The Stewarts Family (and other shenanigans)
Sims player fourteen generation deep into a legacy. Here's their story! Also, art and builds.
And here we are… the Windenburg Museum. Used to be my favorite place in the world, and even now, sick with anxiety, I have to stop and marvel at its beauty under the layer of snow the blizzard has left behind. It’s still snowing, but here in Windenburg, the snow is now delicate, soft, magical.
For a minute I forget all about being anxious and everything is perfect again. How can you not feel at peace in such a landscape?
I end up shutting down the computer, and slamming the office door behind me. Wholly fed up with office politics, I’m looking for a way to cool down… And I find it really easily. I’m going to cool waaaaaay down.
It’s a winter wonderland outside. The decorative trees in our backyard are glowing faintly in the late morning light, and somehow, even though it’s very cold, the sun is shining bright on the coat of snow.
And the pool… The pool is shimmering, the bluest blue I’ve ever seen it. Inviting. I dip a foot in it, to check… Not so much checking the temperature as my ability to withstand it… And then I fully immerse myself.
It takes me a few lengths to decide I swam enough and I want to wrap myself in warm clothes, but these lengths were more than enough to clear my head. I feel cleansed and relaxed, and I breathe better, in more ways than one.
When you’ve perfectly coordinated your Spooky Day outfit with your husband, you’re going to want to take fifteen billion selfies, no matter how much your kids snicker at you.
I have to admit they look cute.
Nounou and I had a bit of a fright, and he must have been feeling terrible these last few days. I think we both deserve a break by the beach. The day is cloudy, and soon enough it starts to rain — but the air is fresh, invigorating, and infused with iodine. And it’s been so long since I’ve walked in the sand, even though I have to walk in boots and jump around cold puddles.
And then there’s the sound of the seagulls. It soothes me.
At least until I see Nounou, fully healed and absolutely not soothed by the sound of birds, running past me like a grey rocket. He leaps at them, then when they fly away in a terrified formation, struts back to me with feathers in his mouth.
Thanks, Nounou. Much appreciated.
I mean, I’m glad he’s feeling better at least.
I was tagged by the lovely @justsimroarks to list 5 facts about my favorite sim about a forever ago, so I’m finally getting to it! Thank you for this, I had a lot of fun coming up with them, and then I chose to take a trip down memory lane to illustrate the facts and it was great ❤
Well at the moment my favorite sim is Hannah, but since Naomi, her great-grandmother, is the one sim I spent the most time playing with (over a year), and is overall probably the one I’ve been the most attached to, here are five facts about Naomi! With pretty screenshots, because c’mon.
I hope you enjoy it!
1. Naomi has been married twice. Both husbands have left her widowed when they died of old age. What can I say, Naomi’s lived a long life.
2. Naomi has mastered over twenty skills, including painting, her lifelong passion, but also rocket science.
3. Naomi had a hand in raising her four younger siblings, her own four children, and her first grandson, after her teenage son’s girlfriend got pregnant. Naomi is THE mother figure in my game.
4. Naomi never really got over the death of her older brother Hunter. She was the “big sister” and the mother figure for literally everybody else in her life, but he was her big brother, and they were best friends. He died of old age, but when he died she lost the one person she felt the closest to in the world. At least until Miranda and Azalea.
5. I gave Naomi her signature green dress from @aharris00britney the very day she aged up into a teen. I thought it was a bit too short for her once she became an elder so I added some shorts underneath, but this dress is very much her. Every other outfit has changed at some point, but she’s keeping that dress until the day she dies.
I feel like I get better and better treasure every time I come down here!
I’m deep into the temple now. The air is colder, still, silent. The sound of my pen running on the clipboard resonates and echoes on the old stones. That, and my own breathing.
It’s actually soothing.
It’s also the best atmosphere to concentrate.
Although of course… If you pay attention you will also hear the crackling from the gate I’m trying to go through. It’s an electricity trap, and its sound is ominous, reminding me that one go through it would be the end of any and all adventuring.
But I’m going through it. I have a treasure to discover.
Every time I activate a mechanism, before I even know if I was wrong or right, my heart speeds up. It’s a dizzying, addictive feeling.
This time I got it wrong. But something’s about to cheer me up.
My brother and sister braved their distaste for jungle trekking to join me! On their own!
It means even more to me than what they could possibly guess. I am overjoyed to end this bout of exploration digging around with my little sister.
I leave the twins to enjoy the Selvadoradan culture… from afar. When I hug them bye, Cléo is trying to teach Cyril to move his hips to latin music. It was heartbreaking to walk away from how cute that was, but I’m sure Sara will take a video.
So it’s on my own that I go back to the temple. It’s easy when it’s just me, and fast. I practically know the way by heart, now.
And the dangers of the temple don’t scare me anymore.
I approach the mysteries and puzzles with confidence…
Even if I still get it wrong sometimes.
Thankfully, no curse this time. Just a cloud of bone dust blown over my face. It’s sort of yucky, but at least it’s not poison.
I really should remember to pack more interesting meals one of these days.
Here’s the hall at the end of the dark corridor. I dropped a few lamps to help me navigate in the darkness, and it gives the place a warm, but eerie look. The yellow light bounces from golden statues to cryptic omiscan murals, and then back to the shiny blue of another lapis skeleton.
I’ve often admired the solemnness of the ancient temple and the beauty in the sturdy, ancient architecture, but rarely have I felt dwarfed by a room like I am now. I feel like a speck in History, a curious individual who has no impact on the grandiosity of the past, and cannot begin to grasp any of it anyway.
I stare the blue skeleton down. The way its scales reflect the light is hypnotizing. It looks so — dare I say — life-like. I have to admit part of the reason I examine it so thoroughly is I half-expect it to lift an arm to shake my hand. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.
I don’t trust you buddy. You’re a work of art, but I don’t trust you.
Once I’m fairly sure I won’t be jumspcared by a stone skeleton armed with a spear, I finally start examining the mechanisms around the little room.
Probably still distracted by the hollow gaze of the blue skleton, I make a mistake — a potentially fatal mistake.
I pulled the wrong lever, and now my life only depends on one thing: the quality of my reflexes.
The Stewarts Family (and other shenanigans) 