Gen 8 Ch 18: Aidan

The last thing Aidan remembered was a bright flash of light.

Now Hazel stared at him with wide eyes, not pausing to take a breath as words poured out of her mouth.

“The answer was there all along—in a children’s book, can you believe it? All this equipment and all I had to do was cook for a ghost. And after I’d tried everything, EVERTHING—oh Aidan! Finally I’ve got you back!”

Aidan didn’t resist when Hazel pulled him into a kiss, but he was terribly confused. What had happened? Hazel gave him no chance to formulate any questions.

“You have to meet our baby boy,” she said and herded him upstairs and towards the house.

“Hazel—“ Aidan tried again, but Hazel threw open the front door of the house and pushed Aidan in.

“Happy birthday!”, Hazel called and all the people in the room turned to stare at them.

Their faces were largely unfamiliar to Aidan, except for one. A man, not much younger than Aidan himself, stared at him with Hazel’s eyes, set in Aidan’s face.

“How long I’ve waited for this moment. Aidan, love, meet our son!” Hazel sniffled and wiped a tear from her eye. “Happy birthday, Icarus!”

Both men continued to regard each other in confused silence.

“What the hell have you done this time,” Huxley hissed at Hazel. “And on his birthday no less. You’ve really gone off the deep end.”

Before Hazel could protest, Huxley grabbed Aidan by the arm and dragged him outside.

“So, what are you?” Huxley squinted at Aidan and poked him in the shoulder. “That does feel like flesh, at least. So you’re not a simbot this time.”

“A simbot?” There was so much Aidan didn’t understand. “Hazel and I were trying to use the portal to send me back in time. Did it not work? Did I go forward instead?”

“No.” Huxley shook her head slowly. “There was an explosion. You were dead. For a long time. We buried you.”

Aidan blinked. An explosion? Could it have been that bright flash of light? His memories after that were vague: a strange sensation of floating… and then the most wonderful food he’d ever tasted. And suddenly everything was different. Hazel looked so much older, as did everyone else. Hazel had been pregnant when Aidan stepped into the portal, now all of a sudden their child was an adult. It was easy to imagine Aidan had simply traveled through time, but if what Huxley said was true… he had been dead. Dead long enough to miss his son’s entire childhood. Oh, and what about Aidan’s own parents, were they…?

Huxley cut through his silence. “What did Hazel do to you?”

“I… I can’t really say. From what little I know, my best hypothesis is that she found a way to recreate my body from my…” Aidan cleared his throat. “…remains. I don’t know how. How did my mind stay intact? I think Hazel said something about ghosts? Metaphysics has never been my field of study.”

“Alright, yeah, that nerdy shit does sound like the Aidan I know.” Huxley sighed. “Well, whatever Hazel did, she did ruin poor Icarus’ birthday party.”

 

  *

Aidan did not follow Huxley back into the house—his appearance had made the party awkward enough already. Instead, he headed back down to the lab, where he found Hazel sobbing.

After many long talks, Aidan finally felt like he knew the whole story. Hazel had not only reached the pinnacle of the field of simbotics, but had also made groundbreaking discoveries in both botany and ichthyology. She‘d spent more than half a lifetime studying, researching ceaselessly, experimenting and perfecting her skills—and all to bring Aidan back after his tragic accident. She had grown older, and a little strange, but he loved her as much as he ever had.

„You‘ve worked so hard,“ He told her when she was done with her meandering tale. “I‘m sorry you had to do this all by yourself.“

Diplomacy had always been Aidan‘s strong suit. Without saying it, he had made Hazel realize her mistake.

Aidan was Hazel‘s silent rock during her tearful apology to Icarus the next day.

„I‘m sorry I wasn‘t there for you. All I ever wanted was for you to know your father—but in the process I forgot to be your mother.“ Then deviating from her carefully prepared speech, she wailed, „I can‘t believe I let my baby boy grow up all alone!“

„It’s fine.“ Icarus rubbed his neck, obviously uncomfortable. „I wasn‘t alone, I had aunt Hux and grandma.“

Hazel leaned in for a hug and Icarus patted her back awkwardly while she sobbed. Words and apologies were never going to build a bond that should have grown with time. Still, he couldn‘t help but feel encouraged by how much Aidan‘s presence seemed to have improved Hazel‘s mental state.

***

Hazel sighed. All her life she had tried so hard to save the world, or, lacking that, at least make things a little better. How had she made such a mess of things?

But whenever she looked at Aidan, Hazel couldn‘t help but smile. The world was a better place for having this man around, she was sure of that. She may have made a mistakes—and lots of them—but this was something Hazel could never regret.

