Author Topic: I, Iridessa: What happens at home  (Read 1011 times)

Offline cainspath

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I, Iridessa: What happens at home
« on: March 12, 2015, 08:17:04 AM »
Hello, hello, everyone! I would like to thank and apologize to my readers. I had a lot going on in the past year, six months of it I'm pinning on my ISP (and myself for not switching until too late). And so when I tried to get back to both my stories, I just lost it. I couldn't even find myself in it anymore and honestly, thank you for the patience. I sort of spent half the time twitching through the lines I wrote, especially with Blood of the Mayfair. Although, I can't promise that I won't do the same. This time I'm hoping to continue the story after several years/sim days/generation(s). So. Yes. I believe that your patience deserves compensation. And for my (possibly) new readers, don't worry, you don't have to read the whole Blood of the Mayfair to understand what's going on. I'll be sure to include the important parts (and maybe include notes as necessary). I'll also be sure to catch up on the stories that I've missed in the past year.

The first part, Prologue will mention the "Mayfair Witches." For those who don't know it, and might have forgotten, they were the ones who were going around draining people off their powers so they could have them for themselves. Also, there will be thrice mention of a certain word (or name). Let's just say that my story froze there. Until today.



Links for chapters:
Prologue
The sound of introductions
Where it goes is deeper
What happens at home
At the end of the day, Life should ask you, "Do you want to save changes?"

How the misc-tery continues:
I, Iridessa: 3rd [What happens at home]

Why not try a misc-stery?
Blood of the Mayfair: 32nd [Hail Rain and Sunshine]

or a Reincarnation Project:
Hawke Revival: 26th [Hale Bonding]

Offline cainspath

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Re: I, Iridessa
« Reply #1 on: March 12, 2015, 08:17:39 AM »
Prologue



I was what you would call "what went wrong" in my family. I was the mistake, my birth was the ultimate anathema to the world, a specific world, and to a great horde masquerading as a family called the Mayfair Witches. And although I might as well be named Anathema, I'm not. I am Iridessa- that is how I call myself, and that's how others call me.

And while I relish this and my following entries for my consumption, I'm afraid I can't shun the possibility of having someone pick up this book, or diary, or journal as you wish to call it, and find himself interested. This may be called a history, or a revelation, but this book, while I enjoy it, is a memoir. And its greater purpose is that some day, I will have to face the fact that all my memories will leave me, even before I will have to leave this body. But I suppose now is not the time to be depressing over this matter.

As for introductions, I'd like to make it proper. Both for myself and for the stranger who picks up this book.

I am Iridessa, and I was born to a family of secrets- one which not only harbors them, but breeds them with a savage and grotesque sense of duty. My family bred secrets like some form of leisure, but if anything, they were dedicated to it. That even when I've had my hands on these secrets, despite my knowledge of what had come and became of these secrets, they were still unfathomable. Simply, the selfishness and the greed metamorphosed to a level that I can't name, but can describe in detail in my following entries. Self, intruder, I'm writing this so that, in the future I can remember, and so that my children, and my children's children will know what secrets lie within each being, and what worlds their eyes sunk into. For now, more than anything, please do not forget what you should remember:

Iridessa.
And while you may think of the rainbow sky, or the colors that dance on a drop of water and an empty glass of wine against the light, you must think of the darkness along with this majestic spray of light.

Iridessa.
While it is the name by which you call yourself and others call you, know that you are your own anathema. And that both your brother, and your father had sacrificed their lives to save you.

Iridessa.
Your family had secrets. You watched the ones you loved the most fade into the void, be reminded of the bitterness. But most of all, never forget what had come before it.


I am Iridessa, and my family had secrets.
I can only ever have confessions.


I, Iridessa
At the end of the day, Life should ask you, "Do you want to save changes?"

