Ishkabibble 6.2 (72/171 pics)
I meant to have this up yesterday, but, well, I, uh, didn't. lol. Enjoy and have at, anyway :) Comments most appreciated!
York: Baby smell like stale milk. York want Aqua. York want dog :(
Profesora Ishkabibble: I most assuredly do not smell of rancid milk! Why, the nerve of you! An apology at my desk by 6 this eve, or I shall give you lines, you impertinent triscuit!
Doctor: If I eat dog food, will I grow a curly tail like Aqua's? Well, pending lab tests, might as well give the experiment a go...
I just imagine that sinister plant in the background rolling toward him like a boulder toward Indiana Jones.
Doctor: Results! Aha! Granted, no curly tail yet in sight. Well, once my esteemed colleague the Honorable Profesora is out of the bassinet, I shall have answers.
Promising father figure Rooster the Third, alias Joe, no last name. Like Madonna, but with a pirate beard.
The best part of Joe is his extraordinary nose, which I'm hoping the kid will get. This was at their twilight engagement. I am unsure why I decided to have them get engaged, but the expression of the guy in the back say it all, really.
Guy in back, dolefully: I will never find love.
Joe: Egads! A wedding ring! Egads! Gadzooks!
York: Lobster scary :(
Doctor: Mother. Urgent news.
York: *holds book upside down* Why... no... pictures? Why...?
Doctor: This place has gone to the dogs!
York: WANT PiCTURES!!!
Happy birthday to little Profesora, who looks just like Daddy (you know, on reflection, I REALLY should have rerandomized the Sim generator after every birth to avoid this, and will make it standard practice from here on in).
Doctor: You there, old nanny creature. Away, I say, we've important councils, you know, the dear Profesora and myself.
Nanny: Aww, big bwother fancies play time with the ickle Profsies? By all means then, children. Now be good, you dear little thing.
Profesora, in scandalized tones: You smell of cheesecake!
Doctor: The lamp, Profesora, the lamp, for goddess' sake, we must get our hands on that lamp. Do you know what they rumor is in that lamp?
Profesora: Ghosts?
Doctor: Good god, woman, I am counting on your knowledge of lore to outstrip my own, not to huff and puff pathetically behind it!
Doctor: My word, Mother. You're expecting once more.
York: *hiccups* More babiez :D
Doctor: *mutters* For the nanny to raise...
I feel like in Doctor's hands, the snowman is as good as the Dark Mark, a portent of terrible things to come... or just proof that he's quite the little prat.
Ah, York, a victim of her own biology.
And here we have Princess Ishkabibble! Joe's being very clever about ostensibly cheering his child's birth and actually eyeing York's pert titsen. Princess is one of a pair of twins, the other being General Ishkabibble, and I can only tell them apart at the moment because General is ginger.
London grows up and looks just like Daddy... aaaargh! *mourns*
Doctor and Profesora are really close.
Um, way, way too close.
I assumed that the "+" above Doctor's head refers to his relationship with that eerie little sun above the chessboard, not his sister, but I guess I was wrong.
Princess Ishkabibble...
And the Ginger General. I have no idea what Princess looks like under all that confetti and hair, but General is absolutely awful, just like Daddy.
Doctor Ishkabibble, all grown up and ready to practice on you.
Here's York, looking as bright and intelligent as ever.
Although we already have a surplus of Gen 8 'Bibbles, York is relentless in pursuing guys. I assume she just likes touching people's faces or something, but Mitch Lawson, local firefighter and Rooster #4, is having none of it.
Perhaps a change of location will do the trick? I built this myself off of some house plan. It's nicely all one story. It's all right, I guess. The other Ishkamanse was just too damn big. I lost some tombstones in the move, though :( and I can't get them back T_T
Doctor: I can almost see my reflection in this wall. Oooh, I'm pretty. *is reduced to cheerful flibbertigibbetting about his attractiveness*
General Ishkabibble. His hair looks like it should be grasped firmly and used to scrub stubborn grease spots out of pots and pans.
And Princess Ishkabibble, who looks like an Old English Sheepdog in that high-fashion hair.
You see it too, right?
Of course, York's schoolgirl charms and persistent face-patting eventually pays off, and the parrot guardians keep careful, colorful watch over the sleeping twain.
Mitch: Kids, your mom and I, well, we're something of an item now, so you might see me around the house a little more often.
York: Delicious omelettes!
Princess: ...
General: I... I...
General: *mumbling to self* Gotta run, gotta run...
