I maintain the right to use that exact same chapter title on every first chapter I write ever.
Hello!
God, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, it’s going to take a minute for things to kick back into gear.
This is my third go at documenting a Sims legacy (the Kalaya ISBI and Zarall EPIC Legacy are essentially on hiatus, but I could go back to them eventually), but it’s been about 4 years since I last did anything on any blog so I feel quite the fresh-faced amateur all over again.
Also, not to put any potential readers off straight from the beginning, but I have no hopes for this Legacy. None whatsoever. I have 0 attention span and a lot of difficulty with sticking to things (no joke, I started a Master’s degree in September and as of two days ago I’ve temporarily withdrawn until maybe next year), so I’m approaching this whole shebang with the wariness of someone creeping up on a tiger. Unless that person is me, in which case I would launch myself at said tiger because I love tigers and would honestly be happy enough if ‘mauled by tiger’ is on my death certificate. Circle of life and all that.
Sorry, went a bit off-topic there.
Without further ado, allow me to introduce our Founder, Miss Anna Bennet. Named after two literary heroines (Karenina and Elizabeth, respectively), if I hadn’t done the randomising of her traits and likes myself, I would think she was purposefully created as my reader-insert. I’m not really a technophobe, and seafood is a nightmare (even vegetarian versions), and I’m only Brooding if Brooding is code for clinically depressed, but everything else? Yep, that’s me.
I’m also not ginger, so at least I have that going for me.
Anna: Isn’t it one of your recessive genes?
Alright, no need for that.
We’re beginning in the beautiful Winchester Farming Community! It’s small and empty, so I’m hoping we can stick out a few generations here before having to move somewhere else.
And, luckily for us, it comes with its very own patch of large Legacy-lot grass and beach and stuff, costing us exactly §14,700 in true Legacy fashion.
Anna: I’m poor now 😦
You sure are!
Anna: This requires deep levels of introspection.
Not really. You’re broke as shit. Pretty easy to understand.
And considering said ‘broke as shit’ status, it’s therefore customary to introduce our incredible hellhole home!
Anna: If I never look behind me, how will I know it’s there?
Alright, Shrödinger, it’s getting old now.
Just what every Legacy founder needs: a mini-fridge, sleeping bag, shitty sofa, toilet, sink, and shower! All the basics just kind of strewn at random across a giant grass square. What else does anyone require?
Anna: Uh, three more walls and a roof?
Psshhh, overrated.
But despite how much I’m sure Anna would just love to hang around her pile of belongings all day, we’ve got things to do, so it’s off to the library stat.
Anna: Oh boy, books.
Books indeed, because becoming a Professional Author isn’t going to happen on its own. Considering our girl is a Technophobe, and I wasn’t quite willing to force her onto (gasp!) a computer in order to pen her literary masterpieces, I hopped onto MTS and grabbed a scribbling pad so she can do things old school.
Anna: It would really suck if my handwriting was completely illegible, wouldn’t it?
Don’t even joke. We need those words, sloppily scribbled or no.
Of course, having your Sim sat at a table writing doesn’t really make for very exciting gameplay, so for most of this time, I was left to giggle over how much it looks like she’s stuck doing homework.
Anna: I’ve forgotten the quadratic formula again 😦
To think I used to know things like that. Thankfully I finished my Maths GCSE and my brain deleted every piece of maths-related information I had ever learned, knowing full well it would never be needed again. 8 years on, I am living the happiest little maths-less life (mostly because I’m an English girlie, but anyway).
Finally, after sitting for a good couple of hours at this point, we were graced with another presence. Every 10 sim-minutes, my game had been lagging to inform me that another bin immigrant had moved into the previously empty town, so imagine my glee upon seeing the first result of that rapid immigration.
…Oh. I was expecting you to be hotter.
Lucia: You’re no prize yourself.
Touché.
Still, she was the only person around, so I followed her like a little creep just to have something else to look at. The library in WFC has a little coffee shop attached, and Lucia here was the barista. Unfortunately, she had a terrible case of silage-brown hair.
Lucia: Says the dirty-blonde.
…I don’t think I want to talk to her anymore.
What’s that look for?
Anna: I have a writing skill 🙂
Yes, you do. Time to write a novel!
