3.1 Terra Incognita
Holy moly, generation three! I’ve been procrastinating writing this because it actually feels like progress. Until I remember that I started this legacy 18 months ago, not to mention I started attempting legacies when I was a preteen. Then it just feels pathetic.
A quick note: Thank you all for voting in the heir poll! In case you missed the mini-post, Katana won. By a landslide. Lance did so poorly I’m tempted to rookie haze her.
Another note: School has returned with a vengeance, but this time my courses are all—would you believe it?—really enjoyable, so it’s gonna be a challenge on more than one level to tear myself away and procrastiblog. Yes, I am kidding myself. I will, of course, be shirking my studies wherever possible. Still, when your prof integrates this video into a lecture in a meaningful way, you can’t not do the readings.
I DIGRESS (as per usual). Time to kick this generation’s ass. But first, a word from our retiring torchbearers…
Arabella: Peace at last! I am so relieved I could just fart sparkles!
Razor: I am honoured to be a part of this manly, manly picture.
Fun fact—I call them “retiring torchbearers” but neither has fulfilled a LTW as of yet,
because they are useless because their LTW’s are a bitch and a half. Thus, as sick of them as we may be, they still have some screen time to look forward to.
Much of the screen time this chapter will be devoted to my prancing around like a kid on crack through three new expansion packs. Prepare yourselves.
University Life was the first to accost us, in the form of an ugly llama.
Llama: Hey gurl, you like the Beatles? ‘Cause I wanna hold your hand if you know what I mean.
Lance: I could totally go to university! Don’t I look cute holding this scroll?
Katana: Put that down, Lance. You’re not going to university.
Lance: Oh yeah? Watch me! *scores a 683 SAT*
Einstein in the making for sure.
Next up — Seasons! Turns out Razor has a wicked throwing arm.
Arabella: Euuughh! Well, that’s it. We won’t be having any more children.
Razor: That’s the idea. I mean, uh, sorry honey.
Razor: Hey, look, I’m your father! Get it?
Needless to say, Ara was not amused. She retired to a picnic table, where she encountered a familiar face.
Keg: Bet’cha regret your choice of Langurd now, eh?
Ara: I am sorry, I do not associate with homeless repairmen.
Speaking of “familiar faces,” the pandemic continues.
Floating monstrosity: kill me nooowwwww
I really must find a way to fix this.
And now for this chapter’s instalment of “Langurds Pursue Random Activities Because Their Creator is Insufferably ADD and what are those pointy things sticking out of the piano oh look a turtle”
Lance: I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to—
Tommy: Sing, hopefully. You sound like a broken dishwasher.
It’s not like this one can talk, with his foolish wand-waving and silly incantations.
Tommy: Abracadabra, Abrakazoo, let’s turn Larka into glue!
I second that notion.
Larka: Hey man, what’s with all the hate?
Behold, Tommy can actually do a chin-up now! Must be that picture of him and Sourpuss Starr is quite motivational.
Tommy: I’m still having nightmares about that face; best to be prepared.
Now, on to the kid you really want to hear about (according to statistics). Since she has zero friends and can’t exactly marry Grey Wind, I sent her on an outing with Floating Face/Botox Addict to, let’s just say, explore her options. It took some coaxing before he would willingly hang out with Lady Lucifer, and for good reason.
Katana: Burning torpedo attack!
Weston: *screams like a girl*
Katana: It’s fucking water, dope.
Girl in Foreground: What is life. Why are we here. Why can’t you eat pancakes for dinner.
She spent the rest of the afternoon trying to scare the shit out of him.
Katana: Come with me to my evil lair!
Weston: This girl is death.
Have fun potentially marrying her!
Lately, she’s been doing the T-Rex Crawl all over the place on account of being perpetually grounded. However, I realized something was wrong when the moodlet went away and the T-Rexing continued.
Katana: Look out, waffles, here I come!
But hey, I kinda like it. Even if it takes her five hours to get anywhere.
