Welcome to the Quiet Legacy, where you bring the popcorn and we bring the crazy!
Warning: this journal may contain uncensored nudity, violence, profanity and sexual themes.
And snow. Lots and lots of snow.
The following is a walls-up, balls-out, completely nonsensical third-person Legacy.
Wham, bam, you’re welcome ma’am.
I’ll be going into rules, and handicaps, and things of that nature later, but first I think we’d better head up to the Legacy Lot. It’s… kinda far away.
In the far northern wastelands of SimCanada, deep in the arctic tundra of NooNooBoo Province, you’ll find the frigid ice roads. That’s a frigid ice road truck, presumably with a frigid ice road trucker inside. We’re not sure if he’s got a TV show yet.
He’s taking us to the territorial capital, beyond the outlying towns of Balcony and Poison Hat. That’s it up ahead. Keep your mouth shut, and maybe he won’t rape us before we get there. You know how those frigid ice road truckers are.
Feast your eyes on the jewel of the north, Red Moose! It’s the only kind of moose you’ll see around here. They had to shoot all the real ones to build the town.
Moose are jerks anyway.
We’ll be going the rest of the way by helicopter. Truckers have this thing about driving into the ocean, you see.
Pussies, I say.
Alright, in you go! And don’t turn around, I’m not ready for the reveal yet.
Don’t forget the cat.
I’m amazed the downdraft doesn’t blow those huts over.
And kind of disappointed. Government officials live in them.
Take a good, long look. Where we’re going, there aren’t a lot of return flights.
Or octagonal roofs.
Will you miss the octagonal roofs?
Down the mountain pass, into the coastal valley. It cost the Ministry of Transportation a million bucks extra to get the road all wavy like that, but isn’t it picturesque?
Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.
You know, they used to bring new arrivals through here with airplanes instead of helicopters.
They stopped a while back, for some reason.
As the valley opens out to the sea, we pass the quaint little port town of Cold Harbour. They don’t recommend swimming in the harbour.
I hear it’s not warm.
From here, SimCanadian transport ships carry good solid SimCanadian bricks through the arctic passage to the SUSSSSSR, the SimUnion of SimSoviet SimSocialist SimRepublics. They use a lot of bricks over there.
Presumably for making prisons.
Big on prisons, those SimCommunists.
Let’s slip the pilot a twenty and see if he’ll take us by the scenic route. You’ll wish you were back on the helicopter soon enough, when you see where we’re going.
Ah, modernist architecture; where subtlety goes to die. Shiver Island University! They have a better enrolment rate than you’d think. Sure, their faculty is incompetent. Sure, their athletics program is abysmal. Sure, their average GPA is a full two points below the national standard. But they’re tops where it counts.
They’re the farthest just about any potential student can get from their parents.
We are now flying over the vast icy expanse of the SimArctic SimOcean.
This would be a bad time to decide you need to use the bathroom.
Aha! Here we are. Our destination approaches, so we’d better gain some altitude.
It’s kinda tall.
At the peak of Chill Mountain is the tiny village of Silence, the highest community in the SimNation!
The elevation is pretty extreme, too.
We’ll be landing near that big empty field right on the edge of a fifteen thousand-foot drop.
Unless you’d rather turn back.
Please say you’d rather turn back.
You know, for a village you can only reach by helicopter, this place sure does have a lot of helicopter impalers.
If you think this is a lot of effort to go to just to visit a desolate mountain in the middle of the ocean, you should see how they get the snowplow up here every day.
Alright, we’re almost past the point of no return now. The pilot has strict orders to shoot us if we try to get back on the ‘chopper.
Meet Archemetus L.L.F. Quiet, the proud owner of a huge empty lot on the edge of a snow-slick precipice of coldness. His name’s a bit unwieldy, so I think we’ll call him Archey instead.
Archey: I wish you wouldn’t abbreviate my name. The government won’t let you have those letters back, you know.
Yeah, I should probably tell you guys. Archey’s a bit of a… wait. What did you do to your nose, dude?