Edgar Anna Poe, if you will.
(Side Note: I changed my UI colour a few days ago and it’s genuinely what keeps bringing me back to play some more. Something about pretty colours and attention spans? I don’t know)
Speaking of attention spans, I have no idea how Anna can write anything with THIS staring her right in the face.
Lucia: Again, you’re no pri-
No, not you, I meant the food!!!
Seriously, those brownies look huge, I don’t know how she concentrates. I’m salivating just imagining the smell of all those baked goods mixing with the scent of books.
Luckily, to avoid me putting my foot in my mouth again, I was torn away from the coffee bar at the entrance of another bin immigrant. This is Martha Tripp, a 1-star celebrity.
Martha: Oh boy, books!
It’s like they’ve never been in a library before.
As evidenced by her choosing a wooden bench to read on. Talk about uncomfortable. Even the cushions look like they’re made of wood. Miss thing plopped herself down here and cracked open ‘The Dreams of Jerome’. What are the dreams of Jerome?
Martha: He wants to be a serial killer.
Oh.
Unfortunately, reading about some fella’s murderous aspirations is far more entertaining than writing, apparently, because Anna started to get stressed out with 63% of her debut novel written. Better than me; I get stressed out two paragraphs into any writing project.
In an attempt to get that fun bar up a bit again, I sent her off to talk to the celebrity, and she stood cracking her back (something I wish I could do, I swear) while Martha ran off to set her book down.
Anna: The life of a writer is tiring work (CRACK)
Tell me about it. Actually don’t, because I’d rather not open that particular can of brain worms.
Anna: H-hello, Miss celebrity, ma’am.
Martha: It’s so funny when the normies think they can impress me.
Anna: Well, uh, I have a single skill point in writing, so…
Martha: Actually, that’s pretty impressive.
Anna: Really?
Yeah, really?
Maybe not that impressive, apparently. Unfortunately for Anna, it’s literally all she has going for her right now.
Luckily Martha must be pretty strapped for company too, because she started chatting as though she’d known Anna all her life.
Martha: And then I was like, “Listen here, Mayor Frederick, you should really give Geoff another shot, or I’ll have to tell Mr. Richardson about what you’re getting up to with his wife.”
Anna: I definitely know who all those people are!
Martha: And then he got on the TREADMILL! With his arthritis?!
Anna: Whoa no way that’s crazy.
Between bouts of over-familiar storytelling, I did keep using the ole “I have one whole writing skill point, isn’t that cool?” line, and it actually nearly got the bar filled before she refused to hear any more. Apparently, it gets old after the first seven times.
So with that attempt scuppered for now, I sent her off to City Hall to complete the requisite “Join Writer career” wish.
Anna: I’m a writimer!
You sure are, buddy. Let’s go do something fun.
Off we went to Grandma’s Saloon, a cute little pub (Here in Ireland, that’s usually an oxymoron). I initially went there with the intent of doing some more writing, but then the immigrant-ogling kind of took hold (please never take that out of context).
The party was in full swing.
Raven: Yup, this is a bar.
Greta: You might be thinking a 1-star celebrity is too cool to be here, but I’m just like everyone el- is that a speck of dust?!
This place is also a Showtime SimFest place, so upstairs we found the Proprietor thinking about himself, and I had to stop myself from being weird about men with long hair.
Ti-Ning: I still can’t believe this is my life now. Me, a Proprietor? Will I ever be able to handle the pressure?
What, the pressure of having two whole patrons in the bar? Get over yourself, man.
Still, I sent Anna up to meet him because, again, men with long hair.
Ti-Ning: You look like some kind of book nerd.
Anna: …Thanks.
Ti-Ning: So what, you wanna have kids together?
Woah, what’s with this turn of events?
Oh.
Well, joke’s on you, hat man, a Legacy Founder isn’t going to be swayed by that kind of conversation, having kids is all they’re made for-
Dangit.
Thank God this isn’t an ISBI, or I would be slamming my head against a wall right about now.
Downstairs, a new arrival had heralded some confusion in the bar area.
Greta: (desperately) So, check out that weather right? It’s pretty…nice, huh?
Raven: Sure, it’s not like I have to work or anything.
