The PeRuse Chronicles:I. Of Cats and Sim

Welcome to the PeRuse Chronicles. I’ve been wanting to try a legacy with a different writing style to the ones I’ve tried in the past. I’ve noticed I never keep up with one that has no true purpose, the ones where I just shove a sim into a house and make fun of them – they get boring and tedious to derive humor of something so common among other legacies. I’ll try to keep my humorous style, though I’ll be working towards a more narrative means of captioning.

This is Lewis PeRuse. For the naming scheme, I’ll be using author’s first and last names. He’s named after Robert Louis Stevenson, author of Treasure Island. It’s been used, I’m sure, but it just works with how I’m writing this. You can’t really drum up a dramatic storyline around a sim named Pikachu, can you?

Lewis: “The Pokemon anime did.”Shush. He is a Loser Genius who loves Cats, Exercise, and…bother, I’ve closed

my game. Lewis: “Shall I just wait and look presentable?”Quit talking like a debonair. Oh, yes, he’s a Workaholic. Lewis: “I value my work ethic—”No one cares, dear.

I bought a pre-made because…I’m lazy. I’ve decided this would take place in Starlight Shores. He wants to become a Master Magician, which is considerably harder than the Singer career, I’ve noticed, because you don’t have an option to do special things such as Sing-a-Grams, which is the brunt of the money you obtain in the first weeks of gameplay. And with two cats, living don’t come cheap.

Lewis: “A blue house? It’s not even a manly blue.”Should I spend your $600 to paint over it?Lewis: “Well, if it won’t bother you—”That was sarcasm. Take what I give you or you’ll be living in a 2x2 with no door

or food.

This is Lovecraft, named after H.P. Lovecraft, who wrote The Call of Cthulhu among other weird, demented fiction. He is a Genius, Lazy, and Quiet. I think he’s a Bobcat. I just went through the breed list with my eyes closed and picked a random one.

Lovecraft: “I could spill out Lovecraftian prose, but the dear omnipresence hasn’t read any of his works.”

I…I’ve watched a walkthrough of one of the games made from the books.Lovecraft: “Which is barely a basis for naming a pixelated cat after him.”Why do all the animals in this game contradict me??Lovecraft: “Probably because you’re writing our personalities. And let’s face it,

if you didn’t have one or two ongoing feuds between characters, the story would ultimately fail.”

Oh, go lick yourself.

This is Maya, named after Maya Angelou, famous poet known for writing about the struggles of her early life in poverty, racism, and abuse. Will you be nicer than Lovecraft?

Maya: “Well, you did make me Friendly. Could you tell Lovecraft to quit looking at me like a ball of catnip?”

He’s a shmuck. Ignore him. Maya is also Neat and Skittish. Maya: “Right. I’ll just hide under the couch now.”

Inside the house we have…the inside of the house. Shocking. We have all the luxury items including a cheap bed, highly-breakable plumbing, and horrible cable connection.

Lewis browses the newspaper for a job. Lewis: “Local magician dies in tragic ‘trapped-in-water’ act. Noel the Cliché’s

life was sorrowfully cut short when his stage tech ignored his prompt from underwater to bring him up. When police questioned the stage tech, he said, ‘One of my rookies stole my bagel, I had to go beat his ass.’ Oh, look, a job opening for a magician!”

Fabulous. Just don’t go crawling in tanks of water too soon.

Lewis: “*under breath* Of course, when a girl talks to me, I’m in a clown suit.”Could be worse. The Acrobat career has skin-tight leotards.Lewis: “Oh, the humanity. I might as well be a white elephant.” Alas, you’re a polka-dotted, Loserish sim.Lewis: “Don’t make fun of my pain!”Sonoko Lee: “Who the hell are you talking to?”Lewis: “Malevolent forces controlling my existence.”SL: “Right. I’ll just be…going.”Way to go, brainless. Lewis: “Here’s the deal, when I’m talking to women, you stay far out of my love

life.”Your love life is in my control. I birthed you from the confines of a cramped

CAS screen, where I crafted your face and personality from scratch. In a way, I’m your mother and your god.

