Author Topic: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty ("Complete")  (Read 196865 times)

Offline RaiaDraconis

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 4, 1/27)
« Reply #15 on: January 27, 2014, 12:21:25 PM »
Oh awesome. I love the way that you made Amy over--she looks stunning in that hairstyle, for one.

Offline Beezy

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 4, 1/27)
« Reply #16 on: January 27, 2014, 02:14:24 PM »
I'm loving it! Amy looks wonderful in her new clothes!



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Offline hazelnut

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 4, 1/27)
« Reply #17 on: January 27, 2014, 03:38:08 PM »
I love the way you started this story...

Is Harwood preggers, by any chance?

Offline Rhoxi

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 4, 1/27)
« Reply #18 on: January 27, 2014, 06:46:15 PM »

Holy crap! You finally posted your story, and it took me two days to notice! So excited to finally read it! When you first showed that picture of "Alas, poor Hardwood" I was thinking meteor, but then he was still alive, so now I'm thinking aliens. I absolutely love your founder; she's really awesome looking. Her and Amy look like they were just made to be best friends. The back-story is also phenomenal: touching and a bit bittersweet, plus a token tribute to Agnes. It's absolute win, and I can't wait for more!

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 5, 1/28)
« Reply #19 on: January 28, 2014, 11:58:06 AM »
YAY! You recruited Amy! Amy Bull's fashion sense/nonsense seems endearing to me; it's just so her. Though, Annette did give her a nice makeover. Her look is less distracting now.

I'm fairly new, so I don't think I've come across any of your other Immortal Dynasty stories. Is Annette one of the Sim offspring from a previous attempt? I could be way off, but her features remind me a bit of the Riffin family from Appaloosa Plains.

Amy's original wardrobe hurts my eyes if I look at it for too long. :P But it's kind of endearing in its craziness, I'll admit.

Annette is entirely CAS-made, though I see how she might look like a Riffin. While I have plenty of sims saved from past attempts, I wanted to start entirely fresh this time.

Oh awesome. I love the way that you made Amy over--she looks stunning in that hairstyle, for one.

I know! Amy has a really easy face to flatter and looks good in plenty of hairstyles, but that one was calling to me and it worked so well.

I'm loving it! Amy looks wonderful in her new clothes!

Thank you!

I love the way you started this story...

Is Harwood preggers, by any chance?

Thanks!

I guess you'll just have to find that out.

Holy crap! You finally posted your story, and it took me two days to notice! So excited to finally read it! When you first showed that picture of "Alas, poor Hardwood" I was thinking meteor, but then he was still alive, so now I'm thinking aliens. I absolutely love your founder; she's really awesome looking. Her and Amy look like they were just made to be best friends. The back-story is also phenomenal: touching and a bit bittersweet, plus a token tribute to Agnes. It's absolute win, and I can't wait for more!

Glad you found it!

I'm glad you like Annette. I've been playing her since the summer (in her own series of botched dynasty attempts), and she grew on me a lot. I can't imagine a dynasty without her now! Thanks for the nice comments.

In addition to a new chapter, I also edited my ruleset to include two things I forgot (no changing mortal LTWs, and removing on any "no inbreeding" rules I had). I also linked to a published document on Google Drive that includes stats for all of my immortals so far. While it's linked on my first post too, here it is for anyone that needs it. Because I play ahead, beware of major spoilers!



Chapter 5: Keys to Your Car



It was an unorthodox recommendation.



Annette chopped onions at work for most of her shift, bags and bags of them for every dish. As good as she was at it, she yearned for the heat of the griddle or the industrial oven and being a proper cook. However, she improved at her cooking more and more by hopping house-to-house after Amy moved in. The allure of Julienne Knack’s oversized basement kitchen called her. In addition, Annette found herself learning the secret to perfect omelettes from Julienne instead. And then about Julienne’s romance gone sour.

“You’re new here, but you gotta listen to me about Bill Racket. I don’t care about what creep you can reel from this godforsaken place, unless it’s Bill. He’ll break your heart and break it hard.”