General: GOTTA RUN
Mitch: Your face, let me mack on it.
York: Mmm, your breath, it is like omelettes.
The Maid: Eugh. I've been entirely turned off to Hoover vacs now.
And here we have Jumbles Ishkabibble, who is a hot manslut if I ever saw one. He is a hot bitch from Generation 3.
I mean, come on. This is dirtysexySimhotness. Don't even lie. Mmmph. Anyway, I actually do play my spares, so he's had a long and very colorful life. I only just allowed him to die after an entire container of Elixir and a passle of kids. But as of right now in this update, he LIVES!
Profesora grows up, and is a prettier version of her dad. SIGH. WHY didn't I use the rerandomizer. WHY.
Oh em gee, color me shocked! We have baby sign! Even York is like "Whee! My stomach is fluffy! Like bread! I'm baking babies in my tummy!"
She's a pretty girl, that York is. Face like a basilisk, brains like a bunny.
Blonde girl: Bitch, he is mine. You don't even know. I will rip you apart.
Redhead girl: You don't understand. Only a doctor can help me. I need to know if I'm--
Doctor, barely glancing up from his homework: Yes. You are. Have the baby and give it to my mother, she won't notice.
Redhead girl: I--what?!
Blonde girl: Hah! Rock beats scissors, slutho bag of whoredom!
Doctor: Oh relax, ginge, I'm just kidding.
After redhead girl storms off...
Doctor: You know, if you want, I can examine you in my office. Privately.
Blonde: Oh... I mean, oh my... ::giggles and flutters::
General, fearfully: Zefir's alien shirt is giving me collywobbles D:
Zefir, through huge grin: There there, General! I wouldn't hurt you!
General: Really...? ...:)
Zefir: Not yet anyway, you mopheaded little bottle of Tabasco. But oh, your time shall come, your time shall come >:]
Profesora: ABSENT FATHERRR! I ABHORR YOU
Doctor and Princess reading in the kids' room. I like how it's decorated, because I'm color blind.
Heavens to Betsy, what's got Princess's bangs going through her cranial ridge?
Why, it's Mitch Lawson's baby boy! York immediately recognizes someone better qualified to deal with kids, and hands the baby to Doctor. But not before scrawling "The Good Knight" on the birth certificate before anyone notices and is able to stop her.
Profesora gives herself a little makeover. She's pretty. What the fuck.
Even York can't believe it.
Like father, exactly like son. :x
Here's Doctor, getting the entire family into private school by virtue of his brilliance. The Headmaster's like "Goodness, boy, that's quite enough of that, I'm not at school NOW, you know." The girl next to Doctor with the short hair is Caryl Hamilton, adopted daughter of gen 2's Tits Hamilton with her Servo, Gnomercy.
And behold, The Good Knight Ishkabibble! Who... stay with me now... looks exactly like his dad Mitch. Wilt.
Princess's new hairdo, apparently so Fresh! Floral! and Spring! that it makes petals sprout from her textbook.
Even curmudgeonly Doctor is all, "Ah, the rosy blush of the season!" (I actually think it's bits of glitched, um... cereal...?...Autumn leaves...?)
General and Princess are just as good buds as Profesora and Doctor are...
But the creepy sun that used to be above the chess table has been relocated to the bathroom, in order to watch you pee.
Blonde Girl and Redhead Girl continue their battle for Doctor's attention and affection.
However, it just so happens that Doctor has gone for the only playable girl in all of Onion Vale who isn't blood-related to him: Caryl Hamilton.
Blonde girl's gonna get her for it, too, I reckon.
Meanwhile, General Ginger grows up to look just like daddy...
Although, let's be fair, Daddy is hideously fugly.
And then we have Princess, who, at least, has MOM'S CHEEKBONES, and isn't an exact carbon copy of her dad!
I still think she's kind of weirdly pretty when she's got long hair like this though.
Then again, we all know I have interesting standards of pretty, since I think Jumbles is hot to trot. (HE IS.)
I just couldn't help it. Mmm, Ishcest.
Princess and Profesora both seem befuddled by the fact that The Good Knight Ishkabibble is now a child and not a toddler.
The teens in the house form a homework squadron. It's kind of cute, really.
And when York indulges in her favorite leisure activity of being pregnant...
The Doctor can really do nothing else but laugh.
General, horrified: "Oh God. Mom has sex. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God."
But Doctor calms him down, since another thing he's good at beside preening, bitching, snogging, laughing, and recognizing the signs of pregnancy is noogying his siblings.