How the misc-tery continues:
I, Iridessa: 3rd [What happens at home]

Why not try a misc-stery?
Blood of the Mayfair: 32nd [Hail Rain and Sunshine]

or a Reincarnation Project:
Hawke Revival: 26th [Hale Bonding]



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Offline cainspath

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The sound of introductions
« Reply #2 on: March 14, 2015, 11:27:58 AM »
The sound of introductions

This story has a rambling narrator which dutifully calls itself It with a capital i. As a consequence of referring to itself in third person, the narrator often finds itself getting involved- mainly by making everything about It. Such is the case of what's happening now.
Simply, the narrator has issues:

The problem with stories is that they almost always have to have a beginning, somewhere. Most often, the first words to a story are the introductions. And this particular narrator sucks at introductions, such that whatever It comes up with for an introduction as Its solution, the problem transforms from "How do I start?" into "Where do I go from here?"

Well. Enough about the narrator.

Except with a pseudo-last note, journey into this story with a reminder:
There's a particular perspective to this, it is therefore to your best interest to have your own imagination run wild.
For now.

And because spontaneity is not Its best feat,

Say hello the head of the family, because "Pay respects to-" sounds outrightly rude to the living, Aiden Nix.
The narrator is particularly fond of Aiden Nix. Very. A very important detail.
Aiden in this life- he's lived other lives, had other spouses, kids (who knows)- is an aspiring superstar athlete. He's almost there, but he's stuck. And by the looks of him, you'd say he's distracted, surfing in winter.



Is there anything else you should know?

Silence.
As expected.

Well, that's Aiden. The next ones are introduced by virtue of age.

David. The eldest son. He's meticulous (not everyone sees it, though). He loves to cook, likes to make things with his hands and have people shove such things into their throat in near desperation. If he's lucky, then these things will be eloquently consumed. In the end, it's all about consumption, no matter how gracefully you phrase food and mouth together. As consequence, or who knows, it could be the cause of this evil, he takes Home Ec, but for a different motivation, and entirely a different love of something. His hobbies include letting the youngest copy his homework, cooking, cooking, tolerating his brothers, and cooking. He also plays lacrosse. Or at least wants to.



Jacob. The rebellious one. While he hasn't done anything serious, almost none of anything he ever does is. Jacob is Jacob. He likes a girl in school, and in some weird sort of way he never grew out of bullying the girl he likes. Her name's Aslin, and right now she's not important. She will be. But not now. Why else would she be mentioned? Don't answer that. Now is about Jacob, who loves playing table tennis with Isaac. Like David, he plays lacrosse. The problem is, he does it in his sleep. Or dreams. The point is, sleep, to Jacob, is number one. Aslin? Aslin is debatable. Rude, you say? It's complicated.



Then, Isaac. Ike for short. Ike for the lazy. Ike for almost everybody except his mother and most of the time, the narrator. Right now he's Ike. He copies David's homework, but thankfully hasn't made a habit of it. He plays table tennis with Jacob, and he always wins- as far as the latest count of 27-0. On those several times he hadn't cheated, in case you're worried. But that's as far as that goes, no words will be put to your mouth, nor planted in your head, whichever is appropriate for this teenager's defense. He has rather keen senses. But he doesn't play lacrosse- in any way.



Like all families, this one has a mother. Only that she's dead. But that's all for now.

On second thought, the Nix woman is a witch of a mother in its literal sense. She left them cats.
One is Orsino, the cat that shan't be shamed.



And Serpentine, with her ways.



But it could be the other way around. It is confused by their behavior that It mistakes them for the other.

Among other things that may befit this introduction are matters like:
Aiden tries to be a father to his sons (and so far he's doing a good job). They even work out together! (Don't look for David, he's somewhere in his own world).



Two of which inherited their mother's witchiness (whatever, however this word is really called is none of Its concern); 
The youngest son's a wolf.
Oh right, the youngest one's a splitting image of his father. Or is it the eldest? Like so. Conclusion? That just makes Aiden a wolf, too.
That sums up everything into:

Witches and wolves- this is where the story begins.
Along with the ramblings of the narrator in third person; that way It feels like It belongs. But mostly for It to feel like It isn't just there to look at them blindly and stupidly as It tells a tale.
Because unlike death, It really doesn't have anything to do, except tell a story.