“God, Jules, just give it a rest,” sad Pattina, Julienne’s mum, before heading out to the pool to cool off from 98% humidity before bedtime.

“No mum, she has to hear about me and my problems! And I’ll be darned if I let a new cook get hurt. Anyways, Annette,” she continued, “I fell for him and it was just awful. If he didn’t try to drag me into all of his personal drama, he cheated on me with the maid!”

“How rich is he?” asked Annette.

“Loaded, but that’s not the point.”

So Annette looked in the phone book and found that Bill lived up the street, in a mansion with a long, red, brick-laid walkway up to the front door. A VFN Kompensator was parked towards the back. Once she laid eyes on the shiny black car, she laid out every possible plan to hotwire it, drive it home, and sell it on the market.

One night, she knocked on the door, and was greeted by an older man in a blue denim jacket (in that heat!) and his eyes hidden behind aviator sunglasses. He introduced himself as none other than Bill Racket. Could Annette charm him, win his trust, and get a ride in that car?



Of course she could!





Some sort of strange friendship blossomed between those two afterwards, through a few nights of her whacking Bill with a pillow. Later, Annette learned that the Rackets indeed had a kitchen, and a large family to feed. In spite of enough money to do better, they also owned a faulty stovetop and a high tolerance for burnt pancakes. Bill stepped out a little earlier to go to work, but at first, the rest of his family seemed amiable, if just for a few moments.

“You know, Nettie,” said Dennis, Bill’s brother, after choking down a bite of charred pancakes, “I am this close to kicking that miserable oaf out of the house. I feel so sorry for when you have to deal with him.”

Geez, did everyone think that way? She went to work that afternoon feeling sorry for Bill, and metaphorically patting herself on the back for such stunning philanthropy. Even the nice car was parked in the back of her mind. Sheer friendship drove a text she gave him one Tuesday night, during a slow night at work and with bags’-worth of onions perfectly sliced.

Dinner tomorrow night. You in?



He insisted on getting seating inside, even if it meant an hour’s wait for a table. Instead, Annette pushed and shoved and got her way, sitting outdoors with a bowl of chili and a refreshing lakeside air breaking up the sweltering summer heat. He reminded her that it was air-conditioned indoors.

“Stop your whining and eat up,” she said, “And maybe talk too.” She fidgeted a bit in her chair. Bill came to dinner in his everyday clothes, but Annette was stuck in her cocktail dress. The silky fabric grew damp in the humidity.

“I guess I didn’t mean it that way,” she said after a bite of chili, “It would have been nice indoors too.”

“I’ll live,” he grumbled, pushing the egg rolls he ordered around on the plate, “Still better than eating at home.”

“I’ll take your word for how bad it is. They seem okay enough, but you’re much cooler. So are you the corrupt kind of politician or the ineffective kind?” she asked.



“I still work on behalf of the family. Corrupt as they get! I wouldn’t mind leaving, though. I’d rather be in law enforcement than help those jerks.”

Corruption made Annette’s heart melt into a warm puddle, and put her sticky fingers at ease. Without legal papers and with an illegal habit, she needed someone to bribe and schmooze for added protection. This had to be the one.

They sat at the table, pushing around things on their plate, mostly, and engaging in small talk about TV shows and the weirdest woohoo they ever had. By the time Annette had the last of her chili, it was still lukewarm, all from the summer heat. By the time they got the check, a choir of cicadas drowned out any conversation. Annette just looked at the sky, clear that night instead of its usual overcast. She never knew how starry the Twinbrook sky could get.

“Is it ever this clear at night?” she asked Bill.

“You’re acting like I get outside and look at the sky,” he said, “It could be this way every night, for all I know.”

“Well, it’s always nice to try new things.” She sat down on the brick-laid ground, cross-legged. “New for me, new for you.”

“Alright, I’ll humor you.” He took a seat by her side.



Under the twinkling stars and the full moon, Annette slowly moved her hand closer to his. With each sentence, she moved it close, until her fingers brushed against his, taking Bill by surprise.

“You...you really think this way about me?” he asked.


