Two awesome chapters in one day.
I pity Franco. Him and Annette...and eventually Lily and her progeny as well. Being a perpetual elder while you watch your loved ones die off is nothing short of...torture, really. And Franco's more melancholy personality amplifies that.
Hopefully the coming of his grandchild will help lighten things up, if for a few fleeting moments. I can't wait to see the nooboo!
Franco was definitely the worst off of them. He also had the shortest legitimate marriage of the immortals, which made it even worse.
Nooboo coming up! I wanted to show them, so I banged out Chapter 60 in record-time for that.
Awww! Poor Franco. That's one thing about the Immortal Dynasty... losing all the helpers and the spouses each time breaks my heart, whether I'm playing it or whether reading it XD Such a sap for these little pixelated beings! Even when they aren't mine.
Being around mourning people in real life is bad, and characters aren't much better. D:
Chapter 60: Stoneham
It started one summer morning, when the sun beamed bright and hot, and Twinbrook stayed indoors as the humidity approached 100%. The cicadas were as loud as jackhammers, but Lily and Julian didn’t hear or feel a thing in the soundproof, air-conditioned sculpting studio.
To cope with elderhood a little better, Julian acted like a novice sculptor instead.
“Lily, Lily, watch me!” he called, leaning towards the ice block and pressing his tongue to the cold surface, creating an instant bond.
“Ah, I remember you doing that,” Lily said, with a chuckle, “Can’t believe that we’re both getting old now.”
“You’re not old,” Julian said, “You can’t say that until your my age, flower.”
“Well, I’m moving up in life regardless. It makes me feel old!”
“Got some news?”
Lily gave her mostly-flat abdomen a rub. “You better believe I have news.”
After making progress with the sculpture, Lily grabbed some yoghurt from the fridge for a snack, and almost walked into her dad standing in a trance right next to it. Hannah’s death still took a toll on him; his easels sat empty ever since she left, and he wore his everyday clothes instead of his houndstooth trenchcoat. However, he watched television instead of going to the bar, which was an improvement.
“Still getting you down?” Lily asked.
“It’s difficult.”
“And I understand. But, but, but, what if I had some good news to share?”
Franco’s frown turned into…an expression of neutrality. “Alright. What do you have?”
“Take a guess as to why I’m dressing down now.”
His eyes immediately lit up, like the first flash stage lights during the intro song of a concert. His mouth exerted all of its force to curl into a pure, open-mouth smile, and his fists clenched and his body tensed, but in alien excitement.
“I mean, I hope I’m reading this right,” he said, relaxing, “You’re pregnant?”
“You better believe it, dad.”
The two of them gently hugged, with Franco closing his eyes in bliss. All of those green cocktails had a good message after all, about life and a beautiful grandkid to light up said life.
“Your mum would be so proud right now,” Franco said.
“And you know, I think Hannah would be too,” said Lily, “Also, it’s Leisure Day tomorrow. Let’s celebrate. I’ll tell Bronson then.”
Later that night, Hephaestus came home, sapped of energy after his finals, but with enough magic to keep him upright and restless. He got out the pale, maplewood wand that he kept in place with his kilt’s belt and waved it around, until a few green sparks flew out and fluttered towards the floor.
“Are you trying to be me or you?” Lily asked, as she passed by.
“I dunno,” Hephaestus said, “But there is a big disturbance here. Are you possessed, Lily? There’s something else I’m sensing, but it’s very, very quiet.” He pointed the wand towards her tummy, unaware of the news.
“I mean, you could call it that,” Lily said, “Do they still give the ‘woohoo talk’ in schools or not?”
“Yeah, Are you, um, baking a bun?”
“Believe it, Heph.”
“Sweet! I’m getting better at this sensing stuff. Who knows what else I’ll find?” He felt a pull on his arm towards the floorboards, as if his wand was a dowsing rod and a spring of water flowed below the foundation. “Maybe we have something beneath the floors.”
“Or you noticed me vomiting for the past few months and needed to piece the clues together.”
“True, true.”
