Outrun the Scythe: A Tale of Daemons and Immortals (Updated 8/3)

[Trip]

Oh man, I missed so much but it was all so good!!! Heathcliff continues to be the best. Such a little trash fire of a man. I love that he's gotten all lovey with Romeo! Adorable! And I love when sims show personality like that. Got tired of all the meaningless woohoo and wanted to settle down.

You have such a wonderful writing style and I just love the world you are building. Everything feels very real and connected together.

Thank you! Heathcliff and I struck a deal on spouses once I regretted selling Tom's car (that and Matty being a registered architect were great for the house). Bridgeport is so beautiful until you have to go to a different lot. I have a weird system of piling sims into the Motive Mobile, cancelling, and then using the good car to get to the clubs. Truly the only reason I do anything.

I had my misgivings about keeping Heathcliff neurotic trait-wise but it contributes to the tire fire of life...he knows it's going up on flames.

[Chubling]

Ah! So much drama! It all looks great, even if it was a nightmare for you behind the scenes. It's so impressive the amount of work you put into it and it really does show.

I love Romeo and Heathcliff and the drama that is rapidly catching up to them. Heathcliff finally makes a good choice and of course it's for a cop. Maybe he'll figure things out better as time marches on.

Sheila!!!!! I love Heathcliff, but I can't pretend my heart is anywhere but in Moonlight Falls with Sheila. I can't wait to see what had been going on with her. I'm hoping for more lady smooching and hot townies.

I am also very excited for both sets of pollination efforts once they start to pay off. May you avoid too much culling!!

[Trip]

Ah! So much drama! It all looks great, even if it was a nightmare for you behind the scenes. It's so impressive the amount of work you put into it and it really does show.

I love Romeo and Heathcliff and the drama that is rapidly catching up to them. Heathcliff finally makes a good choice and of course it's for a cop. Maybe he'll figure things out better as time marches on.

Sheila!!!!! I love Heathcliff, but I can't pretend my heart is anywhere but in Moonlight Falls with Sheila. I can't wait to see what had been going on with her. I'm hoping for more lady smooching and hot townies.

I am also very excited for both sets of pollination efforts once they start to pay off. May you avoid too much culling!!

The pollination was really slow for a while on Heathcliff's behalf before it exploded but we'll see glimpses of it in Sheila's sleepy lil town. Despite all the tearing-your-hair-out moments with Moonlight Falls I didn't have to deal with babies stuck in apartment buildings.

As much as I'm really excited to kick off Sheila's arc I'm liking how the second batch of Heathcliff chapters are shaping up too. His life has ups and downs but it's nothing forcing a sim cop to have actual hobbies can't fix (there was a lot of misc. nonsense that someone had to handle but I also had two secret pollinators who got very bored between pregnancies so whatever)

[Trip]

🙠 1.5 🙢

“You...you guys can’t stay here! You...you two really don’t want to stay here.” The weird little attic seance aside, I wasn’t scared of the power either of my unwanted guests had. They were both pretty small people. Even gorgeous in some way, too cute to be harmful with green skin or blue hair. My own power as a fledgling immortal was far scarier, and I wasn’t that cute either. “Please get out, for your own safety.”

“As if we don’t know how Moonlight Falls can be at night,” said the woman.

“How long have you been up here for?”

“Oh, ages of course! Looking down longingly at your sculptor’s studio.”

“Well, knock yourselves out. But you need to leave tomorrow, I don't have the time to explain why...I’ll call a shelter.”

Intimidated and unsure of the future, I retreated to my unfinished bedroom with my guitar. Pappy was also missing. Should I put up fliers for his safe return like he’s a dog? I’m sure he’d appreciate the gesture. Despite what happened to our relationship, we still shared a bedroom. I had a side room for him that I was scared to finish.

I decided my new fate in life as a musician, but didn’t know what I wanted it to bring. Did I want to be left alone to focus on my art? Or surrounded by groupies? Because the squatters were the worst groupies I could have asked for. But I wanted Pappy to come back. I needed his opinion on everything that happened. His strange mind tapped into worlds that I couldn’t and perspectives that no one else on Earth considered.

It must have been past midnight. My jam session turned into another nap against the wall. I needed an air mattress in that room, at least. And Pappy bounded in like a wild animal, which of course he still was deep down.

“Wow, we have babes in this house now!” he said. “You can’t just keep that a secret from me. I had to kiss them both.”

“What, the guy too?” I asked Spot, rolling my eyes.

“I think I learned something new about myself. Can’t wait to tell Gladsten…”

Despite everything, Spot and I still fell asleep in each other’s arms. No arguing, just two bisexual people well past their primes. I heard something rattling downstairs. Humming. Lots of simpering from that young man who tried to call this place home. Yes, I was terrible with getting names from them.

But I feared that the overnight stay would bind them to me anyways, unless Barry stepped in.

After having to help Pappy off the floor (the old man needed a real bed), I woke up to the smell of cinnamon and ginger and browned butter. They were some of my favorite smells and everyone else’s too. The wafting scent led me to the kitchen.

“You didn’t tell me that you cooked,” I said to our female guest. “I guess I have to know your name now...to thank you.”

“Carmella. Heavens, I should’ve just said it! I know it would’ve made this more...personal.” She had this posh and pompous voice that I didn't expect from someone on the run, unless she was a rich widow who killed her husband. That would almost garner my respect.

“Well, I personally like being cooked for. I...thought you magic folk didn’t have to do that.” Stories about witches circled around Twinbrook too, but mostly about their unholy acts of revenge and digging up graves. Meanwhile I was more scared that she was a daemon instead. At least all those spooky voodoo stories they told in the swamp stopped scaring me once I realized who I actually lived with. Daemons were harmful, but Voodoo was nothing more than a religion I didn't belong to.

Making food with the wave of a hand seemed so easy for the magical in this town. On the other hand, Bianca would microwave her food backstage like the rest of us.

“That’s not my preferred school of magic, but I’ll sure tell you where the apples came from.”

One plump, red apple appeared in Carmella’s hand, in a cloud of purple haze.

“And they’re good for you?” I asked her.

“I’m not on the run for murder, if that’s what you’re asking. I would die myself if I did such a thing. Anyways, I hope you feel safe enough to eat.”

I shrugged. “It’s how I’d wanna die.”

Carmella invited me to dine with her at the table, but I went over to the painter’s room to eat. Of course, not before passing by the sculptor’s room. She wasn’t lying and finished a clay urn while I was asleep. But I admired sculptors. I never got into the art myself, but I’d watch Uncle Harwood turn stone and ice into masterpieces. That counted as a good memory, right?

Unlike seeing a semi-circle of easels that looked out into the backyard. It made me want to get a new house at first. No one knew that life better than me, but at last I thought I was ready to…tolerate being near an easel again. Since I couldn’t undo the choice. I figured the place would go unused. And for the rules set out to me, I’d just sketch myself as I had done before.

“Hey, you’re not ‘sposed to like painting,” I said, with a mouthful of Carmella’s crepes. Our other guest must have been responsible for the work left on the easels. It was amateur, but must have taken him all night. “No one is.”

“They have to, how does the world get stuff to put in a museum,” he said.

“Pain? I mean, go back in time and ask some serf how his world was built.”

“Wow, I guess you hate painting, I wish I knew that,” he said. “Uh...the hairy guy here told me your name before we made out on the couch. I’m Malcolm.”

“I’ll be sure to remember it.” I did, but not my choice. “Are you guys on the run from something?”

“I got kicked out after I got a neighbor pregnant.” Malcolm didn’t even blink. He had this high and raspy voice that otherwise didn’t betray much emotion. “All my housemates really liked her, and it was my fault.”

“Sounds typical.” But if I acted fast enough, I wouldn’t even have to worry about his story. So I figured that Barry would emerge at night. I spent the rest of the day before work befriending a fly that I then fed to a spider in the corner of the dining room. Time was running out before I got any help.

