Farrah’s Island Adventures

I’m starting a new story – I think I’m at the end of expansions, which bork my games whenever they come out making stories and legacies nearly impossible without a great deal of jimmy-rigging which I suck at – but life has thrown me a curve ball.  I shall explain.  Island Paradise came out.  I was panting with excitement (or very nearly so) as I downloaded.  As I clicked Play, the unthinkable happened.  My computer died.  NOOOOOOO!!!!!

Procrastination has it’s good side, however, as my old computer was still sitting in my closet, having been spared from the recycle heap by virtue of my laziness, which I had not considered a virtuous trait until now.  There is nothing really wrong with this computer, other than the fact that it despises running Sims 3.  Apparently, ‘life sucks’ holds true for computers too.  The computer had a trick of its own, however, by lagging and stuttering like mad which only served to drive me slightly insane.  Score one, computer.  Remember that, as it won’t happen too often.  (Crosses fingers.) 

My concession to this sputtering laggard of a computer?  Reduction of graphics settings.  Sigh.   That isn’t the end of it.  Nooooo, I also have refrained from re-downloading store purchases, so only in-game items will be used, which I will strive to view as a challenge to my creativity.  So, if you can handle wanting to claw your eyes out, please continue reading.

Anyway…

Meet Farrah Hong.  Why Hong?  I don’t know.  That’s what came up when I rolled the little dice and I figured what the hell.  I’m thinking it’s a Pacific island chain and therefore Asian names would not be out of place, although I admit Japanese or Korean surnames would be more realistic.  But since it’s Sims and not real life, it’s whatever.

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Farrah comes from a fairly well-to-do family, which may very well be at the center of her troubles.  Money came easy, friends came easy, school came easy – challenges have been few and far between for Farrah.  Complacency didn’t sit well with her parents, however, who, having worked hard all their lives to attain some measure of financial comfort, felt their daughter would do well to capitalize on her relative ease of learning and ability and actually DO something.  Their adamant refusal to continue subsidizing her lifestyle after Farrah flunked out of college… twice… resulted in Farrah having to face a few harsh realities.  The first being, you don’t bite the hand that feeds you.  The second being, not being able to pay your rent means having to live wherever.  In Farrah’s case, this means her mother’s old houseboat. 

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The furniture was cobbled together and the wood was pitted and peeling in places, and Farrah felt a bit ill-used.  While she didn’t feel fortunate to be living in the old junker, the furniture and the hull were basically sound, at least she hadn’t seen any evidence of leaks, she wasn’t camping or relying on friends for a roof either.  She didn’t think she’d be inviting any of her old friends to this… this… she dreaded saying it… this houseboat.  She, Farrah Hong, was living in a houseboat.  She’d never thought of herself as shallow or vain, but it was a blow to her pride and she felt a surge of anger at her parents.  Couldn’t they have let her just come home?  No, they had to exile her to this… this… death trap. 

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The anger didn’t last long, though.  Farrah knew, although she would never admit it, that she had been slightly out of control.  Partying all night, missing classes and sleeping all day.  She’d tried to pay someone to take her finals and had been busted.  She had meant to do better, really she had, but keeping up with her sorority sisters had been her downfall.  She couldn’t really blame her father for being so angry – that had been expected.  Her father was full of bluster and she had known she’d be in for a very long-winded lecture.  But her mother’s anger and disappointment had hurt.  She had expected her, of all people, to understand.  But her mother hadn’t understood.  And here she was, in this squeaking barely-sea worthy, barnacle and splinter-encrusted thing.

Eating her breakfast, Farrah thought back to the conversation that had changed her life.

