Gen 8 Ch 16: Questing

Sometimes Icarus worried about his younger cousin Idris, who had always been quiet and withdrawn, but even more so after his sister's most recent prank.

So when an outbreak of simfluenza at school incapacitated most members of Icarus' Burrows&Beasts group and their weekly game session was about to be cancelled, Icarus invited Idris to join him and Ralph at the comic book store above the arcade.

Ralph, the ever prepared game master, had an easy campaign and a few basic characters ready for situations just like this one.

What they hadn't expected, however, was that cheerleading practice was also cancelled that day due to that very same outbreak of simfluenza, and so Ivy had tagged along too.

Idris had taken on the form of Gruuk, an orc bard, well versed both in the art of combat and conversation.

After Gruuk had delivered the final blow in their last encounter and Ralph's kind encouragement, Idris was really growing into his role and listened raptly as Ralph delivered some more exposition.

"As you walk up to the wizened old man you just saved from the wolves, he spreads his arms in greeting and smiles at you." At this point, Ralph broke into a deep theatrical voice as he took on the persona of the old man. "'Brave adventurers, I owe you my life, which is a debt I can never hope to repay. Let me, however, attempt to aid your journey by sharing with you secret knowledge I have guarded for many decades. I am weary of my task of guarding this secret and shall pass it on to you... All I ask is that you take an oath to keep it to yourselves, as this knowledge is not only secret, but dangerous!'" Ralph cleared his throat and continued with his normal speaking voice again, "So, what do you do?"

Icarus stayed true to the character of his elf paladin, keeping his face solemn as he raised a hand to his heart and bowed his head. "I swear, wise one."

Next up was Idris' turn. "I swear," he squeaked, barely able to contain his excitement.

And then Ivy, the rogue.

“Okay, I stab the guy in the face,” she said.

“You what?!” Icarus was outraged. “Why would you do that?”

Ivy shrugged. "What? I thought you could do whatever you wanted in this game.”

Icarus turned to Ralph. "Well, aren't you going to make her roll for it?"

Ralph, obviously dumbfounded, mumbled, "No point. She's got 20 dexterity."

"And the enchanted daggers of Insta-Killening," Ivy reminded them.

"I should have never allowed that." Ralph sighed, rifled through his notes and finally dug his fingers into his mop of hair, defeated. "The old man was a key part of the quest... I can rewrite things, but it'll take a while."

Icarus groaned. "Great job, Ivy."

“Whatever. This game is lame anyway and it stinks like nerd sweat in here. I know a more exciting place we could go.” Ivy gazed conspiratorially at each boy in turn. “Unless you guys are scared.”

 Ralph glanced at his watch. "I've got to get going. Might as well get a head start on my homework."

After Ralph's hasty retreat, Icarus frowned at Ivy. "Do you know how much time Ralph spends coming up with these campaigns for us?"

Ivy scoffed. "Maybe now he'll think of something less lame to spend his time on. So? Do you want to see the place?”

Playing Burrows&Beasts had been the entirety of Icarus' afternoon plans. He threw up his hands in defeat. "My schedule's wide open."

“Great!” Ivy looked excited. “Let’s go!”

 

While they made their way across town, Ivy surprised both boys by apologizing to Idris for the alien story she’d told them the other day. She also claimed she’d found a way to make up for the mean prank. “I know how curious you are about your dad, especially since mom is so tight-lipped about it. She wont even tell me anything! But the other day I overheard her and my dad talk and, well...here we are!”

They’d arrived at a plain looking building, distinguishable as a bar only by the weathered sign hung on the second floor of the ramshackle structure. Devil’s Crossroads Saloon, it read. All in all, not the most inviting of places.

But before Icarus could protest, Ivy had strutted up to the rickety building and through the saloon doors, Idris on her heels.

If such a thing was even possible, the place looked even worse inside than it did from the outside. The creaky floor was strewn with sawdust, presumably to soak up spilled drinks, and—judging by the smell—vomit.