“What’s all the yellin’ about?” Barry walked into our pristine house covered in dirt (at best) and didn’t even apologize. I wanted to push him out the door until he cleaned off, but he was a pretty big guy.

“Where were you?” I asked him. “And you’re filthy.”

“Diggin’ bodies out of a landslide. You should try it sometime.”

“Well, we got squatters that I may have let stay, and I also just cleaned the floors before you got here...”

“Ya need me to get rid of the squatters? Just call the cops. Then I could dig up bodies in peace and not get dirt on the floor.”

“I don’t know if I can. I know how hard it is to leave an immortal’s hold, and now I feel guilty about being that person. I mean, even if they’re squatters.”

Barry rubbed his chin. “It hasn't been that long. They might have been here when Alicia and Chikashi sold the house, and that wouldn’t make them yours.” I soon realized how much was left out of the rule book. Or perhaps, that Barry actually was fond of me. “Ally could scare them out. What do these vagrants even look like?”

“I mean, one of them’s green. But if you’re red, what does it make her?”

“Weird, I’ll say that,” he said.

Carmella walked by at that moment, in wide-eyed horror. Were we uncovering a dark secret about her that would ruin us all? Was the the daemon I feared all along?

“I won’t stand for this,” she muttered.

With a wave of the wand she kept in her pocket, Barry was spotless. He could take his whole wardrobe to dry cleaning and not look or smell as fresh. The floors were as well. There was nothing left to complain about, which made my life a lot different.

“Well, now that we have that settled, I made dinner. You can have the weird red guy stay for the meal or check out my latest sculptures,” Carmella said.

“So she can do it all?” he asked me.

“Yeah, I had crepes for breakfast all because of her.”

“I’m not gonna make her leave.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Barry didn’t want unnecessary captives any more than I did. He was ready to have his daughter do her worst, whatever that could be. “But what about the other one? She came with this blue-haired guy who actually likes painting.”

“Couldn’t have done it better myself,” said Barry.

“You know, I told myself that I liked painting once too,” I said.

“You weren’t wrong, Vega was.” He took a deep sniff of the air. “Are those ‘shrooms?”

“It’s this steamed chicken and mushroom disk she loves to make.” And I loved to eat even more. Tender, bone-in chicken pieces with shiitake and mu’er mushrooms and oyster sauce all steamed together. Yes, it was a dish that Screwtape cooked too, and his dad’s favorite. But I could look into someone else’s eyes while eating it in this lifetime.

The five of us, including Barry, still had a lot of trouble talking to each other. Spot couldn’t even sit down because Barry’s presence drove him mad. I didn’t disagree but it was a madness I needed now.

“Red and green, two opposing forces in our own dining room!”

“Calm down fido, it’s not that deep,” said Barry.

He stayed to talk with Carmella for a while longer while she cleaned the dishes. I tried not to listen but Barry mentioned my past and to go easy on me. It was a little insulting, but my whole life was a cascade of that. He gave me his number afterwards so I didn’t have to kill to summon him. As it turned out, he spent a lot of his time on Earth with his daughter, which he wanted to do that night.

But me? The theatre was having a late concert. The commute there was short and merciful, but I’d be there past midnight plugging in amplifiers and cleaning beer cans off the floor.

I got a lot of messages from her while I was working. Carmella admitted to sleeping in short bursts, with magic keeping her restless. She must have passed that over to Malcolm, who was frantic about a leak under the sink.

Honey, there was always a leak under the sink.

Carmella also invited me to a seance in the attic. Clearly, something she was used to. She assured me that it was simple and we’d most likely reach no one. I didn’t believe in seances at all, actually. Countless ones had to have happened when I was dead, but the only person who could summon me to Earth was Barry. And all he had to do was grab me out of a well with his magic red hands.

But I agreed regardless. I was scared but curious, especially since half the town was witches anyways. Maybe Bianca would tell me that Carmella was a total hack anyways, and that her skin was green due to copper poisoning. She'd show me a ghost in the attic and I'd chide her for being a cruel person.

“There’s been an unusual presence in Moonlight Falls recently,” said Carmella, as we sat cross-legged around her magic circle. “Oh, we’ve always gotten spirits, even malevolent ones, but this one is...how shall I say it? Good and turbulent and unfamiliar. She died young and is searching for something.”

“And you’re just gonna invite her into our house?” I asked. Now I was thankful that I never got summoned. Some bratty teenager could have tormented me.

“Not really. Most spirits fade fast. Or I’ll keep her in a jar here, I don’t think you’ll notice that either.”

“You know, I was dead once too. Like dead for twenty years dead. This ain’t how it works.”

“Your red friend and I are very different,” she said. “He keeps a select few souls around forever and I mess with the ones who will disappear into the aether a day later. And there are far more of them.”

“So you’re not a daemon?”

“I think I’ve made it clear. Not that I know of. There are certainly many ways to be born green, consider the faire folk…”

Before I could gain full confidence in Carmella, she raised her hands above the circle. Light danced from her fingertips. “To the golden spirit who’s been following me around, I ask…”

She expected to ask questions to a nebulous cloud of soul dust. But I saw the hands of this ghost emerge before even Carmella did.

She was so…real. A cloud of vivid gold and youth shaped into a woman. She rose out of the floor in a spectacle, mouth open and screaming. We both backed away but I was mesmerized. I thought I’d go blind from the light coming off her.

“Woah, you guys got an attic?” The ghost was dizzy from her ascent here. The only thing that offended me was that she died wearing bell-bottoms. Who allowed for such an indignity anyways? Even Vega would find that cruel.

I admired her long hair though, and a large nose that belonged on a Greek statue. I felt so ugly by comparison and sickened by it. But letting her be a temporary guest? If I made Spot permanent, why would I pass this one up? Surely this wasn’t the angle that Vega was operating from. I was different, and this ghost was too.

“You can see her, right?”

“Yeah, that’s so rare,” said Carmella.

“The name’s Violet, can I crash here for a few days?” she asked us.

“Please, stay as long as you want,” I said, batting my eyelashes.

She immediately crashed on the couch. I watched Violet fall asleep, which was something ghosts could do. I never felt that as an urge in my time as one, but something was special about Violet. Everyone could see her and hear her and feel her molten warmth. But me? I had to have felt it the most. She was almost too beautiful to approach. And they just let her come into this world! Into my house! When I knew those agents of death better than a lot of people.

If nothing else, I’d be a good hostess.

Barry’s number was still in my phone. I didn’t have a reason to call him until this. I wondered if he knew about Violet, but it was just as likely that he didn’t. Other red men existed in this strange universe too, I still wondered how Cara's dad was doing.

“Hey there...Barry...I think things are going well, and I’m getting along with people for once.” I chuckled a bit after that.

“...anyways we, and by we I mean Carmella, we summoned a ghost to the house. She’s really nice though, and now I hope she’s supposed to be here. I’ve messed with your world enough...right? Call me back at my number, but we’ll live until you can. Peace, Sheila.”

[Chubling]

WHAT EXCELLENT TASTE YOU HAVE IN HOUSE MEMBERS! It'll be fun to see how strong Carmella's genes are in your save. They both make such gorgeous kids, truly not even Gladstone could ruin it. It's best he keeps the pool free of his genes with Pappy.

I'm rooting for the three hot ladies to smooch and I shall believe in it happening regardless of anything you say.

You really are a wonderful writer and the characters come alive under your pen (keys?). You give them such personality and you make it seem effortless and I applaud your skill!

[mpart]

I'm so happy to see this story back! Not only is the writing wonderful, but the screenshots and poses are stunning. Every time I look at them I get a bit of anxiety thinking about the fight you add with blender and the sims 3. I also understand what you mean about the lighting. I remember running into that issue a few times too. Pretty sure it just drove me mad. Anyways, I'm rooting for Heathcliff and Romeo. They are adorable together and even though Heathcliff is a bit naive, I wish him a happy immortality. Not to keep rambling on here but I find it hilarious how Shiela just seemed to..adopt a bunch of people squatting at her house and they adopted her too. It feels fitting. I'm looking forward to the next chapter!