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“Mom!  I don’t understand.  You didn’t go to college and do all the things you’re trying to force ME to do.  Isn’t that just the tiniest bit hypocritical?”  Her mother had looked at her, saddened by the lack of maturity she was seeing.  “My dear,” her mother told her softly, “you forget – University wasn’t an option for me.  It’s only recently that a college education has been possible for any of us.  Do you really think I wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity if I could have?  I don’t understand you.  You don’t see the world as a place full of adventure and excitement – a place where amazing things can happen.  You see it as a place that owes you something just because you want it.  That’s our fault, I guess – we didn’t make you work for it.  We wanted you to not have to struggle and fight for every little thing, but maybe that’s something you need to do to become a mature adult.”  Becoming restless and unable to meet her daughter’s eyes, Farrah’s mother began circling the room, rushing her words.  “Your father has decided we will no longer pay for your apartment or your living expenses.  You’re cut off.”  Farrah had been shocked into silence.  Pressing her advantage, Farrah’s mother continued.  “From now on, you will have to make your own way.”  She was crying, yes, but she meant every word.  “Good luck, sweetheart.”  With that, Farrah’s mother had left the room, leaving Farrah stunned and struggling to figure out what she was going to. 

She had sold her jewelry and artwork, the high-end electronics and even some of the furniture to raise the money needed to fund a move from a high-rise apartment in Bridgeport to… anywhere.  She knew her parents had expected her to crawl back to Sunset Valley and struggle under their watchful eye, but Farrah had been so angry at what she perceived as her parents’ betrayal that she had refused to even consider returning to her hometown.  Besides, the gossip-mill in Sunset Valley was a powerful, never-ending machine.  Everyone knowing she was returning with her tail between her legs wasn’t something Farrah very much wanted to do.  And so she had moved to the Islands.  It was far away from family – a new beginning where no one knew her and wouldn’t think “oh there goes Farrah – can’t even get going to school right” whenever she passed them on the street. 

And no one would laugh at a girl who wanted to be a treasure hunter.  There were plenty of treasure hunters on Isla Paradiso – she was simply one among many.  Her spoon paused halfway to her mouth as she day-dreamed of being a heralded explorer – an adventurer extraordinaire.  Smiling at the picture of being bombarded by confetti at her very own Sim-tape parade for discovering a new species or island or SUNKEN TREASURE, she at her breakfast before tidying up the old rust bucket in preparation for a day in the water.

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Farrah had spent the last couple of months sitting in her little houseboat musing over her misfortune of having parents who just didn’t understand.  She may have continued her pity party forever if it hadn’t been for the Simmy Springer show she had watched, where parents unloaded their anger at their ungrateful children and had them sent to camps to learn the value of being independent.  Watching the episode had been an uncomfortable experience as she heard those kids saying what had just recently come out of her own mouth to her parents.  She cringed at how they sounded and recognized something in herself she wasn’t terribly proud of.  She hadn’t been upset enough to actually make a vow to change or anything – but it had been sufficient to motivate her to at least learn snorkling, and thereafter, scuba diving.  She had had to admit that being a treasure hunter actually called for some skills and set off to learn them.  Besides, the money she had gotten from the sale of her jewelry and other items was nearly gone and she had lost the desire to try to wheedle the money out of her mother.  She didn’t want to be one of those kids any longer.

As a beginner diver, Farrah was confined to the least dangerous dive areas around the Islands, but even these held some danger.

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It had taken her a while to adjust, but Farrah felt mostly comfortable swimming near the large sharks that called the warm waters home.  She had learned that unless a diver did something foolish, the huge fish usually let the divers be.  She still kept an eye them, though, never quite trusting the intelligence she seemed to read in their eyes.  If they were as intelligent as they seemed on occasion, Farrah didn’t think it was a sense of morals that kept the predators at bay.  She wasn’t sure what it was, and she didn’t really want to find out.  Whatever it was, she just hoped it held so long as she was in the water. 

The diving spots drew quite a few divers, the locals enjoying it just as much if not more than the tourists.  This spot wasn’t really known to the tourists, being off the main island and nowhere near a resort, so Farrah was fairly confident that her fellow divers wouldn’t inadvertently create a shark incident. 

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Although more divers usually meant more sharks.