The patrons seemed just as rough as the bar itself. A burly man in a leather jacket was hurling darts at a dartboard with so much force that the wooden planks of the wall rattled with each impact. Another man, wearing a similar jacket, was perched on a bar stool and turned to scowl at the newcomers.

Ivy seemed unperturbed by all of this as she strutted up to the bartender and chirped, “Grandma Sherry, long time no see!”

Icarus gaped. He’d heard his aunt mention Ivy’s paternal grandmother on a few occasions—mainly to say that she wasn’t invited to family gatherings—but he’d never actually seen her. At first glance the grumpy woman behind the bar looked much too young to be anyone’s grandmother, but upon closer inspection, her deeply lined face and gray roots betrayed the image her heavy makeup and revealing attire were supposed to portray.

“What the hell are ya doing here, girl? This ain’t no place for kids,” Sherry Gibson chided. And then, in a quieter hiss, she added, “An’ I told ya not to call me that.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow and smirked. “My bad, Sherry,” she intoned, making the absence of the word grandma ring loud and clear. ”We were just looking for someone who apparently hangs out here, so I thought you might be able to help…”

“I ain’t helpin ya with nuthin’, kid. Does yer dad even know where—“

But before Sherry could finish her question, Ivy had spotted something and sped off, closely followed by Idris. Icarus lurched after them, intending to get them to leave as quickly as possible, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw who Ivy was headed for.

The man was tall and bore a lazy stubble on his angular face, but the similarity was unmistakable. Evidently Idris saw it too, because he was gawking at the man like he’d seen a ghost.

The stranger with the familiar face raised both his hands when Ivy approached him. “Hey, you’re cute and all, but I don’t go for jailbait, darlin’.”

“What? Ew!” Ivy wrinkled her nose. “No, listen, I need to ask you something. Does the name Huxley Mason ring a bell? Because…”

Engrossed in her one-sided conversation, Ivy did not see her grandmother behind her, talking on the phone with obvious agitation.

Icarus did notice, however, and he had a pretty good idea who she was calling. His mind was racing frantically, trying to work out what to do. Ivy wasn’t likely to listen to a polite request to leave, but Icarus could just grab her arm and drag her outside… though if Icarus was perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to. Ivy's frame was deceptively lean, but her rigorous exercise routine meant she was all muscle. Another option was to just take Idris and leave, but Icarus was loathe to leave Ivy alone with all these strange men.

Icarus had just made up his mind to try and reason with Ivy, when the doors behind them swung open so violently that they hit the walls with a loud thud.

Theo and Huxley had to have been in the area, because they appeared mere minutes after Sherry’s phone call.

“Ivy!” Huxley was furious. She leapt between her daughter and the man in the leather jacket like a tigress protecting her cub. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

“I was just—“

“Out! Now!” Huxley watched Ivy scamper off, then turned her fury on the man. “And you! Stay the hell away form my children!”

At this, realization finally dawned on the man’s face. “Wait, these brats are yours? So that’s what the girl was talking about… shit, I should've known, that girl's sass is just like you. You’re saying they’re all mine?”

“What, are you stupid? Of course not,” Huxley fumed. Then she paused and chewed on her lip before quietly adding, “Only the youngest.”

The man gave Idris one glance, scoffed and turned back to Huxley. “You can say what you want, sweet cheeks, but if you’re here to squeeze me for child support, get in line. I got nothing to do with you or your brood and if you’re hurting for cash, it’s your fault you decided to keep the brat.”

That was the last Icarus and Idris heard of that conversation, because at this point, Theo dragged them outside where they joined a defiant looking Ivy.

After a very unpleasant drive home and a scolding like neither of the two teens had ever experienced before, Huxley sent Ivy and Icarus to bed.

Then she made her way upstairs to talk to Idris, who had quietly retreated to his sleeping nook.

