The second beginning of Bridget Belue was more than humble. It was dreadfully, pitiably impoverished.
That’s a little better.
This second beginning was not one of personal choice, in fact, Bridget had not been looking forward to it from its conception. Her therapist had recommended it, however, and her widowed mother and loan shark grandmother were avid supporters. “Quit thinking about that damn, no good, horse wrangling, puppy mangling lowlife,” said her grandmother. “Damn fool had it coming.”
Despite their warnings, Bridget couldn’t help but think of her father. She didn’t like to think of how he died, but it had been rather interesting, and she supposed she could garner some friends and sympathy for it. It could help to accomplish her, different, goals.
Her father had had a mission. One foggy, autumn morning, he woke up with a jolt, sitting up straight in bed, eyes open wide. He crawled out of bed and walked slowly to the kitchen. Bridget was sitting at the table, attempting to finish last week’s biology assignment. She really liked biology-she truly did-but she rarely found the time to do her homework between late night phone calls and National Geographic programs. The morning was the best time, but on this particular morning, it became the worst.
“I had a dream,” said her father softly, sitting down across from her. He folded his hands in his lap. “We are going to be great.”
“Cool,” Bridget had said, doodling a spaceship on the corner of her page.
“In my dream, I had a vision. I think it’s from the presence-the one always watching us.”
Bridget leaned in closer and set down her pencil. She often wondered about the presence. Her mother claimed that her father had an intense connection with it, and though often he spouted cryptic phrases, he rarely had a legitimate message.
“Ten generations, Bridget. We must raise ten generations. The presence promised our family a grand prize after we have survived for so long; we will receive it in the afterlife,” he sighed, smiling. “It will be beautiful. Cheesy, warm, delicious. You must do this, Bridget. It won’t be easy. The presence is not a kind one, I think, and will make things rough for us, but you must begin it. We must be timeless.”
“Timeless, huh,” said Bridget. Returning to her homework, she added, “I’ll see what I can do.”
A week later, her father died in a knife fight with a homeless man. He wanted to buy the man’s dog. The man wanted to eat it. An argument ensued, and her father ended up face down in the gutter, a knife protruding from his back. The police thought it quite funny. Bridget found it quite sad, which they found very surprising.
Now a year later, on her own and only slightly better off than her father’s murderer, Bridget knew what must be done. Whatever cheesy goodness awaited in the afterlife had better be worth her trouble.
“Honey, the sixties are over.”
The neighbors had arrived.
The welcoming party hardly qualified as a party, or even a get together. The grass was a bit itchy, and the brunette man particularly grated on Bridget’s nerves. She rather liked Darren, though. Double lightening bolts, that was surely a good sign.
Black hair? Major turn on. Total lack of fashion sense? Bridget was sold. Someone was needed to bring in the second generation. She couldn’t just impregnate herself, after all.
After a few chats, she treated him to her specialty-the orgasmic hand kiss. The other visitors shuffled to the other end of the lot, and said in hushed whispers.
“How does she do that?”
“Hell, my wife does better. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“Get some!” shouted the brunette man.
Embarrassed, Darren Dreamer slunk home. Bridget, unsuccessful in her attempts to get him to move in, was forced to get a job.
The medical branch seemed to pay well. Bridget hoped she could put that biology knowledge to use, or at least her experience at washing blood out of clothes.
Perhaps she would have been better off as a stripper.
Quite creepily, Darren seemed to agree.
After much more seduction and inane conversations, Darren agreed to move in. He was incredibly dreamy, Bridget thought.
Hold up.
What the fuck.
$43,995 dollars!? Who has the sort of money? Wow, way to make the first generation easy.. Damn, I had no idea he was so rich. I feel like a cheater.
With this sort of money, it was time to build a proper home.
Darren came into the family with two types of baggage. The first was sacks of money.
The second was a teenage son, Dirk Dreamer. He was a bit too smart and bit too lacking in personality, and so he was crucially overlooked in the building of the house.
Looks like Dirk will be getting better acquainted with nature.
I like the background story π Can’t wait to read more
Cool. Just started reading your blog now as well. π Nice writing style. Humorous and a bit sarcastic… I like it π
This is amazing. I love the way you write. And you’re making me want TS2 again! π
That last picture really did it for me! Ha ha poor Dirk!
I felt so bad for him, too! (And looking back at this, for my readers. I am SO glad I got the hang of taking decent screenshots and upped the graphics settings. These shots are awful. ;_; )
Oh my gosh! A Sims 2 Legacy β€ I shall continue reading. I also have created a Sims Story and its a bit new so I'm asking if you could like check it out and give me some feedback on it? http://themayrastory.wordpress.com/ Thanks π
I’m glad you like it so far! The Sims 2 was a blast while it lasted. (:
hahaha awww poor Dirk. Let’s hope he gets to move indoors soon.
I’m just starting to read your legacy, because I hear about it EVERYWHERE. haha. Really good so far, it has me wanting to read more. π Quick question – this is Sims 2, right? But your current posts are Sims 3? When/How did that happen? Haha.
And on another note, I’m just starting a legacy of my own. Any tips for me? π
Thank you so much! Your comment brought a huge smile to my face (and to the screen, haha(. π The Belues started on the Sims 2 during a time that I didn’t have a computer capable of the Sims 3 monster-I say that lovingly (mostly), but after a few months my Sims 2 game twatted out on me, and so I had to get a new laptop, and the Sims 3 followed! Some days I really miss Sims 2, though. The game was so wacky.
Oooh, I’ll have to check it out! I love reading legacies. π Some advice? Hm… Above all things-grammar, spelling, random extreme plot twists-have fun with your writing! Something that is grueling for you to write is often grueling for your audience to read. For some legacy tips, try not to get bogged down in one generation. It’s not fair to the rest of your characters, and can make starting a new generation even more daunting than it has to be.
Hope those were helpful! (:
Glad I could make you smile! π I think it’s awesome that you still find time to read other legacies and reply to comments on yours, even with your legacy being so popular. A lot of legacies I see tend to ignore their readers when they get big. So thank you for being an awesome person. π
Thank you for the tips! I always check my grammar before posting something, but I’ve still had some mistakes here and there. Ooh, plot twists, I’ll have to think about that one! I’ll keep all of these in mind, thank you so much!
LoL poor Dirk. He’s one of my favorite Maxis made sims though. I married him to one of my own sims, got rid of his Pleasant girlfriend.
The story looks interesting. Going to get caught up!
I donβt know if youβre aware but the settings for your blog have it so that full posts (all of them at once) appear in peopleβs readers. Thereβs an option to change so that it only shows summaries and then they can click to go directly to the post. Helps for those of us with slow connections.
β€ awesome. I played sims 2 for a short time and my sim moved in with Darren too, I felt similarly about his son.
Haha, Dirk really gets the short end of things. I love Darren, though. Bummer Bridget is so awful to him.
…You’re making me miss Sims 2 again!