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Most of the locals were well-versed in human-shark interactions and behaved when in the water.  Even so, there were a few reports of shark attacks every year, although Farrah noted they were rarely fatal, which she found very odd.  Granted, shark attacks occurred all over Simworld, and many times the human victim survived.  Just as often, however, they didn’t.  Farrah didn’t know why the predators didn’t seem to attack fatally near these islands, but she was pretty certain it wasn’t mermaids with shark-calling powers, as the locals insisted.  While she wasn’t above listening to a tall tale on a lazy afternoon at the local hang-out, had actually enjoyed hearing the legends and the songs, no sane adult believed in such stories and Farrah had begun to tire of their earnestness and attempts to get her to admit to the possibility of such beings.  She wasn’t a tourist, for pete’s sake, and she didn’t understand why the locals insisted on telling these stories as fact rather than legend.  She imagined they had taken bets on how gullible she was and were just waiting for her to be taken in by a particularly enticing story so they could all have a good laugh.  Farrah wasn’t swayed, however, and she continued to pay great respect to the sharks whenever she saw them, hoping that would be enough.

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She did find herself praying to the local divers’ god, Azul.  According to the pieces of legend Farrah had heard, Azul was supposed to take mermaid form to help out stranded divers or those that needed help.  Farrah didn’t believe in the diver’s mermaid god, but had no problem adopting the brief prayer that the locals insisted they chanted every morning after eating.  She thought it had more to do with keeping them at the table longer and out of the water, avoiding cramping as food was digested than it did with any actual god, but she found herself chanting it anyway, feeling at one with the locals who swore it was their daily ritual and insisted they wouldn’t even attempt diving without it having been said. 

Bowing her head slightly, she chanted the centuries old prayer.  It wasn’t in Simlish, and she had no idea what she was actually saying, but she had been assured it called on the Ocean Goddess, Azul – asking for her protection while swimming in her waters by the locals who had taught it to her.  She smiled a bit at the superstitious nature of it, but it couldn’t hurt, so she shrugged and said it anyway. 

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And then started her daily dive.  The Bistro had had a job posted to bring in some squid.  She hadn’t seen any squid on any of her dives, but she was anxious to try again.  Selling collectables was income, sure – but she needed more than just survival and completing the jobs the Bistro posted was something of a local competition as well as being a source of regular income.  Farrah wanted to prove to herself and her parents that this wasn’t yet another hairbrained Farrah scheme.  She knew she could make a career of this if she could just hold out until her first, real find.

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

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Farrah loved being underwater.  The bubble and hiss of the oxygen tanks soothed her and the necessary slowness of movement when a human ventured into this underwater world never ceased to capture her full attention.  It was a marvelous place, filled with life and a beautiful softness that blunted the endges of everything.  The plants swayed back and forth as they would if moved by wind, the utter silence eerie and complete.  Even the rusting anchor on the ocean floor had an alien beauty to it even though there was nothing alien about it.  But down here, surrounded by vegetation and coral and silence, it seemed otherwordly somehow; as though it hadn’t been created by Sims and deposited on the ocean floor through misfortune or chance.  As though it had always been there -as though it belonged exactly where it was.  Farrah smiled at her own silliness.  How could an anchor belong on the ocean floor?  Wasn’t that a sign something had gone horribly wrong?  She shook her head and continued her search for squid.  She was never going to earn any money if she became enchanted by her surroundings and spent her day thinking fanciful thoughts instead of finding squid!

Farrah examined every nook and cranny she could find, but no squid.  She found a couple shells the tourists would snap up, even a nautilus shell which would fetch a few more simoleons than normal.  but no squid.  Farrah saw a flash of red in the water and swam quickly to investigate.  She wasn’t entirely certain what color the local squids might be, but it was something she hadn’t seen before and so she eagerly attempted to follow it.  Please let it be squid, she thought.  She had been down a couple of hours and knew she didn’t have much more time in the water.  She stopped and looked around, searching for some idea of where the creature had gone. 

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She saw what she thought was a fin and a flash of something red near the rocks and she quickly moved toward it – or as quickly as a Sim could move underwater, which wasn’t terribly quickly at all – but when she arrived at the spot, she didn’t see any sign of whatever had caught her attention.  But she did see this.

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Farrah was stoked and all thoughts of squid flew out of her head.  That was a cave!!  There were plenty of stories of things that went wrong in caves, but Farrah reasoned, those usually involved dry caves suddenly filling with water.  Since this one was already full of water, she figured half the battle was already won.  She resolutely ignored the seaweed that looked like tentacles coming out of the entrance to the cave and swam through, hoping it wasn’t a very large cave.  If it was, she was going to have to get more supplies before attempting a thorough investigation.  Underwater lights and rope for a start.  But the cave was quite small, with an entrance on the side wall, which Farrah swam through, thinking her adventure had ended before anything adventurous had happened.  So much for thinking.