[Trip]

WHAT EXCELLENT TASTE YOU HAVE IN HOUSE MEMBERS! It'll be fun to see how strong Carmella's genes are in your save. They both make such gorgeous kids, truly not even Gladstone could ruin it. It's best he keeps the pool free of his genes with Pappy.

I'm rooting for the three hot ladies to smooch and I shall believe in it happening regardless of anything you say.

You really are a wonderful writer and the characters come alive under your pen (keys?). You give them such personality and you make it seem effortless and I applaud your skill!

Gladsten's still living in the save too! Just not as part of my household at the moment. I kept Pappy's Heartbreaker LTW so he was an easy notch in that belt so to speak. (Yes Sheila, Carmella, Malcolm, and another pollinator helped out too. Violet exercised good taste instead)

Not like it affects official dynasty play (or even the current save file since everyone's so old and set in their ways) but someone released a polyamory mod for TS3 and oh my goooooddddddddd finally. (the game's mechanics are forever kinda limiting but it's probably the best attempt at it we'll get! And IMO any mod that makes it to the main MTS site is probably appropriate enough to post here)

I'm so happy to see this story back! Not only is the writing wonderful, but the screenshots and poses are stunning. Every time I look at them I get a bit of anxiety thinking about the fight you add with blender and the sims 3. I also understand what you mean about the lighting. I remember running into that issue a few times too. Pretty sure it just drove me mad. Anyways, I'm rooting for Heathcliff and Romeo. They are adorable together and even though Heathcliff is a bit naive, I wish him a happy immortality. Not to keep rambling on here but I find it hilarious how Shiela just seemed to..adopt a bunch of people squatting at her house and they adopted her too. It feels fitting. I'm looking forward to the next chapter!

Usually Blender's only battle is with my attention span. And things would have gone differently for Sheila if she wasn't blinded by lust real true love for sure.

[Trip]

🙠 1.6 🙢

“You know, people usually pay money to live in a haunted house,” said Bianca. Every day at work and afterwards, I couldn’t stop talking about Violet. Or guitar care. Moonlight Falls was a damp town like Twinbrook, so I was used to it, but an instrument made of wood wasn’t. Couldn’t be too dry, couldn’t be too moist...

“I’d pay her to stay. But I don’t believe in bribing for love.” We started to walk towards the parking lot. Or for me, the one street home.

“Yeah, but will you give me a fiver to kiss you? I wanna get a drink later,” she said.

It was a deal. But Violet and I were going to be exclusive one day. I was tired of getting the second pick on everything in life, like with letting Screwtape take the top bunk when we were kids. At least his dad stepped in and got us separate beds after that. Plus, Violet could have understood me better than anyone else in the town. I had a lot more sympathy for her story as well. Not to ask a woman her age, but she died before experiencing anything of note. No marriage, no family, but she was able to get a copy of her college diploma. She majored in biology in a different time, and I took note of the year.

Violet must have perished not long before I was born. And the world had changed a lot since then.

“Do you need a ride?” I asked Bianca.

“Nah, I think my sister and the new beau are here. Hey sis! Come up for air once will ya?”

“What the hell, Bianca?” Belinda had a face full of her new beau, who to my shock, was another ghost. This one was a shimmering indigo though, not gold or silver. It was hard for me to understand as a former ghost. I never felt like I could be on Earth for long without sinking into the ground. But he was living a normal life, dating a witch.

“Yeah, we summoned Samuel last month. Dude lived here eons ago with his wife and niece until he got poisoned at a dinner party...guess I should’ve warned you guys,” she said.

“I wish you guys worked your magic sooner.”

Bianca smiled. “But then you wouldn’t be here right now. Or you’d be going through menopause like Helen will.”

“I’m still not used to going through the monthlies again,” I said. I forgot that I was in a lot of pain from them when I was a “growing woman” the first time around. And even having Marco didn’t help it much.

I was trying to put thoughts of kids out of my mind. It would have to happen eventually, and I loved kids! But it felt too soon to replace my son.

Helen made it a little harder. She had just gotten back from maternity leave, and was an older woman, to put it lightly. But her ovaries’ last gasp of life made my own story go full circle.

If nothing else, Malcolm was an alright father. The only story about how they met was that he lived close to her and was a hormonal young man. Anyways, he tried to visit Helen’s creepy old house a few times a week to watch Arlene for her. He would paint her and dote on her and then forget about her the rest of the time. So maybe not father of the year, but it sounded better than how Screwtape raised his illegitimate daughter.

And as for Pappy, he was lucky I took him in before any of his exes could enact revenge. I got the sob stories about Gladsten and Linda breaking up with him. He even had twins with Linda and a son with the Caliente hag. Malcolm would have to work hard to beat the crazy old dog.

As far as I was concerned, Carmella had no such reason for being a vagrant and was a far-better behaved housemate than either man. She alluded to getting kicked out of a coven, which sounded more like their problem than hers. She was a brilliant witch. Brilliant at everything she touched. But it was a fierce race between her and Violet.

The first thing to know about the house is that it came huge and furnished. There were doors I didn’t open because the knob got stuck. But enter Violet: a ghost. We could all see her beautiful human-like form but she could still pass through walls.

She was the first to find the “magic room” upstairs. It was full of alchemy equipment and a note from Barry’s daughter for the first person who unlocked the room. Violet opened it for the rest of us from the inside after we pounded on the door enough. She immediately went to mixing potions.

I was in awe, but so was Violet. “Wow,” she said. “It’s like y’all knew I studied and died from this.” Perhaps any fear disappeared now that she was dead.

“With a bio degree and everything?” I asked. She nodded.

Violet let a blue potion stream into a glass bottle. I knew I had seen it somewhere; this was Vega’s preferred dark art too. Bianca and her sisters had a similar setup at their house. Those potions could do tremendous good, after all, curing the hungry and the wounded and the weary. Vega preferred installing fake joy or keeping out the neighbors with unpleasant elixirs. One caused the pain of a hundred bee stings, complete with the venom. My mum was allergic to bees.

“Here, when you can’t sleep after a show or somethin’.” I cherished the gift box she gave me. I didn’t know what I could get for Violet, though. There wasn’t anything she could stuff in her pockets, after all. They didn’t exist any more.

“Have you ever changed your clothes?” I asked. “You know, I died in a cocktail dress and stayed in it for years. I really should have tried a crop top or those big jeans that everyone wore when I was born.”

“Ya know, I think you’re right. I need a hat.” said Violet. She opened the wardrobe in the corner of the room and disappeared inside for a split second.

Violet chose the grunge throwback that I wished Cara helped me pick out, mostly for the beanie that failed to contain Violet’s flowing locks. It wasn't a huge change but the hat was an excellent idea. No wonder I thought Violet was so brilliant. What else could that beautiful spirit do? Could she cut her hair in an instant? Do plastic surgery on herself? Not that I wanted anything to change, especially that nose.

“You look amazing!” I said. “I mean, I’d say the same if you didn’t change, it was just that no one told me that…”

“I’m learning all this too,” said Violet. “Anyways, I gotta tell Olivia about it tonight. She’ll flip her lid!”

“Olivia?”

So Moonlight Falls had a plague of ghosts. I wasn’t special, and Violet was special only for being the best of them. This one went back to the Samuel that Belinda was dating too. After one encounter with him, I regretted that he was the lynchpin of this ghostly society. He was nuttier than Spot by leaps and bounds. And I made Spot sleep in his own room so I could get an escape from it.

Enter Olivia, the dead ex-wife of Samuel who had a lot of time to question her marriage and sexuality. She was taking out electronics to sell after Samuel’s untimely poisoning and exposed wiring killed her. Unlike Violet or even Samuel, I had no idea who actually wanted Olivia back.

