JUST WHAT ARE YOU ACCUSING ME OF?The White Legacy:

Generation One, Chapter Three

Welcome back to the White Legacy!

Last time, Snow and Patrick went on their long-anticipated honeymoon to Takemizu Village, during which they discovered Snow was pregnant with the couple’s second child. Notoro was born soon after returning to Riverblossom Hills. Bal, their firstborn, aged up to child and then disappeared from his bed. Notoro became a child, and Snow gave birth to Aral right at the end of the chapter.

Bal: “I’m scared.”

Snow: “Bal, sweetie, it’s okay to be scared sometimes. Just come to Mommy, okay? Mommy will give you a nice, big hug and everything will be okay.”

Bal: “But I’m scared, Mommy.”

Snow: “Sweetie, honey, I know. Mommy’s scared too. But I can’t come to you. You have to come to me, okay?”

Snow: “Just come to Mommy, Bal. Come to Mommy.”

Bal: “I can’t! It’s too far! I’m scared!”

Bal: “I’m scared!”

Patrick: “Is everything alright, ma cherie? All throughout the previous night, you groaned and tossed and turned. It seemed as if you were experiencing a nightmare.”

Snow: “I’m fine.”

Patrick: “You are aware that should you ever need to converse, I am here to listen?”

Snow: “Thank you, Patrick. I love you, too. I should really get ready for work.”

Snow: “I love you, sweetheart. Sweet dreams. I’ll see you when I get home. Don’t worry, Papa will be here until then to look after you.”

Snow: “There’s got to be something I can do about these nightmares. Every night, it’s—huh?”

Snow: “…Bal?”

Toro: “Good morning, Mommy! It’s Saturday! You wanna build a snowman with me? …Why are you getting in bed?”

Snow: “Mommy spent all night helping look for Bal, so I’m kind of tired, Toro. How about we play in the snow this afternoon instead?”

Toro: “O-kay. Goodnight, Mommy.”

Toro: “Stupid Bal.”

Snow: “I love you so much, Arie. Today’s your big birthday, but that doesn’t mean you have to change. You just stay being you.”

Snow: “Patrick, can I talk to you for a second?”

Patrick: “Of course, ma cherie. Anytime you need to speak, I will always be here to listen.”

Snow: “You know that tonight is Arie’s birthday.”

Patrick: “I do.”

Snow: “I was thinking, we need to make sure we’re chipper and happy for her. Everything’s been very sad and tense around here ever since… then, but Arie’s just a baby, and we need to make sure she doesn’t feel the effects too much. For Toro’s sake, as well, even though it isn’t his birthday. He was too young to really remember Bal very much, and he shouldn’t have to live in his shadow, either.”

Patrick: “Then shall we have a birthday?”

Toro: “Wow, balloons! Can I have balloons on my birthday?”

Snow: “Sure thing, honey. But for now, yay! Happy birthday Arie!”

Toro: “Happy birthday Arie!” *toooot toot toot tooooot*

Patrick: “I have returned with our freshly made-over birthday girl!”

Toro: “Why are her pigtails all funny?”

Snow: “What do you mean, Toro?”

Toro: “I mean, some of ‘em are in front of her, and some of ‘em are in back. Why are they doing that?”

Patrick: “That is merely the way her hair lies, Notoro.”

Toro: “Weird.”

Arie: {I wonder what that squishy, spongy stuff is that Mother, Father, and Brother are eating, and why they get to eat it and I have to drink this suspicious, green, sparkly stuff? Ah, well, c’est la vie. Sparkles are a superior food.}

Toro: “Goodnight, Papa! This was SO much fun! It was AWESOME to play with you and Mommy and Arie!”

Patrick: “It was indeed a superior time. Rest well, Toro.”

Snow: “We are such great parents!”

Arie: {I wonder why Mother and Father made a loud sound with their hands, and what those words they said meant? Of course, I am much more interested in this wonderful yellow car than anything my parental units are doing, but the sudden sound did startle me a little.}

Patrick: “Ah, that was a most refreshing slumber. And great Scott! It seems that my beloved wife has already arisen. I must have slept past my customary arising period.”

