2.1 Rising from the Ashes

Hello, and welcome back! It’s been way too long since the last chapter, but what else is new? I hope everyone is enjoying their summer simming. 😀

When I last showed my face on the interwebs, it was to officially conclude the first generation and elect the newest lord of Langurd. And so here you have them, ladies and gentlemen: your crown prince and his queen-to-be.

Yes, you’ve come to the right blog. And no, Tewlgana haven’t adopted. Baldy and Brunette here are the result of a series of updates, errors, and incompatible downloads, topped off with the complete reinstallation that seems to be customary every time I return from a break. After everything my game went through, it’s a wonder they even have eyes and noses. But the point is, we’re back! With plenty of screenshots to caption and exciting stuff ahead. Yeah… I may or may not have played through all of the next generation in less than a week. Self-discipline, you say? Never heard of it.

Razor: Jesus, Ara. You know there’s this thing called a shower?

Arabella: Actually, I believe what you smell is your sex appeal seeping out by the gallon.

Yeah, Mr. Not-So-Clean. Go find yourself a toupee or something.

I don’t know about you guys, but something about this mailman seems kind of sketchy to me.

Mailman: Got the goods right here, Mr. Langurd. I’ll be back for the payment later.

Ripper: Not now, Alfonso! Can’t you see they’re watching?

Hmm, so maybe that’s where all the green vapour is coming from…

 

Tewl has no need for drugs though. In his old age he is quite content to just bug the heck out of poor Graculus.

Tewl: Yo, birdman! Sing me da alphabet!

Graculus: Z Z Z Z Z Z Z…

Tewl: Dat’s not how it goes, doofus! Ain’t you never learned your ABD’s?

His efforts to win back Morgana remain persistent as well.

Tewl: Babe, I know we gettin’ old an’ all, but you still lookin’ fly as ever.

Morgana: I— wow, Tewl, that was a really nice thing to say.

Tewl: I’mma get’choo first class tickets to cloud nine if you know what I’m sayin’.

Morgana: That’s, uh…

Tewl: We could join da mile high club, baby.

Morgana: Just stop now, please.

Rotter: Hey Rip, you seen a shrew anywhere?

Ripper: Waaugiuehgurrff!

Rotter: No? Well I’ll be goin’ den.

Meanwhile, at Pleasant Rest Graveyard in the dead of the night, a sinister red orb emerged from the mausoleum. Good heavens, what could it be? Alas, I fear it may be a—

A moody Razor! GASP.

Razor: Yeah, lady, you’d better run.

These are the moments when I love him.

Arabella continues her writing endeavours with such tomes as “I Hate Everything” and “A Fork in the Foot.” Unfortunately, none have been quite as successful as “Roadkill Pie,” her bestselling childhood debut. Something about the narrative voice of a disturbed twelve-year-old? I dunno, but she’s one of our only sources of income so I won’t let her quit.

Oh, and Tewl adopted a puppy on a whim.

Arabella: Just as well — a princess requires a fearsome guardian and faithful companion. This shall be my direwolf.

With that in mind, we named him Grey Wind. Can you guess my reading project this summer? 😉

He’s doing a pretty good job already. Don’t worry, Paparazzi Doofus. I also would go running at the sight of a baby sheepdog.

 

But a pet direwolf just wasn’t enough for Arabella’s royalty complex, and so she called her advisors to table to discuss her latest complaints.

Arabella: It seems to me this family is not notorious enough. We must take measures to make a name for our house.

Keg: Um, I’m confused. Aren’t we all like three-star celebrities?

Star: And constant magnets for public shame? Yes, yes, we are.

Arabella: I’ve got it. Keg, we should marry. Stir up a little scandal in the realm.

Keg: I don’t care what anyone else thinks, I think you’re hot.

Star: Smooth, bro.

Yeah, I’m loving this new attraction system (new for me because I just piled on like seven game updates) but it caught me by surprise at first. Apparently all the Langurd boys are hopelessly in love with Arabella… Who knew?

I guess Keg really took her proposal to heart because he immediately started working out, trying to buff up those painter’s arms.

Keg: Guys, am I ripped yet? Am I? Do you think Ara will notice? Guys?

Ripper: Think we could trade him in for a car?

Razor: It’s worth a shot.

 

Better yet, we traded him for a bigger house! Actually, we sold some cut gems, which — as it turns out — were the “goods” in the mailbox. That gave us enough for a much-needed extension, complete with some experimental architecture. What can I say? I was feeling spontaneous.

