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The Journey of a Thousand Miles - 1,000 Baby/Legacy Challenge
CreamierThanMami
Posts: 684 Member
Long ago, when mankind was still in its infancy...
WELCOME!) This is my shot at a 1,000 Baby/Legacy challenge hybrid. Since baby raising and plot-weaving are my all time favorite parts of Sims, it only makes sense that I've extended these loves into a story! It's going to be long, but I'm going to try and write in a way that one can pop in on any generation and still understand what is going on, so please don't be scared off by the length. Actually, that's why I'm including the next bullet.
THE STORY THUS FAR)
In an effort to not alienate newcomers (ten generations with a hundred babies each is quite a story to catch up on!) and give others a sample of the current story to see if it fits their taste, I will be doing my best to summarize the overarching plot as it is revealed. There will probably be slight spoilers. Please note that the story takes place in an alternate reality where Goddesses once ruled an "ancient" Earth, but gave humans modern technology and dress that we expect out of today's world.
Mankind has taken advantage of the Goddesses' kindness. Instead of thanking their creators for the wonderful gifts they have been given, such as food, immortality, and entertainment, they laze around and even criticize them for not doing enough. In response, the goddesses have decided that it is best to simply destroy man and start over again - but one Goddess, Laetitia, begs them to reconsider. She convinces them to instead destroy mankind's material possessions, and leave the rest to her. As a result of this plan, the world is overtaken by violence as people struggle to carve out a simple living. Can Laetitia fix this?
Well...sort of. Her original plan was to approach Ginny, a faithful human with unwavering optimism, and ask for her services. She would give birth to one hundred children, all of whom would embody a positive trait necessary for the human race's wellbeing. These children would then travel the globe, teaching man their trade, under the blessings of the Goddesses. But when Ginny is captured by roaming marauders and her husband murdered, there's a slight change in plans. Luckily (?), they soon abandon her...right after she has twelve children in one sitting. All are demigods, meant to spread goodwill across the land - exactly what Laetitia wants. So why does Ginny loose her memory, yet somehow know that she must have a hundred children? That comes in a later chapter.
She meets Fawn of Joon, who quickly becomes the first baby daddy. How will she explain to him that he cannot be her one and only? Quite easily, actually. He understands her allegiance to the goddesses and even offers to help her raise the children.
RULES)
I'm taking rules from both the Legacy and the 1,000 Baby challenges to suit the needs of their creation. The 1,000 Baby Challenge's rules are practically identical to 100's, except for, of course, the number of children actually being produced. However, no one mother will give birth to one thousand children, like it dictates in the 1,000's rules. I have no idea how anyone wouldn't get bored of that, and besides, where would I get all of those fathers from without repeats? There will be limited use of cheats (no money ones, mainly just "resetsim" and "edit in CAS"). No child's facial/bodily structures may be changed in any way, with the exception of CC eye makeup since that doesn't really physically change them, just makes their eyes look cool. No child may stay in the home after they become a young adult, with the exception of the next female founder (duh). Aging will be turned on, but the mother will be aged down by me in CAS whenever she gets to adult/elder - this is a story oriented challenge, and I think it's only fair to take all of the time I need. Ambrosia is off limits, regardless. I will only switch to another household temporary for the sake of photographs, if needed. Kids will be aged up only when they reach an A in school. The founder can only marry at the end of her one hundred babies; other than that, she must find different men to woohoo with. Mothers can move lots, but never to other towns. Adopted Sims/imaginary friends (if either are used) will not be counted toward the challenge total. Last, but not least, I'm not playing for points.
If there's anything I've forgotten here, I'll add it in the future.
If you like my story, contributions to my wishlist are appreciated!
