7.7 Blocked by Parental Controls

Oh, how I’ve fallen in the world. There was a time when I wrote these posts from an actual desk, a queen-sized bed, or occasionally even a hammock. I’m typing this one from a floor mattress, sprawled on my stomach in that awkward position that strains your shoulders and kinks your neck no matter how you rearrange yourself. There’s laundry drying just above my butt, approximately three inches of Korean dust on my laptop screen, and bread pizza with hot dogs in the toaster oven I scored for free with my phone contract.

Huh, it doesn’t sound so bad when I phrase it that way. I actually love my Seoul apartment, and I do have a real-ish bed balanced on two mold-combative plastic pallets. I just wasn’t feeling the inspiration over there.

Also, compared to the Langurds’ house it’s a downright port-a-potty so I think I have full license to complain.

Seriously. Just look at that golden glow on the wallpaper. Look at it and weep.

Delilah: Welcome to your new room, Duke! And good news, as the oldest you get it aaaalll to yourse— wait, who is that?

Riza: Just the disappointing child of a doomed relationship. Don’t mind me.

And about to vacate the tantrum tank, thank goodness.

Riza: Where’s your hair, Momma?

Rhapsody: Dunno, but I’m hoping if I keep my eyes closed this horrible nightmare will go away.

Riza: Please open them before plunging my face toward the flames.

Kip: Can’t believe Trance beat me to procreating. We should get on that soon.

Jada: Are you trying to seduce me as you shovel cornflakes down your dress?

Kip: Is it working?

Jada: …kind of.

Remember last chapter when I dropped the LeffJeff divorce bomb? Here’s another one: Jeff now lives with EchoWeaver’s stylin’ simself and her daughter by Riley Cromos. Jeff and Echo promptly married, their change of surname serving as my first hint that everything was wrong in paradise.

Have fun with your new family, Jeff.

Ah, an exact parallel to the situation I just described.

Cal: Relax, I’m a ghost.

CALAMITY LANGURD. FOR THE LAST TIME, YOU ARE NOT INVINCIBLE.

Cal: Wanna bet?

NO.

Well, I may be a little in denial about my heiress nearing the end of her life bar. Good news is, I’m off to a nice start not getting attached to my new one.

Siesta: What is an heiress. What is life.

Sorry, Siesta.

Trance: Wife, you have given me a son. For this I shall reward you.

Delilah: Uh no, let’s be clear here. I gave you your powers and you’re just doing what you were SUPPOSED to do at the wedding.

Trance: Don’t worry, it’s worth the pain.

Delilah: How would you know? All I did was throw a bottle at your feet.

Trance: Yes and my poor toes are still bruised.

Delilah: Please shut up.

Hmm, what reason could I possibly have had for taking this picture?

Riza: Maybe because I had a birth—

ARE THOSE UNICORN BEAMS? Storm, I think there’s a unicorn behind the house!

Storm: Father?!

Storm: FATHER!

Soldier Horse: You are my son, and the one true king.

Storm: I’m your daughter!

Soldier Horse: Shoot, took a gamble on that one.

Young Storm has had a rough go of it since Gumby sold her father. I say “young” because the stupid filly keeps eating life fruits, and I have no idea where she’s finding them or how to undo the damage. Odds are good that the social worker comes before the reaper at this rate.

Now that the important events have been covered… Psst, Siesta!

Siesta: Leave me alone, I’m sleeping.

‘Til when?

Siesta: Forever.

Come on, I’ll give you espresso and a puppy.

Siesta: Really?

No.

Siesta: Forget it, I’m done with being heiress. I thought this story was about me now but it’s all Kip this and Trance that. This whole heiress thing is a joke.

Okay, but are you sure you wanna quit on your birthday?

Siesta: Wait… my birthday?!?

Siesta: LOOK OUT LEGACY, IT’S GONNA BE A SIESTA FIESTA UP IN HERE.

Perfect time for Riza to reveal her child trait, because why would I write that down.

Riza: HAHA, Siesta Fiesta? What even is that, a nap party??

Siesta: Shut up dweeb, you haven’t even gotten a makeover yet.

Riza: *runs off crying*

I do eventually get around to her makeover, but I have no idea where this shot falls chronologically and clearly didn’t care enough to capture her face soooo.

Riza: A tortured artist’s life it is.

Meet YA Siesta! I have to note that the dice did a pretty good job of styling her, colour-wise at least.

