6.12 Beds Are Burning

Well, here we are at last on July 12th! Happy Birthday Langurds and R.I.P. Sam’s sanity!

I can smell the light at the end of the tunnel (not a typo; caffeine does strange things to your senses) so I’m going to give it my all for these last 13.5 hours. Hopefully without having to cut things in half and without wasting the potential of these screenshots. You are all lovely and supportive and I’m sure it’s only me cracking the whip at this point, but there is no whip more terrifying than the one in my own hands. (Cripes, a few cups of coffee and I’ve turned into Omen?)

Things have been moving pretty fast. Our eldest heir candidate is a teen, our youngest a child, our heiress a middle-aged underachiever, and her ex-husband a corpse.

Only Rhapsody has yet to get a kick in the pants from Father Time. Of course she’s busking in the park when it hits.

Rhapsody: Thanks for coming to celebrate my birthday with me!

Corren: I didn’t. Where’d your guitar go?

Upon realizing she’s a 50-year-old ghost who hasn’t so much as touched a man, she flies into a bit of a panic.

Rhapsody: Hey Breandan, remember me? We heartfarted once in a pool.

I dunno, maybe this one is best left alone…

Rhapsody: Just one kiss, I promise! I won’t get all attached and stuff.

Rhapsody: *hangs up* I am going to marry Breandan. Thought you should know.

Does he know?

Apparently EVERYONE is going to know before Breandan does.

Rhapsody: Hey Siesta…

Rhapsody: Guess who’s getting married!

Siesta: Oh god who did you kidnap?!

Rhapsody: You’re so mean! If Calamity can find love then so can I!

Siesta: Jeez, I need start thinking before I speak.

It has quickly become obvious that our youngest is a textbook extrovert, and most everyone does their best to put up with her jabbering.

Siesta: Hey Kip, remember my birthday? Remember that?

Kip: Oh boy, do I ever! It was so noteworthy and special with the cake and the sparkles.

Siesta: Haha, yeah.

Siesta: Daddy died the day after that.

Human warmth is not her specialty, though.

What’s worse, she’s starting to ask questions about her heritage.

Siesta: Why don’t I have that blue squiggly stuff on me?

Kip: Oh, um, I’m sure you’ll get yours soon.

Mostly she just wanders around with a box on her head.

Siesta: Are you my daddy’s spirit?

Storm: No, I’ve fucking lived here longer than all of you. But come back with a carrot in that hand and I’ll be anything you want.

Somehow, it has this weird effect of making her look like she’s on a mission all the time.

Blubsy: Cacaw?

Kip: Don’t mind her, she’s doing a pilgrimage.

Blubsy: Cacaw!

Kip: No, she doesn’t need your help.

Well, she might need a wee bit of help. Poor kid is getting more confused with every new discovery.

Siesta: Who am I, Auntie Rhapsody?

Rhapsody: That one’s on your Mom, hon. My hands are full over here.

She’s putting a good dent in her bass skill—until Trance kicks everyone out so he has more space to shine.

Trance: Reach for your dreams, Trance.

Trance: That’s it, there they are.

Look, it’s all the ghostly Langurd ladies in one demonic triangle hallway!

Rhapsody: Who else is getting weird questions from Siesta?

Kip: Is anyone gonna tell her the truth?

Cal: Dibs not.

Kip: Seriously Mom?

It must be tough being the only living Langurd.

Siesta: If Kip and Trance can turn invisible, maybe I can do a backflip!

Siesta: I can’t do a backflip…

Siesta: Reach for your dreams, Siesta! *comes up empty-handed* Oh…

Can you tell I’ve been following her around for my own amusement?

Kip’s pretty fun to watch, but like any real hipster she’s starting to get on people’s nerves.

Kip: Tsssk Auntie, store-bought cake? You should know better.

Rhapsody: Hey, I wasn’t done with that!

Kip: You’re welcome. It’s full of GMO’s.

Rhapsody: Then GMO’s must be delicious!

Trance: Don’t worry, everyone, I’m about to make all your troubles disappear.

Rhapsody: Trance is my hero!

Kip: I won’t fully commit to attending, but I’m here in spirit. Haha, get it?

Trance: Think, Trance. What should you wish for?

Trance: Gosh, that’s right, you’re already perfect!

Trance: May as well get a bit more perfect while I’m at it.