Katana: That chair won’t suspect a thing!
She’s also been engaging in other “don’t give a fuck” activities, like repairing electrical appliances in pools of water while wearing a wet bathing suit.
And humouring Lance’s pathetic attempts at conversation, if only briefly.
Lance: You know what grinds my gears?
Katana: Your face.
Lance: I— what?
Despite having no friends, the kids consistently manage to bring home an afterschool brigade.
Rafael: LOL my cousins are so fun and kooky.
How precious, he thinks she’s joking.
On this particular evening, Weston stuck around long after Katana had gone to bed. As a result, he passed the night in the hallway, being badgered by Lance with cat videos.
Lance: This one’s called Sergeant Fuzzykins! Don’t you love him?
Weston: Yeah, he’s uh… pretty cool. Listen, I gotta go do things—
Weston: Goddamn, this family has issues.
Lance: But… Sergeant Fuzzykins… Did I misread the signs?
Razor’s night was similarly full of bad decisions. First, he chose the worst possible place to have his birthday.
Razor: Here’s an irrelevant thought bubble too, just to make your captioning extra hard.
Then he chose this disastrous get-up.
Razor: So many regrets.
But he made up for it post-makeover by becoming the most epic old man of all time.
Razor: Sure. Now about that unfulfilled destiny…
Razor: And if I die first?
WE SHALL NOT SPEAK OF SUCH THINGS.
And then, ummmmm, this happened?
Lance: Uh, Mom? Why do the chocolate chips in these pancakes spell “In your face, schmuck”?
Ara: Your father thinks he can efface my childbearing faculties. I have decided to prove him wrong.
Lance: …WAIT WHAT.
This poor, unsuspecting, fourth-time father-to-be was already settling into retirement life… which isn’t that different from his regular life. I guess Razor’s always had an old fart’s heart.
Razor: It’s called the “soul of a sage.”
The Summer Festival came to town and we pounced on that shit like a tiny, overexcited kitten.
Tommy: I pressed “lightly bronzed.” Did it work?
Cue summer romance because Razabella have still got it and I heart them forever.
And then there’s the peanut gallery over here…
Lance: Gross, is that Mom and Dad?
Tomahawk: I think it’s cute.
Katana: Shut up, you’re adopted.
Soon began the inaugural eating contest, and come on—Langurds and hotdogs? It’s like this EP was made for them.
The trio was joined by their obnoxious Aunt Sandi. She just gagged a lot at the highly practiced and graceful efficiency with which the three teens stuffed the goods in their faces.
Tommy: Oh glorious tubular meat, I will never tire of eating you.
I’m getting a little sick just writing this.
And yet somehow, this happened.
Sandi: Oh mah gawd, did I win?
I think the kids forgot the contest and started refilling their plates from under the table.
Maybe not Lance, though.
Lance: How could I lose to my stupid aunt? I AM THE WIENER MASTER!
Not a title you’d want to go touting around town.
Poor Grey Wind came to join in the fun, but I forgot about him and he sat here all day waiting for his masters like the
senile loyal guy he is.
Grey Wind: Yes, yes… Who are my masters again?
He even missed out on the family picture, which actually turned out quite nice aside from Tommy being all: “Hey hey look a camera, I’ve never seen one of these before.”
After a few nights of trying, we finally spotted the unicorn again! I thought this was it for sure; I was already coming up with things to rename her.
Myra: *sniff* Another child? You are not so unlike Master Douchebag after all.
Ara: No wait, I— Ugh! What a temperamental beast!
Speaking of Master Dewchebag—what on Earth are you doing?
Tewl: Da apple dun fall far from da tree, geddit? I’ss a metaphor, yo. I’m da king.
And then I walked in on a crime scene.
Katana: It was Larka. Larka killed her.
Larka: Aww, come on!
I’m inclined to believe her, except that Lance really sucks at playing dead.
Meanwhile, Tomahawk became my scapegoat for everything Supernatural.
