Thursday, July 3, 2014
Chapter 18: Clueless
What sucks more, Rohane wonders: getting up on a cold morning for school while big brother sleeps in as long as he wants, or the smell of the tropical fishtank psycho-dad decided belonged in their bedroom?
Is it a subtle hint to move out?
"Oh, hey!" Venessa Giordano seems excited to have caught up to Reggie. "So you really make toys for this place, huh? That's so cute. Toymaker. Like a little santa elf."
Reggie distracts himself picking some lint from his sleeve. "I sell things to this shop, yes."
"I was just here shopping for my little siblings. They love the barking dog things you make."
"My younger siblings liked those too. That's why I made them."
"I have always had a fondness for artsy people," Venessa gushes. Is bubbly the wrong way to go, she wonders? Does he not like bubbly? Does he even notice what she's done with her hair? Wait, does he even recognize her, since she's not such a dorky teenager anymore?
"I'd normally love to talk about my work - most people think it's kind of creepy and weird actually - but I'm about to be late for my father's gig," Reggie explains. "I've never been able to attend one before."
"Oh! Yeah... my aunt's pretty excited about the gig," Venessa says, her face falling a little. She's expected at work, soon, and while she had time to stop in and pick up her sister's birthday present and flirt with a guy, she doesn't have time to chase him to a band gig.
Cookie Damage once again fails to attract much of an audience.
"Well I think you guys are pretty good," Reggie says, as he crunches down on a magically summoned apple rather than buy some onion rings at the bar like a normal sim.
Rohane gets along best with his mother when they are just painting, instead of talking.
"The heck is that, Ray?"
"I don't know. What do you think it is?"
"I don't know," Gysael says, "but at least it's not the giant blood splotch Rohane is painting."
"It's a sunrise!" Rohane hisses, from across the room.
"You want to work at the science center?" Rohane scoffs. "Really?"
Ray nods. "I figured that would be the ironic thing to do. Plus they totally have real preserved bodies there, that were never turned into stardust by Grim. Cool huh?"
Ray shrugs. I accidentally locked in a science career as his lifetime wish, so now he's stuck with it. "Listen, honestly, your magic is just stuff science has yet to explain."
"Uh huh. Try writing a paper on it."
"Naw, I don't want to be fed to wereyetis by the secret police."
Rohane sighs. How is he related to these people?
There he is again... Venessa can't believe her luck.
Though it's odd, she thinks, to be dancing alone above the pizza parlor.
She slides up to him, wearing her foxiest smile. "May I have this dance?"
"Since you asked so nicely," he replies.
"Ugh, this skirt," she laments. "I'd have worn something else if I knew I'd be dancing!"
"You're doing fine," he says.
Once she finally gets him to stop dancing, Venessa stops her rampant flirting and gets right into what she's really interested in: Reggie's reclusive artist mom.
"I'd just love to meet her someday," Venessa says.
"You were at Gysael's birthday party," Reggie reminds her.
"Yeah, but your mother is crazy elusive, and it was crowded. I didn't get to speak with her."
"Are you an artist yourself?"
"I'm cleaning up backstage for the orchestra right now, a glorified janitor really..." Venessa is very low on the music career track, "but I have connections, you know, and I want to be an art critic someday. I think a story on Greta Goldbeard would help me out."
"I didn't realize art critic was a job one could have... and be paid for..."
"Of course it is! You silly! Someone has to look at all the art and tell everyone else what's good, so they don't have to waste their time wading through the bad stuff. Critics love your mother, or you guys would not have such a nice house." Oh shit, Venessa feels faint, I said that out loud. He's going to know I'm poor and worthless and jealous.
Or worse, he's going to spit up a stock line about how critics are worthless because everyone should, ideally, decide for themselves what's worth seeing or some nonsense utopian bullshit that only works for people who have time for that.
But Reggie says nothing at all.
He's cute, she thinks, in a blue sort of way.
"I'm starving," she says, breaking the silence. "Why don't you buy me a pizza?"
So, Reggie buys Venessa a pizza. She removes some clothing layers not just to look more attractive, but to deal with the heat this close to the ovens.
"This is awesome pizza!"
Reggie learns Venessa has the excitable trait.
Hey, look who it is outside. It's Petra! And Venessa's horrible cousin Maria!
At some point during pizza, Venessa convinces Reggie to take her to the Goldbeard house so she can chat with Greta. Greta loves her son enough to not run away screaming.
She lets him do most of the talking, though.
Scarlett is so excited Reggie brought a girl home, he starts performing a rad guitar solo.
"Your family is just so amazing and welcoming," Venessa cries, when the hour grows late and it seems past time to leave. "I wish I could just stay here all night. My own home is so dreadful! Everyone is always fighting!"
"You can stay the night if you want," Reggie says, uncertainly. "My parents probably will not mind."
"I'm sorry we don't have an extra bed," Reggie says, once everyone else has turned in for the night and Venessa is curled up on their couch. "Would you like me to bring you some blankets?"
"You can be my blanket," she purrs.
Etc.: I, um. I have no idea what an actual art critic does. Sorry.