Concern tails after the clamor, the narrator reaches a dilemma: where does it go from here?


1. I forgot to put Anne Rice as reference for the whole "Mayfair Witches" thing. I only borrowed the name "Mayfair Witch" but her (Rice) witches are different, like really different.
2. I've also obtained permission from LivvieLove to use Aiden Nix for this story. I've been a big fan of her stories (and Aiden) that I couldn't let up the chance for me to use Aiden to pass for this (Mayfair) revival.
3. I hadn't realized that my settings are set differently, hence the size of the photo (800 x 451). I don't know of anyway to comply with the 800 x 600 standard without redoing my playthrough. So sorry!
PS. It looks like I ripped off Tinkerbell's friend of her name.
At the end of the day, Life should ask you, "Do you want to save changes?"

How the misc-tery continues:
I, Iridessa: 3rd [What happens at home]

Why not try a misc-stery?
Blood of the Mayfair: 32nd [Hail Rain and Sunshine]

or a Reincarnation Project:
Hawke Revival: 26th [Hale Bonding]

Offline LivvieLove

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Re: I, Iridessa: Prologue
« Reply #3 on: March 14, 2015, 07:16:06 PM »
Oh my gosh it's my Aiden! I'm so happy! :3
I couldn't wait to get home from work to read this! I'm so excited, the boys are so handsome!

:) I'll be reading! :D :D :D

Offline cainspath

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Re: I, Iridessa: Prologue
« Reply #4 on: March 14, 2015, 07:34:33 PM »
Quote
Oh my gosh it's my Aiden! I'm so happy! :3
I couldn't wait to get home from work to read this! I'm so excited, the boys are so handsome!

:) I'll be reading! :D :D :D

I'm as happy to have Aiden in this story (I'm nearing obsession with him)! They turned out quite well, and I'm still trying to decide whether it's David or Isaac that looks more like Aiden. I guess my decision will be cemented with what fresh eyes have to say (see). And unlike the Hawke triplets, they're not as identical as I initially hoped them to be, but it's all good. *chuckles
At the end of the day, Life should ask you, "Do you want to save changes?"

How the misc-tery continues:
I, Iridessa: 3rd [What happens at home]

Why not try a misc-stery?
Blood of the Mayfair: 32nd [Hail Rain and Sunshine]

or a Reincarnation Project:
Hawke Revival: 26th [Hale Bonding]

Offline cainspath

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I, Iridessa: Where it goes is deeper
« Reply #5 on: March 18, 2015, 04:01:23 AM »
Where it goes is deeper

It is motivated to tell you about two girls in a rather romantic way, without involving Itself. You see, it's really hard. It is self-absorbed after all.

Through her eyes, she sees many things. Through the eyes of her camera, she sees more. Yet she remains unsatisfied, frozen in a picturesque motion of stroking her hair, delicate fingers combing almost-seaweed green hair that smells of elusive wildflowers in spring. If she had a choice, she'd want to smell faintly of muskmelon and milk. "Ah, milk!" she sighed, yearning for that sweet, even musky flavor seeping through her mouth. "Delicious," she thinks, but she could already taste it. And then she looked at the mirror, her vanity, and stared into the eyes of her reflection. She reached out to touch the fingertips that sought to touch hers, and then she smiled. It was the smile of a shadowed moon.



Tuk. Softer, tok. Tok. Three raps at the door, but she won't hear.

Tuk, tok. She was peering into her own eyes. Tok. She was just raising her fingers to the mirror. She didn't hear, until the sudden creak which fell to a monotonous, almost quiet sound. "Aslin, startled?" it was more a comment than a question from a girl with lustrous byzantium hair, half a woman, but more a girl. Now, Aslin, for both purpose and tacit refusal, replied, "Rattled." The other girl walked around Aslin's room, circling it, because it was fun. A quarter song later, she was lying in Aslin's bed. A full song later, Aslin sat cooed into her own little space on the bed, which was generously left for her.