“I can’t say that I’m sure yet,” Annette said, “But you looked so nice under the candlelight.”

Annette took a look at the clock on her phone, and it somehow became 3AM. Perhaps they got dinner later than she thought. But Bill likely had work that morning, so it was time to depart. She almost leaned in for a surprise kiss and a good-bye, until something more dire arose.

“Ahhhh!”



It turned out that Jenni Jones-Brown stayed at the Bistro for a late dinner too, and stayed even later to contemplate her impending motherhood by her lonesome. Conveniently, her water broke just as Annette contemplated grabbing her first kiss. Annette ended the night still just friends with Bill, and with a young woman in labor and in need of a ride to the hospital.

After the initial panic, Annette said a quick good-bye to Bill and managed to catch Jenni between contractions for long enough to find out where she parked her car. It was at the consignment shop. Jenni gave her the keys, a bad idea. Annette paused for a moment upon seeing Jenni’s beauty of a car: a Bwan Speedster in prussian blue, close to the color of Annette’s eyes. The original leather interior was intact, and a car seat was installed in the back. Keys in her hand, Annette had a car handed to her, but Jenni’s screams of pain rang through the night air and to the nearest eight lots.

So Annette drove to the curb of the Bistro, escorted Jenni to the passenger seat, and parked at the hospital. It took a lot of willpower, but she accompanied Jenni inside instead of driving home in an ill-gotten automobile. Napping in the waiting room instead of seeing who would take the car and for how much money. Hours passed and Annette buried her face in magazines instead of sneaking away, until Jenni finally walked out. She held a darling little girl, who screamed while in the confines of a pink swaddling blanket.

“Hey, Annette, right? Thanks for the ride. I’ll get myself home,” Jenni said.

“No problem. I think you might want your keys, though.” She handed her the keys, as misty-eyed as if she faced romantic rejection or a child moving away.



That morning, the summer morning sunlight fully bathed Twinbrook, without a cloud in the sky. Annette watched Jenni walk away with her daughter and drive away with that car, with its seductively-roaring engine. From that morning until the time my great-great-grandfather was born, she shifted her priorities. No longer were the nicest cars in Twinbrook her main focus, but preparing for one day having her own swaddled, screaming demon. She focused on that for a few years, until my great-great-grandfather was born.



At least Annette had time to prepare for him. Harwood could not say the same when he held a new-spawned alien.



The first night he lived with Annette was an odd one. After a morning being schmoozed to by a periwinkle-colored oddity of simkind, Harwood had other unbelievable horrors to face. For one, he had to admit to his best friend that maybe he had a point about aliens being real. However, what exactly was on the end of the aliens’ probe was a mystery until months later.



Little Xeep, wrapped in a blue blanket, cooed as Harwood placed him on the ground, in hopes that his own kind would discover him and bring him back home. As he started on another ice sculpture, Xeep was gone in an instant. With the weirdest story of his life behind him, what was Harwood to do?



Get a new shirt.



And a popsicle too. Soon after that, life started looking up for him, and for Annette too. He got into a groove with ice sculpting, and she might have met her soulmate.



Amy had other issues, though.



Word Count for this chapter: 1,607
Word Count so far: 7,240

Revised on 2-2-2015

Congrats to Rhoxi and hazelnut on guessing what happened to Harwood correctly. To date, he's the only man in this dynasty who ever got alien-pregnant. The aliens love abducting my women instead!

To fully explain Annette's fascination with nice cars (beyond her being a kleptomaniac), her LTW is Living in the Lap of Luxury.
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Offline Rhoxi

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 5, 1/28)
« Reply #20 on: January 28, 2014, 03:28:53 PM »

Nice to see Annette is following up on that good recommendation.  :P Let's hope that pans out well for her. Money and corruption aren't usually a big attractor for me, but I think Annette dances to her own little tune.

Offline RaiaDraconis

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 5, 1/28)
« Reply #21 on: January 28, 2014, 03:34:26 PM »
Ha ha...oh poor Harwood. Being pregnant by an alien would have to be one of the most unnerving feelings in the world.

