Screwtape and Sheila is so cute together 
I love to see more of them together 
and Sinbad! I want him! Gimme, gimme, gimme 
I need slave some helper in my game too.
Ooohh.... why there so many Sims who passes away. I am sad... R.I.P Wei...
Nice screenie in the end, Trip. It's add more feel to this story.
You'll just have to see what happened between Sheila and Screwtape. In time, anyways.
I don't know why I didn't use the last screenshot in an earlier chapter, but whatever the reason, I'm glad that I saved it for this one.
Oh 
Bye Wei. I have never played him but in your story he seemed really sweet. This sounds insensitive in this context, but wow, Sinbad is hot. I can't believe I never noticed before! Probably because I never saw him with a Trip makeover sculpting before. And of course I was always blinded to anyone but Goodwin. I still thin it's Angelique, by the way which is a brilliant random SP name for the daughter of a guy called Goodwin. Angelique. Brilliant.
Wei was definitely nice to have around, and he's a surprisingly excellent dynasty husband. He made Vega happy and that's always a good thing.
Sinbad is totally hot. I actually kept his default athletic wear, which is what he always sculpted in. Come to think of it, I didn't change much about his wardrobe. The mohawk was a must though; I love mohawks.
I would imagine that finding your favorite sim's enemy to be hot feels strange. Just embrace the dark side.
Angelique is a nice name, definitely one of story progression's better choices. Bethany and Clarissa are nice names too (And having an ABC naming theme for triplets? Couldn't have done better myself!).
Aw, I love the black and white closing photo! It's sad the Wei didn't get to see Vega achieve immortality when she was so close! I like Vega's formal wear at the birthday party, by the way. I don't think I'd noticed that before, but it really brought out the orangish bits in her hair.
I loved her formal wear too; I kept the same motif for her elder formal wear.
It made her ambrosia day a little more depressing, for sure.
As usual, I've been playing my dynasty as opposed to writing updates. I'm officially further than I've ever been in a dynasty! Generation three is a young adult now. And, of course, I have real life sometimes taking over. But I have an update tonight.
---
The time to defeat time itself was upon Vega, far sooner than she imagined. Hours after her husband passed away, Vega had to collect herself. She was close to finishing, after all, but death lingered.
In a moment of quiet reflection, it was just Vega and a stone jaw ready to eat her alive.
Most of her friends were still alive, but for how long? Even Sinbad was close to grey and elderly. She could make new friends with the children of her friends, but that would all pass. It would just be Vega, her family, and two rows of teeth.
It wasn't so much Wei's death that ate at her, but the passage of time itself. Time would eventually leave her with an empty shell of Twinbrook, seven others to remind her of it, and two rows of teeth.
It was her greatest fear.
---
On a fateful day in the mortal world, Vega was vacationing with her family, not too long before she set her mind on a dynasty. Her father was in back, deep in thought while Vega was deep in worry.
“So you're considering spending time with the catatonic plebes out there?” he asked. “Honestly, ladybug, I thought that I raised you better.”
It wasn't the catatonic plebes that attracted Vega to the cause (though she was a little more respectful to them, for sure. It wasn't their fault that they stood around inactive). She was well-read, and the library in The Void was filled with chronicles of other dynasty founders.
Their mission wasn't below her; it actually felt quite noble on the surface. The best stories were of those who succeeded, though they weren't under the power of Vega's kind. They always carried out some mission to help the unwatched sims around them, no matter how small or how unrealized. The dominion that Vega could exercise as a dynasty founder would be tremendous, far greater than anything she could do as the niece of the greatest boss in The Void. And of course, she could live forever too.
She noticed her uncle's glee when someone failed. It happened in the worst of ways to the sons of his two worst enemies: the Graves and the Claviculas. It was common knowledge that her Uncle B did some malicious work in the mortal world to take away the autonomy of unwatched sims, and the promise of being able to undo it was a way to lure in those who needed to be punished. In spite of its shiny veneer, Vega could clearly see the trap that a dynasty was when under the power of her uncle.
However, Vega was the only one who could truly succeed. Would her uncle have the heart to hold her soul for ransom if she failed? She doubted it; he wasn't a bad person in total. No matter what, she held the best chance for being what so many before her failed at. Vega had to realize that she had to be more than a weeping widow; her work was more important than she thought. Between privilege and ambition, there was no way Vega could fail unless she put her head into the stone jaw itself.
Of course, she still had to bear the pains of loss, and the thought of the end; the final steps to take after her great-great-great-great-great grandchild joined them. Those were all very bitter, but the journey was long enough for her heart to become cold to all of it. Vega saw the length of the path, and realized that it was barely tread. There were still lifetimes to live. She could do this, teeth or no teeth.
She was an old lady with no time to spare. Vega ran back home, they key to her immortality waiting for her.
The contractors were told to build a multi-story basement. The first floor was triumphant; a testament to the immortals. Vega saw a wall dedicated to her, and an even longer one to her Screwtape. The rest of the basement was dark and unfinished, though that would change in time.
It was a little more grave one floor below.
The room had red and black walls, and it was quite well-lit. The two food replicators that Wei bought were down there, holding enough memory for sixty plates of ambrosia between them. Vega needed only one for that night. They were interesting machines.
However, maybe as a source of punishment, Vega had to sit down to ambrosia in front of the memorials to her mortals; in image, in remains, or both.
She choked a bit, not expecting for the dish to taste like Sinbad's socks mixed with marshmallows and pears. Or it was too hard to properly swallow while still holding down a sob; it was her husband's cooking after all. The ghost of him still lingered in between fish and fruit.
It wasn't that bad after a while. It was great. The taste shifted to focus on the good parts of sweet life fruit and some sort of custard as the feeling of accomplishment overtook Vega. Ambrosia started to take its course; her heartbeat felt strong in her chest, and the slight fatigue from a late night disappeared. The dish gave her a new energy.
She rose as the first one. She was Vega Ironstar; the matriarch, the alchemist, and from then on, the immortal.