Archey: It got slammed in the helicopter door.
What? Just now? I didn’t see that.
Archey: No, a few minutes ago, over the ocean. When I tried to jump out, and the pilot stopped me.
Archey: I’ve had enough of this government propaganda about “gravity”!
Anyway, yeah. Archey’s here to secure SimCanada’s legal claim to Chill Mountain.
Archey: It only hurts when my nose is running, but now my nose is running all the time!
ANYWAY YEAH, apparently the SimNation won’t recognize SimCanada’s territorial rights to the valuable northern brick shipping lanes unless they have a legitimate Legacy household up here.
Archey: That’s just the official story. They’re really preparing this place as an alien landing site, and they don’t want the SimNationals to know because they’re so bad with strangers.
Archey is a Family Sim with a Secondary Aspiration of Knowledge. His Lifetime Want is to Have 6 Grandchildren (a good solid Legacy-style LTW), his Turn-Ons are Fitness and Makeup, his Turn-Off is Stink, and his One True Hobby has yet to be determined.
Archey: Just ask the government. I’m sure they’ve got a file on it.
Personality-wise, he’s fastidiously Neat (10/10), irrepressibly Active (10/10) and halfway Nice (5/10). If you want Outgoing and Playful, you want… someone else entirely.
Archey: Can we get on with this? I want to go be grumpy by myself now.
What about the handicaps? I’ve taken a lot of handicaps, so you are some seriously fucked-up.
Archey: It’ll all come out in the wash. Now move it! Back to the damn mountain.
Archey: So, it’s actually really cold on this damn mountain.
I would imagine.
Archey: And we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere.
In an almost literal sense, yes.
Archey: So maybe we should take our chances with the helicopter pilot.
Wait a minute. That framing narrative thing is over. I’m not getting shot. Who’s “we”?
Timor: .oO(YOU SAW NOTHING.)
Right, I almost forgot. This is Archey’s cat, Timor. He’s a Hibernian Fearball. They live in cold places, and are afraid of things.
Timor: .oO(Including cold places.)
Archey: Wow. What an amazing view!
I suppose that’s one way to put it.
Archey: Timor’s going to love it here. Especially when the Illuminati unleash their underground nuclear arsenal and it’s the only extremity of civilization that survives.
Oh, when’s that happening?
Archey: Next Thursday, I think. I’ll have to check my notes.
Archey: Preferably indoors.
Timor: .oO(Indoors would be nice.)
Archey: Guess I’d better check out the lay of the land!
Let me help you with that: it’s flat, and it’s covered with snow.
Archey: Then maybe we’d better head into town and get our bearings!
There are three buildings, and two of them are bunkhouses.
Archey: Well MAYBE EXCUSE ME FOR BREATHING.
Timor: .oO(Maybe excuse you from breathimfffGGGBL DUDE WATCH WHERE YOU’RE WALKING)
Timor: .oO(This is bullshit.)
You’re pretty angry. Aren’t you supposed to be scared instead?
Timor: You can’t have fear without loathing.
Archey: Keep close, Timor! There’s probably wolves around.
Timor: .oO(Wolves with mountain climbing equipment, I don’t doubt.)
Archey: Well, here we are, Timor! Just think! All this unspoiled land is ours!
Timor: .oO(Unless it’s got a hidden underground mansion that I can’t see, you’re about to lose blood.)
Timor: .oO(Prepare to die!)
Archey: Aw, is widdle Timor cold? Does widdle Timor want a hug?
Timor: .oO(No, widdle Timor wants to FUCK THE LAWS OF PHYSICS.)
Archey: Timor! I didn’t know you were an agent for Spetsnaz! BUT I SHOULD HAVE.
Archey: No way am I touching that.
Haven’t had your tetanus shots?
Archey: Are you kidding?! I’m not taking part in the pre-invasion campaign to soften up SimEarth for the Tetanites!
Archey: So, what do you say? Think we can make it here?
Timor: You know what I think? I THINK THERE’S SOMETHING FOLLOWING US.
Timor: .oO(WHAT is THAT?!)