Post edited by CreamierThanMami on
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Gen 1) Mother - Ginny Iterum
DO NOT COUNT TOWARD CHALLENGE TOTAL - Pisces - Sagittarius - Taurus - Capricorn - Aquarius - Gemini - Aries - Libra - Scorpio - Leo - Cancer
Father) Fawn of Joon
Children One and Two - Nix and Kolpia
Father) Haili Day -
Children Three, Four, Five, Six - Orion, Niro, Alilive, Casper
Father) Sour Apple (his name doesn't appear in the story)
Children Seven and Eight - Warwick and Osiris
Father) Never shown
Children Nine, Ten, and Eleven - Thistle, Allbright, and Rein
Father) Cuewen
Children Twelve, Thirteen, and Fourteen - Comet, Callisto, and Cloud
Gen 2)
Gen 3)
Gen 4)
Gen 5)
Gen 6)
Gen 7)
Gen 8)
Gen 9)
Gen 10)
Gen 1)
Gen 2)
Gen 3)
Gen 4)
Gen 5)
Gen 6)
Gen 7)
Gen 8)
Gen 9)
Gen 10)
Long ago, when mankind was still in its infancy, a legion of goddesses gathered every one hundred years at a sacred grounds to oversee their creations. Some had long grown bored of their toys, and others still had fretted. Their celestial children had lazed and laid barren for the last three hundred years. Given the gift of eternal life and the blessings of the goddesses in the forms of foods and entertainment, there was no real reason to work, or even live.
They had learned to rely solely on the heavens for their livelihoods, and many of the days that the goddesses had created for harvest and worship were wasted on gossip and secular feasts. The land’s characteristically mellow weather became a plague of its own, giving inhabitants the excuse to lounge and criticize their very makers.
Sleep and throwaway pleasures of the flesh became many a person's pursuit as the days lazily drifted past, eroding at the goddess' patience with each disrespect.
And on the advent of the third gathering of the legion, it was proposed that the land be swept away by flame, or flood, and a new beginning be reached. Many agreed out of desperation - though only as to get back to their amusements, in the own flawed image of their very creations.
But as the final preparations were made, a sole member spoke out.
“Punish man for their sins,” the brave one known as Laetitia urged, “But spare them their lives. Allow me to give them hope, and instruct them on the facets of living.”
Many who had remained silent soon rallied behind the outspoken goddess, and others admired her heart and courage.
The leader and the oldest of the goddess, Dux, considered the proposal carefully. “Are you prepared to rectify the chaos that will ensue from our rage? Can you bear the weight man will leave on your shoulders?”
Laetitia nodded. “I have been weaving a plan for these one hundred years, and will not disappoint you.”
Dux smiled faintly, grateful for the outburst in the usually orderly proceedings. “Very well. I will leave it to you.” She motioned at her followers. “The rest of you know where your work lays.” And they disbanded.
The first to release her wrath was Eluvies, in form of battering floods. Naturally, before destroying the homes of hundreds, she took a few moments to appreciate the world her brethren had helped to create.
In truth, she would have loved to cut down the humans with typhoons in retribution for their slaughter of her beloved marine life (in the name of sport, no less!), but in keeping with her commitment to the legion, merely destroyed their shelters. She ignored their screams of mercy in the far distance, content to take her place on the shoreline and listen to the peaceful sound of the lapping waves.
Goaded on by the success of her polar opposite and lover, the next to rise was Ignis. It only took a simple wave of her hand to cut down the lovely parks that man had once spent many a lazy afternoon in, returning them to dust. Her original plan was to scorch the very Earth, making last-ditch farming impossible. Yet she was fiercely loyal to the league, and instead laid among one of many land plots the Goddesses had long set aside for crops as her fires raged far away.
Man's screams as buildings were encased in flame meant nothing to her.
The destruction was only compounded by Spatia, Goddess of the Galaxy. Her medium had long been used to transport goods between the Goddesses and man, who had greedily gobbled up the treasures without so much as a proper thanks. Though she had a right mind to punish their creations for allowing her beautiful constellations to go unappreciated, she instead picked off the plots of land the others had ignored through her meteors, and did so all in the comfort of the Goddesses' home.
Some watched in disgusted awe at the Goddesses' wrath.
Others directly felt it.
