The journey starts beneath the stars...

  Despite the hassle of caring for moody little Cherie, Harry continued his bi-weekly campaign fundraisers at hip clubs. He was shooting quickly up the ranks for his abilities at connecting with the "young folk."

  Cherie was growing quickly, along with her vocal chords- she yelled and cried more than any baby the young couple had, whether she was excited or angry. She was bright and beautiful child, but a significant bother.

  "Are you sure she doesn't have colic or something?" Harry asked during one of Cherie's nightly screaming matches with her dollhouse.

  "No, honey, she's perfectly fine."

  "I was on the Simwebs the other day and I put in 'constant crying' as a symptom and it said-"

  "Stay off the library computer, Harry, from now on."

  One of Harry's main contacts was a well-known pro-athlete and alien rights activist Wally Gwydd. Harry liked his friendly disposition and deep, deep pockets. He had at least twelve kids, one of them a boy around  Cherie's age. Marrying into the Gwydds wouldn't be too hard on the Tempers.

  "So...is Cornell going to boarding school or not?"

  "No, I think we're going to keep him educated locally."

  "Really! We're doing the same with Cherie! They could be friends!"

  "Wow, you really love kids, huh?"

    Olivia learned she was pregnant again while on the shift. She was nervous, but excited.

   Harry's party guests had a tendency to spontaneously play instruments while Cherie was sleeping, then become irritated when she started crying. 

  "I'm just getting tired of it," Olivia confessed to her friend Jo. "Every night. It's hard enough getting good sleep with the baby; this stuff too?"

  "Livi, do what I do. Give up custody. You won't regret it." Jo was constantly on and off with her rockstar girlfriend. "Can you make another one of these for me? It's awesome."

  "Um, thanks, I guess.

  Cherie went from a vocal toddler to a glowering child. She didn't like cake because it was too brightly colored. "Is the new baby gonna be stupid?"

  "What the hell?" Olivia asked, shocked.

  "I mean, it's probably gonna be really stupid."

  "Honey, that's not nice."

  "I hate the new baby."

 Olivia sighed.

  Several weeks later, Olivia rushed out of City Hall while bartending Harry's Politician's Gala, sharp pains in her lower stomach. She gave birth to a healthy baby girl, named Georgia. 

  Cherie thought the new baby was stupid, especially now that it was in her room, no matter how many times her parents explained that there was nowhere else to put Georgia. Georgia, unlike Cherie, was bubbly and even-tempered. 

  She would never touch Cherie for intelligence, though. Despite her mediocre grades, she had a remarkable ability at chess and inhaled books.

  Harry was elected to mayor. The sash was his favorite part. "Gold and blue! With stars! And this white stripe- it's so cool!"

      "I have a big announcement, too," Olivia gushed. "I applied at this Ritz- and they accepted!"

  "Aren't you concerned about their pianist? He always looks so shifty-eyed..."

  "Shut up and be happy for us."

  "Okay!" They kissed, long and hard, as the pianist from the Ritz watched them from the scaffolding.

  Coincidentally, Harry's agent arranged a paid appearance at the Ritz that very night. Harry was never very fond of being publicized this way, but he was still struggling to support Cherie and Georgia. He couldn't refuse. Even if he had the buy the planet's girliest drink, which was most likely chock full of chemicals.

  Harry got home the same time as Cherie, who was out at a playdate.

  "Do you like Georgia more than me, dad?"

  "Cherry, stop asking me that. Of course not."

  "I know you do."

  "I love you both just the same."

 Cherie didn't believe him. She decided to take her revenge the next morning. As furious as Harry was, he didn't punish Cherie- he believed that this whole "evil" thing was a phase that would pass as she mellowed.

  Even so, she did get a lecture that night. She was happy to do chores- Cherie was an unabashed neat freak, and the house was pretty much always in state of disrepair. Harry insisted that this bordered on OCD. Cherie said that he should talk.

  Georgia was starting to look a lot like her dad, but had the enthusiasm and charm of her mother. She loved walking and crawling and talked until she couldn't think of any more words.

Cherie thought that was stupid.

  Cherie had exactly two friends. Ken Halston was her closest. Cherie tried to invent conspiracies against her families with him, but he was too nice and always just shrugged sheepishly. Cherie didn't mind. Ken was a nice foil.

  Olivia was becoming the Ritz's go-to girl. Even so, she was growing weary of the late-night theatrics, slutty Merrick girls showing off to Marina Prattle and Bianca Rubble, the pulsing neon behind her. Despite considering herself eternally useful, Olivia's age was catching up with her. And she was finally sick of the Anne Arbor nightlife.