But Bill Racket as a potential dynasty spouse? That's not something I've seen before, but I guess I should expect that with one of your dynasties. :P Pretty awesome, that!



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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 5, 1/28)
« Reply #22 on: January 28, 2014, 04:11:53 PM »
(INCOHERENT SCREAMING OVER ANOTHER TRIP DYNASTY)

But also, elder Harwood? Pregnant? Xeep Xeep would have been the best dynasty painter.

I also love the use of the Rackets. They're my favorite Twinbrook family to breed into. Good genes and charming personalities ;)

Offline Trident

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 5, 1/28)
« Reply #23 on: January 28, 2014, 05:21:33 PM »
Ah HA! I KNEW Jo was number six!!! *momentary victory dance*
Unless my math is off on that one.....meh.

Heh. Loving the romance between Bill and Annette. It's really cute.

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 6, 1/29)
« Reply #24 on: January 29, 2014, 01:10:27 AM »
Comments everywhere!

Nice to see Annette is following up on that good recommendation.  :P Let's hope that pans out well for her. Money and corruption aren't usually a big attractor for me, but I think Annette dances to her own little tune.

I think when I started this dynasty, I had in mind that she needed some money and corruption to protect herself. Being a klepto without papers sounds like risky business!

Ha ha...oh poor Harwood. Being pregnant by an alien would have to be one of the most unnerving feelings in the world.

But Bill Racket as a potential dynasty spouse? That's not something I've seen before, but I guess I should expect that with one of your dynasties. :P Pretty awesome, that!

To be fair, I didn't see it coming either! I had plenty of other men on my radar before Bill. She just fell for him the moment they (randomly) met. I guess there's no accounting for taste.

(INCOHERENT SCREAMING OVER ANOTHER TRIP DYNASTY)

But also, elder Harwood? Pregnant? Xeep Xeep would have been the best dynasty painter.

I also love the use of the Rackets. They're my favorite Twinbrook family to breed into. Good genes and charming personalities ;)

Yeah, but dynasty rules are dynasty rules! I think Xeep had a good upbringing on his home planet regardless. I hope.

I love the Rackets too, and totally not for their money.

Ah HA! I KNEW Jo was number six!!! *momentary victory dance*
Unless my math is off on that one.....meh.

Heh. Loving the romance between Bill and Annette. It's really cute.


You guessed right! It's not like it's a huge plot-point that Jo is #6, so it's okay to write it in.

They were surprisingly cute together! I didn't believe it would be that way when they first hit it off.

Bill and Annette's romantic development is so uniquely cute. All the attributes society frowns upon just seem to amplify Annette's attraction to Bill. Then again, who doesn't love a bad boy?

It's really fun to write about those two. And there's nothing wrong with bad boys! I'm glad Annette found her own.



Chapter 6: Kisses and Shark Bites



Mary Baker owned the diner. She also saw Annette’s enthusiasm for cooking, even if it hid her lack of experience and how Annette forgot to write a resume. Or that she didn't show up in any legal records. No matter her status, she cut onions like a seasoned professional, as if the knife was a natural extension of her arm. Potatoes too, and tomatoes, and mushrooms for Julienne’s mushroom omelettes.

So one night, Annette clocked out and untied her apron when Mary came up to her.

“You’re doing great,” she said, “Who wants to work the deep fryer now?”

And so Annette dropped filets of fish or breaded prawns into the deep fryer, leaving the onions for anyone lower than her. However, her uniform started to reek of peanut oil. Even after taking it off for the night, the smell lingered on her skin, and there was insufficient plumbing for a shower at home. Annette was ready to head to the pool to use its showers, until a familiar face stood outside the diner.

“You, outside?” she asked, until a bouquet of purple roses were shoved in her face.



“I know it seems odd for me to do, but I thought you might need them,” said Bill.



Annette took them and inhaled in their fragrance. “Beats all that peanut oil, for sure.”