The next day was Leisure Day, and the cicadas still sung and the heat blazed on at 90 degrees, but the humidity stayed below 90%, which was enough to drive the Waverlys outdoors to the Summer Festival. The whole park was shaded by willows, and felt less like hell and more like its outskirts. And they could scoop themselves a free snow cone if the willows weren’t enough.
Four sims grabbed a few buckets of water balloons and headed to the two plastic barriers for a friendly battle. Franco was among them, even though he was often not in good enough of a mood for chess, let alone a childish water balloon fight. But he delivered the first attack, throwing a balloon directly at Hephaestus. He needed extra help to cool off, considering that he looked outside and said “outerwear!” before getting dressed.
Franco smiled and taunted his opponents with glee. Did he get his hands on a bad elixir?
While the boys and Annette pelted each other with latex sacks of water, Lily practiced her gnubb throwing across the park. A water balloon fight would have likely been harmless, but gnubb was even more harmless because she wasn’t hitting herself with the baton.
“Lily! I need backup. You’re dad’s too happy and into this,” Bronson yelled from the other side of the park, with a balloon aimed at Lily. He threw it, missing most of her but landing on her boots.
“Aw, llamas in a pool! “ Lily cursed, “The boots ain’t waterproof, honey.”
“Nothing wrong with getting wet today. Why don’t you come over here?”
“Why don’t you come over here? I have something to tell you.”
Bronson approached her and shrugged. “So, what’s up?” he asked.
“I want to take it easy,” Lily said, “Because something’s…changing.”
“Got injured on the job? It sucks if that happened.”
“Much better than that. You’re gonna be a dad.”
Bronson finally took notice of her new shirt and long jeans, both loosely-fitted. “Holy crap, really?”
“As sure as I can be.”
“Oh, Lilypad,” he said, dreamily, almost falling onto her for a hug, “I can’t believe we’re gonna be parents.” Bronson then gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“We’ll have a happy household again. You’ve seen that my dad is feeling a lot better now, right? Well, he got the news too. I like seeing him smile.”
“Speaking of Franco, where is he?” They both turned towards the water balloon fight, which turned into a one-on-one between Annette and Hephaestus. Franco was nowhere in the park, not getting a hot dog or a snow cone, not roller skating, and not catching one of the monarch butterflies that swarmed around the fountain.
“Well, Emma, it’s been so long!” Franco said to his friend and distant relative, “I hope that Bronson is treating you well in the military.”
“Man, the jokes in
Scrubs will never get old! And yeah, he hasn’t done anything bad yet,” said Emma, “I’ll be out of work for a bit, though.”
“Suspended a new project?”
“Better.” Emma headed downstairs to the restroom, and came up in a black and pink wraparound sweater and comfortable jeans.
“As I said, much better than that,” said Emma, giving her tummy a rub. “Care to guess who the father is?”
“Not me!” Franco chuckled.
“Congrats! You’re right.”
Franco stayed at The Red Rendezvous with Emma for the rest of the day, to enjoy her company and the musical stylings of Mogwai over the stereo system.
Later, some months later, the two of them enjoyed another outing at the hangout, and Franco met Emma’s date. Dustin Knack was an old friend, and Hannah once had a crush on his dark, puppy-dog eyes and chubby cheeks. But Hephaestus came from a different path, and a different path turned out to be a god choice for Dustin too. Could anyone lure him in like Emma?
Someone did, but that’s for a different time and a different gossip segment.
At least Franco could stay out. The little fetus sapped all of Lily’s energy before the sun set, and for a few hours, she dozed off on the deck, to the choir of crickets and cicadas. The soundtrack of a Twinbrook summer.
Time went on, and Lily grew bigger and bigger. She saw her doctor and implored them to keep the nooboo’s gender a secret, because there was nothing wrong with a surprise.
She also worked out to some Strapping Young Lad, Bronson’s driving, industrial-influenced workout music of choice, squatting lightly but doing nothing that could impact the nooboo too much. It was better than Annette’s likely advice of “drinking is okay right now!”
And, of course, Lily had to make sure that the little one inside bonded with their father before coming out into the world. Bronson’s petition for better hours worked, at least temporarily, as he got a promotion and half a paternity leave. He came home at three in the afternoon, and made sure to greet his developing nooboo unlike he greeted any already-born household member: he actually greeted the nooboo.