Siesta: AWW MAN, does that mean I’m not getting a makeover either?

Oh no girl. I spent real life dolla bills on this getup.

Siesta: What, like that’s supposed to impress me?

Oh snap, somebody’s done with your shit and ready to get down to business.

Siesta: Your shit. I’m done with your shit.

Okay fine, so I fuelled you to become the jaded, no-nonsense heiress you are today. You’re welcome.

First order of said business—

Siesta: Yo Dusty. I dunno if it’s this obnoxious writer or the terrible drumming getting to me, but I’m running out of patience dude. We need to talk in person.

He declines all her invites for literally no reason, so we take it upon ourselves to track him down. Turns out, well, his hiding game is feeble af.

Siesta: That son of a bitch.

Siesta: Hello, Dusty.

Dusty: …Well I feel like a real scum now.

Siesta: You’ve literally lived across the street from me this whole time.

Dusty: Are you mad?

Siesta: Mmmmnope of course not.

Dusty: Not even a little?

Siesta: Totes good.

Dusty: Come on, be honest.

Siesta: Everything is a-okay!

Dusty: You want to kill me, don’t you?

Siesta: Kinda a lot.

Dusty: I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you about any of this, it would’ve put you in danger too.

Siesta: Look, can you please just trust me? I have a plan. I think you should come live with me.

Dusty: Why?

Siesta: Kip and Trance are going to France—hey, that rhymed! But seriously, we should go with them and let this whole blood feud thing blow over.

Dusty: I don’t think you understand blood feuds, but I’m tempted.

Siesta: So you’ll come?

Dusty: Fine.

Dusty: But only if we can go to one of your aunt’s concerts. I heard she’s big over there.

Siesta: Whatever, dude.

Siesta: Vive la France!

And so we embark on our third voyage of Generation 7. You know, just so I can really say I’ve got my money’s worth out of WA six times over.

Kip: Why’d we bring Aunt Rhapsody and not Delilah?

Ah, about that. Turns out airport security can detect when you’re halfway to becoming a vampire and might endanger other passengers with your newborn bloodlust.

Rhapsody: Is this… do I feel… hair on my head??

Yes, France has gifted you your luscious locks. Now stop being baffled and hold the damn handlebars.

Rhapsody: Never! I am invincible here!

Trance: Invincible? Psssh. Try again, mortal.

It’s an idiot epidemic.

Of course, Trance uses this trip as an opportunity to sample some foreign… cuisine.

Trance: Oh my, what a tasty-looking baguette.

Margot: What drugs are you foreigners doing these days?

And Rhapsody uses it to boost her creative confidence.

Rhapsody: Finally, back where I’m appreciated!

Unsure if I should point out the people literally running for cover at the sight of her…

Runaways Siesta and Dusty find their own cover in the form of a secluded campsite.

Siesta: Dude, we’re in another country. Is hiding in the bushes really necessary?

Dusty: You clearly don’t know my family. If they want to find me, they will find me.

Siesta: So? Maybe you should stand up to them once and for all.

Dusty: Yeeeeaaaah no I don’t want to do that.

Siesta: Jeez, I think I get why my mom calls you Dusty the Damsel.

Dusty: She calls me that? Aww man…

Dusty: I hope she hasn’t tarnished your opinion of me, Siesta.

Siesta: Is that a sunbrella?

Dusty: *promptly puts it away*

Siesta: Maybe I don’t understand all this stuff, but you say your family has been trying to kill me since I was born. And look at me—I’m still alive.

Dusty: Because I am a spineless coward.

Siesta: Whatever. I’m gonna build an army of robots so they can never hurt us again. Also, I’m pretty sure your parents are gonna die soon.

Dusty: That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.

I think we can guess who’s gonna wear the pants in this relationship.

Siesta: Oooh, I’m wearing pants.

Dusty: These are actually jeggings. Real denim irritates my skin.

Case closed.

Siesta: Whaddya say Dusty, you ready to be a Langurd?

Dusty: I’m still technically married in Dragon Valley so this will be void in three days, but hey, why not!

However, she IS still the boxhead we know and love, and we can’t expect her to keep it together ALL the time.

Dusty: Siesta, you have to wear the ring.

Siesta: Yes.

Dusty: On your hand.

Siesta: Yes.

Dusty: Earth to Siesta?

Siesta: Huh-what?

