Or a gutted fish—I don’t know, I can’t think of an appropriate metaphor.

Pauline: Hey guys, can I play? Guys? Guys? Please? Can we be friends? Guys?

NO ONE LIKES YOU!

(I guess Tewl lost because their relationship was still in the red when I sent him home. 😦 )

Meanwhile, Morgana was… well, still having issues. She’s just an issue-y person in general, it seems.

Morgana: ARGH! Where is Tuesday when you need her?

Oops, I guess I forgot to have her upgrade the sink. Wait, can they even upgrade sinks? LOL, I really should not be this much of a n00b after playing this for three years. 😛

She’s also failing in her artistic pursuits. WTF, you’re still painting that thing??

Morgana: Hush, all masterpieces take time.

Yeah, and apparently so do pieces of crap…

Since Tewl didn’t want to be the family’s personal chef, I decided to give him some more manly duties instead.

Tewl: Yo, dere’s nothin’ manly about gettin’ water up your nose an’ down your pants.

Well, somebody has to do it. And Morgana sucks at everything. XD

PARTY TIME AGAIN!!! A little surprisingly, Christopher actually accepted Tewl’s invite, and that made me happy.

Tewl: Hey bro, so glad you could make it.

Chris: Whatever, man. I’m just here to see my daughter that you friggin’ stole, cradle robber.

Erin: Why hello there. I wasn’t invited but I thought I’d put in an appearance anyway because the readers all love me so much.

OMG, GTFO.

Sandi: Geez, my mom is so embarrassing.

Tuesday: WHERE IS MY LITTLE GIRL?? CRIMINALS!!

I don’t know why they’re in such a rage over this baby thing. I mean, technically they’re the ones who walked away (even if I told them to :D).

This here is the last of Tewl’s illegitimate children that you haven’t yet met, and probably my favourite of the four—Zachery Andrews, son of Victoria. He got Tewl’s eye colour and funny-looking nose bridge as well as his mother’s cheekbones, which altogether gives him a pretty interesting look. I feel like he’s going to be a hottie when he’s older—not that I can actually use him for anything. 😛

But anyway, back to the party—or rather, the study group. GEEZ GUYS. What is this, the library?

Sandi: Shhhhhh!

Oh.

Ripper: You’re using cheater photography again, Miss.

OMG, HI RIPPER! I haven’t seen you since you were born!

Ripper had a fairly normal little celebration with his parents, his Auntie Tuesday and Uncle Chris, and his numerous half siblings in attendance. My guess is Erin snuck off to plant bombs in the shower or something.

Tewl: Blow out da flame, little Ripper! OMG, da Flame—dat’s me! Hehehe.

Apparently Chris and Tuesday got over the Arabella thing pretty quickly because they didn’t even try to pick her up or anything.

Tuesday: Who is this Arabella? I am only here for the party.

Chris: OMG, this is the most exciting thing EVER!

And then, with a few sparkles and a spin, he turned into ZOMG THE MOST ADORABLE TODDLER I HAVE EVER SEEN. With horrible hair, but that’s always been a problem in my game so I’ve learned to ignore it.

Poor Rotter didn’t have such luck. For one thing, he was subject to the angry confusion that inevitably comes with multiple successive birthdays. For another, he had a dirty diaper. And worst of all, Erin decided to show her ugly face this time.

Tuesay: Woot-woot! Yay, birthday celebr— Oh goodness, what in the heavens is that next to me?

Hair Monster: Greetings, Mrs. Steel. I am Conroy, an extension of Rotter’s conscience. If you will please hand over that party horn, I would like to eat it.

Rotter: Teeheeheehee.

Demon children, I tell you…

And by the time Razor made it to the candles, nobody was really in the mood for horn-blowing (that or Conroy had eaten them all) so they just waved their glitchy faces in the air like lunatics. I’m talking to you, Christopher.

Razor: As soon as I can walk, I’m getting out of here. I swear it.