And as the Earth fell, so did what morality the humans had left. Without their leisure activities to keep them occupied nor a steady supply of food from the Goddesses, many, for the first time died. Some leaned toward crime, roving the countryside in rogue groups to destroy homes and rob makeshift storefronts. Though they dared not mention it for fear of Dux's rebuttal, many goddesses began to secretly despise Laetitia. Whatever her plan was, it must have backfired miserably.
Little did they know that hope was closer possibly than they could have imagined.
Thank you!
Thank you!
Glad to know that I helped!
I always find it so boring when people's baby challenges are simply "here's a mom, she wants 100 kids". I think it's more fun and more interesting in the long run to come up with a reason as to why she's having 100 kids besides the fact that she simply likes them. You really can create an environment out of that.
Thanks! That means a lot to me!
Here's a WIP shot.
Even when sheltered under the wings of their creators, mankind had become accustomed to one, universal truth - nothing lasts forever. For Ginny, her end would come quicker than she had expected.
As the Goddess of Happiness, Laetitia was no stranger to the Iterum residence.
Despite the changes in world order, never once had Ginny's optimism faltered. Laetitia knew less of her husband, who remained unwaveringly solemn, but knew that the two lived together in a secluded cottage. It was pieced together by scraps of the old world and the husband's craftsmanship, and the two lived comfortably in harmony with nature. But for the small river, heavy rocks and mountains surrounded their homebase and served to isolate them from outer nonsense. Two years since the fall of the Goddesses had given the two just enough time to adjust. And that was about to change.
Though the couple would have never realized it, a man dressed in stolen goods sat on the far end bank of their very same river, scowling. He was a thief born from the new world, christened in the pilfered gold and poached lives of his adversaries, and yet, he felt spiritless. Robbing more than he could have possibly needed, he felt somehow cheated by his boredom.
A member of his crew, a physician of sorts, looked over the sulking Captain. "Sir, our men have discovered a pair of boats on the shoreline. Perhaps you'd like to see where they lead us?
Foolishly, the husband hadn't tied his boats to land, and they had floated idly down the river where they became tangled with the remnants of the dock.
The thief humphed. "And what would be the point of that?"
"Well, it is getting darker, sir. We need a place to rest in safety for the night."
With some surprise, he noted that the moon had indeed peaked. And as he gathered his crew, piling into the boats and paddling with large, flat branches that had recently fallen, he careful considered what his next move should be.
When Ginny heard the first crash, she was slightly worried, but not scared.
"Seth?" she offered to the night. No response.
---
It shouldn't have ended like this.
Laetitia ran a soft hand through the husband's hair, though she doubted that he could feel it at this point. He had probably been laying on the ground for about an hour now. Why hadn't she had arrived when she felt the sudden drop in happiness?
"You were not supposed to die," is all she could manage, after bringing him into the household. "Your legacy was going to lay with my beautiful Ginny. Not as a faceless casualty."
"Well," said a dislocated voice, "He's not a total waste. He's good practice, at the very least."
Visio leaned against a wall in an awkward attempt to seem mysterious. The youngest of the Goddesses at about two thousand years, she was the Goddess of Future.
"I already know what you're about to say," Visio teased as Laetitia opened her mouth in question. The joke had long overstayed its welcome, but Laetitia listened politely.
"Not a lot of Goddesses realize, but I'm also the Goddess of Death. All futures end in one thing, anyway. Makes sense. But since nobody's really died for the last thousand years, I haven't been needed. Kinda in the same boat as you."
She wanted to argue, but Visio had a point. Happiness hadn't been much of a problem when the Goddesses had supplied man with his every last whim. As for her other title...Uncomfortable thoughts Laetitia had long tucked away came flooding back, but she quietly dismissed them.
"Well," Visio stretched, "I'd love to sit around and chat, but I've got a few hundred souls to reap before the sun comes up. Oh, and by the way?"
"Yes?"
"You might want to start looking for that Ginny girl before things really go downhill."