Patrick: “I am quite sure Snow and the children should like some breakfast. I think I shall adjourn to the kitchen and prepare some pancakes.”

Bal: “Good morning, Papa!”

Patrick: “And a superior morning to you, Baltic. Which book are you currently reading?”

Bal: “The one about the princess and the dwarves. Papa, what does ‘gloom’ mean?”

Patrick: “In which context?”

Bal: “’She ran into the gloom.’ I thought it meant when somebody’s sad, but it wouldn’t make sense for the princess to run into sadness, would it? But I guess it does kinda make sense, since the mean hunter is chasing her.”

Patrick: “It means ‘darkness,’ son. She ran into the forest, and it was exceptionally dark and frightening.”

Bal: “Oh.”

Bal: “Papa, there’s a lot of words here I don’t know. Can you read to me?”

Patrick: “Of course, son.”

Patrick: “Once upon a time, there lived in a far-away land a beautiful princess…”

Patrick: “…but her stepmother, the Queen, was jealous of her, and ordered her huntsman to kill her…”

Bal: “But Papa, I don’t understand. Why would the Queen want to hurt the princess just because she was pretty? Didn’t she love the princess? Why would anyone want to hurt anyone?”

Snow: *groan* “Honey? Are you okay?”

Patrick: “I merely had a small piece of a nightmare, ma cherie. Return to sleep.”

Snow: “I’m here if you need me.”

Patrick: “I know. I love you, as well.”

Toro: “Mom? Papa? Why are we doing this, again?”

Patrick: “Please restrain yourself from speaking, Notoro.”

Toro: “But Arie needs a nap, and she’s being really loud.”

Snow: “Please, Toro. Let’s just have a moment of silence for those of us who can understand.”

Snow: “Happy birthday, Bal. We have to believe that you’re still out there, and if that’s true, you became a teenager today. We hope you’re making all the right choices, no matter where you are. We love you very much.”

Toro: “So, uh, can I take these clothes off now? They’re really itchy.”

I’m impressed.

Snow: “Oh. You.”

Toro: “Hi Author! Long time no see!”

Hey there, sweetie.

Snow: “Don’t you dare talk to my children.”

Are you really still holding a grudge? I’m sorry for everything that’s happened, but I’m not the one to blame here.

Snow: “Oh? Do you know another author in charge of our story?”

Well, no. But seriously, your story is writing itself. I’ve had very little input on the matter. I distanced myself and gave you time to be sad and jerk some tears, but now so help me, I’m getting back in this story.

Snow: “Goodnight, Arie darling. Just ignore the big mean voice. It’ll go away again.”

Not cool, Snow. I even prepared a present for you to help cheer you up. Is that any way to be grateful?

Snow: “…”

Patrick: “…”

I’ve decided that all of the heirs and their spouse will have a couple’s portrait hung in the house, and their individual portrait on the grave wall out back. And see, Snow? You’re wearing a black vampire dress. Don’t you like it? Huh huh huh?

Patrick: “…does all of this denote the Author has returned?”

Snow: “If we ignore her, maybe she’ll just go away.”

*pout*

Patrick: “Snow is merely bitter, Author. She truly is fond of the portrait. We have been married long enough that I am able to tell.”

Thanks, Patrick. What about you?

Patrick: “I? I think it a spot silly, but it is nice enough, I suppose.”

Patrick: “Now then, to business. If you wish to return to Snow’s good graces, I would humbly suggest you not create another traumatic event this generation. I would also propose that you not try to force any humor upon us when we are clearly not currently up to it.”

I’ll try my best, Patrick, on both counts, though I’m not promising anything. As I’ve said a couple times before, your story is really writing itself.

Patrick: “Do not dare to hurt my children any more than you already have.”

Yes, sir.

Snow: “Toro! Come here please!”

Toro: “Ugh, do I HAVE to?”

Patrick: “Do not talk back to your mother, Notoro! Come into the kitchen!”

Toro: “Fine.”

Snow & Patrick: “Surprise!”

Toro: “Whoa! Balloons! Awesome! But it’s not my birthday yet!”