"Ah, I'm worn!" the girl with lustrous hair exclaimed, talking about lying on Aslin's bed. Aslin didn't respond, who just stared back at her. She was prompted to ask, "You're not going to ask why I'm invading your room?" to which Aslin replied, "I'm used to it. You'll be out sooner than I expect you to be, anyway. You always." "You're always welcome in my room," she gave a sort of pout, suppressing a smile that already escaped her lips. "I would never go anywhere near your room." "Except for baths?" "Yeah, except for baths." "And toilet-" "Is closer to my room. I have my own bathroom, for crying out loud!" "Ah, this talk about parameters, Aslin!" "Get out, Mari." there was no hint of cruelty, only vacancy. Vacant words. "Ouch," claimed Mari. "Yeah, yeah, love you, too," this phrase had always been Aslin's saving grace. But Mari was never seriously hurt, like she isn't now.



The girls drifted to a dream that felt and screamed like a memory. It reeked of a memory. Whatever it was, they both had it- an ill-mouthed mother who may have never seen the slightest kindness and as result has never shown it; nor felt the kind of love the hopeless would die for, hence never embraced anyone with it. Maybe that was why they were how they were, in a solemn mansion owned by their kind, loving father, one who was, and still hopelessly rich; and bored, but no longer with his life, that he hitched twins for a roller coaster ride.

"So, about Papa, does he know?" Mari asked, breaking the dream. Aslin answered, "I haven't told Papa anything. You know how weird he is when it comes to those kind of stuff." Both girls pondered for a moment at how everyone else reveled at how they were so diligent in calling their father "Papa," and never "Dad" nor by his name. Ever. That's it. Off they were taken away for a brief moment, and back they were to their conversation. Realizing that it was her turn to pitch in the conversation, Mari agreed and even added, "Yeah, skeptical." "No, just weird. Reluctant, suspicious." "Clumsy!" Mari exclaimed, containing her amusement, "He still finds your hair weird, you know. After that. And until that, people at school still couldn't tell between us." "My hair frustrates you?" "It frustrates Papa." "He probably feels the same about your hair," Aslin replied, and looked at her twin deviously, remembering how Mari had orchestrated switches for the love of it, and for the fun of it, but mostly to bully Jacob. Aslin certainly missed those days. So did Mari. Especially Mari. "You like Jacob, but you bully him. And you're supposed to be the mature one." "A few minutes don't matter, when it really comes down to it. It's good to wear around as a medal, though, when it's convenient." Aslin retorted, "Spoken like a true manipulator." "Yeah, and he likes you. That's why he bullies you, too." Mari smiled a slightly pained smile, no bitterness. Not that anyone can point out. "What are you scheming this time?" Aslin veered the conversation. "Oh, the same, old thing."
They both thought about Jacob.



Bah, twins.


The door out of the bedroom looks out of place.
PS.
Poses, whenever I use them, are Skylar's, Fairsteadsims and Chibikins, Kilhian, Delight33 Studio,and Red. Many thanks to them!
At the end of the day, Life should ask you, "Do you want to save changes?"

How the misc-tery continues:
I, Iridessa: 3rd [What happens at home]

Why not try a misc-stery?
Blood of the Mayfair: 32nd [Hail Rain and Sunshine]

or a Reincarnation Project:
Hawke Revival: 26th [Hale Bonding]

Offline LivvieLove

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Re: I, Iridessa: Where it goes is deeper
« Reply #6 on: March 18, 2015, 07:01:05 PM »
Haha, I love the narration, Itself is quite funny!

Poor Jacob... is this the same Jacob? Getting bullied is no fun, but I bet those girls probably like him. If he's Aiden's spawn I can't imagine why they wouldn't at least!