If life was a rational thing, then maybe she would have found someone else who wasn't 30 years her senior. Barring that, she would have taken the time to ask herself what out-of-character experience Bill was having. However, the intoxicating smell of fresh roses took its toll on Annette, sweaty and greasy from work.

“It is rather unlike you,” she said, looking at the ground. “Didn’t you say something the other night about how romance is too much hassle?”

“Probably.”



Annette looked Bill deep in his eyes, or whatever she could see of his eyes behind those sunglasses. “Sucks for me, I guess,” she said. “Stop being so dense and let me kiss you.”



I never said that she was bad at persuasion.

“You know, I’d love a place to sleep tonight,” Annette said, “How many extra beds does your place have?”

After arriving, Annette changed into something a little more comfortable, which is to say, not her pants. The tank top and boyshorts she wore underneath sufficed as clothing for her, but with twice the comfort. Bill insisted they would be alone. Plus, to him, nothing was wrong with having a young lady strut around the house in her undergarments.

Alone they weren't. Someone else was rummaging around the kitchen when he saw Annette for himself.

“Is it my lucky day?” the mystery person asked, in a male voice that was almost fully-developed, but still shrill with teenhood. He even chuckled at such a jackpot standing in front of him.



Annette may have seen the teen at breakfast a couple times before, or around town, but never caught his name before then. He introduced himself as Shark Racket. While Shark didn’t mention that he was also Bill’s nephew, it was a pretty easy thing to infer.

“Listen, kid, I know I’m hot. But your uncle Bill is waiting for me and I better get myself upstairs.”

“No, really, what are you actually doing here?” he asked.

“Is that how you’re gonna speak to your future aunt?”

“Look, lady. If you know what’s good for you, you’re going to leave that lazy mooch right now,” he said.



“You better not speak about family that way!” she yelled, a tiny bit of fire filling her dark eyes. “No matter what, they’re family.” Shark stared at her with disbelief in his green eyes, unshaken, if a little speechless for fifteen seconds.



“Knowing him, good luck on actually becoming my aunt” Shark said, with a hearty laugh after, “You’re just so naive.”

That kid! The only saving grace about him, to Annette, was that he was a pretty nice piece of eye candy. Well-built, with shaggy brown hair and puppy-dog eyes. Shark would be nice to watch while he hauled away statues for Harwood, or if he took his shirt off in the summer heat while tending a garden.

But no matter what girlish, teasing thing she thought about her future nephew, it was all shallow in the end. She devoted herself to the project of winning over Bill, who was more cuddly and of legal age. Getting the commitmentphobe to commit. And getting some woohoo that night. She needed an easy project like that, too.



“Fine. I can just fluff the pillows more.” Annette rested on the mattress, caressed by bedsprings and a fluffed pillow, finally able to rest lying down instead of sitting up. “In fact, I really can stay like this,” she muttered.

“Nah. We both need some fun tonight.” He took off his sunglasses and threw his denim jacket over the desk chair. "You're the first girl I didn't have to ask to dress like that."

"Hopefully you'll take your shirt off without me asking, too."



Let’s just say that Annette woke up refreshed in the morning. That, and she swore that she left the Rackets with some leftover pancake mix. Nothing said “good morning” like “pancakes.”



Or Bill laughing at her. That made her morning too.

But with all of the ambition close to bursting out of her heart, Annette never rested with her project. The more she saw Bill each morning, the more her motivation to win his difficult heart over increased. But the more she slept in Bill's mansion, the more her justifiable reasons for doing so faded away. She scrapped any plans to hotwire the family’s VFN Kompensator, or find their bank account credentials.

His heart wasn't the only one to change. As tautological as it sounds, Annette loved Bill because she loved Bill.

One morning, she woke up next to him again and five in the morning, and proceeded downstairs to mix more pancake batter. The Rackets still weren't tired of free pancakes from the main squeeze of their main annoyance. She wanted to wake Bill up with them, for once, but he was already awake. Still in his bathrobe and with unwashed hair, he stood at the top of the stairs.

"I sometimes wonder why you stick with me," he said. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You're like some sick domestic slave fantasy, and it's kind of hot, but no one actually does that."

