::1.2:: Eternal Blue

Sunflower’s first paycheck from the science center goes toward a sorely-needed washer and discount clothesline, which are squeezed (squoze? squeezened?) onto the second floor balcony.  At first, Sunflower is afraid the semi-functional block of metal will fall straight through the moldy floorboards, but after a week of having a near-panic attack every time something creaks, she begins to think that perhaps the house is sturdier than it appears.

Also, determined to add a splash of color to the overwhelmingly drab place, she paints it.  She’s still trying to figure out her own personality post-amnesia, but she doubts she is an artistic sim;  still, the simple flower pattern turns out better than she was expecting, and something about the way she’s able to paint it without much thought gives her the sense that she was… taught this, before.  By someone important enough to leave a strong impression, so that some part of her still remembers the design.

It’s a depressing line of thought, so she tries not to think about it.

But color!  She likes livening up the place with color, when she can afford it.  The kitchen countertops are the next thing to get a pastel upgrade, theoretically to match the fridge.  Everything about the house freaks Sunflower out, but fresh spring colors give the vibe that things are sanitary, and that’s enough to ease her anxieties.  Kind of.

She also asks, as a favor from a coworker, to run a DNA test on Roe.  Sunflower already knows he’s hers, somewhere deep in her gut, but it’s nice to have proof.

“He comes up in our database as Roe San Toleil,” her boss, Gretel Sekemoto, had informed her.  “So do you, actually.  Sunflower San Toleil.”

“Database?” Sunflower had echoed worriedly.

“The town has a database with every resident’s info,” Gretel had explained.  “We allow immigration and emigration—which is more than can be said about some places—but it’s very strict.  It’s just a precaution,” she added, when Sunflower had begun to chew her thumb.  “Don’t bite your nails in the lab, it’s gross.”

Sunflower Moon.  The voice echoes in her head.  “That’s not my name,” she’d said firmly.  “I’m a Moon.”

Her boss had shrugged.  “Go to City Hall and have your documents updated, then.  I don’t think anyone will care.”

San Toleil.

She mulls over Gretel’s words later that evening, on her way to City Hall, with Lunar Lake’s second moon, the Eternal Blue (as her coworkers call it) watching from the horizon.

San Toleil.  It doesn’t sound familiar, but then again, neither does Sunflower Moon.  But it’s the voice from her first memory that calls out to her—and whether it’s right or wrong, whether it was even real or not, it had told her who she was.

She leaves Roe’s name alone, though—San Toleil must have some relevance, and she doesn’t want it forgotten.

Unfortunately, a name change does not stop the bills from coming.

Sunflower needs a promotion at work.  There’s only so much experimentation a sim’s body can take, and she’s getting desperate.  Besides, what the actual scientists are doing looks infinitely more interesting.

While the fancy lab machines are what really fascinate her, most of Sunflower’s coworkers seem to be studying things biology-related (if the experiments they perform on her are anything to go by).  If she can prove she knows what’s going on, maybe they’ll let her in on some of the work.

 She isn’t sure why, out of all the biodomes, she chooses to visit “Memories of Sunset Valley” to find what she’s looking for.

All she knows is that when she steps foot inside, it feels like time stands still.

She feels... something.  Nostalgia, for a place she’s never been.

 It’s beautiful at sunset.

She finds what she came for. 

She’ll grow some plants, study them up close, take notes that mimic the style of her colleagues.  Plants are biology, right?  They’ll have to give her a better job if she can grow a tomato, right?

 Plus, she can’t exactly afford food right now, so… this will have to do.

 This place is somehow MORE shabby since the last time I was here, Richard Phillips thinks, regarding the weed-riddled plants struggling to survive Sunflower’s crusty yard.  After thorough convincing that Sunflower and her son are not, in fact, ghosts, the teen was reinstated as Roe’s babysitter.

Even the mailwoman has something to say.

“Pay your bills, dammit!” she shouts at the house, throwing down the papers as aggressively as papers can be thrown.  “And clean out your mailbox!”

But Sunflower is diligent—and, by some miracle, the poor things survive.

“Tomatoes?” a coworker had exclaimed when she presented her notes the following Monday.  “Oh honey, you’re gonna need, like, at least a lime tree.”