Archey: THAT is your ASS.
Timor: .oO(Well it better STOP!)
Timor: .oO(WHAT is THAT?!)
Archey: THAT is a GARBAGE CAN.
Timor: .oO(What do you call this chamber of horrors?!)
We begin. Santa help us all.
(They worship Santa up here. They’re Santa worshippers. It’s a SimCanadian thing.)
Archey: So far this is exceeding my expectations.
Archey: But I think the next step is pretty obvious.
Timor: .oO(You’re going to throw yourself off the cliff?)
Archey: Ooh, here comes another one of my headaches. I thought there wasn’t any cell phone radiation up here!
I bet it’s the Zionist Occupatonal Government, trying to throw you off your game.
Archey: You’re laughing now, but just wait until it’s illegal to eat bagels on Passover.
Archey: Right! This looks like a good spot!
How can you tell? This is just a big honking field of snow. All spots look the same to me.
Archey: That’s just government-ingrained spot racism. Most urbanites have it.
Archey: Oh boy, oh boy, I’ve been looking forward to this all my life!
Oh. You are going to throw yourself off the cliff.
Archey: VOILA! What do you think?
I think… it’s a lemon tree.
Archey: I know, right?! Isn’t it great?!
Archey: Well, of course it’s dormant. It’s off-season, isn’t it?
You’re in the middle of the arctic circle! There’s only one season, and it’s the off-season!
Archey: Hey, patience is a virtue.
Timor: .oO(What about stupidity? Is stupidity a virtue, too?)
So? What next?
Archey: I’m tapped.
Well, as much fun as it would be to watch your frozen corpse get eaten by mountain-climbing wolves, I guess I’d better take over.
Head into “town.”
Archey: You’re not gonna make me socialize, are you?
Timor: .oO(Because that would be a terrible thing to do to these blameless, innocent people.)
They’re tough, they can take it. I’ve got some great townies lined up for this Legacy!
Like… Kim Burton.
What? No. Try again.
You think you’re funny, game, but you’re not.
Come on! Cut it out!
…perfect. Now you’ve got it dialled in.
But kill that dude anyway, he’s ugly.
Just down the hill is the Frozen Mug, where people sip from hot mugs to unfreeze their frozen mugs. By which I mean their faces. Okay, that’s confusing. It’s a stupid name. But they’ve already got the sign printed up and everything, so.
Not gonna read the sign?
Archey: This is the only shop in town. If I need something they don’t have, I guess I’m just gonna die.
Archey: Terrific! They have antisocial pursuits here! I’m awesome at those!
Archey: So awesome.
Jarred Heath: Hey hey! Jarred the bugging-you master Heath is in the hizzouse!
Archey: I might need to reconsider that whole “jumping off a cliff” thing.
Jarred: Hey hey! Foxy lady at door o’clock!
Archey: He didn’t even look at the clock!
Jenna Shepard: Hi, Jarred. Who’s your friend?
Jarred: Hey hey! This is Chess Guy. Chesserton. Chess Chesserton. He’s new.
Archey: And thinking of staying that way.
Leslie Harman: Hi everybody! Sorry I’m late, I was just brushing my flowing golden locks and lost track of time!
Jarred: You’re gonna ditch me now, right.
Archey: Like a dead hooker.
Archey: Oh, there you are. What kept you?
Timor: .oO(I’m a cat. If we’re ever occupying the same space, it’s merely coincidental.)
Archey: Well anyway, I’m going downstairs. I’ll leave you with all of these perfect strangers. Don’t go getting yourself stolen.
Timor: .oO(Your concern is palpable.)
Archey: Woof, this place is a dive.
I think it has a certain rustic charm.
Archey: I keep forgetting you’re a pleb.
Archey: Okay. Okay! I can do this.
Leslie: What can you do?
Archey: Hold internal monologues. But apparently not.
Archey: Pleased to meet you. Archemetus L.L.F. Quiet.
Leslie: What’s the L.L.F. stand for?