“Sheila? I heard she’s from Twinbrook and smells like it too…”

I won’t doubt that Violet was fond of her. Alone with only ghosts and the creaky old floorboards of their haunted house, maybe Olivia was a nice person. Or had great moves in bed. Or had a mind attuned to the sciences like Violet. But she was a nasty spirit, even if I considered that she died as a young gold-digger. Olivia never had a good word to say to me and was annoyed with everything I did.

Also, it was worth noting that she haunted Helen's house and hated baby Arlene. Hated that kid to the point where she couldn't shut up about it. Surely Violet didn't agree. She radiated nothing but sunshine and rainbows (of the gay kind of course) and her patience would run thin. So I decided to try and win her over and play the waiting game.

And if that didn't work, Bianca said she'd marry me if we were both 40 and single.

Anyways, inviting Olivia's ex-husband Samuel to our housewarming party was a disaster. Olivia cheered, and Violet wouldn’t tell me what he did to her to deserve that. But I take back my criticisms of Samuel; he gave us two new mattresses. No one goes that far for a housewarming. He’d probably be amazing around the holidays then.

“I…might have my regrets about meddling with the spirit world now,” said Carmella, leaning on a wheelbarrow. Violet was the one who tamed our greenhouse, of course, but Carmella still went in there to pick herbs for dinners and spells.

But me? I had no excuse. Just waiting for Violet to finish with her nap or potions or knitting. She got into making socks that she couldn’t wear.

“Hmm, I keep wondering what else I can dig up from it.”

“Heavens, all that’s left are rich assholes like Samuel!”

“And we’re not?”

Carmella huffed. “We’re only rich, and less than you think with my pitiful credit.” She stuffed some coriander into her overalls' pocket. “Well, I think you’d have a lot of fun cooking with me one night than staying in this stuffy old greenhouse.”

“Maybe if you make some Tom Yum soup?”

“I’ll put that one on the list.”

Thankfully, Violet was on her way to rescue me from being alone with plants I didn’t understand. And that couldn’t make Carmella too angry. I tried to treat my housemates as equals.

Since she was a slow-moving spirit, Violet liked me to water the plants so she wouldn’t have to float around in circles. But she wouldn’t let me install a sprinkler system in the greenhouse either, since the plants needed individual care. I was always impressed by the detail to her craft and equally confused.

“Hey, you know how I promised to show you ‘round this town?” Violet asked me. We snacked on a few too many greenhouse tomatoes and berries and I was in too much of a reverie to remember.

“Oh Violet, you know I’d always go along with that.”

We would take a stroll along the river and then get some beers, right before I had a solo show at the bar too. It would be a slow walk to compensate for her being a ghost, after all. She was able to absorb the flavors of life in a way that I never got the chance to as a ghost. But I could vicariously live (or die?) through Violet much better than I could be with her.

“So how’s life with Olivia?” I asked as we started our journey.

“Meh, we can talk ‘bout other things,” she said.

I questioned her while we soaked up the afternoon sun of Moonlight Falls’ dry season. Of course, I had to make it subtle while yelling over the roaring river beneath us. Violet was always scant on the details of her past life, but I forgave that, since it was so long ago. For me, it was more recent. A lot of people from my first life were alive when I came back, so I got plenty of painful reminders.

“You know, there’s something about dying old that’s so much different from what you went through,” I said to her.

“Yeah? I bet. You don’t say much ‘bout that either,” Violet said.

“Because it hurts. I felt like I wasted all my years, and I also forgot how tight my skin used to be.”

“I like hiding under here,” she said. “Beats not getting to know any town because your dad’s truck has to, you know, move stuff and you live in the back.”

“Oh...I never traveled like that.”

“Man, that was my whole life! Traveling ‘round because my mum left us in the dust, having my cousin complain about summers with us, no friends, poopin’ on the sides of highways...”

“...campfires and gas station hot dogs all year?”

“Woah, yeah, I miss those already.”

I wondered if anyone would know what I looked like if they saw me only as a ghost. Violet said she used to have tawny brown skin and a scar on her face from her cousin pushing her down a steep hill. She loved to hike and press flowers when she had the time, and she collected flowers from all 50 states that they traveled through. Her favorites were the mountain laurels from the northeast, which disappeared after a week of flowering.

The artist in me started to paint in my head: the young Violet against a background of blurry green, and some off-white spots for the Slymer family truck and caravan. Her father, while dear to her, was on the road and keeping stores stocked with him big 18-wheeler truck. His family had been nomads and travelers for hundreds of years, but he turned it into a job.

Sometime afterwards, she would finish university.

“You know, the University of Deseret rejected me,” I said, remembering the sandy hue of her diploma. “You must be smarter than most people assume.”

“Nah, I think my mum bribed them with gold,” said Violet.

“Did she trade all her cash for it?”

“Yeah, probably.”

This loneliness seemed to follow Violet around for a lot of her life. Even at a real school for the first time, she never had a roommate or at least couldn’t keep one. Nothing involved friends, only a cousin popping in every now and again, who seemed to improve after pushing her down a hill. She would meekly watch Violet mix potions from the sidelines. It was hard to fit her into my thoughts though. Sad that she mattered more to Violet than to me.

There was a soft edge to Violet. It took longer than expected for her to finish her degree, between having to accompany her nomadic family or getting busted for tampering with plants at the greenhouse. They said “stealing” but Violet insisted it was authorized work that the dean changed his mind on. So I pictured her in the dead of the night, judged for her studiousness.

“You know, the lab downtown is hiring,” I said to Violet. “I think you’d be a good fit.”

“C’mon, I’m dead, I don’t get any special privileges for that.”

“The undead are a protected class here too...believe me, I looked it up.”

“Huh...hey, lookit that. Some knucklehead bought up my great-grandma’s wagon.”

I was familiar with the town’s colorful wagon, which housed a fortune teller that everyone knew was fake. She was fake enough to get her own TV show about it. But it brought money into the town, so the topic never came up at town meetings. Yet Moonlight Falls must have had real clairvoyants who didn’t exploit their powers for cash. They had everything else, after all.

“It’s a real Slymer family antique?”

“Yeah, they’ve had to have gutted it by now,” Violet said. “I guess it’s better than keeping the shed I died in. I...yup, it’s gone.”

“Right here?”

“Yeah, my aunt’s caravan parked here for the summer and I got in way over my head with that gold thing…”

It was hard not to wonder about the sacrifices we made for discovery. What Violet discovered was how to turn ordinary items into gold, for currency and art and technology alike. And going mad with power is what backfired, taking her life in the process. For a bit I pictured Violet as being chased by jealous witches, but that part of the doodle was erased.

She always worked alone, waiting for the right time to reveal her secrets to the world. I hated to think that she died alone. Not even I could manage that.

But maybe her cousin was watching. I got to go back to a world with my family in it, but Violet didn’t. That cousin had to be gone, bearing a secret about gold that she would never tell the world.

There’s this monument in Russia to the lab rats who gave their lives for science. If we didn’t summon Violet back to Earth on that fateful day, there would be no monument to her.

“Hey there man, I’m just happy to be alive again, more time for learnin’ and beer,” said Violet, taking my hands. “Oh, and my eyes were green, everyone's shocked when they learn that one.”

“Well, the bar’s on that street across the bridge,” I said.

“Wanna see a cool magic trick instead?”

Violet could float and hold me precariously over the water. It wasn’t a fast flight at all, but she didn’t flinch with me in her grasp. My heart raced when I looked down at the rapids.

And looking up at Violet didn’t help me either. But I could get used to traveling with her. It beat cars, bikes, and trailers for sure. I bet Olivia was so jealous of me. I bet she had to float everywhere on her own or get tormented by her ex-husband’s presence.

I bought Violet a beer before the show. She hadn’t had one since the night before she died, since she was still trying to get her bearings in the world. That was smart. I hit the wine right after being resurrected just to cope with everything and feel something on my tongue again. But it made my whole marriage with Heath into a blur. I must have I worried him every day…

“Thanks for spending the day with me,” I said, taking a seat next to Violet. “It was very special.”

