Manzanita wished for a trait beginning with the letter G and followed by a repeating vowel. And she got it!
“Because I am the great Manzanita, I always get my wish!”
Geek! (Ha! Had you going there for a moment!)
It fits this video-gaming fiend. She is officially an evil foodie geek whose aspiration is to spend her life with her soulmate.
And, of course, this makes Palo Verde, as eldest, the heir.
The couple that runs together, stays together.
Since I no longer felt the need to stay at the home lot so as not to miss Acacia’s death, I sent PV, Cassandra, and Manzanita off to the lounge, so that PV could tell some jokes, Cassandra could enjoy his performance, and Manzanita could meet someone who might, possibly, be a soulmate. (The devil?)
It’s hat-night at the lounge! (And look how much that elder with her steel-gray hair in the twist looks like Manzanita!)
The game definitely has a match-making component–all the men who showed up were evil or mean music-lovers, just Manzanita’s type! I’ve noticed in other legacies, as well as my own, that the game seems to generate fitting matches for single Sims.
Manzanita kind of likes the mixologist.
When everyone came home, it seemed like the perfect time for a party. Manzanita threw a black-and-white event, inviting everyone they’d met. Party crashers came, too, and it was a full house, full of life and mischief and noise.
The joint was hopping! (That’s Anya, now an elder, in that cute little black dress near the head of the table.)
Everyone dressed sharp. (And they all selected their own clothes autonomously! I love how their outfits express each of their personalities and fashion sense.) Can you tell that Manzanita and PV have been working out?
Manzanita dressed like a black-and-white tier cake.
Palo Verde heard that RachelRosebud thinks he looks cute in his wedding tux, so he wore it again.
Mesquite stole my heart in his musician’s tux.
No one seemed to notice that Acacia wasn’t there. In fact, I don’t think any of them know that she’s gone yet. They probably think she’s in the observatory.
At first, I felt disappointed and a little hurt that they didn’t seem to notice that she had died. It would have felt like a confirmation of my own feelings to see them express sorrow. But then I realized that their sorrow would only amplify my own. Like a Sim with the good trait, I’d feel sad if they were sad.
Let them party. Let them bake black-and-white cookies and joke about penguins and talk about the lack of newspapers.
My own feelings are black with Acacia’s loss, and white with the hope of new generations.
Let them party like there’s no reaper coming someday for each of us, which is, after all, the only way to truly live.
And who might this beautiful, mysterious stranger be?
Cathy Tea's SimLit Anthology 