Archey: Little Lord Fauntleroy. And I don’t want to talk about it.
Archey: Especially with someone who gets her clothes from a thrift store.
Hey, it’s our first Handicap: “Well-Dressed Sims.” Archey’s had a sartorial sense beaten into him from an early age, so he places a somewhat unusual value on having the right clothes. Every Sim in his household needs their own personal dresser, and their own full set of clothing in all ages from Toddler to Elder. If anyone moves in, they need to buy their Elder set before… well, before they need to start wearing it.
Archey and his heirs need 10 Interest in Fashion or max enthusiasm in the Arts and Crafts hobby before aging into Elders, just to make sure that this is a fate worse than death.
Archey: The bartender’s kinda cute! Maybe if I chat her up, she won’t add the government-mandated mind control serum to my drink.
Archey: Hi! I would like to purchase an alcoholic beverage!
Lillian North: Got one in mind?
Archey: I have absolutely none of them in my mind, thank you very much, and I’d like to keep it that way!
Lillian: I don’t know what it is about being on a mountain in the middle of the ocean that attracts all these crazies.
Archey: So yeah, nice to make your acquaintance! Although you haven’t given me your name. Which is good, because then I don’t have to give you mine, and we won’t have psychic power over each other.
Lillian: You keep putting your hand through that candle. Your sleeve is smoking.
Archey: No, it’s okay. This is a smoking jacket.
Archey: Did you get that? That was a joke! I think she liked it!
Brittany Jennings: She just dropped the candle in your drink.
Archey: True love, I’m telling you!
Archey: The wax adds a certain sweetness to it.
Jamison Kravitz: You have no idea what you’re doing, do you.
Jarred: Sure I do! I’m pissing everyone off!
Sebastian Holt: Random stranger hug?
Leandros Hale: Not so much!
Archey: Hey! That sounds like such a good idea!
Come on! You’ve only had one drink!
Archey: Yeah, but I’ve also got wicked jet lag, and vertigo. And also I’m crazy. Or hadn’t you noticed?
Honestly, I’ve been distracted a lot lately.
Archey: Hey Leslie! We’re strangers, right?
Leslie: Some of us more than others!
Archey: So how about some inappropriate touching? I hear that’s how you eskimo-people say hello!
Leslie: No, that’s how we say “I wish to speak to a police officer.” And we’re not eskimoes. And that’s an offensive word.
Archey: Are you always so negative?
Lillian: Oh ho! Freakazoid got shut down!
Archey: Strategic retreat!
Leandros: What do you want us to do with your cat?
Archey: Don’t care!
Archey: I should have known!
You should have known what?
Archey: That she was a rogue Star Sapphire, using her powers of love for evil!
That’s… that’s from comic books, Archey. They’re not real.
Archey: No, stupid, they’re how the underground resistance communicates to the faithful! Sure, a lot of little kids are getting weird encoded messages and shooting up their schools, but that’s a small price to pay for learning how fluoride impairs your capacity for empathy!
I though it let people control your mind.
Archey: Don’t be so dense. That’s Tang.
Archey: Heyyyy. Speaking of tang…
Alyssa Hewitt: Wow. This promises to be memorable, at least.
Archey: Any advice on how not to screw this up?
Alyssa: Who are you talking to?
Archey: God. He’s looking over your shoulder.
Alyssa: Isn’t he always.
Archey: No, seriously! You have no idea. The entire social world is just a conspiracy by kleptomaniacal aliens to steal our adrenaline glands!
Alyssa: Alyssa Hewitt, confused but intrigued. What’s that got to do with invisible sky people?
Archey: Archemetus L.L.F. Quiet. The invisible sky-person is their ringleader! He controls everything from on high, like some evil invisible puppet master of even more evil!
Alyssa: Wow. How did you get to be so paranoid?
One time, when he was a kid, he caught his mom fucking an alien burglar.
Archey: He said he got his cosmic rod stuck in her uterus, and they were trying to get it out.