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And this concludes generation 8! After a short break of only… 4 years?! Well, I‘m back again and with the best intentions of finishing this legacy challenge up for good!

Gen 8 Ch 17: Birthday

Keeping the veggie garden alive was a struggle that Huxley eventually lost. While her parents had left them more than enough money, the household chores kept piling up without Grace around. Things could have been manageable had Hazel stepped in, but Huxley knew better than to hope.

 If anything, Hazel had become even more useless since their mother's passing. A new frenzy had caught her and she spent her days holed up in the lab, refusing to open the doors for anyone, as to not disrupt some "regulated climatic conditions".

From what Huxley gathered from her muffled voice through closed doors, Hazel was cultivating plants in there. Why Hazel couldn't express her newfound interest in gardening by tending to the dying veggie patch was a mystery to Hux, but she had no chance to ask.

Hazel only left the lab at night, and then for hours at a time.

No one knew what she was up to.

Soon though, Huxley and the children got used to their new routine without Grace.

After what felt like an eternity, Ivy was finally released from being grounded, allowing her the freedom to pursue her varied interests once again.

Interests such as Wesley Chandra.

Ivy had taken over the master bedroom, and while her mother hadn’t trusted her to make any major changes to the furniture, she reveled in finally having a space all to herself.

It was particularly fortunate that she was by herself when an embarrassing sound toned loud and clear as she sat down in one of the leather chairs.

Ivy briefly cursed her mother for not letting her switch out the squeaky old chairs for something better, but then she spotted something that gave her pause. A whoopie cushion? Why would her grandparents keep something like that in their bedroom?

The mystery remained unsolved and Idris, the face of innocence, slept soundly that night.

*

Icarus had hoped to spend his afternoon reading comics with Ralph, but with graduation day looming close, his best friend had other things on his mind.

Ralph sat upright, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on his knees. "So, did you make up your mind about what you're going to do after graduation?"

"Not really." A few weeks ago there had been a career fair at school, but nothing had caught Icarus’ attention. Music? Had never really been his thing. Sports? No thanks. Science? Definitely not. "The fair was no help at all. Nothing looked fun. What I like to do is reading and playing games... and I don't think they have jobs like that."

"It’s not supposed to be fun, dude. That's why it's called work.” Ralph frowned. “At least that’s what my dad always says. You just have to suck it up and make the best of it.”

”So you're going for that journalism thing?”

"It's the most reasonable choice. I have a foot on the door because of that internship I did. Going anywhere else would be dumb."

"But see, at least you found something you like to do!” Icarus put his comic aside and sat up. ”You get to write for a living, isn't that what you wanted?"

Ralph shrugged. "It's not the kind of writing I do for fun, but it is writing."

Icarus had none of Ralph’s pragmatism. He had no special skills, particularly not anything that could be useful in a career. So he shoved the uncomfortable thoughts aside and continued reading.

*

Idris had only recently aged up to teen, but unlike his older cousin, he knew exactly where he was headed in life. His countless drawings and art supplies littered the floor and spilled out all throughout the already crammed attic room.

Huxley couldn't do much about the lack of space in the sleeping arrangements, but she could give her son somewhere to pursue his passion.

Unlike Grace, who had loved to paint in the living room where she could chat with anyone who walked by, Idris valued alone time and Huxley knew that.

There weren’t any spare rooms in the house, but the barn hadn’t held any animals for ages and with a little effort, Huxley managed to turn the hayloft into a cozy little studio.

It wasn’t much, but Idris was overjoyed.

***

With Icarus' birthday just a day away, preparations were in full swing. The transition into the young adult stage was a great milestone in any sim's life, marking not only the end of their childhood, but celebrating the beginning of their adult life.

And this birthday, Hazel vowed, would be the most special birthday her son had ever had.

The sleepless nights and frantic days in the lab blurred together in her sleep-deprived mind, but everything needed to be perfect.

Finally their lives were going to return to the way they should have always been.

Finally they would be a family.

*

Icarus‘ birthday party was in full swing, with all his friends and family in attendance - well, all but one. Of course his mother had forgotten, but Icarus hadn't expected anything different.

He had always loved birthdays. Eating cake and being the center of attention was great, but the most exciting part was blowing out the candles to make a wish. Ever since he was little, Icarus had always marveled at how it had to be done silently, without telling anyone, or it wouldn’t come true. It was almost like a real-life magic spell.

Icarus watched the candles flicker on the cake. Even now that he was becoming an adult, the wonderment remained. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and let the magic take its course.

At that moment the door flew open and Hazel burst in, accompanied by a someone with a strangely familiar face.

Icarus certainly hadn’t wished for this.



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Perfect quality deathfish + perfect quality life fruit = perfect birthday party?
Something doesn't add up.