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[personal profile] kaleiphant
Cross-posting again:

(Adult-concepts ahead.)

While I'm waiting for our normal computer to be fixed....



My parents were kind enough to let me go on their laptop to test out Apartment Life while the other is down. I started playing, got into it, took some pictures, wrote a story based on the pictures, and ended up with this.

This definitely not for people under fourteen, unless you're not easily disturbed. I wanted to try my hand at a supernatural, sci-fi, horror, comedy, drama crossover (because one genre isn't enough). The pictures are irregularly placed in the text and the quality varies (but it's mostly high, with a few medium), because I wasn't sure if the laptop could handle many, higher quality pictures. The graphics on the laptop aren't what I'm used to, but I don't care, just as long as I can write and provide pictures (I'm just glad I have a computer on which to create this).

This isn't really a very serious story.

----

Chapter One: A God is You

Kaleb Aarons stood in front of his telescope late that afternoon, a long-distance listening device clamped onto each ear. The unseen sun hung low in the sky as the house behind him cast deep dark shadows on the sandy backyard. The telescope, being of a very high quality, allowed the young man to observe exactly what went on at the house on the hill up Cover Up Road, specifically, the show a young blond man was putting on. There was something to be said for watching a grown man singing "Pour Some Sugar on Me" while seated on a toilet.

To an outsider, the scene appeared to be merely that of an avid birdwatcher. To his friend, Ronya, however, it was something entirely different.

“You know, one day you’re going to end up in Vidcund’s trash can in multiple pieces,” she remarked, passing him and entering the house. Kaleb left the telescope and followed suit.





“You seem to forget; we’re only representations of the two actual people controlling and watching this world,” Kaleb responded, following her into the bathroom. He looked out the window. "No holes in the air; the forcefield's still up. We're safe," he added as he and Ronya walked back out to the living room and sat on the couch.

Ronya gave him a dubious expression. “Seriously?”

Kaleb cast his eyes toward the floor molding. “Well, no, that’s really just something I thought up to explain why we look so much like the controllers. And possibly the elephant wall hanging in the other room.”





“Then what’s to stop Vidcund from running over here right now and impaling us both on his nose, or at least, from turning us in for invasion of privacy?” Ronya continued as Kaleb retrieved his eyeballs from the side of the room.

Kaleb sat back down, only to jump up once more in realization. “We know it’s Vidcund that’ll bring the death threats!” he exclaimed, giving about two and a half more excited jumps (his initial excitement faded somewhat mid-flight).

Ronya sat still for a few seconds. “And...If we know that, before we’ve even met this Vidcund, we must have some sort of power over the other Sims!”

“We ARE gods among Sims!” Kaleb’s two and a half jumps became three after the completion that slight leap of logic.

“Hold on a minute.” Ronya’s tone sobered slightly. “If we really are gods, we should have some other powers, like omniscience or omnipotence.”

“Or the power to not suck at cooking.” Kaleb poked at his lunchmeat sandwich before getting up to store it in the fridge. “How I managed to burn the drink is beyond me.”

Ronya rose from the couch, poking around the combination living room and kitchen. “There should be something….Aha! Here it is.” She reached under the couch and brought up a big black remote control that bore the label “STRANGETOWN.” Instead of buttons for numbers, there were color-coded buttons labeled with a last name-one for every household in the town.

Kaleb box-vaulted back onto the couch. “The Universal remote!”

“Well, not completely universal; there were others under the couch. I saw one for some places called Belladonna Cove, Pleasantview-sounds a bit like a sitcom, that one- and Veronaville. But,” she flicked on the television set, “with this, dare I say it, we could….Avoid washing the dishes for at least four hours!”

