#also Patchy functions as a servo in game

[thecelestiallegacies]

Rhea was out playing with Spectre when from her peripherals she saw the scarecrow's head tilt like it was watching her. An old pumpkin with a crooked and mischievous smile was certainly worth investigating further.

A few moments had passed in silence with Rhea scanning every detail of the strawman when suddenly the arms waved toward her. Hay flew in all directions from the rocking hands and wrists. Rhea screamed and jumped in reaction and the scarecrow laughed and introduced itself as Patchy.

[failingfae]

Sims 4 Mystical Motherhood Rules

This is just to lay out the rules fully for anyone who wants to do the challenge since I haven’t seen them laid out anywhere else before.

Must give each child two skills that relate to their parent. (Listed below)

Must raise each child from baby to young adult. If child dies before becoming a young adult, start again. If you had twins with the parent, only one child has to make it to young adulthood.

Children must reach level 10 of chosen skill.

Teens must reach level 5 of chosen skills.

Toddlers must reach level 3 of all skills.

Cannot marry during challenge or have a job. (Exception is paranormal investigator.)

Cannot use occult sims multiple times . (Guidry for a ghost cannot work as he functions alone.)

All three sages must be used.

If first matriarch might become an elder before finishing challenge she may have a human child to carry on for her.

Traits of children can be hand picked or randomized.

Occults: Bonehilda, Patchy, Father Winter, Flower Bunny, Ghost, Guidry/ temperance, alien, vampire, Practical Sage, Mischievous Sage, untamed Sage, grim reaper, mermaid, servo, skeleton, plant sim, tragic clown, Yamachan, hermit, bear, possessed sim

Skills:

Bonehilda: handiness, cooking, baking, medium, motor

Patchy: gardening, flower arranging, herbalism, motor

Father winter: charisma, fabrication, singing, social

Flower bunny: charisma, pet training, flower arrangement, creative

Ghost: medium, mischief, logic, mental

Guidry/ temperance: medium, charisma, writing, social

Alien: rocket science, programming, video gaming, mental

Vampire: vampire lore, pipe organ, mixology, mental

Sages: reach level 5 of magic route parent is in, creative

Grim reaper: medium, writing, logic, mental

Mermaid: fitness, wellness, singing, social

Servo: programming, robotics, rocket science, mental

Skeleton: selvadorada culture, archaeology, fitness, motor

Plant sim: gardening, wellness, flower arrangement, motor

Tragic clown: pipe organ, writing, painting, mental

Yamachan: skiiing, snowboarding, mountain climbing, motor

Hermit: herbalism, gardening, wellness, mental

Bear: fitness, cooking, mischief, motor

Possessed sim: mischief, logic, fitness, motor. (Can also complete Strangerville aspiration instead)

If you are playing with mods here’s some extra rules to follow if you want.

Have twins (boy/girl) with every parent

Can force pregnancy

Good luck and tag me if you follow these rules! If I missed any occults feel free to add on.

[anon-e-miss]

Guarded by Shadows 6 (the ficlet previous referred to as Stupid Muse)

Smokescreen was looking up at Prowl when he finished with the alert. He was afraid, his little brave spark was terribly scared. The originator stroked his mechling's small helm and filled his field with reassurance. Bluestreak curled into him, suckling robustedly, benefiting from his originator's open field more than Prowl might have expected. The room really was a mess but there was no time to tidy up. Optimus Prime and Jazz would be up in a matter of kliks and the act of tidying would only distress Skids and Camshaft who had been hard at work on their little fort. He would also have to unlatch Bluestreak and that would leave the newling bawling with hunger.

Prowl made no move to rise from the couch. What few kliks he had to prepare for their arrival, he was better off using them to steady himself. Optimus Prime would not have come with Jazz if the Ops mech was only sharing information on Crosscut or looking for answers. If the Prime was on his way up, there had to be something else. They would not be returning him to Praxus, though that fear did churn in his spark and tactical system, there was no way. Not only were these two good mechanisms, Jazz fiercely loyal, and Optimus Prime a passionate abolitionist, neither would send Prowl and his creations to what would amount to being his death. There had to be something else, and the prospect of the unknown made the tactician very nervous. He fought to keep his field reassuring, to keep his own anxieties locked inside. His creations did not be afraid.

“We have company, mechlings,” Prowl said at last. “Jazz, Smokescreen you did not meet him, but I believe Camshaft told you the story, he is on his way up to speak with me, as is Optimus Prime. You do not need to be afraid of them. They are friends to us.”

“I remember Optimus,” Smokescreen replied, softly. Patchy memories of Tyger Pax must have been coming to the forefront of his processor because the sparkling shivered with fear. “He kept us safe...”