---
It shouldn't have started like this.
Ginny and her husband were supposed to carve out a simple existence on the beach side, and perhaps have a few children. The goddesses would see how humanity could be humbled, and would lift their curses. Yet as she marched, the marauders monitoring her every step, she could almost feel the alien distance from her house. Even the sunlight itself felt different. She had always thought of the sun as a kind, loving being, but now it beat her upon brow without mercy.
In the three days that they had been traveling, she had tried to escape four times. One particularly notable attempt would have ended in success if the water had muted her breaststroke nearly well as it had the movements of the ringleader.
He, in particular, had been watching her every breath with bitter vigor. From what little Ginny understood of the men's conversations, the man was Pierce, and his group had no permanent settlement nor goals. She would be condemned to a life of vagabondage...among other injustices.
@SharlaSedai I don't think the poor thing realizes just how much she's lost her husband...after all, she only saw him out cold.
(Finally! The end of the prologue! Thanks for sticking along for so long!)
~
Ginny Iterum was of child.
It had been a week.
How such an occurrence was possible was unknown to her, untouched by her husband and never fully dirtied by the ringleader. But life shifted inside of her, indifferent to logic and reason. Blessing or curse, she was undeniably laden. Thankfully she had not grown a prominent stomach, and the group had failed to grasp the full extent of her situation.
She tried to rid her mind of this troubling occurrence by fishing for the group, watched at a safe distance at all times.
There was rarely a private moment in her life. And even in times of true solitude, still, she was blessed with Laetitia's invisible presence.
Day in, day out, the patient goddess oversaw her lost child, indifferent or unaware of her brethren's dissent. The goddesses whisked and rumbled over the chaos born of her plan, but their noise had never reached her ears.
And even still, never once had Ginny lost hope, showing a strange awareness of the goddess' presence that Laetitia had not anticipated. She had not felt betrayed by the Goddesses and waited patiently for their judgement to come to a close - and with it, her imprisonment.
And in another week, such an end was to be reached.
She was guided through childbirth by the alert physician, the only other member awake at the late hour. He did not question the absurdity of the situation, and simply carried out his job.
Ginny found the kindness in his face necessary to fight the rolling pains. She briefly wondered what type of man he had been before the fall.
When she held the first child in her arms, she was content, but knew that not all was right. "Twins?" she briefly considered. The oldest was swaddled and laid to the side, oddly quiet but healthy nonetheless.
Twins, indeed. The physician led her to a remote bank to continue her birth. He did not want the resulting crying to wake up the rest of the crew. The last shreds of the moon in morning glow trailed Ginny's footsteps, unwilling to abandon her.
And then the triplets followed. The physician raised an eyebrow. Quadruplicates? Was there even a medical term for a count past five? Children unnaturally gushed from her legs. Laetitia watched in silent pride, having never witnessed a human birth since the beginnings of man.
The doctor, on the other hand, stepped backwards in silent horror. This was not normal. Though he tried to maintain his composure, sweat cascaded down his brow.
"Pierce?" he yelled into the the bleak, scooping up a child as if for physical evidence. Ginny yelped and tried to reach out to grab his arm, but physical weakness bowled her over. She could barely prop herself up on her arms. The world's frame bucked as Ginny's eyes filled with black.
The trees quivered with anticipation.
---
"Twelve."
Ginny's eyelashes fluttered softly in a hot breeze.
"Twelve children."
She was pulling herself up now, and the ground was giving way. Sand? It was too hard to be so, but it had a strange consistently. If she had been far from her home before, this might of well had been a separate planet.
"So which one of you was it?"
Pierce rounded the circle, suspiciously eyeing each of his men. Ginny wondered how far she had been dragged.
"Which one of you 🐸🐸🐸🐸 slept with her?"
He pulled a single child up by the arm. Ginny yelled and bolted from her position on the ground, but was swept from her feet by Pierce's well placed shove. He continued speaking as if she wasn't there.