Lewis: “THE HUMANITY”

Lewis: “Here you see a wand? Just an ordinary wand with no extraordinary capabilities. *tries to change into flowers*”

“*under breath* Um…frick, maybe I forgot to change the batteries.”

“Goddamn this consarned contraption! Humph! *slam*”Should have taken more notes in Transfiguration.

“It’s raining cards! From my hand! Isn’t it magical?”As magical as attempting to hide a deck of cards in your hand and throwing them

everywhere.

“Well, can you reason the appearance of these fine, fresh flowers from my hand?”

It’s a video game.“BELIEVE IN MAGIC YOU MUGGLE”Quit capslocking at me. “I bet my audience is dumbfounded by my abilities.” Right.

Oh, yeah. Those two thousand blades of grass are surely riled up by now. Why don’t you attempt to cut one in half or make one into a whistle?

“But…but…magic.”If I had magic, I wouldn’t be sitting here on a Friday typing this out.

Well, one sim comes over to *cough* appreciate budding talent. Lewis: “Is…THIS your card?”PlaidShirtGuy: “No.”Lewis: “Hah…hah. *shuffles deck* Is…THIS your card?”PSG: “That’s the tag of your suspenders. Groovy threads, BTW.”

Hey, it’s a foreigner. With a rice bowl on her head.Lewis: “Was that a racist joke?”No. It looks like a bowl.RiceBowlLady: “If one points out it’s racist, then the person who said it is

possibly racist.”Lewis: “Which means…we’re all racists because this conversation is control by

one omnipresent being.” PSG: “It means that you’re coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs and need medications.”I love it when mockery becomes mutual.Lewis: “High school must have been fun for you, bully.”Actually, I was quiet and withdrawn because it’s morally detestable to actually

make fun of real life people. Lewis: “Will I ever win an argument? Or a fucking chance of getting this stupid

card trick right?”You’re only on level 1. Pack up and you can cry about it when we get home.

When we return to the homestead, I remember that I’ve forgotten the importance of a scratching post with two cats. Lovecraft wrecks vengeance on the chair.

“With the blades, he sliced through the behemoth’s skin, shredding him until he was a mass of blood and gore.”

Or just a splintered chair.“He also took the moment to aim his trusty blades toward the face of speaking

evil.”Omnipresent, intangible evil. “…goddamnit.”

What is this, Cat Island? Get off the counters!Maya: “Oh, face it. You think it’s adorable.”Eh, can’t argue with that. Though if my cats do it, I’ll be harking up hairballs

myself from all the hair in the food.Lovecraft: “It’s called a vacuum cleaner.”It’s called an electronic razor.

Lovecraft: “I say! Unhand me, cretin!”I know Lovecraft is 19th century literature, but I picture him talking like a

Shakespearean actor. Whatever.“If you had any more hair, I daresay you could go down on all fours and become

one of us.” I thought I’d throw him in some realism. Though chest hair is just disgusting.“Quite. Especially when food gets wadded up in it.” Remind me again why I have talking cats? “Plot.” Oh, right.

Lovecraft: “The servant obediently, yet regretfully, took the young soldier from his cell and threw him into the den with the devil. The soldier gave the snout of the monster a brave, yet recoiling expression as the cruel waters began to splash down from the monsters jowls.”

Jesus, it’s just a bath. I don’t even have a proper bathtub in my house, because it leaks into the basement.

“The waters cascaded around the soldiers paws—er—feet, soaking them through. ‘Alright, let’s wash your earsies.’ the servant declared. The monster agreed with a bellowing gurgle and the torrent of water was released once more.”

What’s wrong now?“I just realized…*sniffle* I have a job, a talent, and a penis but *whine* none of

them are going ANYWHEEERE.” I’d agree with only one out of three.

What’s a depressed nerd to do when he has no plans of partying, socializing, or fornicating? This is a like a look into my own life.