Really though. Langurd jaw (I think), Cal’s lips, must be Quinn’s nose—and I can’t even tell whose eye shape that is?

Trance: It’s mine, you fool.

Technically not untrue. Oh, and he rolls Schmoozer.

Siesta: Daddy would be so proud…

Trance: Would be? I bet the old man woke up in his coffin when he heard how cool his son turned out.

Siesta: Really?

No, dammit. Don’t put more ideas in her head!

You can practically see them swirling in there as she putters about doing menial tasks.

Siesta: What if my father isn’t my real father?

*crickets chirping*

Siesta: Haha, nah, that’s way too far-fetched!

Funny how Quinn’s biological kids have only spared him a few moments of mourning.

Kip: Siesta is way sadder than us. Are we horrible children?

Trance: Someone really needs to set her straight.

Kip: Yeah…

Trance: Dibs not.

Kip: I hate you all!

Otherwise, Trance at least seems to live by the Barney Stinson philosophy: when I get sad, I stop being sad and…

Trance: Oh hey, who’s that cool guy in the mirror?

Trance: That’s right. It’s Trance.

…be a narcissistic nutcase instead.

Trance: It’s not narcissism when you really are that awesome.

Uh nope, it still is.

Trance: Come on, Trance. You tune out those toxic haters. Be the swan you were born to be!

We’ll leave him to his swanning, then…

And check in on— Jeepers, woman, did you dress yourself in the dark?!?

Rhapsody: No, you did.

Lol that’s right. She wanted a “Plan Outfit” as part of her midlife crisis, and doing it through the wardrobe meant I had to work with her in ghost form. I almost left her like this, but she’s so naturally pitiful, I just couldn’t.

This is obviously a 100% improvement.

Rhapsody: Oh shoot I’ve only called Breandan four times today!

Get a life.

Rhapsody: This is me trying!!

Somehow, it’s always Kip who finds herself alone with Siesta.

Siesta: So I went to the crypt and did some reading.

Kip: Oh, here we go again.

Siesta: Turns out we’re actually descended from a robot. Who knew, right?

Kip: Oh for crying— Siesta. We are not descended from Buzz. Great Auntie Sky never had kids.

Siesta: Well maybe he’s nacho ancestor but he sure is mine.

Kip: You have literally everything wrong about this.

So she’s forced to hide out in the fake kitchen instead. How is it she looks so at home and so out of place at the same time?

Kip: Aesthetics are a complex business.

And you’d be the expert, wouldn’t you?

Oh dear. Is someone dreading the workday?

Cal: Why do you ask?

Tensions at the station are rapidly reaching critical point.

Emily: We’re gonna go play crack-the-egg on the trampoline. You’re not invited.

Cal: That’s cool.

Ginger: Gee, I sure hope she doesn’t try to sit with us at lunch.

Deep breaths, my dear.

Cal: *murdering her fire extinguisher* Why do mean people have to exist in this world?

I know, they certainly put a wrench in things, don’t they?

Well fine then.

Only the end of the day brings a smile to her face.

Coworkers: *abrupt halt to whispered conversation*

Cal: Hey guys, I’m heading out. Feel free to keep talking about me.

No pretences here.

Sofia: I hear one of her relatives is being paid to start all these fires.

Emily: I’d believe that. I was married to her cousin once.

Sofia: I hear her husband was murdered in cold blood.

Ginger: I hear she peed her pants the other day! What a loser!

That night, Rhapsody gets her dream date with Breandan on the side of the road somewhere.

Breandan: You have collected these so I may distribute them at tourneys?

Rhapsody: No, they’re for you.

Breandan: For the fair maidens in the crowd.

Rhapsody: No, for you.

Rhapsody: I think I love you, Breandan.

Breandan: Ah, pray remove yourself from my being. This will not do.

Rhapsody: But Breandan…

Breandan: Foul-tongued sorceress, I am Sir Breandan to you!

Rhapsody: But I already ordered the wedding invitations!

To clarify, that wasn’t a rejected kiss.

He’s just REALLY uncomfortable with women making the first move.

Rhapsody: Oh dear, I’ve really bungled this one.

Deer: Don’t bring me into this!

Rhapsody: Will you at least love me, little trash panda?

Coon: Ghosts have cooties…

The ultimate insult.

Back home, Kip still has no respect for her brother’s beauty sleep.

Kip: Hey Trance, I can’t find the pathetic fallacy in paragraph one.