Phew, seven chapters later, the promised couple is locked down. They’ll have to repeat the whole thing of course, but married in France is better than nothing.

Wtf Kip, haven’t we learned not to leave Jada alone in a foreign country?

Jada: Oh look, I have no option but to… play for the Dark Side.

Dude: Be my guest.

Jada: I’m nobody’s guest, fool. Good day to you.

Apparently she traumatizes the locals without even trying.

Jada: Yes hi, I’d like one—

Cashier: SACREBLEU, YOU ARE TOO BEAUTIFUL!

Jada: I just want a bagel, ma’am.

Cashier: BUT I AM NOT WORTHY.

Jada: Kindly pull yourself together.

Cashier: I WILL TRY. FORGIVE ME.

Siesta and Dusty may be married, but they’re like a couple of five-year-olds with crushes on each other.

Dusty: *giggle* You’re a girl. We can’t sleep in the same tent.

Siesta: I won’t tell if you won’t.

Their children will be more mature than them starting from birth.

Speaking of children—who invited Riza? *scrolls back to the arrival pic* *realizes I probably just cut her out of the frame* *is not surprised*

Riza: So many family members and no one to read me a bedtime story…

Kimberly: Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just your second cousin once removed or something.

How she ropes Jada into the task, I could not tell you.

Jada: Oh, does Auntie Jada have the perfect storybook for you.

(Ignore Skydancer stumbling drunkenly into the corner.)

Jada: *ahem* Advanced Winemaking by Sherry Cork.

Riza: Haha, you’re funny.

Sky: Where the heck am I?

Jada: Now don’t ever ask me to do such a dumb thing again.

Poor Jada. Her selfless act gives the other tourists the chance to snatch up every last bed.

Jada: That little snot WILL pay for this.

And maybe Dusty should be worried about his family finding him here—considering Jada’s brother Jess walks through the door at exactly that moment.

Jess: How’s life treating you, sis?

Jada: Not now, Jess.

Jess: That bad?

Aaaand Kip, whom we’ve not seen since we got here because her job is boring, saves the day with Sultan’s Tabernacle.

But not without Jada’s brother trying to snipe it from us.

Jess: Hey, I thought we were having a proper catch-up!

Jada: It’s 4am. No.

Jess: Well. Some kind of sister you are.

Kip: Go home, Jess. Even I know not to bother her in the dark hour.

With all the beds taken, the rest of the family has no choice but to yell at each other all night.

Rhapsody: The leader of my fanclub just resigned because apparently you BIT her?!

Trance: Well yeah, duh.

Trance: Vampires are people too, Aunt Rhapsody! No…… Aunt CRAPSODY!

Rhapsody: Why I never!

I’m beginning to realize Divas are a little too slap-happy for my liking. And I obviously don’t mean that in a giggly baby sorta way.

Trance: You’d better watch your back. Wouldn’t want to find these pearly whites stuck in it.

Rhapsody: Why would you bite someone in the back? That’s so illogical.

Trance: WAIT AND SEE.

In the end, satisfyingly, it appears it’s Trance who should watch his back.

Kip: Double Whopper in three, two, one…

Trance: Whaaa! It’s like two layers of heart attack!

Rhapsody: Hence the name.

Trance: Taken down by a move named after a burger…

Kip: Who’s a big scary vampire now?

By morning, a stone cold silence has befallen them.

Dusty: Okay, there’s something seriously wrong with the atmosphere in this room.

Kimberly: Yeah, why does being in here give me a sense of impending doom?

Maybe because there’s a whole nine Langurds in it?

Kimberly: Oh god, that’s totally it. Guys, one of us is gonna have to get out.

Jada: How about you, smellypants?

Real nice burn there.

Jada: Gee I’m sorry, maybe it’s the 20 minutes of sleep talking.

Of course, these non-Langurd Dragon Valley tourists can be problematic for Dusty.

Dusty: Don’t worry, the Gallghers have been politically neutral since the Year 800.

Cara: Pardon my manners, I’m Cara Gallgher-Mithrilen. I’m married to your brother.

Dusty: Well fuck me.

Siesta isn’t there to protect him. Today she’s on Riza duty… or perhaps I should say, Riza is on Siesta duty.

Tour Guide: And these are the stone dragons we recovered from Emperor Daizong’s bathing chambers…

Riza: Auntie what are you doing? This is a museum!

Siesta: That’s cousin to you, actually.

