Author Topic: Family In Mind  (Read 332 times)

JessieJJJ

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Family In Mind
« on: September 16, 2019, 05:36:35 PM »
Family In Mind

Hi, hello, good day! Long time, no forum posting, but I've decided after, I'd like to say 30000 years since last posting, that I'd bring back my activity on this lovely forum! I have been playing the Sims on and off for the past year, but I have recently been playing two Random Legacy families, which has really made me inspired in the game. This story will be showcasing the two families' stories, the Dumont's and the Dior's. Although the Dior's have just hit generation 2, the Dumont's have been around for longer, and so there may be some unanswered things that isn't very obvious from the start, due to the fact that the founder has already died.

But yes, enough rambling, maybe it's time for a fun, exciting chapter! Well, actually, its a bit bleak.

JessieJJJ

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1. Dumont
« Reply #1 on: September 16, 2019, 06:14:54 PM »
Dumont

Family.

Family is one of the most important things in anyone's life. It can build you up, make you better, but it can also make you break.
Cold had taken over Twinbrook, turning the lake into an icy wonderland surrounded by the snow-covered trees. Chimney's were pushing hot smoke into atmosphere. It made the town look even more gloomy than before. However, the residents brought about, a sort of, juxtaposition to this. The residents of the town were what made the town special, unique to the others in the world. This is what drew Bernice and Henry to the town all those years ago, and it is where their bodies lay to rest to this day. Alas, they live on through their daughter and their grandchildren, and soon-to-be great-grandchildren

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'What I don't understand is why she has to have them so young, I mean she's just graduated for Christ's sake!'
Carina wrote the final words to her sentence as her wife continued her ranting. She was used to this, having been from an Bull-Brandt household, she understood the best way to let someone let our their anger, was to vent. The radiator rumbled as Carina turned off the computer, she looked around her late father-in-laws office, wondering if they said the same for Marigold.
'Mar, you do sound like a hypocrite sometimes', Carina quipped, 'I'm not gonna lie'.

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The problem for Marigold, deep down was that she never understood her daughter. Perhaps it was due to her working late nights. Perhaps it was due to her messy divorce that Dusty had to experience at such a young age. Perhaps it was due to her coming out at such a late age leading to previously mentioned messy divorce. Perh- , perhaps she answered her own question.
'I just wish', she paused, 'that she would take on a real job, something with a future, something with a steady salary and not some hobby I let her dabble at when she was younger'.
Carina paused for a moment. She looked her wife in the eyes and saw something she had not seen in her eyes in awhile, true sincerity. This may come as a shock to others, but Carina had experienced only the rocker, rebellious side to her beloved, but never the familial side.

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'I mean, you can always talk to her.' Carina felt as though she was teaching a new mother how to deal with her children. She thought she'd be doing this to one of children, and not someone with 19 years of parenting on their belt. Standing up, she sighed and murmured something to do with her back and walked out of the room. Marigold was left with her own thoughts. No new lyrics entered her mind. Only mist circled her brain. She was heading into unknown territory, something her mother had also experienced all those years ago. It's funny how history does that, it always repeats itself.

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Almost simultaneously, Dusty was getting ready for bed. The only feeling she had was aching. She thought of taking a bath. Too tired. She thought of taking a shower. Too tired. She looked at herself in the mirror and cursed her boyfriend under her breath. 'Why doesn't he get to suffer?'. She put on her slippers and walked out the bathroom. The conservatory was cold during winter, the floorboards were in a way, very similar to the lake in town. Icy cold and could break in any minute. Dusty was warned before she had moved in to her studio permanently, but she knew the only way a creative can set their mind to something, was to live in their own creations. And she did just that, well almost.

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Scrap laid on her table, almost tempting her to finish that Miner for old Chase Bayless in the swamps. She knew not to put it off, 'She was old when I was your age', her mother told her, 'If you don't finish it soon, they'll be using it to dig her grave!'. Her mother always had a dark sense of humour, and as Dusty got older, she understood it more and more. She began to see her mother not as a roommate, but as who she is, who she represents, what she did for her. She touched the scrap and touched her belly. A kick. Her little trooper will have all they ever wanted, all they ever needed. It helped she could make a toy in less than an hour.

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It had finally struck the next day. 00:01 her clock glared as she laid in bed. It was hard to fall asleep when you worry so much about the future. Dusty sat up and looked at her family photograph on her bedside table. It was taken when she was a kid, at the Winter Festival, exactly 10 years ago. Her father was smiling whilst holding her little sister. It looked like an ad for a resort or some kind of weird laundry thing. It made her chuckle, remembering the snowball fights and her mother trying to snowboard, failing miserably. She turned off the light and went to bed with only one thought in her head.

