2.7 The Darkling’s Crusade

Is anybody else slightly terrified by this?

‘Cause I know I am. If you’ve read my foreword, you’ll know that I don’t cope too well with these kinds of changes, and neither do my legacies. I tend to get caught between excitement and nostalgia, and then I curl up in a ball of jittery indecision which soon becomes a mushroom cloud of “SCREW IT JUST TAKE MY MONEY.” And let’s be honest here, it’s not like I’m going to finish this thing anytime in the next year. Thus the terrification; I want so badly to finish this legacy but I also know these games will probably be obsolete before I can manage that. So what do?

I guess I should be glad this is the biggest stresser in my life right now. 😛

Razor: NOBODY is leaving my Lance to rot in a gaming platform of the past.

Oh Razor, you know I could never do that to you and your spawn. I’m pretty sure you would rise from the hard drive and eat me.

Lance: Flessssssh.

Back to our usual programming now, where Katana has taken it upon herself to perform open heart surgery on the family direwolf.

Katana: Oh, I’m not opening his heart. This is an extraction procedure. A step in my grand crusade against the menace of emotion.

Grey Wind: Kisses?

Katana: Eugh, no. You see why this is necessary?

You see, these things we call “feelings” are a mere weakness, a flaw in our race that leaves us naked and vulnerable to whims, temptations, and tomfoolery.

Ara: I’m sure Katana won’t mind if we have a couple more of her delicious muffins.

Razor: Nah. Besides, we raised the kid. She could stand to give a little back.

That is why this “emotion” garbage must be abolished. I can’t stand the smiles, the sappiness, the blatant thievery in the name of jest… *grumble*

Ara: Goodness, what is in these things? I feel as though I just choked on a power tool.

Razor: I’m… sleepy.

Sadly, I may not have perfected the formula just yet.

But I will carry on with my crusade. Catering to the public’s deep-seated love of baked goods, I will wipe the smile off of every face in Sunset Valley, one by one.

Katana: A heightened demand for vanilla goods… splendid.

And then I can finally live in peace.

Hooookay. While we’re out and about, we might as well catch up on some townie activity.

Let’s start with Jamie Jolina and Old Man Sam. You may remember how I gently coaxed (read: rugby-tackled) them into each other’s arms in an attempt to breed spouse material. Um, no, I don’t have a god complex, thank you very much.

Well, they’ve had two kids so far and it looks like another might be on the way. Unfortunately, their first daughter Erica does not quite meet my standards. It could just be the haircut, but I’m too lazy to CAS her.

So I’m banking all my hopes on their son Weston, who is still a toddler.

Also a sneak appearance here by Randy Gewf-Nance, son of Tewl’s ex-girlfriend and husband of his illegitimate daughter. I’m confused, too, but the important thing is it’s not incest… yet. Anyway, the little girl is Susie. She was born around the same time as Lance and she definitely has the Langurd look.

Randy: Haha, my kid’s cuter than your kid.

I sure hope not. I want Weston, remember?

(Am I the only legacy writer who grooms spouses from the egg-and-sperm stage? Don’t answer that.)

Of course, it worked out so well with this one.

Ara: Look, honey, this is the book I wrote while I was pregnant with you!

Katana: I really don’t care. Can you get off my bed now?

Ara: But look, there are monsters and dungeons and a beheading, and this man is even forced to eat his own teeth!

Katana: Hmm. Tell me more.

I can only imagine that’s how a bedtime story would go down between these two. In any case, it did the trick and Katana drifted off into dreams about sugar plums torture techniques.

Until she was rudely woken by her little sister.

Katana: Shut up, Lance.

Lance: Teehee, I’m cute!

Katana: No, you’re not. Cut that shit out or I will actually eat you.

Lance: BITE ME.

Sisterly affection. I love it.

Oh lordy. If this site ever gets a banner, I know what’s going front and centre.

On a completely unrelated note, Ara may be the most gracefully aging Sim I’ve ever seen. Ironically, she spends an assload of time worrying about her appearance.

