3.9 Folie à Deux

Bonjour à tous!

And holy schmagoly, guys, could you be any more awesome? Last week, I tried to quit coffee and it was a real bad time. But I also got an army of simselves and a gargantuan legacy reading list, so that was cool. It seems you were all churning out some fantastic stuff while I was off in my struggle bubble, just trying to pull a chapter together. Now I’m racing to catch up so I can participate in heir polls and stuff, like a clueless citizen reading up on politics the night before an election. Oh wait, that’s also me.

I hope you’ll forgive me if the simselves don’t show up for a few chapters yet. I currently have a screenshot backlog of 2000 or so, meaning these pictures are like ten months old, and I haven’t opened the game in about as long. And I wonder why my captioning is so shoddy.

We return now to the House of the Elements, where I can say with certainty (and lots of gusto) that WINTER IS COMING! Danger lurks beyond the Wall and oops, Razor’s plants went dormant so I figured out how to grow stuff inside. It only took me twenty minutes.

Razor: It is clearly labelled “planter bowl.” How hard could it be?

REALLY HARD SHUT UP. #12yearsan00b

Meanwhile, Katana flounders more and more as a mother of three.

Katana: C’mon, guy, you couldn’t toss her a bottle once in a while?

Mustachio: I lost my hands in ze Civil War.

Katana: That’s rough, but I got three kids. Give a little.

She called up Weston, her escape clause.

Katana: So this “raising toddlers” thing… lol, I don’t get it. Come save me?

Apparently he took her quite literally because he came dressed as a paramedic. And he was willing to comply with her midlife whims on one condition.

Weston: I like you and all, but if we get together, I don’t think we should have kids. We’re getting pretty old and you already have more than you can handle, no offense.

Katana: Absolutely. No kids. I’m done with those things.

Razor: Katana, honey, you’d better not be taking him where I think you are.

Katana: Silly Dad. No one ever got pregnant from shower woohoo.

HELL YEAH THEY DID. What, you think I’d let all that townie breeding go to waste? We’re getting a kid out of this guy, and that’s final. I think I heard chimes. 😀

Katana: I officially hate everything.

Weston left just as Dax came home from work, and Razor played devil’s advocate as he so likes to do.

Razor: Is there anything you want to tell your husband, Katana?

Katana: What? Oh yeah— nice sweatsuit, Clark Spent.

And Azula—oh yeah, she’s still here—came home to two needy children in her room, as planted strategically by their mother.

Florin: Feed us, please!

Azula: I forgot… I have to go wash the front lawn…

The diversion worked, and Mommy dearest was able to make her escape in the rain.

Razor: Katana, you can’t just run off and leave your kids unsuperv–

Katana: HARG BLARG BLARG BLARG sorry Dad you’re cutting out on me.

Apparently her defiance was contagious because suddenly, the citizens of Shang Simla went full badass.

Jiang Lu: Yeah, that’s right! You aren’t the boss of me, you petty box of cash! I QUIT!

*drawer opens, hits him in the face*

I’ll spare you the gritty details of the trip, ‘cause it was a long one filled with fire traps and pushable statues and tent life and all the things Katana LOVES. Instead, I give you “The Disinterested Adventurer,” featuring Katana’s mundane antics in and around Shang Simla.

Day One. This French tourist doesn’t know how hostels work. I feel soggy just looking at her. wtf why did i think that was even a remotely okay thing to write omg

Edith: Thank you, mystical creamsicle saviour!

Katana: Whatever, lady. I’m just here for the handiness point.

At least she keeps her eyes open for pickpockets.

Day Two or something.

Katana: Look bro, one hand!

Ah, the invisible book glitch.

Day Three. Go home, Katana. You’re drunk.

Katana: No I’M drunk.

Day Four.

Katana: So by the way, your son is like THIS BIG now.

Sun: I can’t see your arm gestures through the phone. And wait, I have a son??

Katana: Welp, see ya.

Day Five.

Katana: Hey, what happened to “sparing the gritty details”?

Oh, I was…

…until you got yourself locked inside this room, ‘cause that was pretty hilarious.

Katana: I will beat you.

Good luck with that, Spaghetti Arms. 😉

Back at home, I have to give Daxtana some credit for trying to mend their relationship. Yet nobody can use the dance floor now without remembering how Katana gave birth on it.

Dax: We should have another one and birth it in the swimming pool!

Katana: No! 😀

Azula stayed in her Spooky Day costume far too long after the party was over, probably to spite me. I trembled a little every time she walked onscreen.