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Farrah didn’t know where she was, but it certainly wasn’t the area she had started in.  The floor was littered with the debris of ships, spread out all over the place.  It appeared to Farrah to be something of a ship graveyard and she wondered how and why all these wrecks had come to be here.  It must be a dangerous part of the ocean and a niggling doubt that she was in waters above her diving abilities was a caution to her excitement at where she had found herself.  Past the wreck-filled crevice she had found, the ocean floor was a seaweed jungle, becoming murky after only a few feet.  Farrah wasn’t certain she wanted to explore too far from the wrecks littering the ocean bottom.  She was equally uncertain she should stay in an area that had claimed so many ships.

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She also knew she had only found a couple shells today and that wasn’t going to pay her slip fee.  Watching that she stayed within the general area and didn’t go too far from the cave that had brought her here, Farrah thought a quick look around would be all right, and then she would head back through the cave, and home.  Her mind wandered, as she wondered how to mark the cave so she would be able to find it again.  She had dived in those waters before and never come across the cave so she wasn’t certain of her ability to find it again.  As she wondered how heavy a sunken anchor may or may not be, she spied something on the ocean bed.

Among the ruins of a large sunken ship, Farrah found a chest.  A treasure chest?  How could there be a treasure chest just sitting here out in the open like that?  Wouldn’t someone have found it before now?  Certain she was about to open an empty chest, Farrah swam toward the chest eyeing it for sabotage or a trap.  It would be just like the locals to set something up out here for the uninitiated to stumble upon, ensuring weeks of laughter at the gullibility of new divers.

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Farrah couldn’t believe her eyes.  If this was a set-up by the locals, it was a helluva job.  There were old coins and a few gems, as well as a few other things that disintegrated as Farrah put her hands in the chest to collect it all.  She was so excited.  Her first find!!  She looked around as she stuffed the treasure in her diving belt.  She wondered yet again how it was that this chest was just sitting out here in plain view; how had it escaped discovery? she wondered.  She didn’t stay to second-guess her good fortune – after all the coins and gems were quite obviously real and not a trap for the unwary set out by the locals for their own entertainment as she had originally suspected.  This was real treasure.  After scooping it all up, Farrah turned around and headed straight for the cave and home.

Later that evening, while at the Bistro enjoying a quiet cocktail, Farrah again wondered how it was she had discovered a “hidden” treasure that had been out in plain view on the ocean floor for any diver to find.  She wondered what the rippling fin and flashes of red had been that led to her discovery of the cave.  She thought about it all as she stared out at the waves.  She didn’t understand what happened today – she didn’t begin to understand it.  And she had an uneasy feeling as she made her plans to dive again tomorrow – this time to discover the mystery of the cave.

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Evans Family Update

Winter has come!  Is she still sleeping on the lawn???

Nichole has determined upon a legacy mate, but all may not be as it seems…  Will Nichole struggle through and remain with her selected mate, or shall she attempt a new love in Moonlight Falls?  Most of the men she has met are married and it wasn’t really a goal of hers to be a home wrecker… what shall she do?  Come find out!

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A New Start

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There’s a new legacy brewing at www.evansfamilylegacy.wordpress.com  Our erstwhile founder is having all kinds of fun in Moonlight Falls, looking for love (in ALL of the places – right, wrong and otherwise… but they’ve got some mugly Sims in Moonlight Falls, don’t they?  Should’ve done an Uglacy….)

 

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Chapter 1–The Yearning

My name is Amalie.  I live in Moonlight Falls with my mother and father.  I go to school every day, sometimes I forget to do my homework; other times I just don’t want to do it.  But even though I don’t like homework, my grades are good and I don’t detest school all the time.  Mostly, but not all.  I’m not much of a trouble maker and look forward to being able to help my mom out with the garden.  We have a maid so there isn’t much to do as far as chores (thank the gods – my schoolmates are full of stories of garbage and cleaning showers and all sorts of disgusting things their parents make them do).  I’d like to help out in the garden though.  See, my mom is… a little different.  Actually, we’re all a little different – that’s why we moved to Moonlight Falls.  At least here not every non-magical person you meet runs screaming for help.  Here our kind can co-exist.  At least, that’s the plan – and Mom and Dad’s main selling point on moving here.  But Mom… well, see, that’s the problem.