“Yeah, what if I have a job next week? Then we can’t do this again all day.”

“But we live together.”

“We live with a bunch of strangers.”

“I can fix that...isn’t that what today’s been all about?”

“I don’t think Carmella likes me,” said Violet. She shrugged. “But I can’t let it get under my skin, ‘cuz I don’t have any left!”

I started to reach around Violet’s shoulder. Skin or no skin I knew she felt smooth now. It was like the starch and water slurry they made you play with in middle school science. Solid yet liquid, smooth yet textured. Maybe the last one was a metaphor. I pretended to feel the cotton of Violet’s shirt on my palm.

“Ya know, this place used to be groddy as hell,” said Violet. I understood. The seats were new and comfortable, they had central heating and AC, and the potted plants were alive. “I heard they brewed this beer themselves? That’s trippy.”

“You missed the craft beer renaissance?” I had so much to catch Violet up on, from hazy IPAs to candy-flavored stouts. The world went nuts with those when I became a legal adult. “We have so much to catch you up on.”

We were sitting almost nose-to-nose while I caught Violet up on beer and movies. I complained about the deluge of superhero movies and the death of practical effects when I was alive, but it was a novelty to her. Clips on my phone? Even more madness. Her dad had a satellite phone and a radio system in his truck, but a cellphone wasn’t his thing. Even her snobby cousin didn’t like them.

Violet asked if The Simpsons was still on the air, and regretfully, it had more longevity than she did. That was the reason we drank so much that night.

I slurred my words when I had to get up to the mic. “How’dya do moonies?” I said, loud enough for the whole bar to hear. “I...I can still play this geeeeeetar just fine.”

Music and speech use different parts of your brain, so I wasn’t wrong.

It was a good show. I could see Violet and Olivia the whole time. This was the sort of place that disgusted Olivia, but she would do anything to rub Violet in my face. I decided to play it cool. For once, there was a backup plan. Even several before I shrugged and married Bianca for the tax benefits.

[Chubling]

A THREE WAY WOULD SOLVE THE PROBLEMS BETWEEN CARMELLA AND VIOLET PROBLEMS! Just saying!

I love all this glorious gay drama. Ah the joys of tiny dating pools where everyone has or is currently dating everyone. Poor Sheila, always has to watch jealously from the side. I hope she gets to be someone's first pick this time around. She seems so confused with how to be loved back.

You continue to be a wonderful writer and I am deeply invested in all the drama in both dynasties

[Trip]

A THREE WAY WOULD SOLVE THE PROBLEMS BETWEEN CARMELLA AND VIOLET PROBLEMS! Just saying!

I love all this glorious gay drama. Ah the joys of tiny dating pools where everyone has or is currently dating everyone. Poor Sheila, always has to watch jealously from the side. I hope she gets to be someone's first pick this time around. She seems so confused with how to be loved back.

You continue to be a wonderful writer and I am deeply invested in all the drama in both dynasties

Carmella needs to get a partner because jealousy is the only thing fueling this engine babyyyyyyy. (even during dynasty play she was always a little angry at Violet for no good reason)

[Trip]

🙠 1.7 🙢

(Sheila)

I was surprised when I first heard that Moonlight Falls celebrated Halloween. If I had to guess, it’d be a little disrespectful to everyone who lived there. Not like I cared if some kid dressed as a zombie came to the door, but I was old and jaded underneath everything.

Then Violet gleefully gave candy to a kid dressed as a ghost on our first Halloween, with a sheet over their head. She shrugged when I asked her. “I’d rather be seen as fun than something awful. They almost didn’t want a ghost working at the lab and that was so much worse.”

She listened to my request to get a job and almost cried after that job interview, but privately. It sounded like music. But Dr. Singh took pity on her, told her to wear gloves over the ectoplasm, and work hard. That much Violet could do. Her friend-turned-enemy, the ghost named Samuel, got a similar deal at the business office. I got a lot of gossip about him from Bianca. A few promotions rolled in for Violet as the year marched on, unlike Samuel, and I still hadn’t thrown her a party for it. Or for any birthday that was hurling towards us.

And to think I wanted her to love me! Yes, Olivia was still in the picture, but I heard about her a little less. Then she got her cooking prowess back and made Violet a five-course dim sum lunch. Unlike the other ghosts, she wouldn't get a job.

I huffed. Carmella didn’t do that for me. She just made...everything else I loved. The healthy like stuffed tofu and the horrifying like chicken fried steak with gravy.

Violet and Carmella turned out to share a birthday around Halloween. For the most part, they celebrated privately. I knew what it was like to share a birthday, because Samhain and I did long ago. But this one could be mature. I spent too long trying to have fun at kids’ birthday parties. Now I didn’t know any kids. And our next Halloween as a household was coming fast.

And let’s just say, no one cared that I dressed up as a witch, and a sexy witch if I had to be honest about the style. This was my last chance to look so good in a corset. Bianca Crumplebottom told me I could be a sexy witch if she could be a sexy zombie like I was. Her words! I was flattered...and thought she looked great! If I was buried instead of burnt to ash, maybe that would be how I’d have emerged from the earth.

I refrained from telling her that you don’t emerge, not even if you're buried. Both Violet and I simply appeared in front of our remains. I became one with mine, and all that was left of her was some gold buried in the ground.

Our guest list was wide. I told anyone living with us that family, coworkers, and friends were all fair game. It meant that I didn’t know most people there though, and for the most part, I didn’t ask.

My only reservation was about the grey guy. He hid behind a hockey mask and was invited by Violet. She shrugged. Everyone agreed that Mr. Snypes was a vampire janitor at the lab. I thought he could have loftier ambitions than that.

My favorite part of the night that didn’t involve Violet was Rainflower, the most senior and skilled musician I knew. He had gotten older as well but didn’t retire from the theatre and kept honing his skills. I didn’t even know he played violin before that night, as he dressed like a simple bard. At least I would have more time than I knew what to with, looking two or three hundred years into the future. A violin could fit in perfectly between time’s spacious curves. Or I’d hate myself and paint again.

I wasn’t much of a dancer, not professionally or at parties. It was what fascinated me so much about my grandson. Where did he get all that confidence from? Certainly not from my side of the family. So I didn’t think to dance at all until Carmella took my hand.

What I liked about living with Carmella was every strange, wild, fun, and beautiful idea she had. I would do everything to not play into it and yet I was her happy passenger.

And I wish I had a better birthday gift for her. I panicked. She got a new set of pots since she cooked us dinner a little more than the rest of us did. In my defense, they were enameled cast iron. To my fault, it did not hold a candle to what waited for Violet.

What she gave me was a beautiful dance, twirling me around like I weighed nothing at all.

And yes, she dressed up like a zombie too. I gave permission to every witch I knew.

“Say cheese, witch girl!” She had finally started to embrace modern technology. I took a lot of selfies in my past life too, it was a strange joy when there was little to celebrate about myself.

“It’s your heritage.”

“Do you think I’d stoop so low as to wear a pointed hat? My old coven was much more subtle.”

It was our first big house party, and I was alright with it involving zombies, bards, and a few fursuits too. Pappy took his literally, right down to the spots. Despite our breakup, he curled up in my heart like a tired old dog. Perhaps he missed not having to pay for a costume rental when he wanted to be a canine, so I paid for it.

I took being a wolf away from him. But I was not about to let Violet’s heritage go so quickly.

Ever since she told me about her traveling family, I thought about the covered wagon by the river. Violet’s family was long-gone or finally settled into ordinary homes. And probably long-gone entirely, since she had been dead for a while. Whoever was left didn’t care about one obsolete wagon that didn’t even have a shower.

Things either shook her core or ran off her like she was waterproof. This was one of the latter in the end, but when the caravan went up on sale, I took it. I said I was part of a traveler’s cultural society. And to be fair, I’d help them if they asked.