Ara: What is this line? I swear it wasn’t there yesterday!

That would be your philtrum, dummy. And since it’s kind of like a belly button, I’d be seriously concerned if it had only just appeared.

(Oh, the things you can learn from Google.)

But that did nothing to assuage her worries.

Ara: Katana, your muffins are making me tubby.

Katana: Oh, really? How about you stop eating them then?

Ara: But I— now what is that? That looks delicious.

Katana: Restrain yourself. It’s not for you.

Ara: WHY MUST YOU TEMPT ME SO??

Katana: You are so whacked, Mom. I’m gonna go put thumb tacks on public benches — see you later.

So much for that plan. It turns out this girl is the ultimate dream wife; when you piss her off, she bakes treats AND cleans the house. Grandma Tuesday would be ashamed.

There is something about a tiny kitten shredding a large piece of furniture that just makes my heart squeal.

I don’t even have the strength to stop him. I just sit here and coo over him while he costs us hundreds of dollars in replacements.

But we can always trust heartless Katana to get the job done.

Katana: YOU. Keep your damn claws out of the furniture or I’ll stick ‘em where the sun don’t shine, you hear?

Lionheart: Mew?

Meanwhile, the gnomes were putting on a wonderful re-enactment in the background.

Penelop: Thou wretched savage, hold off thy weapons of laceration or stand you so assured, thou shalt know a most wondrous torment!

Torik: O fie!

Shakespeare in the… Kitchen?

Whatever else she may be, Katana is definitely her father’s daughter.

Tommy, on the other hand, is a total Momma’s boy.

Ara: My, child, you are certainly fit to be king! If you grow up in my perfect likeness, I shall reward you with cake.

Tommy: You hear that? I get to have cake AND be a king.

Birthday derps & toddler spam.

Tommy: Mmm-mmm. I can taste the cake already.

Oh yeah, he’s a spitting image alright.

But wait! He can be a mini-Razor too if they’re in their matching tuxedos. 😀

Tommy: Yeah, but all I gotta do is pick up one weight and I’ll be more buff than this guy.

Razor: This is severely degrading. May I leave?

And here’s a close-up (ish) so you don’t feel cheated. Tomahawk rolled Virtuoso as his child trait. That’s combined with Athletic and Easily Impressed; I don’t really know what to make of him just yet, so you can expect his dialogue to be about as hodgepodge as his shirt for the first little while.

The next morning, Arabella donned her mother’s old uniform and joined the Hot Repairladies’ Club.

Penelop: Wait a minute. Stop right there, imposter!

Oh. Well, at least somebody knows where it’s at. This is, in fact, a new repairlady named Starr Schuler. (Bitch stole a hairstyle AND a name from us. Hmph.) I’d be too paranoid to let Ara repair something even if I could stand to see her in that outfit, but that didn’t stop me from doing a double take when I saw this.

But no, Arabella was safely in her tower (and her pyjamas) penning a biography of Star for an opportunity she had received. We entitled the piece “That’s Our Star, Yo” in honour of Tewl and Morgana, but my keyboard was malfunctioning at the time so it came out something like “Thatès our Star, Yo.” Eloquence abounds.

Speaking of our dear old friend, I let Katana skip another day of school to visit her. (I swear she attended at least one day of elementary school, but obviously it wasn’t important enough to get a picture.) Star and Harri are still living in this architectural masterpiece and have acquired a roof since the last time we saw them. Congratulations, guys.

Star was the only one home when Katana waltzed in. She’s been working at Landgraab Industries and getting promotions right, left and centre. It’s like Story Progression is taking my carefully constructed personas from Gen. Two and rolling them around in the mud.

Star: Can I help you, kid?

Katana: Apparently you’re my aunt or something.

Star: I’m an aunt to half the town. You got anything else?

Katana: Yeah. Why are you making my mom write a book about you, you conceited bitch?

Star: Ugh, you little snot!

Remind you of anybody in their younger days…?

After sufficiently insulting her hostess, Katana spent the rest of her visit doing creepy shit like this.

Star: Lolwut?

And this.

