Hey, I finally figured out what/who your profile pic is! Lol
Franco is definitely.....interesting.
I like the romance between Jo and Agnes. It is, for lack of a better word, quite cute.
You'll even see the full image in this next update!
He was a pretty interesting guy.
I think it's cute too!
Oh my word, Julian is adorable!
As for Franco, well...like father like son, I guess...? That is pretty awesome that Bill is alive, but how in the world did he outlive Goodwin? Wow...
I didn't get too many pics of his toddler years, which makes me pretty sad. He was one of the cutest toddlers of the dynasty.
I'd say that Franco is worse than his old man, or better. He has the excuse of being young and hormonal.
To be fair, Goodwin was a little bugged in that regard. He was the same age as Annette, but died about a day after their elder birthdays. But Bill outlived all of the original, non-supernatural adults. He was just very lucky, I supposed.
Julian is sooo cute! I love how he sort of looks like he's scowling, even as a tot!
The backstory continues to shape up and look interesting. No wonder she didn't want to bring her husband back, if she was always into women. And making a move on Agnes? She's got classy taste.
Yeah, he's really angry looking, but it's indeed cute.
I think she likes women who are like herself. Agnes likes vintage things and has blonde hair and grey eyes, just like Jo. It was a recurring theme throughout her life.
Chapter 19: Bon Voyage
Hannah became the central-focus of Franco’s mind. He barely looked at Carmen during art class, using one of her brother’s as a model for portrait drawing instead. He studied alone during study hall, even though she took it the same period. However, Hannah was always invited out to dinner, foosball at The Red Rendezvouz, or on her insistence, a friendly soccer match.
Franco tripped over himself after kicking the ball, though, and Hannah still blocked it. She might have beaten him in that game, but he still loved those lean legs of hers. In fact, he loved all of Hannah's beauty illuminated in the moonlight.
Annette and Bill also liked the nighttime ambiance.
Their like of it left Amy and Shark alone, on the night of Amy’s elder birthday! Annette mentally kicked herself for missing it, like she missed her adult birthday.
“Please don’t cheer. I look like crap,” she told Shark, while Julian played with a doll near her feet.
Amy found her fashion sense on her own, though, so much subtler than whatever she thought was fashion before she met Annette. Crap turned to fabulous and all was right in Amy’s world.
But even with Bill’s shy, flirty eyes, and tolerance of the outdoors for once, things were not right in Annette’s world.
She had a nervous pout when the two of them fished, even as a mighty deathfish tugged on her fishing line, then stole a piece of her bait. After piercing another fresh angelfish with her hook, Annette cast the bait into the water again, hoping for a good bite. Also, Bill finally noticed that something was a little wrong.
“Are you angry at me?” he asked, pouting as nervously as his wife, with his fishing line still untouched. "I always feel bad about the affair."
“Geez, I forgave you years ago,” she said. "Remember that. I'm not letting you die thinking that I haven't forgave you."
“No, not about that. About the garden.”
“I’m trying to keep that at the back of my mind. I’m not angry at you. Maybe just at the world.”
The little indoors garden that the two of them kept was fruitful in a literal sense. Bushels of flame fruit were frozen for baking purposes. She even picked a few deathflowers and kept them in a vase. However, not a single plant bore life fruit and its pale yellow glow and coveted, subtle sweetness. Her few life plants were picky customers and went barren before Annette got a single fruit from them. Time ticked and ticked away for both Annette and Bill, who divied up the gardening tasks between them. She didn’t have much longer to wait. Him? He could pass on at any minute.
She reeled in a deathfish, and an idea. “There are wild life plants in Egypt,” she said, “Maybe we can plan a very late honeymoon.”
“Us, trekking the desert sands at our age?” asked Bill, “Are you trying to kill me?”
“You don’t have to do a thing. I can do it just fine.”
“I guess if you have to. I wanna stay for Franco’s birthday party, though.”
Annette almost forgot about that. In fact, the party was scheduled for later that day. She even baked him a marvelous chocolate cake and invited all his friends and classmates. Including Carmen. As far as she knew, they were sickening and sweet high school sweethearts.
At four in the afternoon, the guests poured in, and Carmen arrived at the curb in her white pants and grey sweatervest. Franco waited in his dark grey suit, eyes severe and Carmen confused.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him, “Shouldn’t you be happy today?”
“I actually don’t think things are going well between us,” he said.
“What? I mean, we’ve been a little distant lately, but I was hoping we could patch things up.”