Snow: “We know. Today isn’t your birthday, it’s Toro Day.”

Toro: “Huh?”

Patrick: “We have realized that the last several days has been hard on you, Toro, and you have not received much in the way of recognition. Aral’s birthday comes tomorrow, and before that happens, we desired to spend some time with you alone, just you, your mother, and I.”

Toro: “Wow, awesome! This is better than maxing a skill!”

Patrick: “Come to me and give me a hug, young man.”

Toro: “Fine.”

Snow: “Would you two stop with the male bonding already? I’m hungry, and these pancakes smell fabulous.”

Patrick: “Haha, those pancakes will not wander off your plate if you eat them too slowly, Toro. You may take smaller bites.”

Toro: “Choc’lit chipsh! Theesh pa’caksh r dlishish!”

Toro: “A present, too!? Toro Day is AWESOME!”

Snow: “Don’t stand around talking all day, open it up!”

Toro: “Awesome, a dart board! …but, where am I going to hang it up? Outside?”

Patrick: “We thought you might decide to display and use it within your room, Notoro.”

Toro: “My room? But I share a room with you guys.”

Snow: “We’re going to let you have Bal’s old room, Toro, as long as you don’t mind sharing with Arie after her birthday tomorrow.”

Toro: “My own room? Really? AWESOME! Toro Day is the BEST!”

Snow: “Thanks for moving everything, Author.”

It’s what I’m here for.

Toro: “Cool, so uh, goodnight, Mom, Papa.”

Patrick: “Pleasant dreams, Notoro.”

Snow: “And remember, that door is supposed to stay open at night.”

Toro: “Yes, Mom.”

Snow: “You have to let them grow up eventually. They don’t stay children forever, and you can’t force them to sleep in your bedroom forever, either. Besides, there’s not enough room for both of them. Just because something bad happens once, doesn’t mean it’ll happen again. All the same, the open door so I can hear everything that goes on from my room makes me feel a little better.”

Toro: “Uh, Mom? I’m right here. I can still hear you.”

Snow: “Who’s a birthday girl? Who’s a birthday girl?”

Arie: “Meeeeeeee!”

Snow: “And who made it through his first night in his own room all by himself?”

Toro: “Come on Mom, cut it out.”

Arie: “Aspiwation! Heehee!”

You know, I’m really kind of loving these kids.

And so to the cheers of her entire family (most of whom decided to stand in an inconvenient spot for pictures), Arie kind-of-sort-of blew out the candles on her cake and became a child.

Here she is post-makeover and post-cake. I had planned on taking her birthday close-up while she had her giant slice of cake in front of her, but, uh, that didn’t happen. Remember Toro eating the pancakes? Yeah.

Also, note that Arie is sporting the brand-new braid I just got a couple days ago. I love it.

Snow: “Goodnight, Arie. Sleep well, and keep an eye on your brother. I’ve already told him to keep an eye on you, so between the two of you, you should both be covered. I love you both.”

Snow makes such a sweet mom. I notice that she reserves all her cranky for me.

Snow: “Watch it. Don’t go digging yourself a deeper hole.”

Hey, the deeper I go, the farther away I get from you. (Wow, I’ve missed this whole battle of wits thing!)

Well, this is a night picture of you standing in a bizarre outfit in front of the carpool. You must have done it, Patrick.

Patrick: “Indeed I have.”

Folks, Patrick of the House of White has officially reached the top of the Gamer career and achieved perma-plat, the first one to do so in the legacy! Now that you’ve reached the top, Patrick, what are you going to do next?

Patrick: “I do believe I have an impossible want to achieve. Unless, that is, you have decided to discontinue the inane ‘scoring’ procedure in this legacy.”

Arie: “Well, thanks for the homework help, Mommy. Even though all you really did was stand there with your arms folded and rock back and forth on your heels the whole time.”

Snow: “I’m tired, Arie. Give me a break.”

Arie: “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

That was seriously all she did. I watched the whole homework session, and she never said a word. I guess it’s the appearances of having helped more than the actual help that counts. Kind of like elementary school reading charts.