But hey, it’s not like this family isn’t a little messed up in the first place.

*door flies open*

Harri: ♫ Da-na-na-na-na, Inspector Harri! ♪

Star: Oh look, Rafael, your father’s home!

Rafael: I am embarrassed to be a part of this family.

Poor kid. It probably doesn’t help matters that he looks a LOT like his Grandpa Tewl.

Then again, so does little Jackson here. Damn, that guy had some hardy genes on him.

Next stop was the Steel residence, which Cleo inherited from her parents. This is a family that really came up from nothing when I kicked them out on the streets.

Cleo and Ripper have two kids now, but Daddy doesn’t live with them. He’s still crashing on Sandi and Cesar’s couch with his deadbeat brother.

Cleo: Oh, I thought you were the exorcist. Now is, er, not really a good time for a visit.

Demonchild: Will you be my friiiiiieeeeeeend?

That would be their second kid, Sylvester Steel (isn’t that a kickass name?). Their firstborn, Julie, was at school like a goody-two-shoes.

\

Despite Cleo’s warnings, Katana barged into the house and declared it a sap-free zone. Like they needed that with a demonic possession on their hands.

Katana: Henceforth, there shall be no smiling, there shall be no laughter, and ye all shall live in perfect sobriety.

I’m taking advantage of this rather useless screenshot to fill you in on the rest of the spares/bastards. I wanted Katana to visit them all, but apparently people are busy on weekdays. Don’t know why — they should all be self-employed shirkers like the Langurds.

Here’s a summary:

Sandi & Cesar Gewf-Donner, bastards of Tewl and Chris respectively, are living with their son Anwar and fostering two of Sandi’s half-brothers (a.k.a. our spares).

Zachery Gewf, bastard of Tewl, was briefly engaged to his father’s ex-girlfriend, Sandi French, but they ended it. I’m not terribly upset about that.

Marjorie Gewf, bastard of Tewl, is engaged to Mortimer Goth (it will be his second marriage) and their daughter, Kacey, is a toddler.

Sharonda Gewf-Nance, bastard of Tewl, is married to Randy Gewf-Nance and they have a daughter named Susie, pictured earlier.

Ripper Langurd & Cleopatra Steel — well, we’ve just been through that. For the record, I still don’t like them. 😛

Rotter Langerak-Langurd & old lady Kaylynn Langerak-Langurd are newlyweds and have created a hyphenated surname that was never meant to be. Still no idea what happened to Sun, the wife I worked so hard to arrange him with. 😡

Keg Langurd has done nothing with his life since we last saw him.

Star Toth & Harri Toth have two kids, whom you saw, and two cats as well.

Quintin VanWatson-Gewf, youngest bastard of Tewl, lives with his lovely wife Audrey and their children, Shravan (boy) and January (girl). They are probably still popping out kids as we speak.

Shon Hart-Steel, bastard of Chris, is a teenager I think. I sort of forgot about him when I was gathering info.

And there you have it (a friggin’ novel). Fun fact: Katana and her siblings have no less than seventeen aunts and uncles. Spoiler: that’s soon to be twenty.

Razor was none too pleased when Katana finally arrived home.

Razor: I am disgusted with you, young lady. Of all the things you could blow off school for, you chose this?

Katana: Whoa, I’m sorry for visiting your family.

Razor: You should be! They are all nincompoops.

Grey Wind: Excuse me *hack* masters, but I think I *hack* swallowed Lionheart.

Razor obviously needs to spend more time in his Zen garden. It’s coming along quite nicely, but it’s not making us millionaires yet. 😡 In my desperation, I hired Penelop to do a spiritual dance at the bottom of the money tree.

Penelop: Hup, two, three, four, rain down on the garden floor, five, six, seven, eight, or we’ll cut you down, you fugly twig.

Yeah. He’s quite the poetic little guy.

Grey Wind: I’m lonely.

Tommy: Oreally? You want me to play you a sad song or something?

I feel like this happens a LOT. I’m sure we give him all kinds of attention but every time I turn around, he’s making sad puppy faces and I’m getting a pop-up about neglect. Well jeez, it’s his own damn fault for eating his only companion.