General, muffled into Doctor's armpit: I...wanna go...to COLLEGE...
Haha, tough shit.
York: Baby smell like stale milk. York want Aqua. York want dog :(
Profesora Ishkabibble: I most assuredly do not smell of rancid milk! Why, the nerve of you! An apology at my desk by 6 this eve, or I shall give you lines, you impertinent triscuit!
Doctor: If I eat dog food, will I grow a curly tail like Aqua's? Well, pending lab tests, might as well give the experiment a go...
I just imagine that sinister plant in the background rolling toward him like a boulder toward Indiana Jones.
Doctor: Results! Aha! Granted, no curly tail yet in sight. Well, once my esteemed colleague the Honorable Profesora is out of the bassinet, I shall have answers.
Promising father figure Rooster the Third, alias Joe, no last name. Like Madonna, but with a pirate beard.
The best part of Joe is his extraordinary nose, which I'm hoping the kid will get. This was at their twilight engagement. I am unsure why I decided to have them get engaged, but the expression of the guy in the back say it all, really.
Guy in back, dolefully: I will never find love.
Joe: Egads! A wedding ring! Egads! Gadzooks!
York: Lobster scary :(
Doctor: Mother. Urgent news.
York: *holds book upside down* Why... no... pictures? Why...?
Doctor: This place has gone to the dogs!
York: WANT PiCTURES!!!
Happy birthday to little Profesora, who looks just like Daddy (you know, on reflection, I REALLY should have rerandomized the Sim generator after every birth to avoid this, and will make it standard practice from here on in).
Doctor: You there, old nanny creature. Away, I say, we've important councils, you know, the dear Profesora and myself.
Nanny: Aww, big bwother fancies play time with the ickle Profsies? By all means then, children. Now be good, you dear little thing.
Profesora, in scandalized tones: You smell of cheesecake!
Doctor: The lamp, Profesora, the lamp, for goddess' sake, we must get our hands on that lamp. Do you know what they rumor is in that lamp?
Profesora: Ghosts?
Doctor: Good god, woman, I am counting on your knowledge of lore to outstrip my own, not to huff and puff pathetically behind it!
Doctor: My word, Mother. You're expecting once more.
York: *hiccups* More babiez :D
Doctor: *mutters* For the nanny to raise...
I feel like in Doctor's hands, the snowman is as good as the Dark Mark, a portent of terrible things to come... or just proof that he's quite the little prat.
Ah, York, a victim of her own biology.
And here we have Princess Ishkabibble! Joe's being very clever about ostensibly cheering his child's birth and actually eyeing York's pert titsen. Princess is one of a pair of twins, the other being General Ishkabibble, and I can only tell them apart at the moment because General is ginger.
London grows up and looks just like Daddy... aaaargh! *mourns*
Doctor and Profesora are really close.
Um, way, way too close.
I assumed that the "+" above Doctor's head refers to his relationship with that eerie little sun above the chessboard, not his sister, but I guess I was wrong.
Princess Ishkabibble...
And the Ginger General. I have no idea what Princess looks like under all that confetti and hair, but General is absolutely awful, just like Daddy.
Doctor Ishkabibble, all grown up and ready to practice on you.
Here's York, looking as bright and intelligent as ever.
Although we already have a surplus of Gen 8 'Bibbles, York is relentless in pursuing guys. I assume she just likes touching people's faces or something, but Mitch Lawson, local firefighter and Rooster #4, is having none of it.
Perhaps a change of location will do the trick? I built this myself off of some house plan. It's nicely all one story. It's all right, I guess. The other Ishkamanse was just too damn big. I lost some tombstones in the move, though :( and I can't get them back T_T
Doctor: I can almost see my reflection in this wall. Oooh, I'm pretty. *is reduced to cheerful flibbertigibbetting about his attractiveness*
General Ishkabibble. His hair looks like it should be grasped firmly and used to scrub stubborn grease spots out of pots and pans.
And Princess Ishkabibble, who looks like an Old English Sheepdog in that high-fashion hair.
You see it too, right?
Of course, York's schoolgirl charms and persistent face-patting eventually pays off, and the parrot guardians keep careful, colorful watch over the sleeping twain.
Mitch: Kids, your mom and I, well, we're something of an item now, so you might see me around the house a little more often.
York: Delicious omelettes!
Princess: ...
General: I... I...
General: *mumbling to self* Gotta run, gotta run...
General: GOTTA RUN
Mitch: Your face, let me mack on it.
York: Mmm, your breath, it is like omelettes.