As you can see, we ran out of money much sooner than expected. On the bright side, everybody gets to sleep indoors now!

But indoors is for n00bs if you ask Tewl. Later that night, he decided it was time to pull his signature move on Morgana.

Tewl: See up dere, babe? Dat one’s our star. Yours an’ mine.

Morgana: No, Tewl. That’s our Star over there.

Tewl: Wha— holy shit, would’ya look at dat!

Dorothy: As a veteran Langurd stalker, I’m glad I could be here to ruin this incredibly contrived screenshot.

And while we were still in sappy lighting mode, Tewl decided to power through with my his plan.

Tewl: I’d like ta take dis opportunity to give ya a little somethin’, Morgs…

Morgana: What is it? Did you find a bug?

Tewl: Nah, bro. I want ya t’marry me.

Morgana: Oh, Tewl, you bag of scum! Thanks for waiting until we’re practically on our deathbeds!

Tewl: Yer damn welcome.

And so the big day finally arrived when the douchiest of douchebags would wed his true lady-bro once and for all.

Light #1: Fifty bucks says he bails.

Light #2: Sixty he bags a bridesmaid!

Light #1: You’re on!

I apologize, because this chapter gets even sappier. Shortly after Tewlgana’s reconciliation, I found two of the family’s oldest stalkers getting all cosy behind the terrariums.

Ian: Oh, Dorothy, you make me feel like a giddy little girl!

Dorothy: That’s… wonderful?

Luckily, Grey Wind knows how to bring the mood down. Why would you wreck the one thing in the house that belongs to you?? Little masochist.

Grey Wind: You’re next, carpet.

 

It wasn’t like these lazy louts were going to train him out of it, so I took the initiative bought him something a little more appropriate to chew on: a rubber tofu dog! Because in Tewl’s house, it has to be tofu.

 

Despite his blatant commitment issues, Tewl didn’t kick up too much of a fuss on the morning of the wedding. In fact, he was more like his old self than ever.

Tewl: Yep, yer ol’ man’s still got it on his weddin’ day. Hear dat sizzle? You mark my words, sonny, dat’s da flame burnin’ strong.

Razor, on the other hand, had an uncharacteristic freak-out.

Razor: YOU IDIOT WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU’RE GOING TO GET THE CAKE ALL WET OMG.

Rotter: Don’ care man, gotta show dis damn sink who’s boss.

He’s finally gotten the hang of repairing that thing, but without fail he is always the one to break it.

 

Soon enough, the guests started arriving. A bizarre conglomeration as per usual, starting with Zachery Gewf, boyfriend of Arabella, son of Tewl and Victoria Andrews.

 

Next was Cleo Steel, the Girl Who Technically Never Existed (let’s start a revolution with that tagline, right?). She’s looking more puffy-faced every day, which makes me feel much better that we got Arabella instead.

Then came the Steels themselves. Christopher was stuck as an adult for a while, but Overwatch got him shortly after this. (Sorry, buddy.)

They were followed by Sam Sekemoto.

Ripper: Do we know him?

Not really, but his genes are cool and I’m setting him up to breed with a pretty townie and create a future spouse for Razor’s heir. XD

Ripper: That’s disgustingly intrusive.

 

Be that as it may, when I saw a Story Progression pop-up saying Sam had been flirting with Jamie Jolina, I knew I had to give them a little push (lest we be forced to marry in Alvi blood or a puddingface). So I invited the pair of them to the wedding, where Jamie lasted all of five seconds before biting the dust.

Other guests included Cesar Donner (certified Chris clone), Harri Toth (Star’s boyfriend?), and Madison VanWatson (token crasher).

Madison: Alright, let’s get this sentimental garbage over with.

Harri: Ma’am, don’t you see? This is the wedding of Tewl Langurd; the comet is gonna hit any time now.

The next big apocalypse movie, coming to you from the guy who actually uses semicolons in speech.

Cesar: I elect myself for the poster. Magnum.

With those Ian Somerhalder eyebrows, I’d be okay with that.

My matchmaker plan worked splendidly in the end, as you can see. They didn’t even socialize with anyone else at the party.

Star: Don’t get any ideas from them, Harri. We may be “dating,” but only in public.

Harri: Whatever you say, babe.

 

It wouldn’t be a party without at least one inappropriately awe-struck fan, but at least it wasn’t his nemesis this time.

Zachery: Oh boy, it’s really you! I’ve just been dying for an autograph!