“I think the kids are finally going home.” Violet dressed like a cat and was giving out candy to children. She insisted. The party was for her too, and while Violet wasn’t a classic introvert, she had deeper interests in magic and alchemy than in maintaining friendships. In fact, she was like all the good parts of Vega concentrated, right down to a big, beautiful nose.

Still a terrible thought, though.

“Well we should have cake, then, you’ve worked up an appetite for it.”

And they both looked beautiful in their new, “older” age. It did something especially good to Carmella’s jaw...not like I had a crush on her or anything. I wasn’t much of a monogamist, at least deep inside, but I also wondered if I could reform myself. I thought that I found the perfect ghost for it.

I led Violet far away from the house before she could even finish her piece of cake. Through the woods and down a dirt path to a campsite and a familiar wagon.

“Yeah, hey, it’s ruined now, I’ve come to accept it,” said Violet.

“Or not,” I said, producing the new deed to the property and the carriage parked there for years. “I figured you knew what to do with it.”

“I do! I think. It’s...it’s weird when the whole family’s moved into houses and I’m the last one who gives a **/cares about a stupid old wagon.”

“I registered it as the Slymer Rromani History Center, but we can change it later.”

“To get rid of the old name?” she asked.

“Yeah it was really bothering me.”

“This is so perfect, ya know?” Violet drew me in for a close hug. And how could I describe hugging a ghost? She was almost solid and warm to the touch, but in an artificial way. A feeling that was bad only if you hated curling up next to radiators. It was also unlike how I felt as a spirit. It was like they filled me with ice water for twenty years. “Imagine Olivia being that nice.”

“Well, I guess that mansion’s a trade-off.”

“Eh, I like your home better, if I gotta choose…”

She said she had an interest in astronomy, like it was in her blood. I could have asked more but she touched my hand as we sat down on the dewy grass.

“Yeah, you know, we all have horoscopes in like five different traditions,” said Violet. “So you have to keep track of the whole sky.”

“That makes sense.”

“It’s hard to see most of the stars that matter. That’s the stupid thing about space.”

“You’re tellin’ me. And we still get visited by aliens.”

“Or spawned from them,” said Violet. I laughed nervously. “Okay, there’s one I have a story about.” She pointed to the brightest one I could see.

“Yeah?”

“I have a cousin named after that star. Not a funny story, ya know, but I miss her. I figured she might still be around but I still can’t find her.”

“Why? And...which star is that?” I squinted up at the sky and the diamond shape around that star. Was that Lyra? Did anyone actually care about Lyra? It wasn’t in our zodiac.

“Vega! I mean, it’s a groovy name.”

“Yeah, for everyone else,” I muttered. It had to be a coincidence. Maybe it was popular before I was born. After all, someone had to name the Vega too. I clenched a fistful of grass, roots and all. “What color was she?”

Violet shook her head. “You can’t ask that about a daemon. Or anyone, it's like asking 'bout my scar.”

“So she was a daemon. Grey, green eyes, two spindly hands that could strangle you.”

“Yeah, like, half my family is--”

“Your cousin hurt me! For my whole life!” I didn’t know what came over me. But Violet was weightless and easy to pin down and confront. I couldn’t even see her face when I looked into it. She was just a golden Vega. Admitted to it and all.

“How could I have known that one? She wasn’t anything like that,” She stared at me with a still face.

Violet didn’t have to breathe and her eyes were two expressionless orbs. I never thought of it in depth until then. A lifeless pawn for her master, I’m sure.

“I bet she brought you back for this.”

“No! I haven’t seen her since I died. I bet she's gone now just like everyone else I loved.”

I left her on the ground. “Look, I know you’re bound to my house forever now, but stay out of my way. And double for Mr. Snypes,” I said. So much for the vampire cover story or wanting him to get a better job. “All I wanted was to escape this.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

It was the longest walk back home.

There was nowhere else to go in that house. Every wall was now haunted by Vega, like her blood ran through our pipes. After all, she would bleed out an ocean just to spite me! Unfortunately, Violet lived here, and there was no escape from her lest Barry send a minion down. Surely he had to know about this. She would have been one of his subjects.

I told myself that I would never paint again once I left Twinbrook. It was my life’s passion that Vega exploited, with every sale going through her. Every idea broken by having to do another portrait of her or Screwtape. I’d have left that room empty if Malcolm didn’t beg me to keep it.

The poor young man got ignored so much by me. Sometimes it was hard to look him in the eyes, though. He reminded me a lot of both Heath and Marco, even if it was only the blue hair. I wondered where his vampire obsession came from, though. He dressed as one for Halloween but he dressed the same for any event. Lots of black and not in the way I wore it. Yet, a lot of local vampires wanted nothing to do with him.

Violet fascinated him too, but they mostly avoided each other. It was a clash of personalities that neither of them wanted to escalate, and now I was too afraid to fix it.

“Did she thank you for the trailer?” he asked me.

“The hell do you think?”

“I think she thanked you, because that was kind of you to do for her people.”

“Her other people are the worst! Forget them, she’s the cousin of the daemon who enslaved me, I don’t owe her a thing anymore.” I wasn’t angry at Malcolm, but all my rage was in his face. “And now I can’t even make her leave.”

“Wait, so daemons are real and you never told me?” Malcolm asked, covering his mouth.

“Shut it, it’s a long and painful story,” I said.

“But I have so many questions now.”

“A lot of them are evil, they’re from space, I was held captive by one named Vega, and the Grim Reaper is one too and he’s actually a collection of alright guys and gals. I mean...I fell in love with at least three of them? I did everything to try and not relive it, is that too much to ask? Did I really fall in love with my captor again? I can’t forgive myself for this, what if she hurts you too?”

“I can take the pain, as I hope to take it on my neck,” he said.

“Just stay human, you’ll thank me later…”

I wondered if there was a way to repay him at all. I was told that everyone in my house was subject to daemonic scrutiny, even if it was from kinder ones like Cara and Barry. How could I even ask those questions? All I knew to ask were “are you in love, Malcolm? And will you die on the inside if it doesn’t work out?” Everything was so specific to me, and that’s what I feared the most.

“Uh, do you have a favorite sandwich shop here?” I asked him. “Surely someone’s gotta make a good cheesesteak out west, am I right? I’ll buy!”

“No, but I can always go for Thai food, or those big containers of hot and sour soup from--”

“Samuuueeeel!”

I thought everyone had left, but Belinda Crumplebottom went into labor in our foyer anyways. I never “authorized” guests to come in, but I started to rethink that. Her screams were ear-splitting, and yet, I think she made the magical hot and sour soup Malcolm wanted too. Her maternity leave from the kitchen would get in the way of that gift to him.

“Look man, I’ll take this and get Samuel. I’ve had a baby before,” I said.

“What, your past life was amazing!”

“I owe you that then!” It felt like I would have a lot of time to tell him more about being a perfect zombie with a rich past life. At least it felt more fitting for Halloween if I called myself a zombie.

Belinda gave birth to a perfect ghostly son, without a painkiller in sight. I had done the same with Marco, but not by choice. It was a quick labor. But I was honored to help her and squeeze her hand, since Samuel was late and slow. I had no idea what would happen to the little baby. I’d never seen questions about ghost children answered before and I never saw one grow up. Not even years later.

It was a sad thought.

I slept on the floor of the painting room that night. With a sleeping bag, it could have been worse, at least the floor was smooth and freshly waxed. I had a truce with a lot of the household. Spot couldn’t care much about my personal struggles with Violet. And Carmella was out of sight, not even in her sculpting studio or private squatter’s corner.

At most, I heard a dual whisper on that Halloween night. “Huh...I guess I need what Belinda has.”

[Trip]

Alright so as a history lesson: this chapter was written before any of the other ones. Dead serious, nothing but this was final in October 2020. I did add some stuff here and there but it was both a hard chapter to read (I don't know, the big cast + structure wasn't as genius as it was almost a year ago) and also to change. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. Except with Sheila having a tense argument with Violet while she was dressed like a cat, which is actually great and the best set of screenshots ever.