“Sweet!” Kaleb pressed a fire engine red button labeled “CURIOUS.”

~~~~~~~

The sun was just considering peeking over the horizon of the Simvanian desert. A white house sat on a sandy hill, fostering the shrillest screams known to man.

“Just sit down, and we’ll get you to a hospital!” Vidcund Curious advised his convulsing older brother, Pascal, in a not-quite-so-calm voice.

“Forget the hospital, this baby’s coming now!” Pascal screamed back, assuming the birthing position on the blanket spread over the floor. “To think,” he thought, “just a few seconds ago, life was so normal.”

Nine months earlier, Pascal had been stargazing through the telescope, as he had done for the past fifteen years. He was just about ready to call it a night, when he saw a blue light streak through the sky. By the time he was able to zoom in closer, it was too late. He was sucked into the UFO, Vidcund and Lazlo powerless to do anything other than watch and maybe play a game of Punch You Punch Me. Upon being thrust unceremoniously from the aircraft and running to the toilet, he came to the conclusion that he, just like his father, Glarn, had been impregnated by the aliens.

And now here he was.

“I’ll get the scissors!” The third, youngest brother, Lazlo, ran for the bathroom medicine cabinet.

Vidcund knelt in front of Pascal, who spread his legs for his younger brother, and worked his hands into a pair of rubber gloves. He’d hardly been looking forward to this part; in Vidcund’s view, no amount of training would ever prepare him to yank a little green person out of his older brother. He was almost tempted to yell at Lazlo to get his butt back out here and help-it didn’t take that long to fetch a pair of scissors, what could he be doing?-but that would only upset Pascal (rather unwise, considering he now had a strong hold on Vidcund’s wrist).

“Whatever you do, don’t pull him out. Alien babies hate that,” Pascal warned, his voice dropping to a shaky whisper.

Vidcund was too stunned to even ask how Pascal knew the gender of the child. He did, however, remember Glarn’s story of his alien births and chose to comply. He sat in silence as Pascal pushed, only intervening to support the child as it was thrust farther from Pascal’s loins.

Seconds later, Vidcund held in his hands a tiny green baby.

“It’s a boy,” he told Lazlo, as he cut the umbilical cord.





“That’s great, ‘cause you know our luck with females…” Lazlo joked, until the placenta smacked him in the face. Vidcund watched, amused and bemused, at the sight of the normally serious Pascal laughing at Lazlo’s unfortunate placement. He washed the child off, fed him, and handed him to Pascal, whispering a “Congratulations.”





As Pascal cradled the tiny being in his arms and Lazlo fawned over him, Vidcund wandered outside in a daze. He met Nervous Subject, Pascal’s best friend, coming into the house with a syringe and a case replete with various types of painkillers (swiped from the Beakers’ lab, no doubt).

“Am I too late?” Nervous asked, nodding towards the house.





Vidcund gave a half smile. “It happened pretty fast. He might still need those painkillers, though.” Nervous continued into the house. Vidcund could hear him cheer at the baby as he continued outwards.

He chose a spot near the small garden of shrubs and sat down. As he fidgeted with a fallen leaf, he lost himself among the stars to collect his thoughts.

How could his brothers not even bat an eye at what had just happened in their own kitchen? It wasn’t every day that a man gave birth, especially to a green baby. Even with the Sims’ anatomy being as it was, male pregnancy was not terribly common.

He dropped the leaf when he heard a husky female voice mingle with the smell of the blue flowers. “Hello, my pretty.”

Vidcund snapped his head up and slid backwards into a shrub at the sight of the woman. She was dressed from head to toe in a flowing, satiny black robe and dress, topped with a conical hat from which a few blond tendrils fell. A green aura surrounded her, along with a few green globes of pure light.





Her skin matched her aura. He retreated about five more paces at her advance.

He eventually decided that he was being a bit of a spaz. His two half sisters, his brother-in-law, his older nephew, and now his newborn nephew were all green. Why was he so discomfited over one more green person? Simply because her skin was a different shade of green? Because of her aura (which Pascal’s son seemed to emit as he emerged)? Because her bodice so didn't go with those green sparkles?

He stood up and acted as though he were checking the mail. She approached him from behind. He jumped slightly, slamming the mailbox shut. The unknown green woman circled him, seeming to inspect him. For what, he had no idea.





“Um…Good morning,” Vidcund stammered. The woman leered, adding to his discomfort. She veered closer to him, whispered in his ear, “I’ve had my eye on you and you’re just perfect for what I have planned.”