Azula: That’s right. Fear me. I’m unstable and dangerous.

“Unstable and dangerous” promptly got socked in the face by the new Bonehilda.

Azula: Dammit, just get back in your coffin already!

Bonehilda: Lol, you can’t make me.

Why “new” Bonehilda? Well, the first one caused some problems. I thought replacing her in Buy Mode would fix them. It didn’t. I cried.

But just hang on a sec because…

YESSSS. PUKE, MY LOVELY.

Katana: Don’t get too excited. I’m just nauseated by the decor.

Please, you aren’t fooling anyone. Pastel primaries are the bomb.

Balboa knows what’s up.

Balboa: Whoopee! More baby brothers and sisters for me!

Balboa: My bad, I wasn’t really excited about that. Happy Birthday to me.

Katana: Here, I got you a present.

Balboa rolled Supernatural Fan. Too bad he doesn’t look capable of being a “fan” of anything.

Except maybe his Auntie Azula’s amateur strumming. He likes to bop along as she races to finish her “Master of the Arts” LTW, though it’s a wonder he can hear through those ear flaps.

Balboa: WHAT??

You know your sim has boring traits when you choose to base their style around “Heavy Sleeper.” But secretly I am pretty satisfied with how I pulled it off.

In honour of his eternal pyjama party, we decided to replace everyone’s beds with sleeping bags!

No we fucking didn’t. Bonehilda, you see—she glitched up the beds so badly that no one could sleep in them for a week, and I deleted and repurchased and debugged and reset until the cows came home. I rage quit like five times.

Katana: Can I rage quit?

No, but I promise this will be the last one! Household constraints and such.

Katana: I’ll constrain you.

It’s scary how much she doesn’t care.

If I were Katana, I’d be keeping an eye on this one. I mean honestly—born on Spooky Day, aged up during a full moon, Evil and Insane…

…but look at her, she’s such a doll.

Lira: Come play with me.

No one played with her. Katana, for one, was on a moonlit date as far away as possible.

Katana: Whose idea of fun was this?

Weston: I don’t know, it’s pretty romantic though. Freezing our nether regions. Waiting for these icicles to fall on our heads.

Weston: HOLY SHIT, a zombie! Run!!

Katana: No wait, I got a game we can play.

Katana: Watch this—“Nyuuurrrgh I’m a zombie and I’m too stupid to hold my neck up straight.”

Zombie: Hey now, that’s a stereotype.

Katana: “Hurr nurr, thurt’s a shtuuurrrryturrrp.” Your turn!

Zombie: Man, I’m so tired of people like you!

Weston: “Urm shurr tuuuurrrrrrrd!”

Katana: Damn, that’s not bad.

Meanwhile, this happened:

And I thought, well, if Katana’s going to have her torrid affair, who am I to deprive Dax of a little mischief? Especially when it’s with Lance, because LOL.

I followed him there only to find that Lance, like her sister, was moderately pregnant. With Eddy’s child. These girls are Tewl’s grandchildren through and through.

Lance: Hey best friend! So glad you could make it! –SLAP-

Dax: Owwie!

This motley duo actually work together, according to my notes. I had to leaf through forever to find it, but there it is: “Dax’s team = old people and Lance.” If you were to make a ship name for them, it would have to be “Dance” or “Lax.” Holy hell, what have I created?

Lance: This is my ideal first date. Like omg. Aren’t you having fun?

Dax: What happens to bumblebees in winter?

Lance loves her life and I don’t know why.

Dax played his own game with zombies. It’s called “being a moron and trying to get yourself killed.”

Dax: Whoaaa gross, it’s all hollow in there!

Zombie: HUNGGGHHH??

And Balboa and Gramps weren’t about to miss out on the full moon fun.

Razor: Come on, Boa! Are you going to let an old man get the best of you?

Balboa: That balloon was frozen…

P.S. Damn you, floating rectangles.

I later found Dax in the mausoleum, reflecting on the achievements of past Langurds. I wouldn’t have even thought to look for him until this popped up:

A proud family history. I’d forgotten that Tewl’s second son was a centaur.

Razor is quite easily the best grandparent ever. I mean, nobody else in this legacy has been one for more than a few hours. But still.

Razor: Well, aren’t you just the sweetest little thing!

Lira: Will you be my friend?

Azula: Don’t listen to it, Father. That thing is definitely possessed.

Lira: Whaaaaat! You mean you don’t want to be my friend?!

Razor: Jesus, that was shrill.

