(no subject)
As is my modus operandi, I've made a ton more shit rather than playing, but today I actually felt like playing rather than taking previews, so you get picspam instead. Greensward Grey is up and running, though the map is not all meticulously laid out and prettily decorated like Kingfisher Green was. Largely because my (lack of a proper) graphics card causes it to look like this at any given time. But everything looks fine on actual lots, so I don't care.
So far I've got a grand total of six sims in, one born-ingame, the other five from CAS. I've also mostly been playing with Jack and Lydia. What can I say,
pooklet having them in their game made me miss having them in mine. Also, twice the ~*~FINANCIAL CONSULTING~*~, twice the fun, right? (Also we are dorks and like to trade pictures of what our respective Jack-and-Lydias do. Don't judge.)
Lydia is making this face in invitation for you to click the cut.
Lyds making unattractive faces, part deux.
The welcome wagon, such as it is, reminds me that I have completely forgotten to townify any body shop content.
As you can tell from the lovely decorating, they have been on the lot for about two hours. This was the first thing Jack did after detaching herself from Lydia's face. Shocked: no one.
Their v. green kitchen.
This reminded me why playing lesbians is occasionally troublesome. This was an autonomous Try For Baby, with Lydia as the target. Literally ten minutes later, they christened the bed with another autonomous Try For Baby, this time in an attempt to knock up Jack. Assholes.
Poor bb. She still hasn't caught any. Also, it tickles me to have a sign warning that their house is not included in the zombie-safe zone, since Lydia is in fact a zombie.
(1:05:03 AM)
pooklet: Paper Boy: *PRESSES FACEBOOK 'LIKE' BUTTON. REPEATEDLY.*
Lydia: Everything clean, everything new...
Carrying on with my usual method of assigning non-Maxis jobs to everyone in town, Lydia is the resident archaeologist-cum-gravedigger. She's a natural or something, found that Chinese vase and then a treasure chest straight off.
Lydia: *is oblivious.*
Jack: *dreams the whole world is a grilled cheese sandwich.*
Jack's home office, properly decorated. Not that she actually notices whilst in the throes of ~*~FINANCIAL CONSULTING~*~.
Lydia: *is enjoying the fact that it's not her vagina being dilated ten centimeters on the front porch.*
Spawn, Ig(natius)! Sort of unfortunate-looking as a toddler, but as I recall, so was Stock and she turned out all right. Also, Jack and Lydia are terrible mothers. Lydia wandered off to sit on the downstairs couch and stare into space while Jack was still in labor, and Jack immediately set baby Ig down and went off to financially consult.
Lydia is over the whole mom thing, Jack has not really noticed that she is one.
This is fast becoming a familiar scene in the Somers household.
I stand corrected, Lydia does like Ig. Rather, she likes to stare at him in vague confusion from a distance while he sleeps. I guess zombies don't have much in the way of maternal instincts.
Another of Greensward Grey's founding inhabitants, Cyril Crutchfield. He's sort of taken up Winston's mantle, in that he is a total asshole who steals newspapers and is suspiciously pretty. He lives with his twin sister Sully, who didn't make it into this series of pictures.
Anomalously, the Crutchfields' kitchen. I apparently enjoy kitchens, since it was the first room I decorated in both houses.
Ig: *sees no way this carefully laid plan could ever fail.*
Jack and Lydia's bedroom. The house is light on clutter since it's so small and narrow, though those walk-through blocks have really made my life easier.
Virginia Brinker, the fourth founder of Greensward Grey. I have yet to determine whether she is a Virginia or a Ginny.
Lydia: WHY IS IT YELLING AT ME?
Perhaps because 'it' has not been bathed once in its entire life, since the house has no room for a tub.
Ig: *is young, but observant enough to distrust a bathtub in the middle of the street.*
Good call, kiddo.
Because that is sort of an arbitrary ending, here's a snap of the bit of Greensward Grey I've decorated:
There is also a bus terminal and a dock for the ferry, a bit farther south.
Ok goodbye.
So far I've got a grand total of six sims in, one born-ingame, the other five from CAS. I've also mostly been playing with Jack and Lydia. What can I say,
pooklet having them in their game made me miss having them in mine. Also, twice the ~*~FINANCIAL CONSULTING~*~, twice the fun, right? (Also we are dorks and like to trade pictures of what our respective Jack-and-Lydias do. Don't judge.)
Lydia is making this face in invitation for you to click the cut.
Lyds making unattractive faces, part deux.
The welcome wagon, such as it is, reminds me that I have completely forgotten to townify any body shop content.
As you can tell from the lovely decorating, they have been on the lot for about two hours. This was the first thing Jack did after detaching herself from Lydia's face. Shocked: no one.
Their v. green kitchen.
This reminded me why playing lesbians is occasionally troublesome. This was an autonomous Try For Baby, with Lydia as the target. Literally ten minutes later, they christened the bed with another autonomous Try For Baby, this time in an attempt to knock up Jack. Assholes.
Poor bb. She still hasn't caught any. Also, it tickles me to have a sign warning that their house is not included in the zombie-safe zone, since Lydia is in fact a zombie.
(1:05:03 AM)
pooklet: Paper Boy: *PRESSES FACEBOOK 'LIKE' BUTTON. REPEATEDLY.*
Lydia: Everything clean, everything new...
Carrying on with my usual method of assigning non-Maxis jobs to everyone in town, Lydia is the resident archaeologist-cum-gravedigger. She's a natural or something, found that Chinese vase and then a treasure chest straight off.
Lydia: *is oblivious.*
Jack: *dreams the whole world is a grilled cheese sandwich.*
Jack's home office, properly decorated. Not that she actually notices whilst in the throes of ~*~FINANCIAL CONSULTING~*~.
Lydia: *is enjoying the fact that it's not her vagina being dilated ten centimeters on the front porch.*
Spawn, Ig(natius)! Sort of unfortunate-looking as a toddler, but as I recall, so was Stock and she turned out all right. Also, Jack and Lydia are terrible mothers. Lydia wandered off to sit on the downstairs couch and stare into space while Jack was still in labor, and Jack immediately set baby Ig down and went off to financially consult.
Lydia is over the whole mom thing, Jack has not really noticed that she is one.
This is fast becoming a familiar scene in the Somers household.
I stand corrected, Lydia does like Ig. Rather, she likes to stare at him in vague confusion from a distance while he sleeps. I guess zombies don't have much in the way of maternal instincts.
Another of Greensward Grey's founding inhabitants, Cyril Crutchfield. He's sort of taken up Winston's mantle, in that he is a total asshole who steals newspapers and is suspiciously pretty. He lives with his twin sister Sully, who didn't make it into this series of pictures.
Anomalously, the Crutchfields' kitchen. I apparently enjoy kitchens, since it was the first room I decorated in both houses.
Ig: *sees no way this carefully laid plan could ever fail.*
Jack and Lydia's bedroom. The house is light on clutter since it's so small and narrow, though those walk-through blocks have really made my life easier.
Virginia Brinker, the fourth founder of Greensward Grey. I have yet to determine whether she is a Virginia or a Ginny.
Lydia: WHY IS IT YELLING AT ME?
Perhaps because 'it' has not been bathed once in its entire life, since the house has no room for a tub.
Ig: *is young, but observant enough to distrust a bathtub in the middle of the street.*
Good call, kiddo.
Because that is sort of an arbitrary ending, here's a snap of the bit of Greensward Grey I've decorated:
There is also a bus terminal and a dock for the ferry, a bit farther south.
Ok goodbye.