"I'm a weird person, Bill," said Annette. "I thought you knew me well enough to know that I'm not joking. When I joke, it's a lot different. And when I lie, it looks a lot less obvious."

"So why are you here?"

"I'm in Twinbrook for my own reasons. I'm in your house because...Bill, screw it, it's because I love you. I love the heart that's under there, and all of those grey hairs."

"You do sound more sincere than Julienne," he said. "I hope that's what I'm picking up. And I don't know what I'm feeling for you back."

"It could be love. That's what I'm calling mine." She took his hand in hers. "And I don't know how much you'll like this, but I want to be your official squeeze. Your girlfriend, Bill."

He hesitated and pouted, looking away but still squeezing her hand. After a deep sigh, he looked Annette in the eyes. "I'll give it a try, how about that?



They sealed it with a kiss. Annette melted into it, ready to abandon the idea of breakfast in exchange for preparing Bill for work with some special morning woohoo. She was ready until her phone vibrated once. It was her text tone, from a familiar number.

Amy!

it's been weeks. where are you????

“Oh god,” Annette said with a groan. “Have to cut this one short.”

“Who was that?” he asked.

“None of your business.” She barely put her pants back on before sprinting out the front door.



Amy seemed, safe, through she yawned and stroked the back of her neck in boredom, in front of a finished painting.

“I’m really sorry,” said Annette.

“I mean, it’s okay. There’s only so much I can talk about with Harwood.” Amy sighed. “I just miss my old friends.”

“Take a few nights off” Annette took a quick glance at the painting. “You’re doing really well. Like, as well as a professional. Um, I just watched Parks and Rec for the first time a few weeks ago. So...treat yourself."



Amy then breathed a sigh of relief when she sat down to dinner that night, with a young man seated across from her. Hardly a line in his face, and his voice flowed as smooth as lotion.

“I can’t believe that we’ve barely talked since high school,” she said, “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Me? Cruelly forget about you? I have plenty of other people to do that to. Not you.”



Sinbad Rotter’s stern green eyes lit up under the candlelight. All of him did, from his slender jawline to his brilliant red hair. The little flame’s light bounced off his shiny leather jacket.

“There’s no way that falafel wrap is as delicious as you,” said Amy.

“I am delicious. And you’re a lemon tart.”

“Delicious?” she asked.

“The best dessert around!”



Word Count for this chapter: 1,565
Word Count so far: 8,805

Revised on 2-2-2015

Peanut oil is a stench that really doesn’t leave a person. My brother used to work at a place that uses it, and I think we still have yet to get the smell out of his clothes. It’s gross.

Bill really did autonomously give flowers to Annette, which really caught me off-guard! He wasn't even in the household at the time.
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Offline RaiaDraconis

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 6, 1/29)
« Reply #25 on: January 29, 2014, 09:04:56 AM »
Amy and Sinbad, sitting in a tree... :)

Offline Trident

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 6, 1/29)
« Reply #26 on: January 29, 2014, 03:32:53 PM »
Amy and Sinbad, sitting in a tree... :)

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a nooboo in a nooboo carriage!

Offline Rhoxi

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 6, 1/29)
« Reply #27 on: January 29, 2014, 05:43:43 PM »

Looks like everybody's coupling up to make some original townie offspring! Annette and Bill are oddly cute together.

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 7, 2/1)
« Reply #28 on: February 01, 2014, 12:57:04 AM »
I was on a pretty good schedule with updating, but I can't say that I was feeling my best over the past few days. :-\ I think I can get back on track now.

Amy and Sinbad, sitting in a tree... :)

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a nooboo in a nooboo carriage!

Why of course! But now now, because they're Just Friends (TM).

Looks like everybody's coupling up to make some original townie offspring! Annette and Bill are oddly cute together.

Gotta start the coupling early! Before everyone goes barren or dead. Annette and Bill are definitely oddly cute. That shared Inappropriate trait went a long way!



Chapter 7: Down in the Drywall



Annette almost texted Shark with I could sock you in the face right now.