“Maybe you should try getting out of the house.”That requires getting ready. Which I can’t do in one 360, unfortunately.“Shame.”That could be a Mythbusters episode. Jamie and Adam gather forty hot firemen

and time them to see how fast they can get in and out of their gear. “I hardly see how that classifies as a myth. It’s comical mechanics in gameplay.” You have your fantasies, I have my own.“Except I can actually live my fantasies.”…fuck you.

Lewis rolled a want to adopt a cat. I needed the reward points. I sure as hell didn’t need another mouth to feed. But I name his Ransom after Ransom Riggs who wrote Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children. I highly recommend it. Anyway, enough book discussion. KITTY!! WANT!!

That vomit you see is only one of the attributes to owning a cat. The other is that they find the most inconvenient places to sleep.

“I don’t know, she’s kind of like a furry, cute centerpiece.”Well, that’s certainly preferable than finding a cat in my underwear drawer.

“Hello, audience. I am Lewis the Unproven. Prepare to be mystified by wonders beyond the scientifically possible.”

Oh, Lewis. You’re only a level 3—“Silence, please. I will now attempt to shove three swords into the box while this

beautiful lady is inside.” Oh, no. Don’t. You have a long life ahead of you. *eats popcorn*

“If you are faint of heart, I’d suggest turning away now.” I hope you have insurance.

“As you can see, this is a handcrafted sword, completely authentic, no gimmick added, no bending rubber.”

And it looks ridiculously phallic the way you’re holding it.

“And I just knock the third one in here.” He can put swords through women, but he can’t put it in one. *bum da pish*

“Ladies and gentlemen, she is completely unscathed! *whisper* Priscilla, I’m going to need your number and signature on this security waiver.”

Creeper, much?

Lewis rolls up the ranks, his outfits getting less ridiculous. Nothing spectacular happens for a while. I’m saving you the boring shots of him getting up, taking baths, eating, cleaning up cat vomit…

Lovecraft. You have a whole lot of opportunities for sleeping places. I swear, EA totally got cats right.

“The floor is simply too unkind for my fur. I need soft material or I wake up looking like a bog creature.”

*rolls eyes*

Morning, Lewis. “You’ve gone without saying something demeaning for a few days.”You’ve been considerably boring.“Well. I’ve been busy on my career. But I yearn for something.”If it’s another cat, I’m going to drown you.“No, no. See…I’m awkward with women. I need help getting their attention. To

make them like me.”Well, seeing as you don’t have a big house, budget, or penis, you’re going to

have to settle for class B women. “What do you mean I don’t have a big penis?”You have no penis, but that’s not the point. “My whole life has been a lie!!”Oh, bother. At least go feed the cats while you’re having your breakdown. Where

are the little buggers anyway---HOLY FUCKING HELL

MAYA. God, that scared the crap out of me. And not a lot can scare me in video games.

“I’m feeling a bit stretched. Can I have a squeaky toy?”If I can have a beer. Which I can’t. Short answer: No.

“Welcome, audience. Prepare to be mystified. And ladies, prepare to be wooed.”Crikey, we do need to work on your love life.

Also, Ransom and Maya HATE ART.Ransom: “Think you can go without replacing the scratching post for so long?

Take that, Van Gogh wanna-be!” Don’t get a cat if you’re not willing to sacrifice furniture.

When I look back to Lewis at the bar where he performed, he’s riding the bull. I think it’s making you its bitch.

“WOOHOO! Make it another round, bartender! Hey, ladies…like the way I ride this? *wink wink*”

Lord.

Well, you drunken fool, you nearly snapped your jugular. “I can be a party guy. Hey, baby…if you sit on my face, I can guess your weight!

Hahahahaha” Oi vey.

I come back to the house to see a gnome surrounded by newspapers. “Paint me like one of your French girls.”Get the hell off my property. *sell*

Lovecraft: “The soldier sojourned to the softest bit of a grass and lay in the field, watching the stars dance as he slowly fell away from the world.”