Tewl: Just as long as i’ss not a child support cheque, ya hear?

Talk about daddy issues.

Meanwhile, Ripper walked in on a scene from a teenage boy’s fantasy.

Ripper: I’d tap that. Or that. Or both…

You creep me out, kid.

Finally, under the setting sun, Tewl Langurd stood unflinching beneath a wedding arch.

Horse in rear: The ark, Barnabas! Find the ark!

You can’t see it here because my photography sucks, but I put sunglasses on Morgana for the occasion. It was begging to be done.

 

The crowd was a little slow on the uptake (guess I dragged those fourteen chairs out of the inventory for nothing… FOOLS) but they caught on eventually.

Jamie: Wooooo, yeah! I am getting laid tonight!

Holly: Think again, Jolina. Your man is mine.

Oh right, I forgot she was there.

The only thing to put a damper on the ceremony was Tewl’s lousy attention span.

Morgana: Want to help cut the cake, sweetie?

Tewl: Yea— Oh hey, it’s Sexemoto! Brb hon, gonna get me some sweet tips on wooin’ da ladies.

Morgana: No you aren’t, honey.

Tewl: I mean no I’m not.

Seventeen people and a cake. Whose idea was that?

After enough people left out of frustration, we opted for some basic socialization instead. During prom, Cleo became a “romantic interest” for Keg, which is hard to imagine but hey, I thought I’d just go with it. Now witness Tewl’s most gameless offspring attempt to flirt with a woman.

Keg: Hey Cleo, you should, um, get a facial.

Cleo: And why is that?

Keg: Um, because — because, uh, if you don’t put some cucumbers on your eyes, I’m going to keep gazing into them like the creeper I am?

Cleo: Right…

Keg: And — and — so you can eat them afterwards. Yum, cucumbers!

I don’t know how he turned that one around, but there you go.

Keg: Hey, Mom! What do you think of my new girlfriend?

Morgana: …This girl is dating you? Are you sure?

Star: Ha, pwned.

 

It must have been a very lucky night for the Langurds because Razor made some progress on the other hot blonde.

Razor: Hey, Ara. I just wanted to say that I read “Who Stole Johnny’s Earlobe” and it was pretty fantastically disturbing.

Arabella: You know what, Razor? I daresay you are not half bad.

Star: Out of your league, brother.

 

Keg: I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is…

Cleo: I wonder if he knows I’m about to hook up with some other dude LOL

True story. Cleopatra Steel is officially a dirty cheating hoebag, but more on that later.

Razor: So id you hear about the time Keg fell in the dishwasher?

Arabella: I do not wish to hear your petty gossip, fool!

Star: Better drop the bat and get off the plate, huh Razor?

Thank you, peanut gallery. How are you lurking in the shadows of so many of these pictures??

After the party, everyone was pretty pooped. Especially those who didn’t attend.

George: Dude, I just puked like eight times.

Grey Wind: I feel you, bro.

Because it looks like Grey Wind spent the night savaging the rug as promised. For a puppy his size, I’m sure that was hard work.

Tewl: I am vurry disappointed in you, Mister Direwolf. If i’ss not Erin Kennedy’s face next time, you goin’ to bed wifout yer dinner.

In spite of it all, Tewl is quite fond of his little G-Dubs. Funny, it’s almost like he found a heart somewhere.

Tewl: Yeppers, jus’ got back from Oz last night.

After the wedding, Morgana was still trying for level 8 in the Medical Career, if not for a higher pension then because she’d had the wish locked in FOREVER. Eventually we were so desperate that I reduced myself to accepting opportunities, whereas normally the jingle makes me want to stab myself. One of them involved talking to Malcolm Landgraab for some reason or another. I forget. This was like a week ago.

Malcolm: I find you very attractive.

Morgana: Yeah, um, I’m married.

Malcolm: Meh. I need you to invite me to a party because I’m socially inept and can’t make friends on my own.

And so she did, if you can call it a party when an old guy comes over to chat.

Chris: Remember when I stole your football?

Tewl: Ya man, goodtimez.

Malcolm: This place is rockin’! Thanks for having me over, Morgana!

Morgana: You know, I had something to say but then I realized I’m pretty tired of talking to you.

And I’m tired of having to write captions for the “tired” moodlet. Suck it up and keep your needs out of the screenshots, people!

 

Morgana: That’s it, who pranked the couch again?

Razor: Heads down, boys. Keep your cool.

Rotter: Keg did it.