Here’s my mom and me when I was little:

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Isn’t she beautiful?  And her wings…  Yes, my mom is a fairy.  She has beautiful blue/green skin and iridescent wings and the prettiest smile.  She can make anything grow, and she has this cool little house that she can shrink down to fit.  I miss her when she goes in her house, but I guess that’s just something she needs to do sometimes.  Here she is in the garden – she grows all sorts of cool things – veggies for us and for some of the businesses in town that she sells to, and more mysterious plants whose name I know, but not what they are for.  Mom says when I get old enough to help out, she’ll start teaching me about them.  I know I’ll never be the gardener she is, being a fairy and all, but I really want to learn and I hate it that I can’t help yet.  My mom says I’m too young to handle some of the herbs and plants she grows.  I don’t see why and she won’t explain it.  “You’ll have to trust me, love” she always says.  I do trust her, but I still want to help and sometimes I think she’s being terribly unfair.  Other times I wonder if she just wants that time to herself – maybe she needs to commune with nature or something.  Commune is one of my spelling words this week.  An appropriate spelling word is always nice.  Anywayz, the picture:

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She spends a lot of time with her plants – it would be nice to be able to spend all that time with her instead of doing stupid homework and reading.

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This is my dad.  And I hate him.  Why did she have to pick a vampire?  Not that I really dislike vampires, because I don’t.  They’re cool people, a long as they aren’t too hungry.  Not so different than anyone else I guess.  It’s not that he’s a vampire that I hate.  It’s that his being a vampire made it so I’m a vampire too.  I don’t want to be a vampire and I certainly don’t want to be blue.  How did I become blue, anyway?  My mom is a beautiful almost turquoise color and my dad is a boring white color.  Why blue????  I hate it.  I hate that I’m a vampire and I hate him because it’s all his fault.  He’s always trying to talk to me, as though he had nothing to do with all this and I can’t stand to even be around him.  Because every time I look at him I’m reminded of what I am, and what I’m not and will never be, no matter how much I want it.  I hate him.

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The other day, my mom came up to talk to me.  I knew it had to be something important because as busy as Mom is, she rarely looks for me to just talk.  Turned out I was right…  She’s pregnant.  I’m going to have a baby brother or sister, she says.  She’s so happy, I can’t bring myself to say anything or act any way except happy.  But here, where no one can judge it, I can be what I am.  I’m mad!  Another baby?!  And I bet, no, I somehow know the new baby will be a fairy and have beautiful wings and be everything that I can never be.  It’s so UNFAIR!!!

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Last night, Mom came up to read me a story.  A story?  Really?  Like I’m a little kid.  She was just practicing – getting used to doing that again for the new addition.  That’s what I’m calling it – the new addition.  It will be new and better and exactly what my mom wants, and then what?  Then I’ll never see her and she’ll spend all her time with the craphead  little fairy.  She read me a story about the Queen of the Fae, but I couldn’t really tell you what happened in the story.  I kept looking at her wings and getting lost somewhere.

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I imagined myself as the Queen of the Fae – as the ruler of them all!  Wouldn’t that be just the best thing in the world?  I told Mom that, and she just laughed.  She said being a fairy wasn’t all fun and games, same as being anything else wasn’t.  I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, but that’s what she said.  Seems to me life would easier, not harder, if people were what they wanted to be.

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I must have fallen asleep in the middle of the story because I don’t remember the ending or that we even got that far.  It’s really stupid, I know, but I think I’ll ask Mom to finish the story tonight and I can dream about having wings too and ruling all the Fae.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Little did Amalie know, but her mother heard her daughter’s longing to be a fairy and the pain that desire was causing.  Aimee suspected it would cause long term problems for her little one if something wasn’t done.  But what to do?  A vampire is a vampire – there wasn’t any way to change that.  Was there?