Tommy: “Against a dwarf…” Who’s ever going to need this stuff?
That actually was a real charm in the Middle Ages, I kid you not. They also had a riddle about a one-eyed garlic seller. (See? I’m learning stuff!)
Sadly, Tommy’s oh-so-fruitful studies were cut short by curfew.
Agnes: I would like to consign this child, and these cats while we’re at it. I am moving to the Bahamas.
Back at home I discovered that pet deaths are the saddest deaths, much like in the movies.
Grey Wind: Are you my master?
Grim: I am now, pup. I am now.
Ara: Shame on you! How can you take my direwolf away?
Ara: What are you doing?
Grim: Taking a picture of my future wife. My buddies want proof.
Ara: Get real, you pile of bricks. I am having another man’s child.
Ara: Oh, Grey Wind, none shall never fill the gaping chasm in my— Oh, hello there!
This is Nymeria, the new direwolf. I hate to be insensitive (and believe me, Grey Wind was the only Sims 3 pet besides Graculus I’ve ever liked) but Ara can’t afford to lose a BFF in her unicorn pursuit. Also, puppies make everyone happier. It’s a proven fact.
Katana drowned her friendless sorrows by preparing… brains?… in the food processor.
Katana: These are waffles. And I don’t do sorrow.
Sure, I believe you.
Wait… waffles?!? PLEASE NOT WAFFLES! ‘Cause if you get distracted you’re gonna—
Ugh, too late.
Katana: Holy shit, Mom! Why would you get a new puppy the same day Grey Wind died?
Ara: You are right, what on Earth was I thinking?
Nymeria: I’m the bomb is what you were thinking. Hellz yeeeaaaah.
Ara: Wait, what is that smell? Katana—did you by any chance start making… waffles?
If you thought this guy was bad, think again. We have new candidates for Worst Emergency Response Team of All Time.
Ara: You must protect me, Katana! I am carrying your unborn sister!
Katana: But I’m the heiress!
Ara: No you’re not, the results don’t come in until two chapters from now!
I can’t even.
Firefighter: Have no fear, Gurbin 2.0 is here!
Gurbin 2.0: Daaaaaarling, your hair is simply to die for!
Razor: Hey doofus, that’s my baby girl you’re touching. Did I mention I’m a black belt?
Gurbin 2.0: I’ll be going.
Thanks to a combined effort from all three kids, the fire was eventually extinguished. Still, it was more out-of-control than any so far in this legacy and I was legitimately worried we would lose somebody, especially since the confusion made some people *coughLANCEcough* think it was a good idea to bumble around inside the flames. Funtimes were had by all.
At some point, Ara wandered out onto the lawn and popped out the kid who caused the whole thing (in cahoots with Katana). I’ll admit, although she’s not officially part of this generation, I took forever to name her. I’d long since run out of feminine weapon names (I mean duh, ‘cause Lance) but I wanted, at least, to stick to the warrior theme. Conveniently, I’d just finished the last season of Avatar and was suffering a major TV show hangover, so I thought — what do you name a child born amidst chaos and flames?
Thus, she was christened Azula.
For those who don’t know the show, Azula is Princess of the Fire Nation, sister of THE COOLEST GUY EVER, and a total friggin’ maniac.
She starts out a little something like this…
Then goes through a phase like this…
And eventually becomes this:
So yeah, I’ve got high hopes for this kid.
Her mother, apparently, does not.
Ara: I have proven my point. Enjoy this puddle of urine, my trophy child.
And she was subsequently kidnapped—by her own kin, but also probably the worst person possible.
Tourist: Um, should I call the police?
Katana: Chill, I’m just taking her to the Summer Festival. Sisterly bonding and stuff.
Sometimes I forget she’s stuck in “sneak” mode and I genuinely suspect her of malicious intent.
I’m not entirely wrong either. They got there, Katana decided she’d had enough sisterly bonding, and she ditched Azula with a mob of other young’uns.
Darlene: Hold on now, this isn’t some sort of daycare.