Also, I can't wait to see those boys up close and personal. :) THEN we'll see who is REALLY Aiden's look-alike.



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Offline cainspath

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Re: I, Iridessa: Where it goes is deeper
« Reply #7 on: March 23, 2015, 05:18:51 AM »
Haha, I love the narration, Itself is quite funny!

Thanks! This is the part of me that wanted to break out in Blood of the Mayfair. Actually, scroll down a little...

Poor Jacob... is this the same Jacob? Getting bullied is no fun, but I bet those girls probably like him. If he's Aiden's spawn I can't imagine why they wouldn't at least!

(Un)fortunately(?) it is the same Jacob. Well, the bullying isn't so bad. Mari does most of it, though.

Also, I can't wait to see those boys up close and personal. :) THEN we'll see who is REALLY Aiden's look-alike.

We'll get to that soon, seeing how I have some explaining to do:

So, I was writing the next chapter for this (Iridessa's part) when I've come up with all sorts of things that don't make sense, well, made sense if you were reading Blood, leading me to whimsically decide that I'm going to revive it from the grave. I'm already on the finishing touches (of something like three chapters, there's more though), although I still haven't asked any moderator to put it back up. I wanted the chapters to be ready before I asked. I just haven't the time now to actually finish it up.

I'm feeling apologetic for the tendency to flip for both stories, I  really am.   :-\
At the end of the day, Life should ask you, "Do you want to save changes?"

How the misc-tery continues:
I, Iridessa: 3rd [What happens at home]

Why not try a misc-stery?
Blood of the Mayfair: 32nd [Hail Rain and Sunshine]

or a Reincarnation Project:
Hawke Revival: 26th [Hale Bonding]

Offline LivvieLove

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Re: I, Iridessa: Where it goes is deeper
« Reply #8 on: March 26, 2015, 11:35:36 PM »
Thanks! This is the part of me that wanted to break out in Blood of the Mayfair. Actually, scroll down a little...

(Un)fortunately(?) it is the same Jacob. Well, the bullying isn't so bad. Mari does most of it, though.

We'll get to that soon, seeing how I have some explaining to do:

So, I was writing the next chapter for this (Iridessa's part) when I've come up with all sorts of things that don't make sense, well, made sense if you were reading Blood, leading me to whimsically decide that I'm going to revive it from the grave. I'm already on the finishing touches (of something like three chapters, there's more though), although I still haven't asked any moderator to put it back up. I wanted the chapters to be ready before I asked. I just haven't the time now to actually finish it up.

I'm feeling apologetic for the tendency to flip for both stories, I  really am.   :-\
No apologies needed/required. I totally know how you feel.
I go back and forth with my Reapers, though I'll never get rid of them completely, sometimes I just back away until my inspiration comes back and then I can reapproach the story. Inspiration is key for me though, as if it's not there, the chapters just seem so out of reach.
Take your time with writing. I'll be here. Granted I probably need to re-read all of Blood again, but I will do so while it's slow at work (which is often on a Friday evening, so I'll likely give it a good re-reading tomorrow). I'm just thrilled to see Aiden getting some love. It made me feel all fuzzy inside when you PM'ed me up about it! As long as he has a happy life - no matter how short (or long, hopefully long) that life may be (though perhaps a little longer than what was granted via short-lifespan storyline?).

Offline cainspath

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What happens at home
« Reply #9 on: April 18, 2015, 10:13:52 AM »
No apologies needed/required. I totally know how you feel.
I go back and forth with my Reapers, though I'll never get rid of them completely, sometimes It just back away until my inspiration comes back and then I can reapproach the story. Inspiration is key for me though, as if it's not there, the chapters just seem so out of reach.
Take your time with writing. I'll be here. Granted I probably need to re-read all of Blood again, but I will do so while it's slow at work (which is often on a Friday evening, so I'll likely give it a good re-reading tomorrow). I'm just thrilled to see Aiden getting some love. It made me feel all fuzzy inside when you PM'ed me up about it! As long as he has a happy life - no matter how short (or long, hopefully long) that life may be (though perhaps a little longer than what was granted via short-lifespan storyline?).