Trance: Try checking the mirror.

Kip: Love you too bro.

Siesta is much more considerate and takes her homework to the park across town.

Siesta: Gosh darn it, I wish someone would tell me my birth secret already!

Honey, that’s a story arc for next season.

What happened here?

Cal: I peed myself and lost all my friends.

True story—the rumour mill moves fast when everyone around you hates you.

Perhaps her coworkers aren’t to blame this time—I also find these two loitering suspiciously around the fire station. Is Breandan stringing along THREE ladies at once? More importantly, could this have something to do with the Quinnspiracy?

Samali: Asking questions is a dangerous game.

Genuinely scared now.

But easily distracted as ever.

Rhapsody: A free vacation? To a Mozart concert?? He came back from the dead???

Nice try, as if we’d fall for that one after last time!

What the ACTUAL FUCK, Sam.

TEWL’S MOTORCYCLE! Does anything good ever come of this opportunity??? 😦

Floating Niall: You have displeased the ancestors.

Humbly begging your forgiveness, O Great One! Anyway, I get the feeling I closed without saving because Cal and Rhapsody are back in the next screenshots. I guess losing the motorcycle was just too much.

Kip: Alright, the house is ours!

Trance: Look at that, Zenyatta’s got moves!

Rhapsody: Everybody push it now! One, two, three…

Trance: Ugh, it was too good to be true.

Kip: I’m just gonna turn this off now…

Despite running off to work out at every chance she gets (freakin’ athletic sims) Rhapsody finally maxes her second instrument. At least she’s got that going for her.

Rhapsody: Hey, wanna see something cool?

Sarah: Alright.

Rhapsody: Now you’re listening to an expert guitar player…

Rhapsody: …now you’re listening to a mediocre bassist!

Sarah: This is not what I paid for.

Calamity, darling, this is not what they mean when they tell you to “get inside the enemy’s head.”

Cal: Well, it was worth a try.

Hopefully being the big boss will finally get her the respect she deserves! (Spoiler: It won’t.)

Awkward ‘cause I totally missed this and continued to blunder along the old-fashioned way. To think she could have escaped the haters once and for all…

Cal: That’s okay, it’s not like they’re damaging my self-esteem or anything.

I really am sorry. But hey, cheer up!

We have our first real house fire!

And it’s a bigg’un!

Oh yeah, this is the shit I live for.

Cal: Really? ‘Cause I think this is how I die.

Yeaaahhh, so… It turns out Dragon Valley is about the worst place to be a firefighter on account of the 30 BAJILLION WINDOWS on every house. Cal subdues one side only for the other to start up again, and her floating from place to place is so inefficient it hurts. If only my tears of anguish could put out this fire, we’d be done in no time.

Then there are the fools who need to be told to evacuate.

Morrigan: I can’t get to my bedroom!

Lady, your bed is on fire. Sleep on the fucking grass.

And OH YEAH, did I mention this house belongs to the O’Reilly-O’Connells and their twisted love triangle square pentagon spider web?

(P.S. That baby in all their thought bubbles? I never did figure out where it was…)

And then—piece de resistance—there’s the fact that Breandan is here.

Breandan: Do you even know what you’re doing?

Cal: Blasting this in your face, if I can find the right setting.

It keeps Cal busy for a solid 24 hours and causes her to forfeit several pee breaks (and as many more friends).

Eventually, everything kinda fizzles out all at once. The damage is ~30 bajillion blackened window frames and a bunch of pee puddles.

But Cal can pat herself on the life jacket for handling the emergency putting a band-aid on a bullet wound.

Cal: Hey Miss, your home is saved!

Morrigan: Nice try, but you can’t stay for dinner.

Cal: I wasn’t expecting—

Morrigan: Gtfo, homewrecker.

Unsupervised, the kids are looking for prom dates in all the wrong places.

Kip: Cool ears.

Dusty: You too.

Kip: You know, my mom seems to think your family is involved in, like, actual warfare.

Dusty: Haha. Ha. What an absurd idea.

Aine: Use her to get to the half-breed.

Dusty: Mooooom, I just wanna be a normal kid!

Meanwhile, Trance has it way too easy.

Trance: Hey baby, I knew you’d come crawling back eventually.

I’ll admit it, I’m impressed.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

No time to talk—on to the next one!

Happy Simming!

-Sam