“No. I will not stand for your narcissism, or those godawful cheekbones, for that matter!” The second comment left Carmen appalled, taking a firm stance in front of Franco. She clenched her fists until her knuckles went pale.
“Well, excuse you. My cheekbones are fantabulous.”
After breaking up with Carmen, Franco was left with nothing else that he needed to accomplish before young adulthood. So with that sense of completion, he stood at the cake with a proud smile. He knew it was delicious devil’s food under there, his favorite.
Plus, the laughter of his parents sounded pretty great, especially that of his father. Thank goodness he was still around. As for Carmen’s cheering ten minutes after their break-up? Well, absolutely unnerving.
While the guests cut the cake, Bill and Annette fled the scene. He went upstairs and shoved a few changes of clothes into a suitcase, as well as a 24-pack of bottled water and some sunscreen for his lily-white skin. Now that Franco was a young adult and he and Annette did their part to celebrate, they had no excuse to not go to Egypt in their last ditch effort for life fruit.
They landed alive and well, anyways.
“There are places indoors,” said Annette, “Like the market, or a beginner’s tomb.”
“Or a tent,” said Bill, retreating to one, zipping it open, and taking a nap inside, snoring like a chainsaw. Ah, typical Bill. He’d be okay.
Annette had bigger plans, and nothing felt cooler than riding a Kenspa through the golden desert sands. The breeze ran through her hair and negated the effects of the hot Egyptian sun.
Her destination was an imposing structure: one of the pyramids. Taller than any building in Twinbrook, a little more golden than the sand, it was like an impenetrable monolith. The door was more than twice her height, and it opened with just a bit of pawing and investigation of its surface.
With little time to spare, Annette stripped down, donned her sunglasses, and dove into the adventure. She dove in with little knowledge of the floorplan or where in the world the life plant could be.
Of course, the entire day was filled with new things, from spending half an hour reading the hieroglyphics on a wall to getting caught in traps to finding treasure. All she came back with was moonstone, one of Sagebear's common finds. Annette spent the day on her bare feet, barefoot on stone floors in temperatures higher than even a Twinbrook summer. The soles of her feet started to burn and turn pink from the heat of the stone and sand, but she left her sandals at the first room of the tomb.
When it was midnight, Annette was hot, thirsty, and exhausted, without any life fruit in her pocket or any clue as to where it could be. Sweaty and drained, she re-traced her steps and exited the pyramids, barely able to keep her balance on the Kenspa. She stumbled into the tent where Bill was still dozing half-asleep and sprawled out right next to him.
“I can’t do this,” she said, in a weak voice.
“But what about your mission? You never gave up on anything else.”
“I’m not giving up. I’m just saying that I’m too old to go tomb-raiding.” Annette grabbed her phone and dialed home.
“Don’t tell me that you’re inviting
him over for this,” said Bill, “This was supposed to be our late honeymoon!” But he was too late.
“Yeah, Shark?” she asked, “I can get you an emergency ticket to Egypt. You gotta do your old aunt a favor.”
Next thing Shark knew, he found himself in Egypt, still wearing a sweater for whatever odd reason he had for that. With his aunt's directions, he found the pyramid.
“Yeah, I can do this,” he told himself.
Most of it was quite easy.
They even grew wildflowers inside the pyramid! How peculiar. But an important bush stood far to his left, with fruit glowing pale yellow hanging from its vine.
His aunt Annette couldn’t thank him enough for it, though Shark was confused when she took the fruit after they got home, just to plant it in a pot.
“I have no idea how long those things were on the vine,” she said, hands dirty with dark potting soil, “And our soil is just fine.”
As it turned out, Franco was able to sort out his fashion sense just fine without his parents at home.
For Annette, there was little she could do, aside from buy a new motorcycle and feel the wind run through her hair and vibration of the loud engine from her seat. The way it roared made her feel pretty young, maybe even enough to make her forget about ambrosia while her life plant was still a sprout.
With all of this travel, I grab my suitcase and follow suit. The next train to Roaring Heights leaves in three hours, after all.
Word Count for this chapter:
1,470Word Count so far:
28,430Annette and Bill's trip to Egypt bugged out before Annette could finish the tomb, so I sent them home and Shark to Egypt separately and that trip went well. And yes, she planted the life fruit at home, in accordance with the rules about homegrown life fruit. I force-grew it with some Green Dragon magic. Cheaty, but legal. Annette and Bill gardened and grew special seeds together ever since her adulthood, but no life fruit came from it.