Snow: “Attention all school-bound children! Front and center!”

Toro: “This is stupid, Mom.”

Snow: “Alright, everyone’s ready for school? Teeth brushed? Backpack packed? Hair brushed—Toro?”

Toro: “Yeeeees.”

Snow: “Alright, now remember, this is Arie’s first day of school. Just because your birthday is this evening doesn’t mean you’re too cool to help her out if she needs it.”

Arie: “I’ll be fine, Mommy. I don’t want Tory running around following me everywhere.”

Toro: “Don’t call me that!”

Arie: “Tory! Tory! Tory!”

Toro: “Hey! No touching, Aral!”

Arie: “My name is Ar-ie, doofus!”

Snow: “Well, I think that’s the bus. You kids have fun. Don’t kill each other.”

Snow has so much faith in her children.

Patrick: “The home sounds rather quiet without the children. I do hope that they do not have gym class together today. Given the opportunity, even in a normally pacific sport, I am quite sure one or the other would not come out alive.”

Snow: “At least they’re both children at the same time for only one day.”

My insane luck with receiving gypsy lamps strikes again. Well, I guess the Whites are getting a bigger and better house sooner than expected.

But before getting down to the money, Snow gets a wish for peace of mind. This way, I don’t have to worry about her stupid lifetime want, and I still get her family aspiration platinum gravestone.

Arie: “Mommy Mommy Mommy Mommy Mommy Mommy!”

Snow: “Haha, heya, Arie. Was there something you wanted?”

Arie: “Just to welcome you home, because I love you, and, uh, don’t go into the kitchen. There’s not a reason for it, but don’t go into the kitchen, okay?”

Snow: “Alright, just what are you planning, Arie?”

Arie: “Nothing!”

Toro: *humming*

Uh… Toro… I wouldn’t go in—

BANG CRASH THUMP RATTLE BANG

Toro: “ARIIIIIIE!!!”

—there.

…Arie, what are you doing?

Arie: “Sitting in the doorway.”

May I ask why?

Arie: “I brought a friend home from school. We’re hanging out. And also because Mommy told me to.”

Are you quite happy, Snow, since you’ve locked yourself outside using your own daughter?

Arie: “Oh, look! It’s snowing! And I’m letting all the pretty snowflakes inside!”

Snow: “Good work, Arie. Whites: 1, Author: nothing.”

Ooh, are we keeping score again?

This is a terrible room for birthdays. It is impossible to get a good picture of everyone celebrating. In fact, the only thing that looks good in this picture is the radio. Hmm… the radio…

Snow: “We got a great deal on these horn noisemaker things! Toot toot toot! Happy birthday, Toro!”

Toro: “Hey, wait a minute! I was promised birthday balloons! Where are my balloons!?”

Right behind you, kid. Now hurry up and make a wish before they pop.

Toro: “Gee, thanks, Author!”

…I honestly can’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not just now.

The sparkles clear up and Toro returns from Belle’s Boutique, and we have our first official teenager of the legacy! *confetti* How does that feel, Toro?

Toro: “I feel like I need a girlfriend.”

Toro rolled Pleasure. Shoulda figured.

No.

Snow: “Just what are you accusing me of?”

NO. Besides, you’re too old.

Snow: “Hmph.”

Arie: “YES! Weather is awesome!”

Toro: “Aaaariiiiiie….”

Arie: “Come on, Mr. Grumpypants. Get out of bed!”

Toro: “Brat.”

Arie: “Doofus.”

Ah, the love between a brother and sister. It’s a beautiful thing.

Arie: “Haha, it looks like you stole Papa’s pajamas!”

Toro: “Arie, you stink. Literally.”

Patrick: “Children, please treat each other with respect. In addition, I do believe that large yellow vehicle that just arrived in front of the house is the schoolbus.”

Toro: “Aw, come on, Pops! Don’t wear that stupid thinking cap in front of my friends!”

Puffy Vest: “Hey man, it’s cool. It kinda makes him look like a robot.”

I see Patrick has gotten started on humiliating his children. That didn’t take long.