Huxley sat on the bed beside him. “Hey buddy, are you alright?”

Idris shrugged and kept his gaze on his feet. “So that man... was my daddy?”

Huxley let out a long exhale. “Yes. I’m sorry, sweetie. I know I shouldn’t have kept it from you, but…” She sighed again. “I really didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Do I have to go spend afternoons with him now like Ivy does with Theo?”

“No, of course not, sweetie. You never have to see him again, promise.”

“Because he doesn’t want to be my daddy, right?”

Huxley bit her lip, but she had kept the truth from Idris for far too long already. She wasn’t about to start lying to him now. “Right.”

Idris was silent for a moment, cradling his feet in his hands as he rocked back and forth slowly. Then, in a whisper, he asked, “Do you still want to be my mommy?”

Huxley gasped and almost choked on her next words. “More than anything in the world, sweetie!”

Finally, Idris made eye contact. “Then everything is alright,” he smiled.

***

Huxley decided not to tell her mother the full story of what had happened, because she knew it would only worry her. Grace was still wrestling with the loss of her husband and had all but abandoned her usually busy social life to immerse herself in quiet hobbies like painting.

"It's funny," Grace told Huxley, with an expression that said it was anything but, "Adam always joked about my paintings...he was kind about it, but I know he thought they were terrible. And now that I'm actually good at it, I keep wanting to call Adam to show him... but he's not here."

Huxley gave a sad smile, remembering Grace's early attempts at painting and Adam's good-natured jokes about them. Grace's paintings had certainly come a long way from the days of gems such as Our Home On Fire and The One-Eyed Bunny.

"It's tough, losing your loved ones," Grace continued, "especially the one you swore to spend your life with." She paused to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. "Please look after your little sister, alright? She's in so much pain."

Adam may not have been around to admire Grace's new paintings, but his former presence was felt all around the house.

 His carefully cultivated veggie garden was still growing strong.

With Grace getting on in years and physically unable to tend to a garden this large, she was incredibly grateful that Huxley had taken it upon herself to keep her stepfather's memory alive.

It had taken a long time, but Grace and Huxley's once frayed relationship had finally smoothed out.

*

 Unlike Ivy, who had been grounded “indefinitely” by Huxley, Icarus had gotten off with just a few additional household chores, which he accepted without complaint. The added chores still left him enough time to spend afternoons with friends, or, increasingly, on dates with Annie.

Icarus had never even dreamed of bringing a date to the arcade, but Annie loved it just as much as he did.

She beat Icarus at just about every game they played, which was perhaps partially due to the fact that Icarus couldn't take his eyes off her.

He couldn't help himself! She was just too cute when she really got into a game.

"I thought you were a gamer," she teased playfully after beating him at yet another round of Spacebloopers.

"I guess I was distracted," he admitted with a grin that left no doubt as to what he was referring to. Annie's cheeks flushed prettily.

*

While some chose to spend the sunny afternoon indoors, Huxley, Grace and Idris made use of the good weather by playing a few rounds of sim gnubb in the back yard.

Huxley kept a close eye on her son after the incident at the biker bar, looking out for any signs of trauma from his recent misadventure. As it turned out, however, the one she should have been worrying about was her elderly mother.

Grace had just been preparing a throw when her arm suddenly went slack and the baton tumbled to the ground.

“Mom? What’s—“ Huxley’s question was cut off by a gasp when Grace’s knees gave out and she followed the baton to the ground.

There was nothing that could be done. Old age had claimed Grace, and she welcomed the reaper with open arms.

“Take me to him,” she said.

Gen 8 Ch 15: Catch A Magic Fish, Cook A Magic Meal

"You're applying for college?!"

Hazel's fervent response made Icarus recoil, but he steadied himself quickly. Even now, being in the basement lab still gave him the creeps, but the sooner he got this over with, the quicker he'd be able to leave again.