“You’re going to be a cute little clone of your daddy!” he said, in baby-talk, “Yes you are!”
“Come on, I’m the one who saw the latest sonogram,” said Lily.
“And?” Bronson asked.
“It’s hard to tell at this stage, but…basically, yeah.”
Bronson settled into being a father before his nooboo was born, in more ways than one.
Hephaestus woke up one morning, after sleeping in his kutte vest and t-shirt, to Bronson in uniform, right down to the beret, and leering over his bed.
“Mr. Curious?” he asked, with a yawn.
“We need to talk seriousness, son,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“
YOU are not to bring your crazy-talk around my nooboo, understand me? You won’t lay a hand on them in some psychotic rage, and best yet, you’ll behave as well as a trained animal because this military strongman will be watching you and isn’t afraid to snap your noodle-arms in half.”
“Okay, okay, your soul seems really out-of-whack right now. Can I try to soothe it?”
“Stay quiet.” The horn to a military van honked, deep and menacing. Bronson ran out, because those rocket designs wouldn’t refine themselves.
Unfortunately, he missed something far more dire than even the military.
“Bronson!” Lily yelled, but he was out the door by then. She heaved and pushed as her body revolted against itself, tensing up and squeezing. Clutching her tummy, Lily went through the list of names.
“Hephaestus!” Another minute. “Dad!” Another two minutes. “Julian?!” Another two minutes. “Gram?” Still no one there.
Lily labored by herself, but no one told her that standing up made it go quicker, because the nooboo arrived before Annette’s 10AM alarm sounded.
The euphoria of loosening the pressure manifested itself in sparkles, dazzling Lily, but not as much as the end result.
It was a girl.
As the sparkling subsided, it was a girl as green as the flesh of a lime, with soft rolls of nooboo fat and a precious smile straight from her dad.
“You darling little peapod,” Lily whispered to her. “Darling little…crap.”
Annette walked into the room at about the time, wondering what the commotion she slept through was. When she first caught sight of the little green caterpillar cradled in Lily’s arms, she had a suggestion.
“Have you named her yet?” Annette asked.
“Well, that’s my problem. We didn’t decide on one.”
“I can see it now,” Annette said, “Tegan!”
“Gram, we’re not from Dragon Valley. I don’t think we are, anyways.”
“Those names belong to everyone. She’s a Tegan. Tegan Stoneham Curious. Doesn’t that flow nicely?”
“I don’t know where you got the Stoneham part from, but I’m not questioning it. We have a name. Our darling little Tegan.”
She could have left the name blank for all Bronson cared. He came home from a workout to not an empty crib by the front door, but one with a fussy little peapod inside of it. He almost cried when he first picked Tegan up, gently cradling her head and holding her close to his chest.
“I’m so sorry I forgot to say hi,” he muttered to her, “I hope you remember. I’m your dad!”
And a good dad he was.
As for Franco, he had the ultimate mood-booster in his arms, and often in his arms, because the Grandpa Card carried a lot of power.
Annette paid attention to little Tegan too, but at first, she jokingly wished that she was a boy. The faintest hints of Bronson’s features came through in her chubby, low cheeks and her widening nose, and those features worked so well on masculine Bronson. Why wouldn’t Annette want a green Bronson around for eternity? She could brag about how good-looking her great-grandson was.
But when Hephaestus came home in his swim trunks and immediately warmed up a bottle for a hungry Tegan, Annette amended her thoughts. He tenderly handled Tegan as if he was a veteran father of seven, and spoke soft words to her.
“I wish they had a boy” quickly turned into “thank goodness they had a girl.”
Word Count for this chapter:
2,111Word Count so far:
97,587As a reminder, Dustin Knack is the son of Julienne and DeAndre Wolfe, and Emma Ball is the vampire-daughter of Gala and Shark Racket.
Tegan is the sim behind the image for my "Chapters" header in the beginning of the thread. I was so, so happy to see that little green slug come out when she was born. Because, well, green sims! They're less boring than pink ones!