Snow: “Oh, hey, I remember this type of picture from when Patrick did it! Does this mean I just reached the top of my career?”

Nope, you spent one too many work days home protecting your children from the mystery that took Bal and now have a bit farther to go in your job. Actually, you just hit the $50,000 mark. Everybody say goodbye to your guests and get yourselves outside!

Arie: “Mommy, why are we all suddenly outside?”

Snow: “I’m sure it’s some kind of silly plot device, honey. I would say not to worry about it, but knowing the Author…”

Shut up and let me work.

Alright, it’s done. Mostly.

Patrick: “If I may ask, what is ‘mostly’ completed?”

Turn around and take a look.

Toro: “Whoa! Mom, Pops, look at this!”

Snow: “…it’s pink.”

Designed for a combination of function and comfort. You’ve got four single bedrooms and two master bedrooms, adding up to a grand total of eight potential sims that can live comfortably here at once. You’ve got two bathrooms—one attached to the nursery, and one a large public-style bathroom with individual shower rooms. And I decorated with you specifically in mind, Snow.

Snow: “Why is it pink?”

Wait till you see your bedroom. I think you’re gonna like it…

Snow: “No.”

Just what are you accusing me of? *snicker*

Snow: “NO.”

Okay, okay, so this isn’t actually your bedroom. This is the spare master bedroom, in case there are ever two couples living here at once (likely to happen).

Snow: “Well, it’s a little better.”

Glad to know you approve. I think that’s as close as you’ve come to gratitude since I’ve known you.

Arie: “Mommy, Mommy, look! There’s a door going outside in your bedroom!”

Toro: “Yeah, but why?”

…I thought it looked cool. Maybe it’s functional too. Yeah.

Arie: “New house! New house! New house! New house!”

Really, Arie? Really?

Snow: “Aral White, you get down from there right now! You know you’re not supposed to jump on beds!”

Arie: “But it’s fun…”

Snow: “NOW, Arie!”

Snow: “Can’t help but notice that this room doesn’t have wallpaper.”

Be thankful it has carpet. Fifty thousand isn’t exactly a gold mine to draw a mansion out of, you know.

Patrick: “…and so I hereby propose that all fortune tellers, palm readers, and gypsy matchmakers be banned for perpetual crimes against the State of Sim, for their continued disrespect for their clients, for their exorbitant prices, and for their complete and utter incompetence in their chosen careers.”

Arie, just where do you think you’re going with that homework?

Arie: “Uh… nowhere?”

You sit down and finish it.

Arie: “You’re not my mother, Author!”

Nope, I’m only the guiding force of your life. Finish it!

Toro: “What, my room’s not important enough to warrant wallpaper?”

‘Fraid not.

Toro: “Thanks for nothing, Author. My life sucks.”

Toro: “We might always be at each other’s throats when we’re awake, but I love you a lot, Arie. And I’ll kill you if you’re only pretending to be asleep and going to use this to blackmail me in the future.”

I love these “tuck-in” interactions. Wish I could direct them to happen.

Okay, you two, it’s Saturday. Stop being cute and get to skilling so we can get you lots of scholarships for school.

Arie: “We, uh, weren’t playing and having fun together or anything! He’s a doofus!”

Of course. Get to work.

I said to get to work, Arie, not to get to burping in the microphone.

Arie: “That wasn’t supposed to be a joke, was it? ‘Cause it was dumb.”

No, as a matter of fact, it wasn’t.

Arie: “There, I’ve maxed charisma now. Happy?”

Yes, in fact, I am. I think those charisma points will serve you well in your future.

Arie: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Aw, they’re so cute when they’re asleep… alright, mission is a-go!

Heh heh heh heh…

Snow: “…why is there a radio in here.”

Patrick: “I firmly believe that there was not a radio on that end table when we retired to our bed…”

Ahem. I do believe the score is now Author: 1, Whites: 1. That’s not counting the pre-crisis jabs, by the way.

Chapter three has come to an end. Tune in next time for chapter four, the choosing of the heir, and the end of the reign of Generation One. And I think I’m not the only one looking forward to that, am I Snow?

Snow: *grumble*