"Well, the guidance counselor at school is making us do it," he explained, "It's just so we know where our strengths lie and what our options are, or whatever he said. It's no big deal. I just need you to sign this real quick."

Hazel signed the papers he handed her, all while a mix of emotions swirled inside of her. Even after Iarus had left, she still struggled to wrap her head around what had just happened.

"Our little baby," she whispered to Aidan's urn on the shelf, "Is almost a man."

Icarus wasn't the only young sim in the household to grow up quickly.

Idris' first week of elementary school was almost over and while he liked it well enough, he hadn't made any friends yet due to his shy nature. At home he followed Ivy and Icarus around like a lost puppy, but Ivy usually wasn't inclined to spend time with her baby brother. With their large age difference, even Icarus had to admit it was difficult to find activities they could enjoy together.

So Icarus was surprised, if a little apprehensive, when Ivy came up with the idea of telling each other ghost stories one evening.

She switched off the lights in the kitchen and grabbed a flashlight from a drawer. "Come, gather around," she intoned theatrically, "and I shall tell you a story of mystery and horror, and a long-kept family secret."

"What I'm about to tell you may sound strange," Ivy continued as her audience of two settled on the floor around her, "But it's all true.”

“Really?” Idris was already enthralled.

Ivy smiled and lowered her voice to almost a whisper, “Yeah, though I’m not even supposed to know this… so you have to promise not to tell anyone I told you this, especially Mom!”

Having sworn both boys to secrecy, Ivy finally began her tale.

"Alright, so... One dark and stormy night, Mom was on her way home when she saw strange lights blinking just above the side of the road. She stopped to investigate... and then she froze! She couldn't move a single muscle while the lights danced around her, getting closer and closer until... ZAP!" She paused to grin at Idris' gasp. "She was caught in a beam of light that pulled her up off the ground... and into a flying saucer!"

At this point Icarus rolled his eyes, but Idris was still captivated and stared at Ivy with his mouth agape.

"The aliens performed all sorts of unspeakable experiments on her," Ivy went on, "And eventually, Mom passed out from all the pain. She woke up the next day in her bed, as if nothing had happened. But she knew it couldn't have been a dream, because of one horrible little detail..."

"What was it?" Idris' voice teetered somewhere between excitement for the story and fear for his mother's safety. "Was Mom okay?"

Ivy shook her head. "Far from it. You see... she knew the aliens couldn't have been a dream, because all of a sudden, her belly had gotten huge! She could feel it inside... something bulging and writhing, wanting to get out. And then it burst out of her--a terrible, slimy monster! And when she raised her eyes to behold it, it looked like... THIS!" Ivy shone her flashlight at Idris' face, who flinched. Ivy guffawed.

She was still laughing when Idris scrambled up off the floor and hurried upstairs.

Icarus tried to admonish his cousin, but Ivy shrugged it off. "Oh come on," she scoffed, "it was just a bit of fun. He'll get over it. Besides, he needs to learn how to take a joke or he'll never make any friends."

Incidents like that made Icarus appreciate how lucky he was to have a friend like Ralph.

After school Icarus often headed over to Ralph's house to play games, do homework and--a more recent development--talk about girls.

Ralph and Lena had been going steady ever since homecoming, but the pangs of jealousy Icarus had once felt seeing them together had faded. In fact, now Icarus was grateful to have someone so well versed in relationships to ask for advice.

Icarus had told Ralph everything that had transpired at the homecoming ball (leaving out the part about the jealousy, of course) and while Ralph commiserated with Icarus over Annie's failed scheme, he also agreed that it couldn't hurt to give her another chance.

So of course, when Icarus agonized over where to take Annie on their first official date, he turned to Ralph for help.

"Well, what does she like to do?" Ralph asked, not lifting his eyes off his homework. "Does she like chemistry? Because in that case, she can take care of this assignment for me."

"That's exactly the problem." Icarus chewed on the back of his pencil. "I don't know what she likes, besides watching old sitcoms on Simflix!"