  Still, she had a passion for mixology, and needed the money badly. So she stayed at the Ritz.

   She was always happy to mix for her husband's constant fundraisers, and sit back to witness the drama. Stefan was upset his son, Damon (second from the right), was chatting up the town harlot-cum-fashion designer. 

  This fundraiser was also a birthday party. Georgia beomes a child, annoying Cherie further. 

  "Listen up: I don't like you," Cherie said, a big smile plastered on her face, "Don't get on my bad side. You'll regret it."

  Georgia was too shocked to speak. Cherie was hostile towards her as a toddler, but never outright cruel. Harry assured her that she would outgrow it.

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Whoo! Long chapter. To summarize, my roll for second gen is:

Couple

3 Kids

Pro Sports

Artist

Perfect Careers

It's so You

I'm about a gen ahead, so I'm already on those goals. Georgia is the heir, of course, because she's just too cute. I love Cherie though, for all her crazy. Harry gets promotions very often, but the family is still saving up for Olivia's bar and a move to their own house (Imma post pics on the forum). There's one more kid to go, but I'm going to send him to boarding school so he won't be heavily featured in this gen. It's really going to be about the girls, particularly Georgia and her relationships.

  Olivia keeps finding out she's pregnant while bartending. Bad girl...

  The title comes from Theophilus London, whose just an amazing lyricist.

Somewhere along the way, my hopefulness turned to sadness

  Harry and Olivia get invited to a party. Unfortunately, they arrived in full-out cocktail gear, and the party turned out to be on a farm, hosted by a rugged firefighters. Undaunted, they greet the Fire Chief warmly.
  "Marissa, how is the pregnancy going?" Harry asked.
  Olivia regretted wearing her best black dress.

 

  Local fashionista Lily-Bo Chique had also attended. Being the most famous person at the event, Harry decided to make conversation with her. "So...um...where do you find such brightly colored clothing?"

  The event turned out to be a lot more fun then the couple had expected. Marissa's husband Qiraq played bass, an instrument no sim could resist dancing to. Olivia partied with the butler. In the end, they only left when the hosts themselves retired.

  The next morning, Olivia tossed some leftover salad for breakfast. Harry lectured her briefly on the free radicals spread by cheap refrigerators, when Olivia set down her fork. "Honey, we need to talk."

  "I'm not being paranoid, it's true!"

  "Not about that free tibetan thing, about something...else."

   Harry took a big bite of his salad. "What?"

  "Didn't the Aponi couple seem happy last night?"

  "Of course they're happy. Do you know what kind of stimulating chemicals firefighter inhale every day? They're babies going to have hair the color of pea soup!"

  "No, it's not that. I mean, they're starting a family, settling down in the suburbs-"

  "We are not moving into a windmill."

   "No." Olivia paused. She decided to cut to the chase. "I want a baby."

  Harry nearly choked. "Liv, I know you want to start a family. But we have nothing in the bank. We have no house of our own. You're bartending at discos, and I'm arguing with secretaries about stray cat infiltrations. And as crucial as preventing wild horses from overrunning our subways is, I'm not going to be making a lot of money for a while."

  "Okay, Harry, but I really want you to think about it."

   "Wait, you can't make a Vera's Glass of Sass?"

  Olivia was tiring of the snobby, juiced-up clients that frequent her counter. The best place she could work at was a garage club on the docks, and she found she preferred to be on the dance floor then behind the counter. Even so, she was rapidly improving and was making solid money every night.

    Though they didn't see much of each other, Olivia and Harry tried to savor their moments together. 

  Harry leaned into Olivia's ear and whispered, "I was talking to my boss this morning."

  "Please, Harry, not today."

  "No, no. She said I need to raise funds for my upcoming election. I was thinking...a fundraiser? At this apartment? You could serve drinks!"

  Olivia smiled playfully. "God, you're just too much, Hares."

  Olivia and Harry were much better hosts than the Aponis, and they stocked their fundraiser with local names such as Marigold Sunbeam and Dr. Damon Blanc. 

  Stefan Blanc grabbed Harry in the kitchen. "Hey, man, nice party. I've got ten thousand to spare. That good?"

  Harry was delighted. "Yeah, yeah, that's great. Say, Stefan, can I ask you something?"

  "Sure."

    "Well, you have three sons, right?" He bit his lip. "How...is it?"

