Who’s Your Daddy, Nervous Subject?

March 3, 2009 at 12:51 am | Posted in Specter Family | 8 Comments
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Most sims dream of winning the lottery. Oddly enough, Nervous Subject never even dreamed of that. Yet here he was, the winner of a cosmic joke of a lottery and he did not know what he had done to deserve it.

As he sat down on the most comfortable sofa he’d ever sat on (his sofa now) and patted the plush cushions (his cushions now) – he wondered if he ought to pinch himself to find out if he’d wake up. He couldn’t decide if he was in a dream or a nightmare. He was leaning towards a nightmare.

The day the important-looking lawyer went looking for him at the Beaker house had changed his life forever.

“Your mother, Olive Specter, has passed on,” the lawyer had declared without preamble. “And she has left you everything – her house, her name and her fortune. You must come with me. I have strict instructions from your mother to bring you to your new home.”

The Beakers had stared in shock. And Nervous had thought wildly – but there must be a mistake, my mother died a long time ago, why else was I raised at the Orphanage…

But there wasn’t a mistake. The lawyer had shown him the papers: the official letters of transfer of custody to Social Services and a copy of his birth certificate, and there it was, written in official-looking letters – Mother’s name: Olive Thanasia, Father’s name: (left blank), Child’s name: Angeu … (surname shaded out)

His real name was Angeu. How was it even pronounced? he’d wondered. He’d gone by the name Nervous for so long, how was he supposed to answer to Angeu?

He’d traced his fingers on the tiny foot prints on the certificate (his baby footprints) – and his tears had trickled down silently. Who was his father? Why had his mother let him go? Why had she waited until her death to contact him?

The Beakers did not want to let him go at first – and Nervous was surprised but glad that they seemed to care. He wasn’t sure he wanted to leave either. He’d worked for them all his life, straight out of the orphanage, as a live-in house help. He’d never been allowed to go outside, and had been dependent on the Beakers for as long as he could remember.

But the important-looking lawyer had puffed out his chest and threatened to call the police, and so Loki allowed Nervous to gather his meager belongings together. But before Nervous left, Loki took him aside.

But instead of the comforting words Nervous was expecting… “If you tell anyone of what you have seen in my house,” Loki had hissed, “I will hunt you down. So keep your mouth shut and forget everything you’ve seen from the moment you stepped in my home.”

And even though Nervous had no idea what Loki was talking about – he’d nodded, heart pounding in fear – and said yes, he would say nothing to no one.

And so his new life started. The lawyer had tsk tsk’d and said, “Your clothes will not do, Mr Specter – neither will that mohawk. You are now the only surviving Specter and you must look respectable!”

But I am not a Specter, I don’t know who my father is – Nervous had thought, but he was too timid to correct the important-looking lawyer.

After the trip to the barber and the clothes shops, Nervous had looked at himself in the mirror and could not recognize himself.

"Who are you?" - Nervous asked the image in the mirror

He’d started to ask the lawyer about his mother, but the lawyer told him that he had not known Olive Specter personally. “Don’t worry about anything, your cousin Ophelia cannot contest the inheritance. Olive made sure the will could not be contested.”

A cousin? He had a cousin? A warm feeling grew inside Nervous’ chest until the lawyer’s other words registered – this Ophelia would surely hate him, she’d been expecting to inherit everything from Olive of course … and the warmth fled … another hope fading.

Ophelia was away at university and the lawyer told him that he would take care of contacting her about Olive’s death.

When he was alone, Nervous Subject could not help but stare at Olive’s urn – she’d made strict provisions for her body to be cremated and not buried, the lawyer had told him.

He wanted to scream and to bawl and to kick and to shout – WHY???? Why didn’t you come and get me???

But there was no answer. It was still and silent and hushed inside the house. Like a tomb.

The Specter house was grand but unwelcoming. It felt cold and hostile and strangely menacing.

For one, Nervous couldn’t understand why there was a graveyard littered with headstones on the grounds. The lawyer had told him that only Olive Specter and her niece Ophelia Nigmos had lived in the house since the death of Olive’s last husband.

Nervous was now richer and lived more comfortably than he had ever dreamed possible – but paradoxically – living in the house was disturbing to say the least.

Nervous slept on the softest, most expensive bed money could buy (But his mother had lain on the same bed, he thought), and was surrounded by rare paintings and figurines (but all he could think was how his mother must’ve touched and handled these objects …).

Whose portrait is this? he wondered. Could it be his mother's portrait?

She was dead, but Olive Specter still haunted the quiet rooms. And Nervous Subject had no idea who this woman was. But he desperately wished that he did.

As the days passed, Nervous didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t need to work for a living anymore – but he needed some kind of routine or he would go crazy – so even though the lawyer had advised him to hire a butler – he decided to take care of the household chores himself – he cooked his own food, cleaned, mopped up and took out the trash – the routine he’d followed at the Beakers. He tried to avoid looking at the graves when he went outside.

Sometimes, he would forget that he wasn’t working for the Beakers anymore, and set the table for three…

Other times, Nervous would also stare longingly at all the expensive hard-bound books in the book shelf.

He wondered which books Olive loved to read.

He wished that he’d been able to stay in school longer – he could barely read and write. Maybe then, he’d be able to appreciate more than the pictures in the books.

There was a computer in the house, but he did not know how to operate it. The Beakers had computers of course, but he had been forbidden to touch them other than dusting off the monitor. Perhaps next time, he could ask the lawyer to show him how it worked?

The nights were the worst – Nervous would break down and cry bitter tears – he was grieving for a mother he had never known.

He did not know how to deal with this heartache and a self-reproach that somehow, it was his fault that he had not been wanted by his mother, the one sim in this world who should have …



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  1. This post was very engrossing. I love Nervous’ new look, and I love your twist on his story. I’m so glad he’s not still stuck with those two nuts.

    Also, nice way to tie in another entry. I think reusing the pics really works.

    • Thanks for the compliment! I’m glad it worked out – managed to squeeze a story out of a round where nothing really happend 😉

  2. Great post!

    What a confusing time for Nervous! Finding out who his mother is only to also find out she’s dead and has left him everything. His sudden total freedom must be so overwhelming too.

    • Yeah, Nervous went totally emo on me… ha ha … I feel really sorry for him though – all alone in that creepy house.

      In addition, Loki was serious about his warning because Nervous did see a bunch of stuff in the Beaker place, only he didn’t understand what he was seeing… but another sim would (hint for a future post).

  3. I love your take on Nervous’s story! Poor guy, finding out your mother was alive all this time and never contacted you at the same time you find out that she has died. 😦 I like the way you worked the events from the Grunt house into this one!

    • I’m so glad you liked it! You have no idea how much I’m geeking out right now – ha ha – since I’m a huuuge fan of yours.

  4. It was stupid of Nervous to tell the General about his wife. Was he really thinking that Buzz would be glad to hear she is dead? And I am surprised that he wanted to talk to Buck afterwards. Buck is just a child!

    Nervous´ behavior can only be understand because of his unnormal life. He tries to do the best, but he doesn´t know much enough about how people think.

    I hope that the general regrets his brutal reaction and apologizes to him, but I don´t think that he will, even if he regrets.

    By the way: It is sad that it had to be the little Buck to take care of Nervous, despite there were older people (I mean the two adult visitors) around! The shock seeing Buzz beat an innocent man is no excuse for them.

    The Grunt boys are left lonely not only by their father (who can´t help himself) but even by the rest of the inhabitants of Strangetown).
    What a shame!

  5. I just want to hug poor Nervous until his ribs crack!

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