"Not much of a first date," Ralph agreed, "unless you want to Simflix and chill."

"I don't think we're there yet..." Icarus gave a short laugh, then stopped and stared at Ralph. "Wait, are you and Lena--"

"What? No!" Ralph's cheeks flushed crimson and he bent over his homework, busying himself with erasing a wrong answer.

Sharing his friend's embarrassment, Icarus quickly moved the conversation along. "So what do you and Lena do when you're together?"

"We mainly hang out here," Ralph shrugged, "Do our homework and stuff."

"So, like... what we're doing right now?"

"Pretty much."

Icarus chewed on his pencil again and mumbled, "Hm, doesn't sound like much of a date for Annie either..."

Both boys went back to chipping away at their homework in silence for a while. Suddenly, Ralph's head shot up, startling Icarus.

"I know," Ralph exclaimed, bearing a wide grin, "A picnic! Lena is always nagging me to go on one. To be honest, I don't see the appeal, but girls love that stuff, don't they?"

A picnic sounded like the perfect idea to Icarus--even if it was the only one they could come up with--and so he finally set a time and place to meet with Annie.

It was a pleasantly warm day in early autumn. Icarus could not have asked for better weather and he was altogether pleased with himself when they laid out their blanket on a soft spot of grass and sat down.

As they ate the burgers he had packed, their conversation flowed just as naturally as it had at the homecoming ball. Better even! They talked and laughed and learned that they had so much more in common than just a love for watching TV shows.

"It's so weird," Annie said, tilting her head and gazing at Icarus, "This is going to sound corny, but I feel like I can really be myself around you. I mean, it's not that I'm someone different at school, but it's like I'm just this version of myself. This perfect version of me that I know everyone will like."

"You are very popular at school."

"But that's just it! The version of me they know is just a part of me. But with you... I feel like I can be all of me, warts and all."

Icarus quirked an eyebrow. "You have warts?"

She giggled and slapped his arm playfully. "You know what I mean! It's like... I don't have to worry about what I should and shouldn't say with you. That something I say might make you think I'm not cool. It's a relief."

"Sure, be yourself," Icarus agreed, "Who cares what other people think? You're funny, you're totally into video games and you binge-watched an entire season of Married...with Sims in a single day. That makes you pretty cool in my book."

"See?" Annie flashed one of her perfect smiles. "Those are exactly the kinds of things I could never tell the cheer squad! Imagine what Ivy would say!"

"I learned a long time ago not to worry about what Ivy might say. She finds something mean to say about everything--besides, if I worried about what other people might think, I'd never enjoy myself!"

"That's what's so refreshing about you. It must be liberating."

"It is," he grinned. "You should give it a try!"

"Alright, I'll be completely honest with you then," Annie said, setting down her plate. Icarus did the same.

Her earnest expression gave him pause. Was it something serious? Icarus stared as Annie bit her lip before she spoke.

"I know this is supposed to be romantic and all," she began, looking extremely uncomfortable, "and it’s sweet that you did it… but to be honest, I can't stand picnics.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I hate the outdoors even more than algebra!”

Icarus laughed, partly out of surprise, partly out of relief. “You 'hate' the outdoors?”

Annie joined in his laughter. “See? That’s why I don’t tell anyone! People think it’s so weird, but really, I think they’re weird! I mean, what’s so great about being outside, huh? Sunburn, icky bugs… and there’s just nothing to do! I don’t know what people find so fascinating about sitting around, staring at trees." She gestured around them and gave a big shrug. "Like, I don’t get it. Wouldn’t it be much more fun to watch a movie or even read a book?”

“Aw man, and I thought I'd picked the perfect date." Icarus laughed again. "Sorry about that, we can go do something else.”

At this, Annie's face lit up. “Oh, can we? I mean, I appreciate you did this and all, but there are ANTS all over the blanket and it’s really gross!”