  "Oh, a nightmare. I love those little bastards, though."

  "Thanks. Thanks, Stefan."

  Wally Gwydd washed the Tempers' dishes for them.

   Harry's decision was made for him the next morning. Olivia looked up from the toilet and groaned. She knew that she hadn't had any spoiled food recently. She also knew that her bank account wasn't exactly a picture of health.

  Olivia mulled over how she would tell Harry, but realized that he probably already knew. Harry had a sixth sense about these things. Sure enough, when she told him, he just grabbed her close and kissed her. "I'm so happy," he said, and Olivia believed him.

  She decided to take a break from moonlighting to work on her skills as a mixologist. If they were going to afford this new child, she was going to have to become a lot better at her job.

  Harry assured Olivia that everything would be okay. "I know it may seem sudden, but I got it all planned out. Money will be tight, but we'll get by."

  "What about the bar?" Olivia asked, referring to her longtime goal of owning her own bar. 

  "We'll try, Livi. But nothing's for certain."

  Though she no longer has the energy to go out anymore, Olivia could still entertain guests, like close friend Marlene June, who brought her toddler son along with her. "Oh, he's an angel," Marlene exclaimed, "You'll love having kids.

    Olivia made Marlene a drink at her bar. 

Her skills had improved greatly. 

  Later that afternoon, Harry sucked at being manly, and Olivia had to take her own cab to the hospital while he hyperventilated and ate some waffles.

Cherie Temper was born that night. She was bright and responsive, but also sullen. Little did her parents know she was pure evil.

--------------------------------

Challenge Notes:

Cherie was born Neat and Evil. She'll get Genius when she becomes a child. As interesting a character as she is, she looks just like her mom and doesn't fit my roll. So she's a spare.

My roll:

Couple (again!)

3 kids (again!)

Pro Sports

No Secondary Career

Perfect Careers

It's So You!

It sounds like an easy gen, because all the goals/fun are stuff I already do. I'm not sure whether I want a guy or a girl as my heir, though. I've never done Pro Sports, though, so that'll be fun.

And You'll Be The Girl That I Love

  The new apartment, in the downtown area, was stylish, and spacious, and the design-concious couple furnished the apartment with uselessly attractive furniture such as a guitar and understated flowers.

  One of the more functional objects they purchased was a professional bar. Olivia had nagged Harry for days on end for the big-ticket item, and he had decided to indulge her fantasies. To be frank, she wasn't the most talented of mixologists; most of her creations emanated a strange green stink. But she was confident her charm and good looks would get her a job.

  "This stuff is nasty. They blend it all wrong," Olivia groaned. She had been rejected once again at the Red Lounge, the fifth place she'd tried. "Want some?"

  "I don't drink third-party liquids. Haven't you heard of Anthrax?"

  "C'mon, with how much they charge, I doubt it'll hurt you."

  "What do you think voters will think of you being batshit insane?"

  Harry glared at her. He hadn't been to city hall yet, and he wasn't sure whether he would perform well at his job. Olivia's comment dug deep, and she could tell. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm just annoyed at all these stupid hipster clubs. I mean, what's wrong with me? I'm perfectly capable."

  She glanced at the clock. "Oh, shit, it's almost closing time. Let's see, I spent...$50 on drinks. That's not too bad, is it?"

  "Well, considering you were trying to make money, it's pretty bad."

  "Whatever. I'm tired, let's just go home."

  Harry leaned over to give her a kiss. "You're too good for this place, anyway. Their pianist can't play for shit."

  She laughed. "You're going to be a great politician, Harry."

  "And you're going to be a great bartender."

  "Mixologist, honey, mixologist."

  "Mmmkay."

  The next morning, Harry woke up early and made his way to the bathroom. He was ambitious, and wanted a head start on his speech skills even though he would basically be on paper-pushing duty. 

  The Public Services Building was intimidating, but Harry ran confidently in. Sure enough, he got a low-level job in the City Hall wing. He could tell from his brief interview he would be well-liked as well as he kept his...quirks under wrap. 

  After he got his job, Harry decided to take a congratulatory stroll through the park to meet some locals. Anne Arbor had a reputation as a town for young artists, and it was easy to see why. There were few children and fewer elders, and Harry's put-together suits and slicked back hair stuck out in a crowd. Nevertheless, he had no precautions about introducing himself to an effeminate hippie practicing martial arts near the fountain.

  "Hello, I'm Harry Temper. I'm new in town, and I couldn't help but admire your technique."