Expensive cat bed? No, thanks, I’ll take the weathered newspaper.

Ransom finally aged up and him and Maya got jiggy with it. Maya’s going to have kittens! Why I did I do it when I don’t want more cats? Because I’m addicted to punishment.

I’ve upgraded his stage.“Welcome. I am Lewis the Unproven. Prepare to be mystified.” He’s also a level…5 now?

“I propose a bet.”Oh? Alright, I’ll bite. “If you can’t find me a mate in the next day or so, I get to marry your simself

in.”Denied.“Oh, face it. You can’t deny that you sometimes stare at me when I get out of bed

in the morning. You may have made me a loser, but you made me a hot loser.” You know why people make simselves? So they can have someone of their

image live a fantasy, luxury life! Legacy living isn’t luxury life! Especially not the first generation!

“Well, then. Find me a suitor and you won’t have to worry.”You can’t tell me what to do! I am your deity! RESPECT me!“Could be worse. I could downright ugly and you could forced to birth my ugly

offspring.” Asdfjkl;--FINE. I will find you a mate.

‘Fraid I can only choose the interactions. You have to make them happen.Lewis: “Two women? I think I just gave birth to my stomach.”Priscilla: “Hello, fellow magician. Fine show you gave tonight.”Lewis: “Yeah, thanks. So…youwannagooutsometime?” I’m screwed.

Priscilla: “Sorry?”Lewis: “Um, I was thinking we could…go out for drinks sometime.”Priscilla: “Oh, I don’t drink. Not since the Christmas party at the Bests’ house.”Lewis: “How about dinner?”Priscilla: “Oh. Lewis. I’m married.” Lewis: “Well…well. We could do it on the sly. Just one night. You could give me

a child and the deal will be done and you don’t have to tell anyone.”Foot? Meet mouth!

Priscilla: “Uh…I just remembered. I have important…gun-cleaning to do…”

You did that on purpose.“I didn’t know she was MARRIED. You could have told me.”It’s fun to watch you fail. “So, when do I get to meet your simself?” You really think I’m going to meet that side of the bargain? Grow up.“Face it. I’m a loser. I can’t get anyone. I’ll become an old man that will never

carry on a lineage with his four-hundred cats.”Lewis.“Maybe I’ll leave the house for a bit to get some fresh air. I’ll do my shows and

be too afraid to talk to women. I’ll be that creepy old man in the back of the party eating all the pigs in a blanket getting drunk off the spiked punch.”

ARGH.

“Face it. You so want this.” Wish I was old enough to drink.

“I get to hook up with a simself…I get to hook up with a simself…”

SO. Simself: “I already hate my pixelated existence.”Lewis: “My mouth just went dry. Can’t…function…brain…stopping.”

Well. I’ve got this sim somewhat in my image, but it’s the GODDAMN NOSE. I hate the nose tool in CAS, it’s so limited. You could either have a colossal nose or a tiny little alien nose. It’s aggravating.

Simself: “There are more pressing matters to attend to besides my facial structure, Me.”

Right. She’s I am Good, Insane, a Bookworm, a Virtuoso, and…I can never remember the last one. *opens game*

“You fail at being yourself. Me. Whatever.”I’m confused. Oh, right. I’m Childish.

“Where the hell did you go? I was speaking nonsense!”He has work. Also, my simself is the most elusive in this savegame. I think she

knows what’s up because when I invite her over, she immediately leaves complaining the “outing” (EA, not every fucking invitation is an outing) was boring. When I go to her house, she leaves.

“I know what happens in legacies. I want none of it.”Sorry. I lost a bet. We lost a bet.“*sigh* Can I have a cat?”NO.

“Ladies and gentlemen. I am Lewis the Unproven. Prepare to be mystified. Here you see an ordinary box, nothing snazzy about it. I need a volunteer from the audience.”

“Step into the box, my dear. And that dress is stunning.”Hey, I thought you were semi-dating my simself. “Not officially, shut up Omni-Voice.”