Katana: Our dog just died and you can’t watch my sister for half a second while I get a snowcone? GOD, what kind of monster are you??!
Darlene: Well, I— I guess perhaps I could—
Katana: Sweet, bye.
Darlene stayed true to her word, too. I mean I don’t think she touched Azula, but she at least stuck around so no rabid wolves dragged her into the hedges.
And what was Katana doing? Setting off every firecracker in broad daylight, of course.
Lance (who was there too, given this was Sister Day and all) used her natural charm to chat up strangers. Notably Dax French, whose existence I just noticed and who’s kind of cute in a quirky, munchkin-like way.
Dax: What kind of music do you like?
Lance: I GOTTA PEE LIKE A RACEHORSE.
Dax: Huh, never heard of that one.
I was incapable of captioning the next two “wtf” screenshots, so they became an experiment in Unnecessary Censoring. Because Lance is a classy girl and don’t you forget it.
Obviously, she had crippling stomach pains and he prayed for her quick recovery.
Meanwhile, Katana was being pwned by her Uncle Shon (Chris’s kid with Bebe Hart).
Shon: Hell yeah, I win!
The next day, he was involved in a mysterious “accident.”
She did eventually get that snow cone.
Katana: Right out from under their noses.
Um, you paid for it. I literally watched the $8 drain out of our funds.
Katana: Do you want this snow cone in your bloodstream?
How is it that our new heiress is the exact opposite of the last one?
Finally, some actual sisterly bonding occurred.
Lance: I daresay, this has been a rather excellent day.
Katana: Yeah? And just what did you get up to?
Lance: Recovered from appendicitis. I mean what?
And Azula? Lord knows we forgot all about her, but thankfully Darlene stuck around ‘til the end. I’ll be keeping her services in mind.
Except she died like two days later. (
Katana eventually collected the whelp and headed toward home, then deposited her on the gym doorstep and started making merry.
Katana: Happy Birthday, Azula!
I was legitimately trolled for a few seconds before realizing it was, in fact, Katana’s birthday.
Ladies and gentlemen, your heiress.
Katana: I’ve discovered my calling—show me the pole.
Thankfully not the case. She did, however, develop “Party Animal” to round out Grumpy, Hates the Outdoors, Can’t Stand Art, and Perfectionist. The sketchy tiptoeing went nowhere.
Neither did Lance, apparently. She refused to “Go Home” like I told her to and became the second child of Gen. 3 to be arrested.
Officer Stoney-face: You Langurds, always makin’ me late for dinner *grumblegrumble*
Lance: With all due respect, Ma’am—you’re the git standing on the sidewalk.
The mother-daughter lecture that ensued was particularly, uh, tense.
Ara: Silly girl, do you have no brain? I must feel for myself.
Lance: Let me saw your head in half with my sadness.
Ara: The results were inconclusive.
Just as I suspected.
I’ll leave it there because the length and chaos of this chapter has me drained (i.e. it’s 6:40pm and I want to go to sleep… what is that? I’m supposed to be a university student). Sorry for the lack of progress with things. I still have a few more chapters to go before the next generation really starts, because I take a lot of screenshots and this family is far too entertaining and I’ve just never been a concise person, okay? 😛 I’ll try to keep things interesting.
A quick note: Katana, Tomahawk, and Lance are now available for download. So feel free to stick ‘em in your game, but beware Lance’s man jaw and the fact that Tommy resembles a deranged gnome in any other haircut than the one he has now.
Posted on January 24, 2014, in Generashun 3 and tagged arabella, arrested, avatar, azula, birth, birthday, darlene, dax, fire, ghost tewl, grey wind, gurbin 2.0, heiress, hotdogs, katana, keg, lance, larka, murder mystery, myra, nymeria, pet adoption, pet death, pregnancy, rafael, razor, sandi, seasons, shon, sparklefart, summer festival, supernatural, t-rex crawl, tomahawk, university life, waffles will be the death of this family, weston. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.