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HOLY SHIT GAME OF THRONES JUST HAPPENED AND I CAN’T KEEP WRITING THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE EVERYTHING IS RUINED AND I HAVE TO WASH MY EYEBALLS OUT BRB

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Sorry about that. Where was I? Oh yeah, it’s a school day and Balboa the lazy lump is not at school. What gives?

Balboa: Meh, it’s a snow day. I’m going back to bed.

A snow day? Let’s take a look again at the amount of snow outside…

What’s that, 10cm? YOU WIMPS. We were getting –40^o wind chills while I was playing this, and they never closed MY university. The North remembers. So does the tip of my nose.

Florin: Change my diaper, I’m stinky!

Katana: Change my diaper, I’m stinky!

Florin: Stop copying me!

Katana: Stop copying me!

That poor, poor kid.

Katana: You know why your Auntie Azula walks around in a mask all the time? It’s ‘cause her face got eaten by a chimpanzee and now she looks like one. True story.

Azula: A chimpanzee? Ha! Oh, foolish sister. Just wait until you feel the wrath of my young adult beauty.

Katana: I think I feel it. It feels like childbirth.

And it’s off to the hospital with you, so as not to permanently taint any more parts of the house, thank you very much.

But don’t worry, Katana—I feel the wrath, too. It feels like “wasted genes.”

Azula: Sucks to be you!

But not really, because Katana is the bomb and I thank you all for voting her in. Seriously.

Azula grew up looking like a well-adjusted young woman, ironically rolling the first trait (Hot-Headed) that might actually correspond with her maniacal namesake.

From there, I just had to milk her for all the legacy points she was worth. Strum your little heart out, Fire Princess.

Azula: SECRET TUNNELLLLLLL

But then…

Katana: Get out.

Azula: What? Why?

Katana: You don’t live here anymore. You officially moved out three hours ago.

Azula: No, I didn–

Katana: LALALALA, can’t hear you.

All seems well, right? Cute little baby in a pink blanket (Drachma is her name, a Perceptive Grump who loves hot pink, chili, and soul)—what could be wrong?

Meet Lev, her twin.

Yeah, that’s right. Razor + Katana + Dax + Azula + Balboa + Florin + Lira + Lev + Drachma = 9 = We screwed up. AGAIN. I don’t even know how or why. Some mod or something got reset or like whatever.

To clarify, Lev the lump of snow is female. She was actually born before Drachma, but Katana picks her favourites early and leaves the rejects in the dust two feet of snow. You want polar opposite twins? You got ‘em: Lev is Excitable and Eccentric, favouring grey, shawarma, and classical music.

And now, oh happy day, Katana gets to deal with five kids. I feel like this would be a good time to pull some blackmail out of my sleeve…

You see that? She wanted it. I repeat: she specifically asked for it. I’ll hear no more complaining, and that is that. *pompous sniff*

So yes, to keep things as fair as possible, we sent Azula packing. She gave us a portrait but no LTW, so she is officially good for nothing except her face. Thanks, kid!

Azula: I have graced you with my presence for too long.

Yeah, y— wait, I JUST noticed there are unicorns on that wallpaper and am now doing a happy dance inside. How perfect is that?

Speaking of which, I may have to explode with glee if this flirtation goes anywhere.

(Spoiler: It doesn’t, goddammit.)

Woo, a baby Lance. Nobody cares.

With a couple of tots and two wee babes and not enough cribs to go around, the nursery could use some renovations and TLC.

Katana: To hell with that!

She is actually so lucky. If I could run away from China every time life got hard, I’d be laughing.

Katana: HAHAHAHA, Pingu’s Axe, motherfuckers!

I know, it’s “Pangu.” But this is way better. And more terrifying.

And wow, it makes adventuring a breeze.

Katana: Yesssss, more time for naps now.

You idiot, don’t take naps on the edge of a dive well.

Katana: Nnnngh. Where am I?

Looks like a hotel lobby. Er, with fire.

Katana: Go go gadget steam jets!

…Aaaand nothing. The flames were “too high” for Katana to cross and the traps “too difficult” to disarm. I don’t even read the How-To’s unless I’m desperate, but every tutorial ever says “activate the steam traps to put out the fire.” Because that would be the logical way. But fuck logic, them flames don’t care.

Forsaken by physics and online help, I did some problem solving of my own. Trouble is, my personal brand of problem solving is notoriously long-winded. This one time, I sewed an apron because I was too lazy to change my clothes to make cookies. I don’t even remember if I made the cookies in the end. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Phase One of the master plan.