  "Welcome, spirit-brother! I am Rain Cloudy, purveyor of organic pomelos to the urban wastelands. I hope you are enjoying Anne Arbor!"

  Wow, Harry thought, This guys even weirder than he looks! "It's a great city. Me and my wife are from Bridgeport- it's horribly designed. This is a much prettier town, don't you think?"

  "Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful!" And with that, Rain Cloudy skipped away, leaving Harry stranded and confused. 

  He turned his attention to a rambunctious clan near the stairway. They had arrived together, and were decidedly odd. The old, flirtatious blue lady seemed particularly off her rocker. 

  He turned his attention to the pierced blonde man the old lady was attempting to court. "Hey, do you need some help?" he asked. This seemed like the sort of person he wanted to be associated with: musical, bohemian.

  "Oh, it's all good. She's my mother-in-law, not quite right up there. Too much partying."

  "Those dark haired boys-"

  "My kids. Ignore them. They're just in a fighting phase." He paused for a second. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

  "No, I'm Harry. Nice to meet you."

  "You new to town?"

  "Yeah."

  The man laughed. "I guessed. Most people here know who I am."

  "Oh?"

  "Name's Stefan Blanc. Like from Blanc-85."

  "Oh, really? My wife loves your work."

  "My wife hates mine. But she just likes classical stuff." He smiled brightly. "I'll see you around."

     Oliva had finally found a job, at an empty sports bar in the basement. She wasn't happy. "How could this place stay in business? There's no one here."

  Harry raised his eyebrows. "I don't think you should say that about somewhere you work."

  "It's only temporary. As soon as the Red Room takes me, I'm outta here." The Red Room was a particularly unhip dive bar on Fifth Street, but it got a lot more traffic then where she currently worked. 

  "Be grateful you at least got a job."

  "You are so unsupportive, Harry." She put her glass on the counter with a sudden clanging sound. "But you have a point. You have a job. I have a job. Do you know what that entails?"

  "Oh, god, please don't say a celebration."

  "A celebration!"

  "Goddamnit, Olivia."

  "C'mon, you could get your name around and stuff. It'll be fuuun..."

  Harry had a hard time saying no to his wife. "Oh fine-"

  They headed out to a cool club on the docks the next night. And it was fun. Olivia was a great dancer, and Harry could almost keep up. Though they spent al the money they'd made in the past two days, it was worth it.

    And, much to Harry's delight, several celebrities were hitting the dance floor that night. One, Beau Merrick, was a vampire, the epitome of cool- if not the most savory character. But Harry held no prejudice as long as it got him some connections. 

  "As a vampire, do you feel as though you are being discriminated against for your species?"

  "I don't know, man, lose the sweater and I'll get back to you."

  That morning, Harry decided to thank Olivia for the night. "Oh, honey, you shouldn't have."

  "Want to eat breakfast together?" Harry asked hopefully. Olivia sighed.

  "I'm sorry, Hares, but I'm working 'till three in the morning at the Red Room. I need to get some sleep."

  Harry looked dejected. As much as he loved his new life, his new schedule left him without much time with his wife. He was out all day at City Hall, getting himself promoted to Ballot Checker and eventually  Assistant, while Olivia was out all night tending bars for petty tips from drunkards. It didn't seem fair.

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Challenge Notes:

The title is from Honney Bunny by the band Girls.

Well, now you REALLY know what the back of Harry's head looks like. Sorry about that. 

Anne Arbor was empty when I downloaded it,   so I populated with my own favorite characters. Rain Cloudy is from a hippy commune on the other side of town, and the Blancs are my previous legacy, in their sixth generation. Stefan is the husband of myfifth gen heir. They are by far the wealthiest family in town. 

  The date at the bar was the social outing for the week. I'm also counting destination parties as "outings" so you'll see a lot of those. 

  Harry and Olivia really don't get much time together. They're always either out, sleeping or skilling. That'll probably be the only conflict for this generation. It's going to be a pretty boring start, so hopefully the next generation will be super dramatic.

A note on Olivia's outfits- she has several: 1. her regular outfit, with the polka-dot pants and derby hat, 2. her work outfit, in a dress and a braided bun, because I thought she should have her hair up and her clothes less summery while she's in all these dive bars, 3. her club outfit, in a top-knot and necklace, and 4. her little black dress, which you haven't seen yet. I don't trust most CC so this is mostly store content. I love fashion, and Olivia makes a great Barbie, lol.