Fine, then.  To the next biodome!

 It's the midst of the summer festival, but Sunflower is here to work, not play--and bell peppers are serious business.

Though there are some who don't understand this.

"Oh, great."  Sunflower looks up from her foraging when she hears bare footsteps against the pavement approaching her.  "What are you doing here?"

"The festival biodome is a public space I haven't been banned from," the B&E werewolf says, with a hint of pride.  "Yet."

Sunflower huffs.

"Anyway, I wanted to apologize for going into your house the other day without permission.  Humans and werewolves have very different societies, and I'm still kind of new to the human one.  I didn't mean to offend."

"It's... fine, I guess," Sunflower mumbles.  She still doesn't fully understand herself, but one thing she's learned is that she has a constant desire to be good--and also see the good in others.  Besides, he seems just as harmless today as the day she met him.

"So, I was thinking," the werewolf continues, "if I do something really cool, then will you give me permission to enter your house?"

"What?  No?  Why would I... agree to that?"

 Undeterred, and determined to impress, the werewolf enters a nearby hot dog eating contest.  Apparently this the coolest thing one can do at a summer festival.

His competition is two teenagers and a pregnant woman.

 On your marks...  Get set...

Devour!

He, along with his other competitors, are soundly defeated by the very pregnant Paige Mosqueda.

"It's not fair!  She technically had two sims on her team," he rants to Sunflower afterward.  "That's cheating!"

"I'm sure you did your best," Sunflower replies gently, unsure how else to respond.  She bundles a harvest of bell peppers and limes into her arms.  "I'm gonna go home now."

A few days later, though, she's still thinking about the stupid werewolf man.  It's hard to stay mad at someone who eats that many hot dogs on your behalf.

Roe is getting older, and they still live in this tiny shack with only one bedroom.  Her daily neurotic breakdowns at work keep all her coworkers at arm's length.  She's been in Lunar Lakes a while now with no memories, no money, and no friends to speak of.  Now that someone actually wants to be part of her life, why is she so defensive?

 When he shows up a few days later with some onions in hand, she allows herself to be amused instead of annoyed.

"I was just thinking--well, I noticed at the summer festival that you were mostly interested in the fruits and veggies, so when I found these I thought, 'Hey, maybe that human girl will like them.'"

 "I ate most of them on the way here, actually, but I also found some mystery seeds in my back pocket.  I'm not sure how long they've been there, but you can have those too, if you want."

A pause.  Sunflower honestly has no idea what to say.

He motions to her collection of plants lamely.  "I, um, like your garden."

"You know you shouldn't to show up at someone's house when you don't even know them, right?" she supplies after a moment.  "It's kind of... weird."

The werewolf cocks an eyebrow.  "Why?"

She sighs, turning away.  "Never mind."

Then she pauses again.  "Actually... today is my son's birthday.  Do you want to... come in?"

Mission accomplished??

"He's actually been asking about you," Sunflower concedes once they're inside, trying not to sound bitter about it.  "Keeps asking me where the 'funny dog man' went."

"I've been called worse," the werewolf says breezily.  "So, how do humans celebrate birthdays?"

"It depends," Sunflower says.  She hesitates.  "Though, there's nothing really planned for today."

She feels suddenly self-conscious, about the rust on the metal floor sections and the lack of cake and decorations and gifts.  But the werewolf--Denn, she reminds herself--just smiles.

"Let's just howl really loud in celebration, then," he offers.  "Or cheer, if you prefer."

It's a lackluster event, but having just one other person there makes Sunflower feel like less of a terrible parent.

She's so thankful for her son, and Roe is surprisingly excited to see Denn there.

"Though, I know you're not actually a werewolf," Roe informs over 'birthday salad.'  "My mom read a book about supernatural creatures to me at the library once.  Werewolves went extinct with the dinosaurs."

"Shoot, really?" Denn smiles.  "I had no idea."

☾

Misc: Does your son have no friends because he's a literal baby?  Does your neurotic trait prevent you from building lasting relationships with your coworkers?  Just befriend your local neighborhood stalker werewolf!  What could go wrong!!