So… these two may have rolled the wish for another child. I thought I’d humour them with a “Risky Woohoo” and see what happened.

…

Don’t worry, I won’t leave you hanging this time. There aren’t any new Langurds on the horizon, and for that I am glad.

Chris: So you think you’re athletic, eh boy? You could learn a few things from your Grandpa Chris, I’ll bet.

Tommy: You’re not even doing what the guy on TV is doing.

Chris: Now listen here, you’d best show some respect for your elders and blah blah blah

Tomahawk needn’t listen to the likes of Ghost-Chris, and for the most part, he doesn’t. This kid has taught me more about the Generations expansion than any tutorial could, what with all the make-believe wishes he’s been rolling.

Tommy: Jiggery pokery! Hocus-pocus, squiggly wiggly!

Dude. When I get Supernatural, I’m totally making you a wizard. (Oh, snap. I just bought it this evening. XD)

He is a man of many faces, this one.

Tommy: Your refreshments, my Lord Lamington.

Lamington: Fool, I ordered bourbon. Don’choo bring me no juice box shit.

And because this chapter needs more Lance, here she is on the receiving end of one of Ara’s middle-age venting sessions.

Ara: I used to say “let them eat cake!”… Well, now I can’t eat a slice without it going straight to my thighs. I am simply deplorable.

Ara: And my marriage, it simply isn’t what it used to be.

Lance: Divowce?

Hahahaha oh please, this whole conversation is the biggest lie. RAZABELLA 4EVAR.

So I found this wandering down the halls one morning. It appears to be Jergens, Tomahawk’s imaginary friend. No potion or anything — just puerile, unadulterated glitch.

Jergens: I’m a REAL boy!

Jergens: HEHEUHUAHEHUEHEHAHEUHEUHEHUA

God, she really is Razor’s kid through and through. You know you’re ruining your image, right?

Katana: Hehe… Small sacrifices.

Which I suppose would mean…

Lance: Heehee! Katty put gwue on da bwocks!

And you’re, um, happy about that?

Lance: Better for bashing xywophone!

Ah.

Grey Wind: Lionheart, is that you? I don’t have my glasses on…

Scrappy Dog: Howdy, partner! The name’s Larka, and I’m the new mutt round these parts. I’m ugly as fuck but I was the only adult lady dog in the paper for a whole week, so here I am!

You guessed it — Ara’s LTW is still not happening. I mean, the stupid unicorn that revealed itself to Tewl practically EVERY NIGHT is a total no-show these days. Time’s sneaking up on us lately, and I’m running out of options. So I thought I’d load up on household pets for her to be friends with.

Larka is named after a white wolf in a book called “The Sight.” Lo and behold, I’ve actually read this one! In fact, it was one of my favourite books around the time I was introduced to The Sims.

This picture exists to show that a) Ara is spoiled rotten to the point where I almost hate her and b) Razor may be the greatest husband ever. And also because ooooh, shiny!

Birthday time again! Time to see if that sadistic glare turns into devilish good looks or a witchy sneer.

Katana: Bring it on.

Lance: Heehee, photobomb! Witewally!

Katana: Oh god, it reeks.

Wowee. I freaking love sim genetics. I can’t tell which parent she looks more like, but I know she has Razor’s nose. Maybe Ara’s jaw? It’s hard to say.

And her new trait — are you ready? Katana is now a perfectionist. Big grumpface, can’t stand the outdoors, can’t stand art, and now can’t stand imperfection. I don’t know as I’ve ever had a sim with such a cohesive personality, but I like it. 😀

OMG GUYS, this feels like progress! I can’t believe we actually raised Gen. 3 to teenagerhood! *touches every single piece of wood in sight*

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As always, thanks for reading! I’m heading back to school soon, so updates may not be as regular from here on out. But seeing as I only have three more chapters to caption before the heir poll, maybe I’ll get them done before semester starts. We’ll see. 😉

Happy Simming!

-Sam

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