Welcome to the Sharpesvale Chronicles, an ongoing neighbourhood story in The Sims 2!
Warning: this journal may contain uncensored nudity, violence, profanity and sexual themes.
Updates every damn day!
In which an adult is born.
Abigail: Are you ready to make history?
Nick: We haven’t made enough whoopie yet.
Nick: How many hours must have gone into making you…
I didn’t count.
I haven’t counted how long any of this took.
I’m both pleased and saddened by that fact.
Abigail: On your left.
Nick: Thanks for the warning, cryptic as it was.
Abigail: I’m charring up the rest of my Aspiration rewards. It takes a lot of raw material to make a person.
Nick: I prefer the traditional method.
Abigail: I’m not having your baby.
Nick: Have me instead, then.
Nick: I don’t like how messily these metaphors are mixing.
Abigail: Let’s do some fluid mixing instead, then.
Nick: Are those skinny-ass arms steel reinforced or something?
Abigail: Hahaha! Steel.
Nick: I feel… taller.
Abigail: Yeah, I turned the HARDIS on.
Nick: The what?
Abigail: Height And Relative Dick Inches Synchronizer.
Nick: Hahaha your kids suck.
Abigail: Not as hard as you suck.
Abigail: Yeah, awkward mixing, I know.
Theresa: I hate science monitoring duty. Either nothing happens and it’s dull as shit, or there’s a cascade failure, the aliens invade and you’re an extra in some crowbar-wielding lunatic’s shooting gallery.
Abigail: We’re shooting for an outcome somewhere between those poles.
Nick: Speaking of poles.
Nick: Okay, this size changing thing is terrifying.
Abigail: You being terrified is a small price to pay for me not getting my chin slobbered.
Nick: Yeah, I don’t really need my nose lip-massaged, I guess.
Abigail: You’re going to make some woman very happy some day, Nick. And then probably another one, and another one, and another one, and then you’ll make them all furious.
Nick: I know who my dad is, you don’t have to remind me.
Nick: Especially not right before we fuck.
Nick: So I take it you’re romantically unavailable.
Abigail: Are you immortal, and a genius?
Nick: Probably not.
Abigail: PROBABLY not, ha!
Theresa: I hope they get dressed before the baby is born.
Abigail: Oh, we’re not making babies today.
Nick: Not literally, anyway.
Abigail: Just a second, my bionic spine locked up.
Nick: Once you’ve got all the clones-
Nick: -you need, I’d be willing to take one off your hands.
Abigail: I’ve got a lot of science to do, I want to get this messy shit out of my system while the opportunity is there.
Nick: I’ll allow it.
Nick: Are the… archetypes… gonna have your memories?
Nick: And your… skills?
Nick: Is there a waitlist I can sign up on?
Theresa: Hahaha YOU’RE still alive?!
Wren: She’s a famous blogger?
Theresa: THOSE don’t exist!
Nick: So if you’re making a Romance Sim…
Abigail: I’ve finely-tuned her biology. She’ll be the ultimate sex-haver.
Nick: God, I hope I have some jism left.
Abigail: Alright, that’s enough about your jism.
Abigail: I’m gonna need you to press some buttons for me. There will be prompts.
Nick: If you can program prompts, why can’t you program without button presses?
Abigail: I can, but right now the procreation system requires two partner inputs. I’m working on it.
Abigail: Capacitive learning net molecules…
Abigail: Not that she’ll have much to learn, being a clone of someone who knows literally everything which is known, but hey, you never know! Because you’re not me.
Nick: I kinda want to fuck you again.
Abigail: You have my sympathies.
Theresa: How come you’re not an adult yet?
Wren: I’d have to either go to university or decide not to, and neither the Maker nor I am ready for that level of becoming-a-character, frankly.
Theresa: What do you want to do when you grow up?
Wren: …stop talking to me.
Theresa: Don’t step in the inexplicable chocolate!
Theresa: YOU’LL DIE
Wren: Am I being haunted?
Wren: At midday?
Abigail: I’m weak.
Abigail: I’ll try not to pass that on to my sisterchildren.
Theresa: I dunno, it’s like… Alvin made me so mad, and now I’m dating him. I feel like I had a psychotic break somewhere in there.
Wren: Except you’re describing ninety-nine percent of relationships.
Abigail: Keep that thing stowed from now on, we’re burning pics here.
Nick: Also hot tubs?
Abigail: Chemistry modules. For the chemistry system.
Abigail: Okay, so. I’m gonna scan myself in the Creation Chamber.
Nick: Can I get a copy when it’s done?
Abigail: Once I’ve scanned myself and all the items are atomized, the computers will 3D-print a variant of me, re-jiggered to be the ultimate expression of the Romance Sim archetype.
Nick: You shouldn’t talk her up so much, it’ll give her a complex.
Abigail: Follow the checklist as it appears on-screen. Don’t fuck it up, or no further fucks for you.
Nick: Ooh, high stakes!