Morgana: Like I’m going to believe that. Ara, sweetheart, you’ll tell me the truth?

Arabella: Indeed, it was the flamboyant one. You may bring me his head.

Tuesday: You again?

Morgana: Yep, I still live here. Go home — the party was over like three hours ago.

Indeed it was, but we threw another one because pineapples.

Star: So awesome you could come to my slumber party, Cesar. There’s gonna be dancing and truth or dare and beer pong by moonlight—

Cesar: Yeah, I gotta go to work now. Bye.

What an idiot. But we weren’t really fussed because everyone important stuck around.

 

Cleo: There seems to be an invisible magnet that draws us together.

It was inevitable, really. He’s an heir and she’s a legacy wrecker, and my game hates me.

 

No matter — Razor knows how I want shit to go down what’s really good for him, so he went and ran interference in Zarabella’s private corner.

Razor: You know, Ara, it’s really I who have everything you’re looking for. Not only am I of sound breeding, but we have so many common interests. You write grotesque books for children and I work at a mausoleum! If you think about it, we’re really meant to be.

Zach: Yeah, buddy, nice try.

Zachery: Listen, babe, you and I got a real deep connection — we both so hot, somebody should paint a goddamn picture of us.

Ara: Oh, Zachery, you are just as sweet as can be!

Razor: Yeah, Zachery… We all love Zachery.

Razor: I wanna be you…

My sims have such depth of emotion that it just took me ten minutes to find an adjective for that face. Wistful is what I settled on. Can’t say I blame him.

However, he did grow a backbone and confront Zachery man to man.

Razor: Of all the girls in the world, did you HAVE to pick my betrothed?

Zachery: Whoa, your what?

Razor: Arabella has been promised to a Langurd son since she was born!

Zachery: The fuck even is this family?

And with Zach sufficiently creeped out, he managed to snag a dance with his “betrothed.”

Razor: Break it down like a badass motherfucking tree.

Arabella: Break it— wait, I am lost.

Meanwhile, Keg was hanging out with his soon-to-be cheater girlfriend, failing to notice the obvious signs.

Cleopatra: Listen, Keg. You’re neat and all, but I was sorta hoping you could hook me up with your brother.

Star: Give it up Keg, you’re toast!

Keg: Oh, come on! It’s always Ripper this and Ripper that—the guy doesn’t even lift!

Star: What, and you do? Hey Cleo, did I tell you about the time Keg stepped on a—

Keg: ENOUGH, SISTER.

Good thing we had Rotter around to run interference on other stuff, like this punk-ass buzzkill.

Rotter: Hey man. You don’ do homework at parties.

Zach: This ain’t no homework, fool. It’s an expose on this creepy-as-shit breeding experiment you got goin’ on.

Rotter: Yeah, I’mma need you to tear up dose papers an’ come wif me to have yer memory erased.

 

Rotter: But you can write an es’pose on Keg’s My Little Pony collection if ya want.

Keg: Ha ha… Uh, you didn’t hear that, did you babe?

Cheers to some majorly awkward dancing in the background.

Zachery: And then the video card glitched and everybody turned grey for a couple of hours…

Rotter: Holy shit, man, dat’s terrifyin’!

Razor: What do you say, Ara? Did the tree move do it for you?

Arabella: Not in the slightest.

And so the chase continues.

Harri: ‘Kay guys, bedtime now! It’s waaaaaay past eight-thirty!

And they proceeded to form clusters of blue cocoons at random throughout the house. I like to think we had a bit more law and order to our sleepovers back in my day (like yesterday, that is).

That being said, everyone woke quite well-rested and we even made pancakes for breakfast! (Well, Tewl did. That’s about all he’s good for these days.) With starlight still streaming through the nonexistent ceiling, Rotter and Razor discussed the night’s events over Tewl’s Renoit Grapes-infused creations.

Rotter: Know what man? You a Langurd. You can’t let dat broke-ass basturd boy get da better of you. You gotta one-up ‘im! Take ‘er on some fancy vakashun or somethin’.

Razor: Don’t be an idiot, brother. That would never—

Razor: Holy stinking tofu dog. Rotter, you are a genius.

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Whew, long chapter! Sorry it was a lot of the same old stuff — I promise it’ll get exciting soon. Next time: Will Tewlgana’s marriage last? Will Razor literally drag Arabella off to China to get her away from Zachery? Will we have to rebuild the entire house on account of Grey Wind the savage little turd? Tune in next time for all that and more. Happy Simming! 🙂

-Sam