Jan 1, 2020
New year, new legacy. I decided to make a new, gameplay centered random legacy, with a goal to get to gen 2 before the end of January. Because I used to just play the sims. ;_;
The queue starts tomorrow.
seen from United States
seen from Uzbekistan
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from T1
seen from Poland
seen from Australia
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Morocco
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Nicaragua
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
New year, new legacy. I decided to make a new, gameplay centered random legacy, with a goal to get to gen 2 before the end of January. Because I used to just play the sims. ;_;
The queue starts tomorrow.
It seemed once Bourbon got started, he couldn’t stop. Once out of the equestrian center, he galloped home, a terrified Flora clinging to the reins. “Slow down, you beast!” She yelled. He whinnied, ignoring his rider. This race home would become routine over the following weeks, and would increase in speed as Flora and Bourbon climbed the ranks of the Hidden Springs equestrian scene.
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This wasn’t supposed to be how prom ended.
No, it was supposed to end in romance and fireworks. Flora Bee had counted on it, selecting a strapless dress and a loose and curly half bun. Her date, Jon, had been appropriately wowed by her sartorial choices, and she had been certain her reservation for a post-prom room at the Windfall Inn would pay off.
But that was before the ballroom blitz. Instead, her dress had been reduced to scraps and ashes, and her painfully curled hair had been scorched off. She had escaped the gym narrowly, leaving Jon cowering inside. He was unharmed, she was sure. Because as always, the focus of the night--and the violence--was her twin sister. Her supernaturally gifted, incredibly powered witch of a sister.
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Whenever Flora rode him, Bourbon would go no faster than a mild trot. At the stables, though, he let loose. The stallion had a knack for racing. It seemed the only thinking holding him back was his rider. Flora knitted her brow as she watched him. She’d heard gossip at the stables about the money a good jockey could make. She didn’t know much about riding, but she was light, determined, and unemployed--a triple threat.
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Flora gagged, but managed to swallow it back. Clearing her throat, she made her way to the terminal. As she entered the building, she came to the end of her plan. She didn’t know what awaited her outside the airport. So she settled into a bench in the airport lobby. It had been a long night. She would find her way after a nap.
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Eight hours later, Flora Trémaux arrived in Hidden Springs. She was the sole passenger of a Cessna 172, piloted by a man tasked with bringing supplies to the village’s small military base. It had been a bumpy flight, and she didn’t get to choose the destination, but it only cost her 200 simoleons. She made sure to take it out of Fauna’s half.
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A howl pierced through the roar of the flames, followed by a shriek. A creak emanated from the roof of Nature and Nurture Learning Academy, no doubt a sign the beams were beginning to buckle. Flora sighed as she pulled herself up from the ground. By morning, the front half of the school would be nothing more than ash. She would be gone by then.
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This is it, Flora thought. It hardly felt different from her native Aurora Skies--perhaps a bit warmer, a bit brighter. She knew she would be far enough south she wouldn’t be able to see auroras anymore. The smell of pine was a little overpowering, too. But at least here, she would have an ocean between her and her family. She breathed in a deep breath. My future is in front of me. Then she exhaled. My past behind me. She inhaled again.
And then felt sick rise into her mouth.
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