Archey: Hey! Come back! I have lots more stories about my screwed-up childhood! Let’s go back to my place and you can cuddle me like a baby and I can tell you about how clouds are actually cloaked alien spaceships from the past! Sweetcheeks!
Archey: Was it something I said?
Handicap: “Paranoid.” When they say “it’s always the quiet ones,” they’re talking about Archemetus Quiet. In fact, they’re ALWAYS talking about him. And he hears them. Oh yes. He hears them…
As a result of his paranoia, Archey demands a burglar alarm in every room, an alarm in every car, no visitors on the lot when he’s sleeping, no adoptions, no housemates who aren’t relatives or spouses, no living in dorms, and all radios tuned to Coast-to-Coast.
He and his heirs will also need to max the Sci-Fi Interest or the Science hobby before becoming Elders.
Jamison: What is it doing?
Sebastian: I have no idea.
Sebastian: But I’m not gonna be here when it finishes.
Sebastian: Random stranger hug?
Leslie: Of course! Why not?!
Timor: .oO(FEARBALL TO THE CROTCH, MOUTH-BREATHER!)
Archey: Well. That was a total waste of my time.
You don’t age on community lots. Basically time doesn’t pass at all.
Archey: Yes. It felt that way.
Timor: .oO(Come back here! I wanna show you what I did to that chair.)
Archey: Oh, crap. I forgot the cat.
It would be more understandable if you owned, say, more than one thing. Timor being the one thing that you own.
Archey: In my defense, he’s also the worst thing that I own.
Gregory Greene: Did somebody lose a cat?
Timor: .oO(No. That’s impossible. Nobody can “lose” a cat. Cats lose people. And in this case I’m not sure I want to find him again.)
Archey: I’d better set up a place to sleep. Maybe Timor will see it and find his way back.
You have §4800. Any house you can build with that will be more likely to scare him off again.
Archey: I dunno, it’s got some attaction.
It would look very attractive to personal injury lawyers, that’s for sure.
Archey: I should set out some cat food. He can’t resist the smell of cat food.
Would that be because you keep forgetting to feed him?
Archey: NO. HE’S NATURALLY SMALL-BONED, OKAY?
What are you doing?
…oh. I see.
Archey: If that’s not appealing, I don’t know what is!
Gregory: Haha! Nice kitty! Are you coming home with me? Haha!
Archey: Timor! There you are! I knew you’d come back!
Timor: .oO(SHIT. I take it back. I am lost.)
Gregory: Hi! I’m Gregory. And you must be Mr. Quiet!
Archey: NPC LEAVES NOW.
Archey: Come on, come on… it has to be in here somewhere.
Archey: Aha! There we go.
You know… there are some places people just weren’t meant to inhabit.
Timor: .oO(This snow tastes like cat food.)
Why so glum, gorgeous?
Lara Riley: I’m in charge of the local garden club.
Oh. Oh shit. I’m so sorry.
Archey: I’d better put it back where I found it, in case anyone else wants to read it.
Archey: What’re you doing way back there?
You talking to me, or her?
I’m getting a wide shot. It looks more dramatic.
Archey: For what reason? You don’t think I’m gonna date that chick or anything, do you? ‘cuz that wolf won’t mountain-climb.
Archey: Archemetus L.L.F. Quiet. What are you doing on my property?
Lara: Lara Riley. I always visit new arrivals. Why’s there a huge band-aid on your nose?
Archey: It was a gift from the Dalai Lama.
Archey: And you are a gift from god.
Archey: Where’s she going?
Probably into your “house.”
Archey: Well, it was a good relationship while it lasted.
Lara: Seriously? This is it? You’re gonna freeze to death in a week, living here.
Archey: Oh, I dunno. It’s not so bad. The cold slows down the aging process the government induces to keep population levels low.
Archey: And anyway I don’t see what the big deal is. Lots of people have grass floors.
Lara: Yeah, in AFRICA. Where your feet won’t get frozen to the permafrost if you get out of bed with no boots on!
Lara: You seriously need a woman’s touch around here. I could hook you up with the members of my garden club.
Archey: I KNEW IT! She’s an NPC. Get her out of my house!