Somehow, he wrangled her cellphone number. By somehow, I mean that he took his uncle’s phone for a few minutes and found who sent the most suggestive texts and lewd photos. Annette got out from work one night to two unread texts on her phone.

leave while you still can

woohoo tonight?

So she thought about it, as she sat in a chair outside the diner. One lone cicada clung to a branch in an oak tree out back and sang as if it was his last night to find a mate, which was good for him, but something that bugged Annette. She fidgeted with her phone in the meanwhile, checking social networking sites and news sites and flipping through them with glazed-over eyes. Until those two texts got to her, and that lone cicada kept singing and singing.

“Oh fine,” she muttered, tapping out two text messages and slyly smiling.

Hey there cutie. ;) Meet me at the esplanade around 10

I’ll leave him. Meet me at my place round midnight

All of that Racket evil might have rubbed off on her.

An hour later, the skies started weeping while Annette stood in the warm summer rain, right outside of Twinbrook Esplanade. It was too late for her shirt not to get soaked, but after half an hour, a black van with tinted windows pulled up to the side with a screech. Even through the obscured glass, she was pretty sure that Bill was behind the wheel.



“Couldn’t get the Kompensator?” she asked.

“I wish.”

“Oh, and we’re going back to my place.”

“The vacant lot?” he asked.

“Regrettably.”



As they pulled up the Waverly estate, it was still so vacant, except for the odd art supplies and bare necessities without walls. However, Harwood’s chainsaw still droned on, to the rhythm of the summertime cicadas. Puddles formed on the lawn, right near every piece of furniture. The old wooden rocking chair they bought even started to soften and rot after so many nights in the rain.

“Here’s my pathetic little place,” said Annette, “And to think that I’m stupid enough to ask you to live here.”

“I’ll do it,” Bill said, as if in a haste.

“What sort of personality swap happened?”

“You see, it’s a pitiful setup you have. But it sure beats living with my family. As long as none of them come over here, I’ll gladly live with you.”

Instead of coming clean about the text she sent to Shark, she instead hugged him with all of her waifish strength. Annette also asked him for his bank account details. 10,000 in savings, plus whatever else he could pawn off, and whatever else he could get for the getaway van he "borrowed."

For maybe one blissful hour, the entire household existed in peace. Two lovers, and two roommates without a grudge (and a dog). Then, a Big Lemon sped up to the lot, parked with a screech, and out stumbled a newly-young adult Shark Racket. His rich parents didn't intervene with his fashion. Shark was stuck with an ill-fitting t-shirt and rolled-up pants. His split-second smile soon dissolved into his mouth agape with disgust.



“You lied to me,” he said in a snarling, low voice.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Shark’s green eyes burned with rage upon merely seeing his uncle on the lot.

“I live here. What the hell are you doing here?”



So much for the peace. Fists flew, and two big men had too much potential to injure or maim one another. Shark, being a weight category below Bill, eventually got thrown to the ground. Meanwhile, Annette just backed away. Back all the way into Amy, avoiding her paintbrush and a load of canary-yellow paint.

“Things might be changing,” said Annette, looking away from Amy and into the night sky. "It's now two rich men and their soap opera."

“Rich men...does this mean we get walls?” asked Amy.

“Hey, there's that! Lots of drywall. And nothing else for a bit.”



“I can’t express how thankful I am for walls!” She then yelled “WALLS!” as she approached a new, powder-blue van parked by the curb.

“So I splurged,” said Annette, “They call it the Motive Magenta. You feel really refreshed after sitting in those plush seats, or that's how they sold it, anyways.”

Of course I sat in that Motive Magenta. Those plush seats are indeed the softest things around. But the five and Sagebear took a test drive that night, spending the night with one of Amy’s friends until they came home to not a house, but an acceptable drywall shell. It had ceilings, completed art studios, a few bits of furniture, and bank accounts bled dry.



Annette might have set aside some money for new wardrobes, too. The well-used dresser she found at a discount price had a top drawer that liked to stick. It stuck enough to defeat Bill that night, but maybe fighting Shark winded him a little more than he thought.



