Reflections from a Legacy Reject

Reject is a strong word. Too strong? I wasn’t rejected so much as never eligible. Wong sex when sex really mattered. For us, the useless and the spares, the legacy is about support. We’re always there, next to the heir.

Childhood

Teenagerdom

Adulthood…and beyond

Being support means being around to help encourage the next generation.

I don’t care what your teacher says, Indigo *is* to a color of the rainbow.

To wait patiently on lookout while your sister tries to clog the drains at all the local shops.

Did she say call out like a robin or a raven if anyone come in here?

To care for the child when everyone else is busy.

Shush, shush – don’t cry. Uncle Michel’s here…wait that sounds weird. Uncle…

It’s not the glamour and fun of the heir. Instead we’re the family members that make it all possible, the cooks, the repairmen, the career enthusiasts who give our lives and dreams to support the legacy.

Another promotion! I’m so close to the top.

As a kid, I wanted to be an international smuggler (even then I was looking at career options we needed). I thought that flying through space in one of grandma Dylan’s rockets sounded exciting. But wishes hold little power against the roll of dice. A culinary aspiration means the culinary career. But I found happiness in cooking for everyone, it’s good story-making time and I know I’m skilled at it.

After the broccoli had convinced the world that steak was healthier, the broccoli lived happily ever after.

My presence in this house is required if we’re to eat. My next personal wish was to become a master mixologiest, but the game won’t let you flip career paths after you’ve passed the halfway mark – at least not without cheating.

So I picked another aspiration. Working out is fun, and if I do it right, I might live long enough to see generation 9…the last generation – my grand niece? I doubt I’ll see 10 except as a ghost.

Three skill points down, seven to go!

That is if I’m able to stay beyond the grave. All our own ghosts are gone, I saw Dylan one last time the other night.

Dylan did I ever tell you you’re my idol?

But now all our graves are silent, even Deshawn’s grave refuses to let his spirit loose again. Harley’s one night of fun was her last.

Being an extra isn’t all terrible though. We spares and siblings snatch our happiness. Perhaps not with the fanfare of a proper legacy wedding. But something twice as sweet.

The game helps out too, it doesn’t understand “legacy” and sometimes it’ll force happiness on you even after you’ve resigned yourself to raising only your sister’s children and never having a full family of your own.

Perhaps it’s not the life I would have chosen. I’m not the heir or even a spare, I don’t get a spin off story, I don’t exist in the gallery to be used for something else, but my points will be a part of this project, my achievements held in those points, that potion, and that aspiration checked off the list. I get to be a part of something bigger than just one sim, even an heir. A piece of this wild experiment. A (probably) successful first try.

I think perhaps, it’s time to follow my dreams. Space – here I come!

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