Thanks for the support, Livvie! I've got new issues to settle, like how everyone's horrified whenever Isaac's around even in his human form. I mean, seriously, even Aiden (he's a scaredy cat werewolf  >:() and David get scared as shiz. It's only Jacob who doesn't care, I don't know if it has to do with his brave trait. But I'm truly frustrated,  I can't play properly so I end up shutting the game down. There's basically no progress and I can't find solutions off the web. Good luck to me *pats self

And, I can't promise Aiden's happiness. But it'll be a long life. Probably with more than one wife. Kidding(?), anyway I think I have a thing for making my characters heartbroken. I'll do my best making him appropriately happy.  ;)


What happens at home

The point of this chapter is to show you just how self-absorbed It is. And as a side-note, a typical stay-at-home day at the Nix's.
Aside from the constant fainting and peeing whenever they see Isaac consistent laziness going around the house, especially with Isaac, there's some productivity going on. Mostly because it involves playing and destroying stuff inside the house.

Has It told you that the two older Nix's are spell mongers? Oh, please. Of course, It has! They liked to issue casting battles to each other because there was nobody else to issue it with. Not that they can openly invite anyone anyway, but It's glad to tell you that that won't last for long. Mehehehe. As for the catch, wait, catch-? Bah, It doesn't care for language as much as you lowlifes do. The catch is that they do their battles blindfolded. Almost. There's this part of the house that they like very much for two reasons. One being, the blind turn allowed for their match to be the way it is- almost blinded. Yes, redundancy gets Its point across. No arguments there. And two being, it was near the main door, which means they could see Aiden's service car by the gate.

"You two are stupid, you know that? Dad can pretty much feel what you're doing. He doesn't have to see it." Isaac told his siblings more than once. "So, what? You're the one getting it." Jacob retaliated. That wasn't true, Isaac was the one getting scolded, not for the damage but for tolerating his brothers and actually encouraging them to "accidentally" burn curtains and break windows. Yes, accidents. They still haven't reached that point where they can restore things with erm, magic. Let It tell you that even if they used their hands, and put their time and sweat into it, nothing will get fixed. That's David and Jacob for you.

Think about the horrors of manually fixing everything especially to the lazy and bored kid who always just wants to lie around and sleep, or watch and do something exciting. Isaac doing the work, because the older ones always have an excuse or two: fixing dinner for David, and lacrosse for Jacob. Both or more excuses garnered a sentiment that Isaac gave no qualms about, "Exactly why I hate you."

Anyway, Aiden never seriously scolded Isaac, he knew how teenagers were teenagers, most especially, how his sons were his sons. He was glad they weren't as wild as he used to be. He was glad they haven't burned the whole house down. He has Isaac help him with the repairs and re-installments.

So, what happens is this, not in a particular order:
1. David takes his position and readies his stance.
2. Jacob takes his position and readies his stance.
3. They commence their casting.
4. They can't see what the other one was doing.
5. Hence, they think it's exciting.
6. Why? Doing battles face-to-face was boring, as bored as a bored Isaac can be.
7. Isaac's the referee.
8. Sometimes, Isaac's just the guinea pig of the new spell combos (he's conveniently durable and the only one who can withstand the fiasco his brothers can masterfully cast)
9. Isaac actually enjoys this. It was one less boring thing his brothers came up with. They do well entertaining him.
10. The spells are pretty much harmless, or so It's convinced.

But that's just in Its head. Jacob has to go home from school first. He participated in some sports event where he can win a jersey. Or something. David missed it. Isaac didn't care. The point is, Jacob brought home a jersey. In a floating/flying/streaming broom that farts sprinkles sparkles.

Would you look at that smile!