Archey: Fine, looks like the sky fairy isn’t taking requests today. Get on with it then, bitch! I know you’re here to steal all my clothes and my dormant lemon tree and my dignity, you pastel-coloured harlot!
Lara: What? What’ve you got against NPCs?
Timor: .oO(Here we go again…)
One time, when he was a toddler, he caught his mom blowing the gardener.
Archey: He said he got his garden hose stuck in her mouth, and they were trying to get it out.
Archey: And he didn’t even have a garden hose. He was using a watering can.
Handicap: “Do It Yourself.” Archey has an axe to grind with Service and Delivery NPCs, and as a result he refuses to hire any of them. They can still be married into the household, however. While we’re at it, how about no robots, and no Influencing people to do service-related tasks, too. Just to make it that much more annoying and difficult.
To top it all off, Archey and his heirs each need to reach 10 Interest in Work, or max enthusiasm in Tinkering before Elderhood.
Lara: Okay… well… that’s pretty messed up, I won’t lie. But still, sometimes you have to take a chance on people. Just because they keep fucking your mom, doesn’t mean they’re all gonna fuck your mom!
Archey: I’m not!
Well too damn bad, I’m captain of this sinking ship.
Archey: It’s more of an iceberg.
Archey: I hope you understand that I’m doing this against my will.
Lara: What a promising introduction.
Archey: Baby, you’re hot hot!
That would have sounded better as “hot hot hot!“
Archey: Yeah, but we’ve only got two bolts of chemistry, not three.
Lara: That’s very sweet of you to say, Archemetus. Because it’s you, and I can tell you’re socially retarded. It would be offensive coming from anyone else.
Archey: She’s already making concessions for my personality!
It’s a match made in heaven! Or just a few kilometres below heaven, anyway.
Archey: Alright, we’ve got the preliminaries over with. How’s about you and I give the cameraman some breathing space and get out of this airtight toolshed?
YES. HOW’S ABOUT WE DO THAT.
Lara: Sounds good to me! It’s a date!
Archey: But you can’t move in unless we get three bolts of chemistry.
Lara: Um, okay? Setting your sights a bit high, are we?
Archey: I’m not just gonna lie down with any old garden club member who opens her legs for me!
Lara: Why are you so pessimistic about love?
One time, when he was a teenager, he caught his dad fucking the maid.
Archey: He said he was telling her the story about the alien burglar.
Archey: In between gasps and grunts, no doubt.
Handicap: “True Love.” Thanks to his incredibly awful family, Archey takes an idealistic view on relationships: he won’t have children with anyone he isn’t completely gaga over.
Handicap: “Strict Family Values.” After years of walking in on his parents banging other people, Archey has developed a rather skewed perspective on sex. He thinks unmarried Sims should not WooHoo, and married Sims should only be WooHooing to produce children. Because he’s a lonely only.
Archey: Are you gonna be okay if we go out for a bit?
Archey: Because we’re gonna go out for a bit.
Archey: We’re gonna go out and hug and kiss and dance and have fun!
Lara: You mind including me in some of those decisions?
Archey: EXCUSE ME. I am TALKING to my CAT, okay?
Lara: So, where we heading?
Archey: I hear there’s good food at the truck stop in Cold Harbour.
Lara: You’re taking me to a truck stop for our first date? How romantic!
Archey: It’s either the truck stop or the dockyards, and I don’t know how you feel about gang rape so I figured, what the hell, let’s go with the truck stop.
Lara: When you put it that way, it’s hard to fault your logic.
Archey: Come on, let’s get moving! The helicopter is heading back to the mainland for supplies in a few minutes.
Archey: …and it’s in the other direction.
Archey: I’ll pretend it’s her fault, and I was… reverse-following her!
Timor: .oO(They’re both going to die.)
Eventually! But that’s a debacle for another day. Next time: can love bloom in the frigid north? Only weird, ugly, twisted love, hardened and adapted to the unforgiving tundra wastelands.
I do have a life, you know.
Such as it is.