Posting this story in two places also means two sets of feedback. Is this absolute writing magic (by one of your moderators) or a bit of a jumbled mess with the cast and switching between two storylines? Yep. Is it something I'm gonna handwave away with a giant character and lore blog? You bet.

[mpart]

I personally think you are handling the two different storylines well. They both intertwine and when Violet revealed that she was related to Vega I went "oh snap!" and looked back at previous chapters where Vega mentioned her cousin who had died. Felt a bit dumb not connecting those dots sooner but oh well. If anything this story makes me want to write a dual immortal dynasty even though it's absolute madness (I'm not going to but man this a fantastic story and it inspires me). I like seeing the different immortal dynasties and how Sheila and Heathcliff's households are so drastically different yet similar at the same time. Maybe if you feel like things are confusing just do a simple chapter number - Shiela or Heathcliff? EX) 1.6 - Shiela Not really necessary though, just trying to think of something that might help you feel better.  Also when you create the cast/lore blog please post! I would love to read it even though I don't have trouble keeping up with the characters. I'm a bit obsessed with this story currently. 

[Trip]

I personally think you are handling the two different storylines well. They both intertwine and when Violet revealed that she was related to Vega I went "oh snap!" and looked back at previous chapters where Vega mentioned her cousin who had died. Felt a bit dumb not connecting those dots sooner but oh well. If anything this story makes me want to write a dual immortal dynasty even though it's absolute madness (I'm not going to but man this a fantastic story and it inspires me). I like seeing the different immortal dynasties and how Sheila and Heathcliff's households are so drastically different yet similar at the same time. Maybe if you feel like things are confusing just do a simple chapter number - Shiela or Heathcliff? EX) 1.6 - Shiela Not really necessary though, just trying to think of something that might help you feel better.  Also when you create the cast/lore blog please post! I would love to read it even though I don't have trouble keeping up with the characters. I'm a bit obsessed with this story currently. 

In the halcyon days of 2013 I also still appreciated Violet's nose (oh what a life to live) and wanted a sim kind of like that. I don't know quite how I ended up at Vega but she was an attempt to capture Violet's likeness. So naturally I took advantage of that.

Anyone can be a cousin but Holi name-drops "her Violet" in 0.5. I'm sure it would have made waves if I didn't take an extended hiatus for Tater.

The chapter numbering is an idea! I like the "minimalism" of the number titles but I could put it under the chapter number in the post (and do something similar on my blog) I'm trying to study other sim story lore blogs for formatting and how best to tackle it especially with the spoiler question and all.

[Trip]

🙠 1.8 🙢

(Sheila)

After what happened with Violet, the world changed. The seasons did, that is, cursing us with long nights and making me hate the snow. It would be fine if I still lived in Pappy’s trailer, but now I had one of the largest properties in town.

Of course this wasn’t my first winter there. If pressed, I’d whine and deny and then admit that I did it all for Violet. And I never escaped the pit I told myself that I would escape: the trap of falling for one person entirely.

Violet was going to continue to live, or whatever her state of being was. I felt for her and her growing arguments with Olivia, but then I remembered it was in her blood. Was it supposed to matter anyways? It did, because Vega’s rottenness took generations to breed out. And it didn’t, because Violet liked to disprove that. She did not quarrel with me, even if we didn’t live together on speaking terms. She helped pay the bills.

If there was a Vega analog, it was me. But I also wanted it to be nobody. It wasn’t an inevitable dynamic, but things felt different one night.

It started with Pappy bringing home a puppy that his son’s dog had. We named her Karen, and on any other night, I’d be doting on Karen and making sure no one else did.

But instead, I was despondent. I walked through Malcolm’s studio to get to the backyard and watch the pool water. It hadn’t frozen over yet and I dipped my feet in. Snow started to fall and it was about to freeze over, but the rest of me was numb anyways. All I could do was wait for an entity to leave. Karen was five pounds and too little to scare them off.

In my weird life, I had never seen Death ride a horse. This one was a ghost, shimmering in a dusty bronze while ridden on by a mysterious, lithe figure. I had learned a lot about death’s servants and what they wore. The robe didn’t go out of style for the spectacle of it. Perhaps the skimpier outfits I knew them for were saved for private and I was a close friend privy to that.

They came for Pappy, not the love of my life once Violet entered the picture, but still the man who kept me here in the frozen north.

“It sucks, Spot was my first kiss in years,” I said to Malcolm. He ended up following me outside, which he almost never did without a lot of kicking and screaming and angry calls from Helen.

“Mine too.”

Says a lot about Helen! And to think I resigned myself to never having anything in common with Malcolm. If anything, he reminded me of Marco, right down to the blue hair.

It was hard not to think about Spot’s family and his little grandkids. The tragedy about growing up in Vega’s house was how small and insular my life ended up. When I died, only two people missed me. And it could have easily been less. There were times where I wondered if Heath would slip through my fingers too, and it was pure luck that he stayed.

“I mean, are you doing okay?” I asked. “I can’t force you to spend time with your kid or anything, but--”

“You’re overthinking this,” said Malcolm. “But...do you think I could ever work at the theatre? I used to drive past it a lot and I played piano as a kid and you work with cool and magical people!”

“Eh, we’ll see if Helen ever retires…”

“...and is that our reaper?”

It was them and their horse, not in a rush to get anywhere else. Perhaps Cara was right about only getting the souls of those who knew a daemon closely. It was the only way to stay sane.

“No way, they usually leave in a puff of smoke,” I muttered, running to the fence. And they expected to escape without me noticing. But even in the darkest night, that ghost horse shone like a floodlight.

“How many deaths have you seen? And can you tell me about them?”

“It’s not the time for ghost stories!”

Malcolm sulked. “Well I think it’s always time for them.”

It was a short chase down the road, which was good for me. I was tired by the time I caught up to them.

The reaper parked their horse at the Red Velvet Lounge and disrobed, revealing a long dress with a shimmering trim underneath. She gave her horse a pat on the snout before going in through the back door. And I wasn’t shooed away.

But I’d go in through the front, it would be less suspicious.

I definitely stepped into another world. Now I got why that lounge near me was so packed once a month for “private purposes”. Ruddy-colored daemons packed onto the floor and tables, dressed in their finest. And worst of all, neither of the two I trusted were anywhere to be found. But as I learned that night, death never took a break. I certainly couldn’t force it to. If anything was fair in this world, Cara and Barry weren’t tending to vast tragedies.

It should have been my worst nightmare, but I realized more and more that this wasn’t about daemons, just about Vega. Her parties were never so...lively. Nothing about her betrayed a “fun side.”

The chatter was impenetrable, and two ghosts performed on stage: a fiddler and a pianist. However, the upright bass on stage stood empty. And they were good! I rarely heard the jazz violin, after all. Maybe I should have asked Barry to not have my body back. It would be a cool gimmick for a concert, especially if I followed my dreams and made a black metal album.

The worst part: Violet did not play an instrument. Didn’t even want to try, hence why she was so impressed with me. I was cursed with good memories of her. Even the worst ones were by association as I pinned her to the ground.

I then held my breath as I approached that daemon and a few friends of our reaper’s. They chattered with revelry and a lot of wine and too much filth on their tongues for the way they were dressed. Every dress was dated to the Roaring 20’s.

“And to think, I finally put an abomination out of their misery...except for one.”

“So...I guess I need no introduction?” I asked her. “Who are you? And...I wanna know more about Spot.”

“I would think I would need no introduction as well,” she said, a hand on her hip. Her voice dripped with posh affects and unneeded arrogance. She made Carmella sound crass. “I am Elva, not the queen of the dead yet but for sure, one of her many esteemed in-laws.”

“Sounds riveting...is Spot okay? And is any of this okay? I’m not comfortable with all of you being so close to my house for starters. And why are they ghosts but I’m all flesh?”

“Are those other rooms empty, my darlings?” Someone nodded their head. “Very well, I’ll only discuss this in private.”