It starts to panic because it realizes that it's actually David. David! David finally something sports-related! Hooray for David!
So, where was It? David participated in some sports event (which thankfully wasn't lacrosse. It was futsal- almost there *pats David) and brought home the jersey prize. So on, and so forth.

Jacob's right here, being irritated. He's thinking about Aslin. Or is he?
You wanna plastic surgery so yer can fix that face of yers?
Too bad yer can't hear me, Jake-y.



But rest assured that today was one of those days. It was snowing outside and Aiden's warned them not to do it inside the house (for the nth time), but,"Heck. It's cold outside," Jacob shook his head as he walked back inside. The snow hasn't lit up for a few days now and that bothered Jacob. He's compromised when there's snow. He doesn't like the chill.

They did what they liked to do, without Isaac first.

David's favorite was the smoke shield. At least for a time, it warded off Jacob's aggressive spells, which were nonetheless premature and predictable.

And actually, this is a game of "Where's the cat?"



It found the cat! But what was the cat's name again? Cleave? Cleaver? Slain?

"That the best you can come up with?" Jacob trash-talked his brother.



"You don't even know what I'm doing."



"Hey, you ever wonder why nothing gets burned in this house?" He got off-topic rather quickly. "Why are you asking, shouldn't you be just happy that we don't have to call the fire station?" "It's one of those few moments that I'm actually thinking, and you're ruining it." "You always think and ask about something." "It's just weird, you know. I mean, sure this house is practically a house of magic, but I still don't see how. Dad doesn't have magic like we do. Mom's, you know. It goes against what we learned about magic being bound to the caster." "It doesn't make sense that the magic's alive when the caster's dead?"

"Yeah."

Ah, kids. But magic is alive.

But that wasn't David's concern; Jacob was over thinking again. David decided to call off the battle. "Get Isaac. He's probably bored." "We're not done yet." "You have your mind on other things. You can't win against me like that." "I'd like to at least try." "Alright, but call Isaac first." "Sigh, you always make me call him. Do you know how heavy that kid is?" On the contrary, Jacob adored Isaac. "Are you getting him?"
David was an alpha and he didn't have to be a wolf, or ridiculously popular, which he was. His alpha-ness shall be uncovered appropriately.
"Fine."

Jacob got to his feet, step-step, up the stairs to their room. Isaac felt it, of course. Jacob's footsteps were heavy and hesitant, although It doesn't know how hesitant footsteps sounded. Heavy, It knows: heavy footsteps have that annoying force and friction against the naked ground/ floor/ even the grass.

Creaky door. The house was old. It was how a real house felt like, David once uttered.

Isaac didn't even wait for Jacob to say something. "I'm sleeping." "Are you?" "Yep! Shoo." "Come on, Ike. It's not like you're actually doing anything." Jacob scratched his head. David burdened him with the chore of convincing Isaac off the couch. "Well," he shifted, "I am doing something. Can't you see I'm sleeping-" "Snarky potato. Get up. You don't really want David coming over to get your bottom off that couch, do you?" "Maybe I do. I'd certainly like to see him try," Isaac was quick to retract his challenge when he felt David's footsteps heading towards them. "Darn it. It's not fair that you always make a guinea pig out of me!" Isaac swerved off the couch, but he didn't show intention of getting off.

"Hey, we could be your guinea pigs, too. Except that-" "You're useless siblings. You depend on your magic hoo-hoo way too much. Thanks. I'm getting my butt off the couch, now go greet David and tell him I'm heading down." "Be quick to do it, since Dad hasn't come home from work yet." "Great. Make sure I don't get in trouble this time."

It thinks they're too friendly, no?

"So, we're really doing this?" Isaac was already getting bored. "Just wait, Ike. It hasn't even been one minute since you stood there." "What are you trying this time?" "Teleportation." "Again? Are you kidding me!" "No." The LLAMA, I trust. You two? No way!"
Isaac got ready to leave.
"Go!" David waved, Jacob did the same.
"Smoke and bubbles. Oh, Watcher-"



"Mission abort! Mission-" Jacob was cut off. Jacob was forgotten. Might as well continue the spell.
There was a zing. And a zang. Then a buzzing like some static.