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Aimee knew she needed to do something about Amalie’s dilemma.  She didn’t want her daughter to hate herself.  But more than that, if this new baby was a fairy, Aimee was pretty certain that would do nothing but cause problems and resentment between the children.  She wanted to do whatever she could for both of her children.  It didn’t matter to her whether her children were fairies or not, although somewhere deep inside, she had to admit to wanting a fairy child, a child to carry on her bloodline in the Fae world.  But that desire didn’t compare with the desire to see her daughter happy.  She’d think of something to help Amalie through this.  She didn’t know what… but there had to be something.  That resolved, she kissed her daughter goodnight.

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“Don’t worry, little one,” she whispered.  “Everything is going to be ok.  Standing up, she spoke to the as-yet unborn child.  “Everyone wants you and your life will be a joy, little one.  I’ll make sure of it.”

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~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

I didn’t want to get up the next morning.  More school.  More being around strangers who didn’t understand – who couldn’t understand.  Some of my classmates think it’s cool that I’m a vampire.  What a bunch of morons.  On my first day they wanted to know if I was going to suck their blood.  I thought I was going to scream.  Anyone could have told them that vampires don’t have the desire for blood until they’re grown up and even then, there were alternatives, so sucking blood didn’t even have to happen.  As if I want to do that.  Gross!  How can they possible think that would be cool?  Idiots.

I spent the day doing everything I was supposed to do.  Not because I wanted to do it, but because I didn’t want to be bothered.  I’ve noticed that if I get everything done and just keep my head down, the teachers leave me alone and focus on the kids that need help.  While they’re busy, I read ahead.  They probably think I enjoy this stuff.  I don’t care – so long as they don’t bother me.  I don’t think I can take it today.  The new addition will be here any day now, and life as I know it, sucky as it is, will end.  Mom says I’m smart and that I learn really, really fast.  She says it’s part of being a vampire.  As if learning things fast matters.  I could be a fairy with wings and learn slower and it wouldn’t bother me a bit.  I could be beautiful and dumb and it would be ok.  As long as I was really, really beautiful, that is.  And if I had wings, I would be.

I stopped at the library and the park on my way home.  Mom wasn’t really paying attention when I called.  I could hear outside sounds so I figured she was in the garden.  As usual.  She gave me an offhand “be careful, love” before she hung up.  I wanted to be angry, but I know how Mom is when she’s gardening, so even though I wanted to be mad, I really wasn’t.  When I got home, Mom was just finishing up, and she actually had time to talk.   It was so good to see her – to be the only thing she was thinking about.  It was really nice.  Until she said she thought she’d be going into labor soon and that I’d have a new brother or sister.  That just ruined everything.

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She could tell that upset me, because she started telling me how great it was going to be, and how I was her first born and would always have a special place in her heart, blah blah blah.  Yeah, I’m her first born – her first born vampire child.  Great.

Mom went inside and I went up to the porch to sit and just look at her garden.  One of these days she was going to let me help and then she’ll want to be around me and need me for something.  Then everything will be ok.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Life, however, had other plans.  While Amalie was busy plotting how to monopolize her mother’s time, her mother was busy with other things.

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Aimee didn’t like human hospitals, and opted to have her children at home.  Why she thought the bathroom was the appropriate place for that I’m sure I don’t know.  But after a while, she had a new life to announce to the world.

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“I not only did it alone, but I have here the next Queen of the Fae!”  She grinned at how she sounded, but didn’t really care.  The baby was a fairy and something inside her that had been knotted tight without her even knowing it was there, let loose and settled into place.  “Finally.  Someone to teach the family secrets to.  Someone to keep the Phelan name alive in the Fairy world.  I name you Antigone Phelan, rightful heir to the Phelan Fairy holdings.  Long may you live.”  Had she known her window was open and that she could be overheard, she may have waited to rejoice in the Fairy birth.  Unfortunately, however…

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O.o

Tune in next time to see where our story takes us.  Does Amalie come to terms with the situation or does she try to kill the infant in it’s crib?  Will Aimee be able to maintain peace or is all-out war on the horizon?  And where the hell is Dad, anyway???  If you don’t come back, you’ll never know.

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Welcome to Endlessims!!

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