“Abracadiddle piss on a fiddle! Avada Kevadra fondle a candelabra!” O___O

“Voila! She has vanished!”

“And here she is again! Still ravishing as before!”Quit scamming on other women.“Jealous, are we?”Uh…er…quit messing with my brain chemistry!

And singing with monkeys!“Oo ee oo ah ah bing bang walla walla bing bang!”Stop pissing around and go home.

And Maya had a nice little surprise when I got home.

THREE KITTENS. I have to give two of them away, but they’re SO CUTE I’M GONNA DIE. T__T

We kept the one whose name is the coolest (I let the game pick the names since I can’t be wasting author names on cats) and so we have little Pixel. THE CUTE. IT BURNS.

Lewis: “Helloooooo, my sweet intended.”Simself: “Tell me why I shouldn’t starve you to death?”Lewis: “Because you think I’m sexy and want to have my babies?”Lewis, one more slur like that and I strum up fiery death.Lewis: “You won’t kill me. You love me.”=__= I hate it when sims are right.

“A bouquet of roses for you, my love.”THAT FACE.

THE FACE OF TERROR. Forget Chuckie, this could rip your heart out of your chest and feed it to your ass.

I can’t think of witty stuff to stay, so *CORNY NARRATIVE WARNING*

Yet, as Lewis embraced Chelsea in his arms, she felt an immediate release of inhibitions. Her previous objections to this arrangement seem to fall at her buckling feet. The heat of their bodies pressed together in the complete still of the evening, not a sound heard besides their breathing and the occasional sigh.

*record scratch*“YOU! THIN AIR! ALWAYS CONTRADICTING ME!”And then Lewis went in to read a book while my simself argued with herself.

“Ladies and gentlemen—”YES WE GET IT. You’re LEWIS. Move on.“Ahem. As you may notice, I have a new shiny box for you.”

“I will attempt to bury myself alive and escape in under 2 minutes.”Hold on. Let me save my game. *saves* Alright, action.

“Nothing to worry about. I have emergency care in case things get dire. The worst part of it all is getting my vest all dirty.”

*canned laughter*

I’ve heard sims can die from one of the box tricks. I think it was one where the sim was underwater. I’m not brave to find out. He IS my founder. And my soon to be husband.

“And I am here!”Woot woot. Now do a strip tease.“Maybe later.”

Totally irrelevant picture of Maya playing her kitten. SO CUTE.

SimMe prepares a meal for her betrothed. She’s being a stone cold fox, recently. Her and Lewis will teeter totter out of friendship status because all the sudden she doesn’t want to accept Lewis’s advances anymore. Even I’m not THAT bitchy.

They have a nice macaroni and cheese dinner. Lewis: “I was thinking…”SimMe: “Shocking.”Lewis: “Oh, you. I was thinking we could go to Paris sometime. Get away from

the town for a while.”SimMe: “Travel? With you?”Lewis: “Well, you will be my wife.”SimMe: “You sure you don’t want some ditzy blonde? There are some really

easy ones in this town.” Lewis: “You can’t back out of this now.” SimMe: “I didn’t say I wanted to back out it.”Lewis: “Admit it, you love me.”SimMe: “NEVER.”

*BULLRIDING HILARITY SPAM*

“Woohoo! I’d like me some Woohoo! YEEEEHAW!!”

“Yeah, I can last, baby. Don’t underestimate me.”Quit making innuendos. This chapter’s probably already going to be flagged for

inappropriateness.

Need a cigarette?“What can I say? I’m a cheap date.” That’s comforting considering I’m going to be your wife.

It’s the crop circle of newspapers here to bid you adieu because this chapter’s getting too long. Obligatory funny last picture? Maaaybe.

Until next time…Will Chelsea let her boundaries down and accept Lewis as her mate?Will I ever get a real-life boyfriend?Will cars ever run on Jell-O?

Ponderings to be…pondered next time on The PeRuse Chronicles.

Parking: UR DOIN IT WRONG