He took off his sunglasses, threw on a new jacket, and called it a night.



“I can imagine some large windows, right there!” said Annette, pointing at more barren drywall, without even holes for windows. “Maybe some more sofas.”

“We’re broke, babe,” Bill said.

She sat back down.



“It’s still a trainwreck, isn’t it? And I don’t think we’re allowed back at the old mansion.”

“We can make it work, I guess. Some big windows would look nice there.”



The night ended beautifully for those two, as they closed it with a kiss before crashing on the sofa. Annette flopped over, her head on the armrest, when she said “I just hope Shark finds something he likes.” Her voice was weak and tired.

“He can starve, for all I care,” said Bill.

“Yeah, but realistically, he needs something so he doesn’t make us starve. Something to take his mind off all that bad blood.” Her blue eyes soon hid under her eyelids, and the sound of her partner snoring a deafening snore next to her lulled Annette into a deep sleep.



The sound of Shark’s chisel the next room over might have too. Earlier that night, as his world changed forever, he struck a block of clay in the corner with anger. He was a few steps away from destroying the whole thing until Harwood grabbed his arm and told him that if he’s going to damage the clay, he better do something useful with it.

“I was once an angry young man,” said Harwood, “And then I started to sculpt! I see a lot of that in you too.” So Shark grabbed a chisel and made a misshapen table by the end of the night. It was a far cry from the perfect human forms that Harwood made, with even their eyelashes rendered in ice, but he had time to improve. Just not a lot of it, depending on how long his old mentor could stick around for.



But in between sculptures, Shark found his way to the dresser, and to the optometrist, just to correct some slight myopia.



While they worked, Annette also worked. She spent some mornings in the library, her nose buried in cookbooks, in hopes of slightly quicker promotions. Sagebear hunted and kept finding common ores and uncut diamonds, sometimes even an uncut moonstone, but it all sold for pennies in the end. Annette worked a bit of overtime each night, in hopes of bringing in the income that her collection of housemates needed. She prayed each night for Sagebear to strike it lucky and make a substantial profit.



One morning, Bill brushed Sagebear after she came back from an all-night hunt, and found a pile of fluorescent-green ores in his lap. They were covered in dog slobber. After finishing up on the most difficult crevices next to Sagebear’s ear, Bill took his new haul over the esoteric elixir shop on the edge of town. He cut a few gems, and laid them on the counter at home.



The tiberium spires glowed with a mighty glow and grew even mightier. Annette noticed that one night after work, when they all were eight inches tall and lighting up the room.

“My oh my,” she said, “It all looks so nice. The gems, and you in that suit. You can’t blame me for falling in love.”

“Get in your underwear again, and I’ll agree.”



Annette nearly fell into Bill’s arms, unusually queasy, which then became far less unusual when she looked up “tiberium” on her smartphone. Radioactive. Of course. She would miss their glow, but not poverty once they sold for a vast sum.



Nor would she miss dry-heaving on the porch, either.

One night after work, Annette returned to her drywall shell, but from that night onwards, wallpaper and wood paneling covered the walls. Carpets and pale hardwoods hid the cement floors. And her kitchen was spacious, and rivaled any other in Twinbrook.

Oh yes, she could enjoy that with Bill.



If only he had more time to.



Word Count for this chapter: 1,546
Word Count so far: 10,351

Revised on 2-2-2015

Shark is the official reason I said "okay, let's inbreed." It doesn't bother me too much, because his closest blood relation to the main Waverlys was that he and generation two were cousins. And Shark gets most of his looks from his mother, who is not a blood-Racket. Easy to go forward a few generations, breed third cousins together, and think nothing of it.
No respect, no chance, cease and desist when I chant-

Forum Rules / DecaDynasty / Defunded

Offline saltpastillen

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Re: Eight Ways to Live Forever: The Waverly Immortal Dynasty (Ch. 7, 2/1)
« Reply #29 on: February 01, 2014, 04:19:06 AM »
Lol, it's the sims, who cares if you inbreed.

Love Shark's makeover - very artsy!