LOL, no you’re not. I actually like you. 😀

So Razor had his birthday, but I guess I forgot to take an I-Just-Aged-and-I-Look-Like-a-Trainwreck picture. Oh well, I guess he should count himself lucky.

Anyway, I decided to stretch everyone’s nerves even further by adding a fourth birthday to the list, because for some very odd reason, Tewl rolled the want to throw Sandi a birthday party.

Sandi: Wow, a real birthday party at my real daddy’s house! I feel just like a real girl now!

That’s nice, Pinocchiette.

Tewl: You go, Candi!

Erin: This is… strangely touching. Yet pretentious. Yet touching… Oh, Tewlie, I want you back! *sob* No I don’t, that’s ridiculous.

Marjorie: Oh, yippee! I can’t wait until daddy throws me a birthday party!

(He never did… lol.)

Sandi: Yeah! I’m awesome!

Aaaaaand it’s an Erin clone. Get out of this house now. (Tewl didn’t even get his wish fulfilled. How lame is that?)

And now we stumble in on this splendid little scene in the bedroom. Three little demons, sitting in a row…

Morgana: Oh god, I gave birth to these??

Despite their… eccentricities, shall we say, the Hellchildren turned out pretty cute. I mean, just look at Ripper! Is that not the sweetest face you’ve ever seen?

Ripper: Hiya! I’m gonna charm you into submission and then eat your brains.

See? Adorable!

Rotter’s a little whiner, but I think he’s got a goofy kind of charm to him.

Rotter: Hey, no fair! I’m at least twice as cute as Ripper, yo!

Not if you keep talking like that, kid.

And Razor… well, what can I say? He just exudes evil like a green vapour.

Razor: Yessss. Evil, that’s what it is.

I think he grew into some CC eyebrows that I downloaded by accident, but I don’t like to mess with stuff like that in their looks, sooooo… I guess he’ll just have to keep them. 😀

After the triplets were put down for the night (in the sense that they were put in their cribs, not tranquilized) Tewl attempted to make conversation with his eldest daughter, since, once again, we were having trouble getting the party guests to leave at a decent hour.

Tewl: So, Mandi, what did’ya think of da partay?

Sandi: It was great, Dad! In fact, I’ve been thinking—I’d really like to move in with you and Morgana!

Tewl: Duhhh, well, no. You can’t. But if you ever need to talk about shit, go ‘head an’ gimme a call, okay?

Sandi: Oh… Okay. Will you buy me a cell phone?

Tewl: Dammit kid, you’re pushin’ your luck here.

Erin: And some TNT in the sink… Ah, whoops. Is that a camera behind me?

Having exhausted her efforts with Tewl, Sandi moved on to Christopher in her search for a suitable father figure.

Sandi: So hey, Uncle Chris—I can call you that, right? Cool. You should totally take me fishing sometime! I’m totally into, like… nets and all that stuff.

Chris: Uhhhh…

Erin: Hey Morgana, here’s a plate to the boob.

Morgana: I wish these people would just leave already so I could clean things up and go to bed…

Chris: No offense, Sandi, but nobody fishes with nets anymore. That’s just stupid.

Sandi: Oh…

Erin: What is this, Sandi? Socializing with your father’s people? I don’t like it.

Morgana: Hey everyone, I’m tired and stinky and pregnant and it’s *EXAGGERATED YAWN* four AM, so you know…

At long last, the guests went home and Tewl and Morgana were able to grab some sleep. But only two hours of it, because then this happened.

Morgana: Oh… oh, that kind of hurts.

I wasn’t going to pull this crap again, but this chapter is already longer than I wanted it to be, so you shall have to deal with a cliffhanger (which I know is real difficult since you’re all so invested in these idiots’ lives :P). And Morgana will have to deal with a sixty-hour labour, but probably not that much because I’m not working tomorrow and that means MORE WRITING, YAY. 😀

Morgana: You’d better mean that.

Don’t speak to me that way.
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Happy Simming! 😀