Isaac was...
teleported to a few inches from where he last stood.
"Crood!" "Glad you're alive?" David smirked. "You snarling little-"

"Good evening, boys. Bullying Ike again?" "Come on, old man. You know he actually enjoys this." Jacob replied in defense. It was true, Isaac was entertained if not totally enjoying it. "Yo, Dad." Isaac gave his dad a fist bump. The two had the most treadmill hours together. "Hey, Dad." David got his hair messed with.



"Well, I'm glad you didn't destroy anything this time." "Yeah." The two perpetrators did their "I'm sorry, don't scold me" habits of scratching and shifting. "You two boys go do your thing. Your brother here needs to sharpen those nails and fangs." David and Jacob looked at each other, thinking, "Let's break something this time." "But if you break anything, you're paying for it. I'm taking it off your allowance." "Geeze, old man."

Er. So, yeah. Aiden went ahead and went into wolf form in rather green jerseys, it's so ridiculous. It doesn't even know how it happened. Everything just happened so fast...



The ellipsis helps. It wishes to say that Its smug, but you don't know how it looks like, or what it is. Or if It wears a face. *grimace
Wears.

Isaac did what he had to do.

Hrmm. Right, It remembered something very important:
It likes stroking Its imaginary beard.
Anyway, doesn't this room look ridiculously familiar?
Ridiculous is such a useful word!



Oh look! There's Isaac's (trophy) pingpong table. They both though it's the most appropriate place to...
"What are you waiting for, Isaac?"
"Oh, you know, Christmas."



Actually, he's just remembering what happened earlier.
Imagine, your father fainted.
Wet himself.
Because you're a wolf, when he's a wolf, too.
And then you just couldn't suppress the laughter.

This kid is evil.
Bored, but evil.
Period.



And fight! (It was a friendly fight. Training, something like that. Alright, Its narration is getting tacky)

Isaac got the upperhand.
At first. He's like, two bars behind Aiden, duh. Oops. It just can't keep secrets! Teehee.
"What are you doing! This isn't how a wolf should fight!" Aiden was more shocked than how a *cough typical masculine father reacts. Except that he has no other emotions. Just. Shock.



It figured that you already know romantic narration just doesn't work for It. It's too much work. Then a looming voice intrudes, "That's what you say now..." But that's just It, too.

Argh! So much randomness! And as if that's a cue for something, Aiden managed to randomly get Isaac's facepalm (face-palm? face palm?) off his face. Hehe. Face. It doesn't know if that even made sense just now.



Oh, but of course, teenagers are persistent.

And It was like, "Ugh, again! Really now?!"



"That's enough, kid. Playtime's over."



Kapow! Pow! Pow! (Echo. Echo. Koh. Koh.)



"I'm a good sport, Dad." Where did that come from? More importantly, why?
"I know."
"Just lose the beard next time, okay?"

The end. What poor storytelling. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Come on, now. Help It out here!

And they do.

They danced under the black light.



On the other hand, just look at those fat fat fat cheeks!



And that (or those), Its friends (It doesn't have friends now, does It?), is (definitely are) what happens at home.



Isaac's photo was supposed to be a supplement [insert here].
At the end of the day, Life should ask you, "Do you want to save changes?"

How the misc-tery continues:
I, Iridessa: 3rd [What happens at home]

Why not try a misc-stery?
Blood of the Mayfair: 32nd [Hail Rain and Sunshine]

or a Reincarnation Project:
Hawke Revival: 26th [Hale Bonding]

Offline Nutella

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Re: I, Iridessa: What happens at home
« Reply #10 on: October 20, 2015, 09:58:43 AM »
I'm moving this to the Stories Graveyard due to inactivity.  @cainspath - you can revive this story by contacting a moderator.

Original Storyboard:  Sims 3 Miscellaneous Stories

 

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