Siesta: Besides, the name “Siesta” gives me certain privileges.

Riza: It really doesn’t.

Tour Guide: Please leave.

Meanwhile, no one cares if Jada kicks the shit out of this ancient relic.

Jada: She asked me to leave. I asked if I should kick the shit out of her instead.

I think I love you.

It’s ironic that these travels are all for Kip, but I document her adventures the least. Mostly I send her to perch on the highest, narrowest cliffs in order to fit the largest number of things in her camera lens.

Kip: It’s a fine cliff.

Verily.

Kip: Wow, this statue is beautiful. I will now take a picture of it.

Okay I give up, Photography is an impossible skill to document.

With Riordan’s wife and child in the house, a locked bathroom is the only place for the newlyweds to honeymoon.

Siesta: All for us? So luxury. Much space. Wow.

Dusty: You’ve just concussed me.

Siesta: Oops.

Dusty: Worth it.

Unfortunately, “locked” doesn’t have the same meaning to everyone.

Kip: Whatcha doin’ lovebirds?

Siesta: It’s fine, Kip won’t tell.

Kip: My father was a town crier. Don’t be so sure.

Dusty: Aww jeez.

Kip: Just kidding. Have fun.

Kip takes off but leaves an important question in her wake.

Siesta: Haha, so weird that she said “my father” when she totally meant “our father.”

Dusty: Wait…….. you know you’re half O’Connell, right?

Siesta: Half O’What Now?

Dusty: Oh god… maybe you should sit down.

Instead of staying for THAT conversation, let’s watch the collapse of Rhapsody’s last shred of credibility.

Rhapsody: My fans will come back to me! Just you wait!

Sky: Face it, it’s over. Even the French are sick of you now.

On which note we return to Dragon Valley and its knotted up wad of political drama.

Trance: I have a son!

Nameless Citizen: That’s wonderful!

Trance: Yes. I will drink your blood now.

Lev: A son, eh? That is useful intel indeed.

More useful than the blood drinking? Wow Lev, what kind of mayor are you?

Lev: At least I don’t call my people “Nameless Citizen.”

Omen: Hello lads. Are you here for the show?

This chance meeting may look like a drug deal, but is actually something bigger. From right to left, for dramatic effect: Jada’s brother Jess Kelly-Dolan; our very own Omen (sadly relegated into the Spouseless Void of Showtime Hobos); Dusty; and none other than Dusty’s husband, Derek Mithrilen-Hooley.

I say that like it’s a coincidence but it’s actually why we’re here.

Omen: Not for the show?

No Omen, not for the show.

Jess: I’m here for the show!

Omen: Alright then, prepare to be fascinated!

Jess: Actually, I work for public health. I’m here on a report of unsanitary avian species.

Dusty: I don’t think I can do this. Can we just go back to France?

No, Dusty! Siesta is counting on you!

Dusty: Okay. Here goes nothing.

Dusty: I want a divorce, Derek! I don’t care what my parents say! I refuse to be sold like a common slave! You aren’t the boss of me! My whole life I’ve been living under your foot and it’s time for me to break free! We’re soaring, flying! There’s not a star in heaven that we can’t reach! BOOM!

Jess: I have no words.

Derek: This seems like a conversation you should be having with your parents.

Dusty: I will never do that!

Omen: You know what, I think I know just what you two need.

Omen: Behold—the white doves of peace!

Jess: Aaaaand there they are. You’re under arrest.

Dusty: But hey, if the parentals ask questions, maybe you can tell them I drowned in the Seine.

Derek: Dusty, you are a grown man.

Dusty: PLEASE THOUGH.

And this is how we leave things. Three happy couples, two complete galleries, and one very (illegally) full household, as you may have noticed.

Next time: Mayor Lev is not the saint everyone thinks she is? Hold onto your hats, this generation is about to get even plottier.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Welp. I ended up powering through 80% of this post at school on a day of cancelled classes. The fact that I’m insanely productive here was a very dangerous thing to learn.

I have a busy few months coming up, but the more I write the more I WANT to write, so I’m gonna do my darnedest to get a bunch of chapters out before August. I’m taking a short trip back to Canada to see my little brother get married, and while I’m not going to make gaming a priority, I’m sure there will be some jet-lag-ridden nights when simming is the only logical option. Keeping my goals vague here because we all know how I work.

Big thanks to those of you still reading!

‘Til next time, Happy Simming!

-Sam