The Maid: Eugh. I've been entirely turned off to Hoover vacs now.
And here we have Jumbles Ishkabibble, who is a hot manslut if I ever saw one. He is a hot bitch from Generation 3.
I mean, come on. This is dirtysexySimhotness. Don't even lie. Mmmph. Anyway, I actually do play my spares, so he's had a long and very colorful life. I only just allowed him to die after an entire container of Elixir and a passle of kids. But as of right now in this update, he LIVES!
Profesora grows up, and is a prettier version of her dad. SIGH. WHY didn't I use the rerandomizer. WHY.
Oh em gee, color me shocked! We have baby sign! Even York is like "Whee! My stomach is fluffy! Like bread! I'm baking babies in my tummy!"
She's a pretty girl, that York is. Face like a basilisk, brains like a bunny.
Blonde girl: Bitch, he is mine. You don't even know. I will rip you apart.
Redhead girl: You don't understand. Only a doctor can help me. I need to know if I'm--
Doctor, barely glancing up from his homework: Yes. You are. Have the baby and give it to my mother, she won't notice.
Redhead girl: I--what?!
Blonde girl: Hah! Rock beats scissors, slutho bag of whoredom!
Doctor: Oh relax, ginge, I'm just kidding.
After redhead girl storms off...
Doctor: You know, if you want, I can examine you in my office. Privately.
Blonde: Oh... I mean, oh my... ::giggles and flutters::
General, fearfully: Zefir's alien shirt is giving me collywobbles D:
Zefir, through huge grin: There there, General! I wouldn't hurt you!
General: Really...? ...:)
Zefir: Not yet anyway, you mopheaded little bottle of Tabasco. But oh, your time shall come, your time shall come >:]
Profesora: ABSENT FATHERRR! I ABHORR YOU
Doctor and Princess reading in the kids' room. I like how it's decorated, because I'm color blind.
Heavens to Betsy, what's got Princess's bangs going through her cranial ridge?
Why, it's Mitch Lawson's baby boy! York immediately recognizes someone better qualified to deal with kids, and hands the baby to Doctor. But not before scrawling "The Good Knight" on the birth certificate before anyone notices and is able to stop her.
Profesora gives herself a little makeover. She's pretty. What the fuck.
Even York can't believe it.
Like father, exactly like son. :x
Here's Doctor, getting the entire family into private school by virtue of his brilliance. The Headmaster's like "Goodness, boy, that's quite enough of that, I'm not at school NOW, you know." The girl next to Doctor with the short hair is Caryl Hamilton, adopted daughter of gen 2's Tits Hamilton with her Servo, Gnomercy.
And behold, The Good Knight Ishkabibble! Who... stay with me now... looks exactly like his dad Mitch. Wilt.
Princess's new hairdo, apparently so Fresh! Floral! and Spring! that it makes petals sprout from her textbook.
Even curmudgeonly Doctor is all, "Ah, the rosy blush of the season!" (I actually think it's bits of glitched, um... cereal...?...Autumn leaves...?)
General and Princess are just as good buds as Profesora and Doctor are...
But the creepy sun that used to be above the chess table has been relocated to the bathroom, in order to watch you pee.
Blonde Girl and Redhead Girl continue their battle for Doctor's attention and affection.
However, it just so happens that Doctor has gone for the only playable girl in all of Onion Vale who isn't blood-related to him: Caryl Hamilton.
Blonde girl's gonna get her for it, too, I reckon.
Meanwhile, General Ginger grows up to look just like daddy...
Although, let's be fair, Daddy is hideously fugly.
And then we have Princess, who, at least, has MOM'S CHEEKBONES, and isn't an exact carbon copy of her dad!
I still think she's kind of weirdly pretty when she's got long hair like this though.
Then again, we all know I have interesting standards of pretty, since I think Jumbles is hot to trot. (HE IS.)
I just couldn't help it. Mmm, Ishcest.
Princess and Profesora both seem befuddled by the fact that The Good Knight Ishkabibble is now a child and not a toddler.
The teens in the house form a homework squadron. It's kind of cute, really.
And when York indulges in her favorite leisure activity of being pregnant...
The Doctor can really do nothing else but laugh.
General, horrified: "Oh God. Mom has sex. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God."
But Doctor calms him down, since another thing he's good at beside preening, bitching, snogging, laughing, and recognizing the signs of pregnancy is noogying his siblings.
General, muffled into Doctor's armpit: I...wanna go...to COLLEGE...
Haha, tough shit.