“We are safe here,” the originator promised. But the mood had changed in an instant as Camshaft and Skids sensed their brother’s anxiety. They forgot their game and piled onto the couch, just as their eldest brother slipped down. Camshaft took his place as Skids slid over, lay over him, with his helm in their originator’s lap.

“I’ll answer the door,” his eldest declared, and he marched to the door. That was Smokescreen, he was afraid, and so he was stubbornly determine to face it.

A ping came, a nanoklik later, and Prowl was unexpectedly relief to see it came from Jazz. Really, he had not doubted the security drone, but perhaps he actually had. Without raising a digit he sent a command to the door, and his lock disengaged.  Prowl watched Smokescreen press his servo against the door, and it opened. The defensive protocols engaged within him, and he had to stop himself from bolting up, and lunging for the door, weapon drawn, as he saw the two adult mechs tower over his creation. Before he could call Smokescreen over to him, or address his guests at all, Prowl saw Jazz kneel, and extend his servo to his sparkling.

There was a flutter of something in the Praxian’s spark that he could not explain as the saboteur introduced himself to Smokescreen, treated him like a mature mech, not the sparkling he was. Clearly feeling tickled at this treatment, Smokescreen bounded back into the living room, leading the visitors in. Despite how often he had interacted with the Prime, he seemed that much bigger compared to Smokescreen, compared to all of them. Jazz looked harmless standing next to him, but that would have been a lie. Once again Prowl hesitated. It would have been appropriate to stand, to greet his guests.

“Don’t disturbed the little ones,” Optimus Prime ordered. “They’ve developed so much since I saw them.”

“It is something new every mega-cycle, Sir,” Prowl replied. “Mechlings, you remember Jazz? And Optimus Prime?”

The younger sparklings nodded shyly. Both a little awed and intimidated by the two guests. Even as it occurred to Prowl, Jazz simply dropped crossed legged on the floor, and Optimus Prime, of all the mechanisms followed his lead. Both mech took care not to disturb the fort, and for some reason that mattered so much to Prowl. Smokescreen mimicked their guests and sat at his originator’s peds. Slowly, Camshaft and Skids loosened up, and perked up. They did not leave the couch and Prowl but they sitting up, doorwings swept up in an open posture of curiosity, not sharply pointed in a gesture of fear.

“What can I do for you, Sir?” The Praxian asked. “Jazz?”

“Sorta more what we can do for ya,” Jazz replied.

“There is a family habsuite that’ll be available shortly in the complex on base,” Optimus explained, and Prowl felt his tank twist. “I understand you have concerns about the status of your family being revealed. I respect them, but I think you will be safest, and they will be safest within the base, and known to our brother and sister Autobots. There is a school on base, staffed by Autobots or the kin of enlisted mechanisms, and there are multiple youngling and sparkling centres, all staffed by thoroughly vetted caretakers. They will be guarded, nurtured and safe. You will be safe.”

“Autobots will judge you for allowing me to enlist,” Prowl said, softly. “You will be pressured to put me on leave.”

“I’ve been judged for worse,” the Prime replied. “I won’t bow to pressure. I understand you need to serve your function. The best way for creations to grow happy and healthy is even their originator is.”

“’M in the same complex,” Jazz added. “There are lots o’ young families, plenty o’ single ‘creator families. It’d be easy for ya to put in half-cycles. There’d be plenty o’ sparklings for them to play with. It’d be good for all o’ ya.”

“I wonder who built this fine fortification?” Optimus said.

“We did!” Camshaft exclaimed and he tugged Skids along as he dove off the couch, excited to show off their work. Optimus climbed to his peds, more graceful than a mech his size ought to be.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” The Prime suggested. In that instance, Prowl was completely abandoned by his creations, save Bluestreak, even Smokescreen went over to the fort. The originator’s spark flared. Smokescreen had not felt save to leave his side in ‘cycles.”

“Can ya tell me ya feel safe here?” Jazz asked softly as he sat down on the opposite side of the couch.

“No,” Prowl replied, truthfully.

“I got ‘Raj on the fragger, he ain’t gonna move ‘round Iacon without that mech on his tail,” the Polihexian revealed. “But we both know that ain’t enough. Ya aren’t gonna be able to convince yerself to send Smokescreen back to that school. Ya ain’t gonna be able to walk ‘round this district without lookin’ over ya shoulder. It’s a lousy way to live. We’ll pass it off as a transfer, might even through Crosscut off for a bit if he’s gotten sweet on someone in the school’s office.”

“I hate this,” the Praxian sighed. “I feel like a turbofox chased into a burrow.”

“Burrows are okay, so long as ya got a second exit,” Jazz said. “Complex has plenty. I’ll ya all o’ them... What do ya say, neighbours?”

“Neighbours,” Prowl replied. When all was said and done, there really was no other answer.