Before Vidcund could move (or threaten to shove her telescope where the now rising sun don’t shine), the woman drew back and pulled out a black wand, topped with a bright red diamond-shaped jewel. Vidcund tried to run, but found himself wooden as he watched her wand stir up tiny green stars, then spew them in his direction.

Vidcund felt sensation returning to his extremities-just in time to feel a paralyzing burst of pain in the side of his head. His vision clouded up with the green aura, until he could only see a wall of green light.





This persisted for a few seconds until his feet hit the ground. The green cleared from his vision as the pain slowly dulled. He was now dressed in a masculine version of the green woman’s outfit. His blond hair had somehow pinned itself under a crooked conical hat.

His appearance was not all that was altered. The very section of his brain that had throbbed only a minute ago began to tingle. While he knew very well no motion was occurring, he could feel it twisting and prickling at the inside of his head. He clutched his head, struggling to stay upright.

“What have you done to me?” he whimpered, giving up all hope of remaining conscious any longer.

The green woman stepped back in satisfaction. “Now, my pretty, you shall wreak havoc wherever you tread!”





Inside the house, Pascal declared, “I’ve decided on Shaquan.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~





Pascal sat in his room reading. He was just at the part of the book when Lenny, the protagonist, was about to find out that the attractive alien he’d been seeing was really a member of the intergalactic version of the Gestapo when he heard something. A sound not common in the tiny white house on the hill. A sound not particularly welcome, even in a tiny town like Strangetown.

Silence.

No screaming of an abducted Vidcund, no crash of a falling trash can, not a peep from Lazlo, nothing. Well, there was one tiny sound; just the slight tone from above that sounded like an illuminated television and a male and female voice laughing, but that could have been just the set in the other room, the sound reverberating peculiarly through the odd floorplan.

This warranted investigation.

Lazlo had finished a lovely session of watching television in his underwear and was going to finally take the shower he’d been putting off all day when he ran into Pascal, in search of Vidcund.





“Thank the gods someone’s still alive around here!” Pascal exclaimed.

“What, has the Social Worker come for Shaquan yet?”

“No,” Pascal seethed, resisting the urge to snap Lazlo with his boxers’ elastic. “I mean, where on earth is Vidcund? I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him for almost three weeks.”





“Have you checked his room?” Lazlo gave the door to Vidcund’s room a gentle push and Pascal pushed him aside to peer inside. Their brother was tucked into his bed, sleeping soundly.

Pascal was not convinced. “Yes, I know where he is when he’s sleeping; it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. But where is he when he’s awake and why haven’t I seen him for weeks on end? More importantly, where have you been all this time?”





Lazlo put on an irritated face. “I’m not a child anymore, Pascal. Do I seriously have to tell you every single thing I did?”

Pascal, repressing the urge to flat out throttle Lazlo, responded snidely, “Yes. Yes, you do.”

“Okay, I woke up, I peed, I considered taking a shower, sniffed myself, decided against it, sniffed my shirt from yesterday (and the day before, actually), sprayed Febreeze on it, and put it on, then I sniffed my underwear…”

“That’s enough,” Pascal interrupted, now wishing he’d spared the sarcasm. “Look, all I wanted to know is what Vidcund has been doing these past weeks that I haven’t even seen him at mealtimes.”





Lazlo picked at his cuticles. “How should I know? I was out, too.”

“Which leads me to ask once more, where have you been and what were you doing?”

Lazlo gave an exasperated sigh. “First, I went to 88 Road to Nowhere Mall and held it up. I used the money to fund my own drug ring. Then, I clubbed a hooker with a bat and stole his job. I made fifty dollars after a Woohoo with Buzz Grunt and pushed him into the pool with the broken ladder-”

Pascal threw up his arms. “FINE. If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself. Eventually.” He stalked back down the hall.

“Wait!” Lazlo chased after him. “Don’t you want to hear about the arson spree?”

----

Chapter Two will be up next week.

(Note on Pascal's alien pregnancy: Since male Sims seem to be able to have children by non-aliens as well as aliens, I've come to the conclusion that their anatomy isn't exactly like humans. Male Sims must have both sets of reproductive organs and the necessary hormones and things that go with them. I assume this must be some sort of evolutionary thing in the Sim world, in case all the female Sims die or become infertile, or something. That was the best explanation I could come up with.)

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