Blue fella is called Dion Greco, and I was spurred on by his lack of celebrity status to send Anna over for an introduction.
Anna: Wait, I can teleport?
You can when the only door to the bar area is locked and I want you to meet people. Is that cheating? Eh, no.
Dion: She seemed nice.
Greta: That guy is my soulmate, I know it!
Yeah, it turns out I’m just an idiot and the action was cancelling out because, I don’t know, there wasn’t a lot of room behind the bar? We’ll just ignore the unnecessary use of teleportation, right guys? (Please don’t kill me)
Dion: Too bad! It states very clearly in the rules: NO. CHEATING.
Anna: Damn, okay. Didn’t know you were the Legacy Police.
Dion: …Shit. My cover’s been blown.
He then proceeded to run off, but I sent Anna in hot pursuit.
Anna: I won’t tell anyone about it if you answer a question for me.
Dion: Fine.
Worth it.
Dion: With that out of the way, it’s time for me to tell you about my favourite thing in the world: Blood!
Ah great, he’s a weirdo.
With that knowledge, Anna decided it was time to show everyone what her favourite thing in the world is.
Anna: Alcohol!
Anna: Hey bartender lady, if I drink enough alcohol, will I die?
Raven: Kid, as long as you’re paying me, I couldn’t care less.
I discovered pretty quickly that our girl has some kind of sixth sense because, seconds before her drink was put down in front of her, I got this pop-up:
Which is pretty fortuitous, considering how we are, again, damn broke.
Anna: I love drinking 🙂
Raven: I love my job.
All that drinking is not so easy on the bladder, however, so down to the basement bathroom we went, where it turned out is where the party had relocated to. I’m also pretty sure beanie guy is just a face-one non-immigrant, so he is hideously unimportant and we don’t care about him whatsoever.
Anna didn’t care either, staggering past them and back to the stairs to return to her new favourite spot.
Anna: Annnnother drink, pleeeease
Raven: Should I cut her off? …Nah.
She may have started regretting that decision pretty damn soon, though.
Oh yeah, that’s drunk behaviour, alright.
So is this.
Anna: I’VE NEVER TASTED ANYTHING IN MY LIFE AS GOOD AS THIS SPAGHETTI RIGHT NOW
Reminds me of my first year of undergrad and the routine noodle-making at 3am after a drinking night. Nothing ever tastes as good as food when you’re drunk, I swear.
Except maybe more drinking? I am starting to worry about you now, girl.
Anna: I loveeeeee derrrinking!
It’s not even 9pm either, this is just embarrassing.
Drink number 3 was the pink flirty one. Which, incidentally, is exactly the type of cocktail I would gravitate towards.
Anna: Pink drink!!!!
The pink drink got taken off to the shuffleboard table, where a 3-star celebrity was playing. She was all set to join in, too, but the action disappeared and she just stood there, drinking.
Anna: Drinking is better than shuffleboarding!
Tosha: I think you need to go home.
Anna: Okayyyyy!
She instead returned to the bar, where she engaged in behaviour which is less drunk and more absolutely shit-faced:
That poor bartender.
Drink number 4, I believe.
Anna: Donnnn’ judge me!
Too late.
With that drink well and truly downed, she stumbled her way upstairs.
And straight to annoying this guy instead.
Anna: I jus’ loveeeee books!!!!
I think she might actually be me.
Unfortunately, I have to leave it there. She finished talking at Ti-Ning, made her way back out to the keg, and then my game crashed. ashdgasgajfhasfh.
I know for definite that the last save was when she was in the bar, but I suspect when I boot the game up again it’ll be before any of the drinks, which is annoying.
I also want to mention that the only direction I gave her during the drinking montage was when she wished to have a drink mid-spaghetti, everything else was entirely autonomous. Considering my complete lack of experience with regular legacies and my preference for ISBIs and the like, I am mostly going to be leaving my Sims on free will unless they wish for something specific/have an opportunity/are about to die. I think it’ll be more interesting that way, anyway.
Anyhoo, that’s all I’ve got for now. Hopefully, it won’t take me too long to update again (famous last words).
Thanks for reading, and Happy Simming everyone!
The Bennet Legacy 