"You know what? I don't think that I even want an answer. When we stole this woman, I just wanted to prove that I could. But not with the price of a 🐸🐸🐸🐸 family."
"So let's leave her," a grunt grumbled.
"Agreed," another chipped in.
For the first time, Pierce turned to look at Ginny, who had finally wobbled to her feet. She cowered under his smoldering glare.
"Sounds ideal to me."
Pierce dropped the baby into her arms, sparing no words. He motioned to his group with a strange flick of the wrist, a sort of sign language Ginny had never picked up on until this day. As if herd animals, they suddenly darted for the hills, Pierce hot on their heels. Even if Ginny had wanted to follow them, she could have not have matched their speed nor balanced all of her children. It was over before she knew it.
She wanted to reflect on her new found freedom, but she had the concern of her children to deal with. But when she turned around to count her children once more, they were gone.
In place were eleven beautiful women.
You'll see. But they are meaningful!
Hmmm... my guess is that they're named after the Gods/Goddesses
Eleven females stared back, none as confused as Ginny herself. All carried themselves with the weight of responsibility.
They seemed quite comfortable with their surroundings. Some smiled at one another knowingly.
Others remained quite serious.
And still, others seemed unfazed by the entire ordeal.
Ginny heaved. Words could not cover the spectrum of shock that reverberated across her body.
A single member, with brown hair pulled into tight twin pigtails, approached while the others watched. She patted Ginny on the back. "Hi."
"Where are my children?" Ginny immediately demanded, pulling herself back together as quickly as she had fallen apart. The woman again patted her.
"I imagine that this is rather difficult for you to take in."
"Where are they?" The braided woman lifted her hands.
"You must hear me out."
"Not until you tell me where my children are."
The woman crossed her arms bluntly. It was obvious that she was not one for verbal games. "We are your children. Sort of. I was getting to that. I am Taurus. The rest of my siblings go by Cancer, Gemini, Aquarius, Pisces, Aries, Leo, Libra, Sagittarius, and Carpicorn."
Water. She must have water.
A large tree shook forbiddingly in a rare desert wind. "How can you possibly be...?"
Taurus responded with flourish. "Let it not be said that your prayers fell on silent ears. The patient goddess Laetitia answered your cries for mercy in a way befitting of her plan."
Wasn't Laetitia that minor goddess rumored to not even exist? "Plan?" she instead inquired, not wishing to insult her benefactor.
"It is a plan to save the human race as we know it. And you are crucial to its success."
"How so?" Easily enthralled by her daughter's tone of major authority, Ginny felt rather embarrassed that she could not think of more poetic probes.
Taurus yawned, and recited her spiel as if it had been practiced, word for word."We were initially created from the fabric of Laetitia's robes, quilted into your body with the utmost care. You were among the chosen few on this miserable planet who remained uncorrupted by the goddess' gifts. Your pureness of heart made you the perfect incubator for a new breed of goddesses. As our vessel on to this moral plane, your good temperament has split evenly into each of us and mixed with our individual talents to create the ultimate army of good. Shortly, we shall depart to separate parts of the continent to spread our help in whatever way necessary - under the protection of the goddess, of course."
Her head uncomfortably spun with the new information. A few days ago, she had been a simple housewife. Today, she was the harbinger of a new age.
"And what about that one child?"
All eyes turned the direction of Ginny's gaze.
A sister had picked up the baby, examining it closely.
"It appears to be Virgo," she finally shouted to Taurus.
"Why hasn't she aged like the rest of you?" Ginny wondered when she could come to the end of these questions.
Taurus shrugged. This inquiry was obviously was not in her script. "Good question. A late bloomer, perhaps."
"Give her to me."
The daughter obliged, handing the child to its mother. Carefully, Ginny pushed a hand through the child's wispy hair.
"And when are you to leave?"
"Immediately."
It occurred to Ginny that it should have hurt, being simply used by the goddess as a biological oven, without even so much as a chance to learn about her children, but the baby in her arms had quickly become her entire world.
And she wanted to share it with someone special.