Abigail: This is very important to me.
Nick: I’m flattered to be included!
Abigail: No, I mean, if you make a mistake, I’m going to annihilate you.
Abigail: We clear?
Nick: Death threats and I are extremely compatible.
Abigail: You’ll get to fuck her, I guarantee that.
Abigail: Everyone will.
Theresa: I’m afraid Alvin’s gonna cheat on me eventually, and I’ll have to kill him.
Wren: You should take more elaborate revenge than that.
Theresa: …you’re right, I’m a secret agent, I have a standard of subtlety to live up to!
Abigail: Raw change particles.
Abigail: Very important for polygon bonding.
Abigail: Who am I explaining this to? None of you understand.
Nick: I can’t see what’s on the emitter right now.
Abigail: Working as intended.
Nick: It says it’s extracting… soul? Memory? Raw actions?
Abigail: Yeah, I… bought a magic moon rock, it’s got all that stuff in.
Abigail: Science thanks you for your sacrifice.
Abigail: He’ll get a new soul if anyone’s stupid enough to bring him back.
You don’t have to explain yourself to me.
I’m one hundred percent in favour of disintegrating Don, do it as many times as you need to.
Abigail: Hit the big purple button.
Nick: It says “Form Scanning.”
Abigail: Yeah, I’m basing her body on the best body available to me, obviously.
Nick: Is she gonna get a sexy suit, too?
Abigail: No. I don’t want to get jealous of my own clone.
Abigail: God, now I’m saying clone. AHAHAHAHAHA.
Nick: It’s that funny to you?
Abigail: No, the scan tickles.
Abigail: Oh wow, it’s like someone’s rubbing single sand grains on my nerve endings in concentric circles.
Nick: “Function Scanning.”
Abigail: The model can’t be animated unless you rig the bones and joints!
Abigail: MY BONES AND JOINTS TICKLE
Nick: What’s this one break down into?
Abigail: I don’t even know, I’m hedging my bets.
Nick: “Feels Scanning.”
Abigail: Does it EVER
Abigail: Maybe I should sell access to this thing. “Young’s Patented Orgasmotron 6000.”
Abigail: ‘cuz I’m orgasming right now.
Nick: Two just popped up at once. “Faculty Scanning” and “Fractal Scanning.” The messages are overlaid on each other, it looks really ugly.
Abigail: Okay, that’s a glitch. It probably won’t hurt anything.
Nick: Always a comforting thing to hear from a mad scientist.
Nick: Alright, I think… yes. It’s done.
Abigail: Awesome! I can clean my pants now.
Nick: Actually it says the scanning system did that for you.
Abigail: Yes, thank you for ruining the joke.
Abigail: And for not ruining the experiment.
Abigail: Are you ready to witness the least-icky birth of all time?
Nick: Wow, I can’t even click the wrong buttons.
Abigail: Why are you trying to?
Nick: Because I need to know if I can before it’s important that I don’t.
Abigail: Modelling sequence activated.
Abigail: Render matrix online.
Abigail: Texture rays functioning.
Abigail: Ideation protocols are set.
Abigail: Calling Create-a-Sim protocols… now.
Abigail: Begin sequence.
Nick: It says “Inversions detected: eleven percent.” With the numbers written out as words, just like that.
Abigail: Yeah, I like words. And it’s okay; some aesthetic variables are inverted by the copying method I chose. It’s a tradeoff between-
Nick: Don’t feel you need to explain if I don’t need to know.
Nick: I wonder if this one will be a bitch, too?
Abigail: She’s loading into memory now…
Abigail: We have form!
Abigail: We have function!
Abigail: We have FACULTIES!
Abigail: We have a temporary blackout across the Vale as I eat up literally all of the available electricity.
Nick: I CAN FEEL MY PUBES POKING STRAIGHT THROUGH MY JEANS
Abigail: I’VE GOT HAIRS ON FIRE I DIDN’T KNOW I HAD
Abigail: Which is weird, because I should know about all my hairs, having just scanned them.
Nick: The systems are shutting down, one by one!
Abigail: They’re supposed to, they’re done.
Nick: Then you shouldn’t have had it throw up ERROR MESSAGES, it FREAKED ME OUT.
Abigail: Okay… slight abnormalities in reality, but they’re self-correcting.
Nick: Abnormalities in reality? Like what?!
Abigail: Like that mirror behind me reflecting things that aren’t there, for one…
Nick: Yeah, that’s unpleasant.
Abigail: Let’s go pop the mold.
Nick: Is the chamber safe?
Abigail: In all respects except that it contains a being which has never existed before today.
Abigail: So no, it’s very much not safe.
Nick: She’s a clone of you! How dangerous can she be?
Abigail: Wrong me, and find out!
Abigail: I can’t bear to look.
Abigail: …I can’t look away.
Abigail: Good afternoon, Beatriz.
Next time: it’s a girl! It’s very much a girl.
This chapter depicts gameplay from 24 June 2012.