Days pass with little fanfare. Sycamore continues to cry and emit green fumes from his diaper, and when he doesn’t, Mara and Johnny slip away from the house and work on their many collections.
As Sycamore ages into a toddler, Johnny and Mara sit down to chat.
“He’s cute, but he can’t be heir,” Mara said, putting her newly died hair in her hands. Realizing that her children wouldn’t inherit her blue monstrosity, Mara had leaned her head over the sink and died her hair a vibrant red. It was still ugly, but she knew this way, her toddlers might inherit it.
“I still don’t understand the reasoning behind it.” Johnny said. “Syca is just as fit to be heir as any girl would be.”
“Dada!” Sycamore called, running into the room on unsteady feet. “Ducky!”
“Hello there, boo!” Johnny smiled, picking his son up.
Mara studied Sycamore’s features. For now, he was a cute, chubby toddler. However, she knew that couldn’t – and wouldn’t – last. For now, she could cuddle her son and worry about his less than attractive features later.
“So you’re saying we need to have another child,” Johnny said.
Johnny obliged, and before they knew it, Mara was pregnant again. She continued to work all the way through it while also taking care of Syca. His traits would count towards her legacy points, so she set out to teaching him every skill in the toddler book. Eventually, he could potty by himself and climb stairs (not that they had any in their house, but…). In short, little Syca mastered two skills: imagination and potty.
Again, while at work, Mara felt the familiar pains of labor. She clutched her stomach and waved her hands in the air. She knew there was no rest for the wicked(ly ugly), so she continued to fingerprint suspects and look for new clues. Meanwhile, Johnny went to work and was able to branch off into the comedian portion of entertainer. He met up with Mara at the hospital and had a pre-parental panic, running through the halls and doing a funny little jig.
Mara was surprisingly calm as another baby was lifted from her stomach into the bassinet next to her.
Followed by another one.
And another one.
Brody, Samson, and Archie were born at the same time. One look at them showed they wouldn’t be anything close to identical.
Archie was green.
Perhaps Mara should have named him Elphaba.
As usual, time passed quickly and the triplets aged into toddlers. Forget the terrible twos – these kids are terrible threes. The only benefit of having all three of them is that they can each focus on the other three toddler skills that Sycamore couldn’t master. Brody became quite the chatter box, and Mara (sometimes annoyingly) couldn’t keep him quiet. Archie ran around and danced to the stereo Johnny brought home from work. Samson stacked blocks to increase his thinking skill. All in all, Mara danced around the children happily, teaching them their respective skills.
However, Mara couldn’t shake the image of the triplets from her mind.
They looked like old men.
Chins that jut out unnaturally and long noses marked each boy, not to mention Archie’s phosphorescent skin.
(From left to right: Samson, Brody, & Archie)
While the toddlers continued their work, Sycamore aged into a child. With the help of a randomizer, he was given the goofball trait (just like his father, Mara had mused) along with the ‘Whiz Kid’ aspiration. With his newfound age came a newfound responsibility – increasing the household collection. Mara would send him out nightly to mine all the collectibles he could find.
Meanwhile, Mara paced the floor of their one room home, spinning on her heel and running long fingers through her hair. She had recently died it to red (as she realized that toddlers couldn’t inherit her former striking blue colour).
“What’s wrong?” Johnny asked, stifling a big yawn. He was working late nights at the comedy club while also trying to wrangle three rambunctious toddlers.
“Still no girl.” Mara mumbled.
Johnny sighed before getting up to wrap his wife in a loving embrace. “If it’s that big of a deal, I know a few tricks to ensure it’s a girl.”
Mara sniffled. “Isn’t that illegal?”
Johnny shook his head. “No. I reviewed the legacy rules and it turns out you can use pop music and strawberries to have a girl.”
Mara’s eyes lit up as Johnny pointed a remote at the stereo, turning it to the pop station. Mara sent Sycamore out to collect some strawberries nearby while she and Johnny headed to their bedroom.
Afterward, Mara took a pregnancy test and cheered as the confetti announced she was with child. She ran to tell Johnny just as Syca came in and handed her the fruit. All three of them jumped for joy at the news.
However, there was no rest for the wicked(ly green). Kara continued to head to work, interrogating suspects and quieting down the rebel rousers. She reached level 7 of her career track by working hard and oftentimes staying later than she should have. It was for the best, though – she started taking home 1000 simoleons a day – lots of money considering the bills were 1’200 a week.
It was a calm night at the Ayers’ residence. Mara had a craving for something sugary, so she padded to the fridge and took out a bowl of cereal. There was little time to enjoy the treat before she felt the now very familiar grip of labor pain.
As she left for the hospital, Johnny looked around. They had saved up some money – enough to expand the house. He thought back to how cramped it was having three toddlers side by side, and shuddered at the thought of repeating the process. Thankfully, it just so happened that the triplets had aged up that day. As a surprise for Mara, he reached for his tools and set out to create an expansion. The remaining money was used to add some newer furnishings – a more expensive fridge, stove, and counter-tops along with a more comfortable bed for Johnny and Mara.
Mara practically dropped the newest addition to the family when she saw the family – instead, she let her jaw drop. A bassinet sat in her bedroom as the family crowded around to view the new baby.
Mara’s heart swelled with pride as she turned to her family.
“Her name is Mare.”
Mare was the quietest baby Mara had ever seen. She never cried, never had a stinky diaper, and never needed to be cuddled.
The triplets weren’t as calm. Every night, a strange octopus-like monstrosity would creep out from one of the boy’s beds, terrorizing the three of them. Call it triplet telepathy or just plain stupidity…They were terrified.
The next few days passed with little incident. One day, as Mara peaked over to look at Mare, she sighed. The green hue to her skin was less than desirable, but she was at least a girl. There was that much – if all else failed, her bloodline would continue.
But was another baby needed?