Katana: I hate this. This is dumb.

Movin’ on up!

Paparazzi: Wow, love the belt. Never seen one like it.

Katana: Makes a great gag in a pinch.

She went to wait out the fatigue and was passionately jumped by Ai Pei, the special merchant. It must be all those useless missions she’s done for him.

Ai: I can’t live without you! You bring me such fine beetles!

Paparazzi: Oooh, this is gonna be good. Kick his ass, Langurd.

Paparazzi: Wait, seriously?

Yeah, seriously?

After that little incident, I had her dance away the fatigue instead.

Katana: You’re just jealous, ‘cause I’m a goddamn seductress and you’re sitting at a computer in flannel zebra pants.

THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR, BACK TO WORK

Phase One complete!

Katana: I AM THE GREEN MONSTER OF RAAAAAAGE

*Envy. Get your chromatic symbolism right, gosh.

Back to the Fire Lobby we go, because yes, at Martial Arts level five, you too can defy the laws of physics.

Katana: Trolololololol

Katana: Hmm, trolling is hungry work.

I’ll say, especially when THERE IS NO FIRE ANYMORE, WTF?? This must have escaped my attention?? I’m hoping I just captured the flames in their “off” phase of flickering, rather than failing to notice they had been put out. Otherwise I would look a right fool.

Anyway, the mission was a success. Katana got to Visa Level 2 or something and even had time to grab the mail before she left.

Katana: Ugh. Being desirable is exhausting.

Yeah, sucks to be you alright.

Sucks to be this guy is more like. His wife is out there getting all the lads and ladies, and my zebra pants have got nothing on that yellow snowsuit.

Dax: Hey, I don’t remember getting laid in the last ten months. Get out of my house, magical Jesus baby!

Katana: Stop playing favourites. Drachma is a person too.

That’s Lev.

Katana: Whatever.

Razor does as much damage control as he can, but Florin just looks perpetually confused.

Razor: That’s it, just a few more steps.

Florin: Why is your topcoat eating your legs? Is it going to eat me too?

Balboa: Oh, I guess I was supposed to use my hands.

At that point, the prospect of any of the five kids growing into a capable heir seemed laughable. I thought we’d try to be normal like other families, and go on a nice outing. Just a mother and her firstborn son, off to the Winter Festival. How adorable.

Malissa Newbie: Spin me, Daddy!

Bob: Okay, but be warned, your daddy is quite the spinning pro!

See? Why can’t my sims be more like—

Bob: Oof!

Malissa: You suck, Daddy!

Okay, so everyone is a little messed up around here.

Balboa: Whoa this is trippy I’m standing on knives

Speaking of messed up, look who showed and followed her big sister around the rink like a shadow.

Lance: Show me how to skate like you!

Too bad they’re equally rubbish.

Katana: It’s okay, sis, we’ll learn together.

Lance: Wow, really?

Katana: Nope, you’re on your own.

Um yeah, that is NOT how you spin.

But this is pretty decent form. Point your fingers and I might give it a positive G.O.E..

Katana: No.

Fun fact: All sims are programmed as reverse skaters. Most people IRL actually spin counter-clockwise and would do this spin on their left foot. I always thought I was a rarity as a clockwise skater, but now I’m not special anymore, so thanks, EAxis.

/pretentious wisdom sharing

It’s rare finding other kids at the festivals, so I had Balboa try to make a friend.

Balboa: Did you know we’re all in a game on a computer being controlled with big green diamonds that hover over our heads?

Malissa: Are you high?

And for this chapter’s entirely irrelevant ending, here’s Florin after he birthdayed into childhood and picked up “No Sense of Humour.”

Florin: A dyslexic man walks into a bra! Hahaha, geddit? Eh? Eh?

Jeez, I said no sense of humour, not bad sense of humour.

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Sorry this took so long! Office work is turning me into an uncreative robot. Come back soon for more bad parenting and France or Egypt or something. And now back to that reading list.

Happy Simming!

-Sam

P.S. Has anybody seen The Fault in Our Stars yet? Holy cow, it was good. Statistically (*ahem* Rotten Tomatoes is definitely statistics) you’ll only hate it if you’re a male who writes off “emotionally charged” as “sappy,” and thinks anything is crap that attracts an audience of teen girls. In that case, I hate you. Just kidding. 😉 I may be bitter about certain people’s responses. TL;DR: Would recommend. And now I’m ending this rant and publishing this chapter.