The Russo Legacy 2.0

THERE IS NO INTRO JUST GO GO GO!

Darla:  “So we’re deciding who’s going to lead the third generation this update, right?  And there’s a good chance it’s going to be me, right mom? Right?”

Ivy:  "Clones say ‘what’!”

Darla:  “What?”

Ivy:  “SNRRK!”

I like Jonas’ face, okay?

Jonas:  “SNOW YES SNOW.”

Marla:  “Psst, hey, c’mere.”

Jonas:  “What?”

Marla:  “C’mere and look at this!”

Jonas:  “What is it? What?”

Marla:  “Look!”

Jonas:  *indiscriminate wailing*

From taking turns to pick on their little brother to building a snowman, the clones seem to do everything together. Everything…

_____ 

I figured I’d see what’s in store for the stores if I let Marla&Darla run it for a while on weekends.  I know they only have some skill points and lack any badges, but I wasn’t prepared for the enormity of their ineptitude…

Also for some reason, changing into uniform gave them both the same hair. As if they needed to look more alike, god.

Customer #93308:  “If you could just show me the different icecreams you have, that’d be grea—“

Marla or Darla:  “We have icecream here?”

GUT PUNCH!

Marla or Darla:  “I’M NOT REALLY SURE HOW TO LEAVE.”

Marla or Darla:  “WE HAVE TO CLIMB OVER EACH OTHER.”

Why did I expect anything more than facepalm-inducing failure from these two?

Yep, this about sums it up.

_____

Isn’t this how you two woo’d each other in the beginning? D’aw.

Ivy:  “Rook…to…E4?”

HOORAY CONGRATULATIONS IT ONLY TOOK YOU YOUR ENTIRE LIFE TO ACHIEVE MAXED LOGIC SKILLS.

PAY ATTENTION TO ME.

Aw, the first little legacy fire.  How quaint.

HOLY SNAP, WHAT IS THIS BLAZING INFERNO? WE HAVE A FIRE ALARM FOR THIS REASON YOU KNOW.  AND WHERE IS—

oh no. Do you see that frantically waving hand?  Please do not tell that that’s--

Ariel:  “HELP! HELP! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO PUT HOT THINGS ON THIS TYPE OF COUNTER SURFACE.  IT’LL BUBBLE. BUBBLE!”

You sorry slob! You’ve let Death befall my legacy founder! 

The Russo family does not take death so well.

The gaping face of the bereft.

OH I AM SO SORRY YOU ARE BORED WITH ONE OF YOUR MOTHER’S DEATH, JONAS.  MY HEART BLEEDS FOR YOU.

Ivy:  “Chili con *sob* carne was her favourite *sob*!”

Aw, no, Ivy, stop! It’ll be oka—

Ivy:  “HER FAVOURIIIIITE.”

<(´Д｀。)>

The girls immerse themselves in schoolwork; their grief churned out A+ report cards.

Ivy, on the other hand, seems to be battling her emotions.

Jonas seeks comfort in a friendly wolf.  I applaud this!

I felt bad for her, so I started Ivy off on her LTW to become a prestidigitator.  

Do you know how hard it is to get screencaps of these two solo?

The INTENSE GAME OF ROCK PAPER SCISSORS seems to distract the clones from worry and woe alike.

Oh! Spoke too soon.  Here we have a peaceful scene of Darla tending the tomato garden—

Darla:  “Goddamn Jonas.”

Oh.

It’s like they experience separation anxiety if they’re not within three feet of each other at all times, sheesh.

Goofy.  So fucking goofy.

Jonas:  “She made me a…robot?”

Ivy’s been spending some time fulfilling her hobby of inventing.  She hasn’t any badges yet, but—

Robot:  “EXTERMINATE, AND DESTROY.”

Jonas:  “Wait, wha--?”

Robot:  “EXTERMINATE, AND DESTROY. EXTERMINATE, AND DESTROY.  EXTERMINATE, AND DESTROY.”

Jonas:  “Ugh, get away from me! MOOOM.”

GROW THE FUCK UP.

Jonas:  “I birthday-wish she was dead!”

Marla:  “Oh, not unless I take you with me!”

Let’s see the results! o3o

Jonas:  “No, get away; don’t even look at me.”

What? Move your hand, Jonas! Let us see what non-cloney generation two looks like!

Jonas:  “No, I’m—I’m hideous.”

...Oh.

Well, okay, see that’s kinda better.  His mouth is only mildly disappointing.

Jonas Russo, a knowledge sim who prefers dark-haired, scantily-clad beauts and brutes with cleaning compulsions!

The clones look the same. They will always look the same. They will DIE looking the same. Sigh.

Bigger Maxis-made house that depleted almost the entirety of the Russo’s tangible funds.

But hey! Money garden! I DESPERATELY WANT EGGPLANTS.

If anybody can shmooze their son’s way into private school, Ivy would be the best bet.

Watch dem hands there, Headmaster

-_______-

Headmaster:  “…She’s not looking to enroll in my school, is she?”

Marla:  “hnnngh, worryworry, hnnngh”

Marla:  “HNNGH, WORRYWORRY.”

Marla:  “TICKLE MONSTER TIME!”

Jonas:  *tries to subtly belong*

I periodically find Ivy sobbing in the bathroom.  Poor thing.

EXCITEMENT!

Along with her LTW of becoming a prestidigitator, I’ve been letting Ivy throw herself into inventing so as to get through her grief.  She manages to make a few bucks.  Ariel would be proud.

:’)

Well, it can’t all be peaches and cream.

It was just a matter of time, sigh.

NOW SNAP OUT OF IT AND GET TO WORK, MIME.

Darla:  “Attack of the tickle monster!”

Constantly.  CONSTANTLY.  They are such good help in the garden, but jesus do these two need to leave.

What? Why are you sad? Were the clones picking on you again?

Jonas:  “I’m hungry.”

…You are in the kitchen! Just go make yourself a sandw—

Jonas:  “And my mom died.”

Oh. Right. Carry on.

You guys sick of this face yet? 

WELL TOO BAD JONAS IS HEIR SURPRISE SURPRISE.

Also yes, yes he did get into private school.  

_____

Finals week you guys.  Killer.  I go die now. Hope you liked. Enjoy. Bye.