They arrived at the cinema just in time to catch a screening of Facekicker 4: In Your Face. Icarus couldn't believe he hadn't thought of going to see a movie earlier--it was something he preferred to do anyway.

“Better?” he asked her.

In response, Annie took both his hands in hers and pulled him close. “Much.”

***

Later that evening, Icarus was sprawled out on his bed with a book. He always read until he fell asleep, though tonight his thoughts kept meandering away from the words on the pages. Annie was the one thing on his mind.

A knock on the door tore him from his reverie.

Coming across his mother anywhere but in her lab was so rare that Icarus had to do an almost cartoonish double take. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her in his room, or upstairs in the main house for that matter.

At Icarus' apprehensive invitation, Hazel entered the room with matching awkwardness. She gazed around the room, reminding Icarus more than ever of a nocturnal animal out of its natural habitat.

"This used to be my room as a child, did you know?" she said with a small smile. Running her hand over the wallpaper she added, "It's... changed."

When Icarus, unsure of what to say, remained silent, Hazel slowly made her way to the other side of the room and sat on the bean bag by the bookshelf. There, she craned her neck to examine Icarus' ever growing collection of books.

"Planet Beeboz," she laughed, "I used to love that book when I was little."

"I've grown out of most of these," Icarus shrugged, "but I used to read them so much as a kid, I'm too attached to get rid of them now. My favorite used to be Catch A Magic Fish, Cook A Magic Meal."

Hazel's eyes searched the shelf, and quickly found what they were looking for. She reached for the book and pulled it onto her lap, smiling. “I’ve never even read you a bedtime story, have I?”

Icarus frowned. “I never minded reading by myself.” For a brief moment, he considered being a bratty teen and telling his mother to get out of his room, then decided against it. “But no, you never read me a bedtime story.”

Icarus leaned back against his pillow and watched his mother flip open the book. She began to read out loud. 

Catch A Magic Fish, Cook A Magic Meal was a story written for young children, but as she read on, Hazel kept coming across surprising details. The fish in question, called the Deathfish in the book, was a creature that had died a long time ago, yet was still somehow mysteriously alive.

Hazel remembered her days back in college, when she was particularly fascinated with ichthyology. She recalled reading scientific papers on a very rare species of fish that had been documented to exist in certain waters. They were nocturnal, only coming to the surface to feed during night hours, and only appearing in waters where the conditions were just right. But the most fascinating thing about this fish, according to that scientific paper, was that it showed no measurable signs of life. Its skeletal form was held together by sinewy flesh and skin, and it moved and ate and grew, yet functionally, its organs gave no signs of life. Even more surprisingly, the fish could be left on land for hours or even days, but then start moving again when placed back into the water.

Its scientific name was carpio mortemus, but the unsuspecting fishersim, who had been the first to reel in this monstrosity, had dubbed it the Deathfish.

So the author of this children’s book had done their research, Hazel thought appreciatively. But there was more. The book claimed that, if cooked together with a special fruit, the Deathfish would produce a meal so divine that it could even bring the dead back to life: Ambrosia.

Hazel’s fingers clenched around the well-worn pages of the book. Could it be?

Life fruit was a well known, if not widely spread, plant that exhibited considerable anti-oxidizing properties. Its molecular structure was so close that of stem cells that the mere consumption of the fruit had been proven to stimulate cell regeneration in sims. There were several documented cases proving that eating life fruit could actually make a sim younger, but the plant was so difficult to come by and cultivate that it wasn't commonly used.

This rare fruit, combined with the even rarer fish... could this be the answer Hazel had been looking for all this time?

She read on, her mind racing and her eyes growing unfocused, but finally, she heard a soft snore. Icarus had fallen asleep.

Hazel's gaze softened as she regarded him. Her baby. She got up, moved silently towards his bed, pulled the covers over him and kissed his forehead.

The book was clasped firmly in her hands when Hazel left the room.