Why worry about the future, when you never really know where life will take you.



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JessieJJJ

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2. Dior
« Reply #2 on: September 16, 2019, 06:59:06 PM »
Dior

As Twinbrook fell asleep, Lucky Palms was still enjoying the final moments of sunshine in the day. The sun was deemed too hot in the afternoon, raising the temperature to almost 45║c by noon, turning the residents into almost vampires retreating into their lairs. Palms trees swayed as the gentle summer breeze whisked through the valley, almost like a perfect wind machine that constantly blew in the exact direction. It makes sense for the land of the rich and famous. The Hills were the only parts of the city that had the most exquisite and most divine luxury of

Grass. That wasn't dead.

And it is here in the Hills, where scandal runs rampant, like rapids, through the streets. Around every corner, there's an affair, or scandal, or secret baby, or even murder, but I'm just getting ahead of myself. In some cases, however, family ties still run deep

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The soft sound of piano filled the house. Although Cleo had just started learning, it was as if she had been playing all her life. It seemed she could achieve anything. She had become a certified international superstar, gained a permanent place in both the Lucky Palm's elite, but also the fastest growing local business to date, the movie industry. Nothing could possibly deter her, she was on top. Of course, that is what you see from the outlook. From within, she was experiencing an inner turmoil far deeper than anyone could imagine. The loss of her son last year had lead her into a personal spiral, which had been confined only to herself; Not seen by the public, not seen by her lovers, not seen by her own daughter. A part of her had melted away, and her only escape was music and the devil's juice. Taking one last sip of her wine, she sighed and played one last note. B.

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Her melody was not the only to be heard in the house that night. This house was special in a way. It was the newest one in the neighbourhood, being specially designed for Cleo, and featured a sunken garden hidden from prying eyes. Perhaps the most amazing was the medical marvel of an Imaginary friend turned real by none other than Vivienne Dior. Although it seems she regrets it now.
'It just sounds like banging Cosmo', she joked, laying on her bed, almost gawking at her roommate like a groupie with backstage access.
'Well, Viv, I'll have you know, that's high-key what drumming is', he chucked to himself and continued on with his practise. Cosmo had felt ,as a way to distract Vivienne from her other thoughts, that drumming was the only way to grab her attention. It's not common for the girl to give her undying attention to the drummer of the band, over the guitarist or the lead singer, but Cosmo seemed to have the glint in his eye that always intrigued Vivienne. It didn't help that they shared a room, with the move from her other house leading to a size downgrade, she felt more and more close to Cosmo, in both an emotional and literal sense.

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She rolled her eyes, and got up from her bed. She looked at the waves of heat escaping the ground, as if the outside world was in a haze. She turned to look at the pool, only to close her eyes and feel something she usually never feels, vulnerability. The pool must be filled in, she thought, I can't bear it anymore. She touched the glass and turned to listen to the banging of the drums.

It had gotten late, but for Cleo, it was the only time she could venture without the paparazzi's attention. She left a salad and a note for Vivienne and sneaked off in her Bwan Speedster down the streets of the Palms. The night had brought a refreshing coolness to the valley. The wind had been replaced with a winter breeze from the North. It was as if you could smell the smog of a little town that Cleo had never heard of in the air. Racing through the streets, she made her stop for the night. Cleo had expanded to seek comfort from many others around her, but she always went back to one man in her life. And that man, was Donnovan Steel. His blue eyes and copper hair allured her into his arms. He was her normal, in her otherwise hectic life. But of course, life would be boring if everything went correctly, and the tabloids heard it before her. 'Yolanda Shaw and Police Officer Engaged to be Married, Rumours of a Shotgun Wedding?'. Cleo vowed to never trust him, but here she was, visiting a newly single Steel, in the dead of night.

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They grew closer as the night grew darker. A bond so deep and passionate, you can never break it. Vivienne was a product of this, and if anything, she is the embodiment of their relationship. Irresistible, beautiful, with a side of cunning and deceit. Donnovan was laying low after his divorce with Yolanda, and Cleo couldn't bear another scandal to hit the press, so their rekindling stayed secret. Their love stayed solely in each other's houses; Like a precious artefact. That was what Cleo had always wanted, a fairytale romance with a dashing prince. They never say how fragile the foundation those stories were wrote on.