Elva took a seat in one of the side rooms, flouncing onto the chair and unfolding a lacy handheld fan. The lighting and fabric of the furniture matched her cadmium-red skin. I wondered if I’d ever belong somewhere as perfectly as her.

I lay down on the couch across from her, letting one arm fall to the floor and letting go of my breath. Ever since that night with Violet, everything felt tighter like Vega was still squeezing me. I didn’t need to question my existence now too, or have a therapist like Elva.

She gave me a flustered look, but then said: “You’re astoundingly lucky that my wife isn’t here yet. I get nothing done with her around.”

“Yeah, it seems like you have a weird job,” I said, rubbing my neck.

“And she is a gem, oh to think they believed in me more than her, but of course, I do get to foist all my work onto her.” There was a sparkle in Elva’s eye when she talked about her wife. And my core was shook meeting daemons who had humanity behind them. Even the most hurtful were beings with love and families.

Worst of all, Violet had the most of it. The pain missed her, or shot her in the chest with liquid gold.

“Did you ever know a Violet Slymer?” I asked her. “She’s the one who turned herself into gold, and y’all seem to know a lot of ghosts.”

“Hardly, it is a chore to keep up with them. We like to invite them back to our world on occasion, or perhaps all the time.” She looked up and bit her lip. “You must have seen me with my horse. He and the fiddler are a special case. A joint project between the light of my life and myself.”

“And me?”

“I’m sure there’s a reason to give you your skin back, but I’ll spare you the details. My lovely grandson is annoyingly proud of what he did to save you. I’m sure he’d know your Violet too.”

Now to get the obvious out of the way: Elva looked like Barry in drag, though prettier than that sentence sounded. It was in the eyes and the way they squinted when they both smiled. I chuckled. “He seems proud of a lot of things.”

“It’s a wonderful trait to have. I pity those who waste a second of their lives on hating themselves,” she said, surrounded by luxury. “So what’s your excuse for not enjoying the second chance no one else has?”

“Take a wild guess,” I said. Daemonic laughter stabbed the room every few seconds.

“Cursed with the woman who disgusts you?” Elva asked.

“Everyone has one? And Violet is so…perfect. I don’t know if I wanna banish her or marry her or just plant a big kiss on her lips anyways. It’s so hard!”

“Oh darling, I had a friend who disgusted me. Not once did I touch her, even before her crimes. Instead I married the woman who makes me laugh until I cry and cry until I fall asleep.”

“Sounds great.”

She smiled. “You should see her on stage tonight. Imagine a glowing face and lithe fingers that dance around the strings of a bass...it’s certainly not how she won me over, but I don’t think you’re the one for love-at-first-sight tales.”

I thought about how my heart was aching for a wife. Even a wife as a general concept. For a moment I wanted to be Elva, or her wife, or any gay daemon there since there seemed to be a lot of them. And I barely knew them or liked their actions. Beyond Barry, Cara, and the women who helped bring Barry into the world, it was still dismal. And yet, I was surrounded by them at their most drunk and harmless.

“No, I wish I was that kind of person,” I said.

“Take one thing away from this, and marry your best friend. Of course, it is hard for a mortal to marry within this little family, so perhaps leave our dear Cara out of this.” Elva sniffed the air a little. “I hope that’s enough for your curiosity. I smell my wife.”

“You can smell her?”

“And darling, I wish the same on you.” She eyed me up and down. “You can stay for a bit for the music, but you look positively shabby tonight. It’s like no one’s given you any love.”

“Cara bought me this,” I said, tugging on my plaid hoodie.

“Case in point.”

Elva took me to the mirror in the corner and soon I was embraced by a flowing gown and my hair in a small bun. She really wanted to be in the 1920’s again.

“So were you born then?” I asked.

“The 20’s? Of course, before. I had to come of age into it.”

“And your wife?”

Elva looked away slyly. “It was the perfect time for love.”

Her wife leaped into her arms the moment they saw each other. She was interesting I suppose. She let out a scream when running towards her wife and looked as eccentric as the rest of the crowd, or even weirder. She was the only woman there who elected to wear a tuxedo, with a harlequin-diamond pattern on the vest and tie. It didn’t match her electric-yellow hair.

They were the kind of couple who existed only in each others’ arms, one gloved hand in another. If Elva’s wife wasn’t busy with the aftermath of a nightclub accident that killed five, they wouldn’t have been apart that night at all.

It’s not like I thought daemons couldn’t love. Even Vega loved her husband in some way. And as for Violet, I still couldn’t convince myself that she could do anything but love. Her presence tainted the house but was the only thing keeping the lights on for me too.

Carmella found her grating. No nuance to it. I wished my life could be that simple.

“Great act tonight.” A hand touched my waist, and I looked over my shoulder to Cara, dressed for a night at the opera. She was the only one in the room not wearing black, which was never her color.

Elva and her wife completed the act on stage with bass and vocals. Elva, the hoarse and indelicate soprano, and Fionola the intricate bassist. Her finger-plucking was faster than I could do on a guitar. And for guitarists, it was optional, a flourish saved for classical guitarists and showoffs. Not for her craft, though.

But I still liked the ghost fiddler the best. He was as silver as I once was but actually content with his life.

“This seems like a waste of your souls,” I said.

Cara looked around the room. “Ghosts can do great things. I wish I had told you that earlier.”

“No, I’m more aware of that than anyone else.” Violet was now a published scientist after all. It didn’t even seem to impress her but she co-wrote a paper with Dr. Singh and his wife (the other Dr. Singh). Acting like she wasn’t tainted from the core. “Shouldn’t you know how bad Vega was?”

“Yeah, bad enough not to change my mind,” said Cara, holding up an envelope to me. Violet’s name was scrawled on the front in her handwriting. “Don’t shoot the messenger, that’s all.”

“So what do you know about her?”

“I really should’ve seen it coming. It’s all in the nose.”

“Don’t insult Violet’s nose like that.” I stuffed the letter in my bra. I got to keep the dress that Elva clad me in, but she didn’t give it any pockets.

I was invited to stay at the lounge for the whole night, but I declined. The house was so empty even if I was there. Pappy’s absence was always palpable. No more lunatic screeds over dinner. No fresh fish from his fishing trips. No more Spot curled up in my bed when he had a nightmare. But that must have been why he got me a real dog.

It broke my heart, but not Carmella’s. She started dating a new guy a few months before this. And as much as I didn’t want to hate Samidh, I hated seeing him in the house, especially on a night like that. In some way, he was Carmella’s perfect fit. I’d describe him as domestic: good at decorating a house in knick-knacks, cooking, and taking care of his kindergarten class.

His life wouldn’t come apart at the seams unless Carmella broke up with him, and even then, I doubted it.

She wasn’t fazed by Pappy’s passing. His philandering bothered her after a while. So I coughed loudly to distract them.

“Oh, heavens, I think Sammy should be getting home anyways, for the children,” she said. Sweet relief. “But I found something splendid while you were gone, Sheila.”

Carmella took my arm and lead me into her sculpting studio.

“Can you believe it? It’s scorching in this room, but I found non-melting ice! Why, I feel like it’s our new iron age.”

“Thanks, but that’s not new. Or magical.” Uncle Harwood figured out non-melting ice too. He was one of the most normal people I knew, letting me complain about school when my parents were sick of it. And if he was magical, he’d probably use it to break free of Vega or get his bratty kids to behave.

“You’ve seen so much of his beautiful world, and yet here you are, being grumpy in my studio,” she said. “I think you should work on that.”

“Yeah, I have a while to.” The envelope was starting to itch against my skin. It was thick with several sheets of paper. And it wasn’t like Violet left our house. She was bound here forever in two separate ways. But she had work and Olivia as good excuses to leave for days at a time. I was tempted to sleep at work too.

I almost tore the envelope open, but my eyes were heavy. And I didn’t want to imagine Vega’s face. Whatever was in there would force me to.