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The deed was done and Lucky Palms grew silent for the night. 00:01 the clock glared and Cleo sighed and turned to face her lover. She closed her eyes and Donnovan finally saw the cracks in her flawless, movie-star skin. The cracks of heartbreak. Of betrayal. Of death. He now saw her as who she was. A woman mourning the loss of her youth, her stability, and her son. In this moment he thought,

Why worry about the future, when there is still so much of the past to uncover.


Online Trip

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Re: Family In Mind
« Reply #3 on: September 18, 2019, 11:19:57 AM »
Welcome back from 30,000 years and wondering how these two chapters will tie together of course.
No respect, no chance, cease and desist when I chant-

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JessieJJJ

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Re: Family In Mind
« Reply #4 on: September 24, 2019, 04:33:53 PM »
Welcome back from 30,000 years and wondering how these two chapters will tie together of course.

Thank you for the support, it's lovely to stalk the forum yet again!

JessieJJJ

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3. Dior
« Reply #5 on: September 24, 2019, 05:14:57 PM »
Dior

Vivienne

Tuesday is a weird day. It's strange how days work. One day, you're busy, one day you're free, and one day you lose so much and gain so little. I think this might be my morning brain talking.

The butler used to make a fresh breakfast every morning, but since Mum has been MIA in the movie business, we've had to cut back. It's understandable, but I wish she would think of her other child. The one that all of her behaviour is truly affecting.

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The smell of refrigerated pancake swarm my nostrils. It smells like the embodiment of brain freeze, it's strange. I eat breakfast alone every day. It allows me to think. To plan. To ponder. It is mostly due to the fact that I wake up earlier than everyone else in the house. The radio plays behind main the kitchen, hearing my Mum's name every now and then is a weird thing to get used to, so I usually change it to SimRadio3, where all the music is.

She's a hurricane, feel the Earth shake

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I drive to my personal prison every single day. It's corny to call it a prison, but it's true. I never quite understand why she never sent me to boarding school. It makes sense, I mean, I've grown up as pompous as I would've in some all-girls school like in that Emma Robert's movie, what was it? Wild Simsie? The car was a gift from my Mum. She regifted from some guy she used to have a fling with before she was properly famous. It still has his initials in the keys. J. Hendrix? I don't really know. It's weird that I don't know who he is, I mean he might my dad. Actually, any bachelor in Lucky Palms could be my dad.

If the devil was asleep, she'd knock him wide awake

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Pulling up to school, I notice all the, let's say interesting, people lining up at the door. The Hudson twins smell like beef, while the Northop-Reid girl sucks up to me like a lollipop. The thing is, I'm not the only celebrity kid at school. This area is like the budget-version of Bridgeport, where all the actors come to 'raise a family', however you'd like to call moving to the Canyon. I mean, there's the Shaw boys, the King's, I mean even that ginger Lancaster with the Uncle who's the same age as him, which doesn't get confusing at all. All I know is that the only person worth my time in front of that school is Cosmo. He's the only one that gets what's going on behind my ice-queen facade. God, I'm a walking embodiment of Heather Chandler.

Cleo

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14:34

The sunlight beams into my room as I wake up, touching my toes to the cold floor. The house is empty, with the only sound being the hose from the gardener out back. I sigh and get ready for the day, well afternoon now. It's a Tuesday, the first day back to the studio since Laurent. I feel like it's my first day again and I'm making coffee for Lina Lancaster on the set of Simvengers. It was a lot simpler then, I didn't have to deal with the pettiness and deceitfulness of the press. The exposure to the corruption of the movie world. The loss of my innocence. I breathe, look into the mirror, and get dressed.

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I can hear the radio playing downstairs, Viv always leaves it on for me as a way of saying, 'Yes, I'm alive and I had breakfast, mother'. A classic is on today. The Chain by Fleetwood Sim. Going down the stairs, my anxiety kicks in. 'What if I fail?', 'What if I forget my lines?', 'What if the forget hair and make-up and I have to go on without make-up, an everyone realises that I age and am not a lizard from a different planet?'. Jesus, I'm hyper-ventilating. I need a green smoothie

And if, you don't love me now.
You will never love me again.


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Before the studio, I visit a place I haven't visited since the funeral. It pains me to say, but I can't find what's in me to bring myself to feel so much pain, and so much regret of the different ways, I could've said goodbye. All the missed opportunities that I lost due to work or relationships or drinking. It's insane how little I prioritised in my youth. I'll never forgive myself.

I can still hear you say,
You would never break the chain.


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Listen to the wind blow,

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Running in the shadows.

 

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