Chapter Forty: Elder Gone Wild!

As a three star celebrity, Nathalie frequently gets calls from people claiming to be one of her agents to get out of her funk and have a night out in one of the local clubs. After talking to Ned, she finally heeds the advice and decides to visit the Moonlight Club. Life is for the living after all, and she's never been to a club before! "Plus it should be some good exercise, it should stretch muscles the treadmill just can't." Nathalie thinks as she looks warily around the flashy dance floor.

She's pleased to find out that nobody else besides the bartender is there this early in the evening, so she's free to try out all her little old lady groovy moves!

She feels the music flow within her, the passion of living all around her. Life couldn't be better, and yet there's still a lingering sense of regret. Nathalie shoves that wayward feeling aside, reminding herself that she'll be able to share the afterlife with Ned. She just needs a break from grieving, that's all. "But why does my smile feel so forced?" Nathalie thinks to herself sadly as the music slows to a soft pulse. "At least my children are happy and well." She whispers as she walks out of the club, alone.

Tyson decides to check out a lead after work, knowing that if he got any good information, he might get a promotion. He visits the Chinese Takeout place near the subway, intent on information. Okal Zweena's shoulders are hunched tensely, and Tyson instinctively knows that it's going to be hard to get any information out of this guy.

"Here goes nothing..." Tyson murmurs to himself before confronting the man.

"You are no welcome here. We do nothing wrong, you are just bad police." Slate-grey eyes stare Tyson down, giving him a intensely cold glare that makes Tyson want to run off and forget about becoming a police officer. Tyson takes a deep breath, he cannot show weakness in front of this man.

"I'm not here to put you under arrest Mr. Zweena. I just need a few moments of your time to answer some questions." Tyson forces himself to stand up straight, imagining himself as an iron rod. Intimidation seems to be the game he's going to play, either that or the tough family man who's a criminal just to protect his family.

"You police very obvious. You trick to reveal my secret, I not protected. I die, you no care. I have daughter, she too young to understand a dead father." Tyson can't help but think of his daughters, especially as young girls, but he knows he can't relent. He chose to be a police officer, chose to rein in his rebellious side and do good for the community. Okal Zweena chose his lifestyle, and he needs to face the consequences of habouring criminal's secrets.

 

"I have children too, but I haven't traded myself out to protect them." Tyson says sternly, watching the slight trembles and the added lines on the man's face. He's going to crack soon.
"You no understand. Valobos will feast my blood, then your blood. He hateful, nasty man. He control you with single glance, he stronger then all police combine. Nothing stop him." Okal's voice crackles, and it makes Tyson wonder if he actually regrets becoming one of Valobos' goons. It doesn't matter at this point, but it makes Tyson have some compassion for the man.

"Your daughter wouldn't understand her daddy being stuck in jail for most of her childhood for keeping the secrets of a fucked up prick. You need reveal the secrets of Ernie Valobos now or else I'll be forced to arrest you for obstruction of justice. And believe me, I can spread rumors in the tank that can get you killed before Valobos can even reach you." Okal visibly gulps, he knows that Tyson is a rookie at the moment, but his easy-going ways make him a valued part of the force. He can be the dirtiest cop out there, and nobody would suspect a thing.

"Checkmate!" Tyson thinks triumphantly as Okal starts to spill the goods about Valobos. He's surprised to find that he has managed to steal over a million simoleans from banks, local stores, and various other places. What a rich bastard! It makes sense in a way why Okal would align himself with the powerful vampire, his livelihood is protected if he joins Valobos' leagues.

Tyson immediately switches into some comfy, tired of being in that stuffy uniform all day. Hell, today he just doesn't want to be a cop. Being the bad cop sucks! Especially when a small part of him wonders if he would actually go through with his threats. He just feels like crawling into a ball and screaming until the world gets the fuck out his way.

Irish sees that her father is tense, and offers to play a game of chess. Tyson smiles softly at his beautiful daughter. Irish may be a bit shy, but she has a knack for understanding just what people need.

"Dad, you alright?" Irish asks with a small frown. Usually Tyson's cheerful after work, so this withdrawn attitude is new to her. Tyson shrugs, unsure of what to say.

"Today just was tough honey. I got a great lead, but I had to be a bastard to do it." Tyson's voice shakes slightly, guilt leaking through his carefree facade.

"Oh, Dad." Irish whispers, she's never seen him so serious before. Usually he's making a joke, and even when he gives advice, he has a happy glow about him. "You're a good cop, sometimes the bad guys just make it a bit harder to stay good." Tyson nods, but Irish thinks he still seems unsettled. "It's alright, we all make mistakes. Let's go to bed early and let it go until morning." Tyson nods distantly as he puts the chess pieces away.

It's morning, and Isadora is determined to make the perfect breakfast. 

"It can't be that hard to make waffles!" She exclaims unhappily as she takes out the blackened pastry.

Irish tries to cheer her Dad up by laughing lightheartedly burnt pile of waffles, despite feeling disgusted by having to eat the disgusting breakfast. Tyson just wishes he was still in bed. He's still sullen and doesn't speak to anybody in the family.

Tyson leaves after taking a few unhappy bites. Irish sighs, and Isadora, mouth full of syrupy black waffles, gives Irish a questioning look.

"Dad's just sad, he had a bad day of work last night and he's not over it." Isadora scrunches her face, she's never been really good at helping with other people's problems. "I think we need to cheer him up Isa, it's not good to let him sulk for this long." Isadora shrugs, better then any idea she had. She finishs up the last bite and rushes out the door.

As Irish waits for the dishwasher to finish up scraping the last remains of those horrid waffles, she worries about her Dad. She's always been closer to Tyson, and it hurts her to see him this sad for doing his job.

Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Ghostly Presence

A chill overcomes the household as the sun sets and the stars glitter ominously in the shadowed sky. Irish finds herself typing absentmindedly on the computer, unsure what she should write her Biology report on. Her teacher suggests basing the report on plants, knowing that Roxanne has a large garden with a variety of rare plants. But Irish doesn't think that's the right project for her. No, her report needs to be experimental. "I need to push the envelope between what is known and what can't be known." Irish mutters, oddly poetic for such a serious gal.

She writes a few lame suggestions, then shrugs them off. "A plasma fruit with a life plant graft would be interesting, but what vampire wants to live even longer?" Irish mumbles to herself, her mind racing as ideas bounce all about her brain. If only she could think up the perfect idea...

Nathalie goes to the backyard to look out at the unusually bright sky through her telescope. But she grows misty-eyed as she finds an even brighter sight lingering near Ned's grave.
"Ned..." Nathalie whispers softly as she grabs onto the ghostly hand. She feels like the hand is there, yet not. She wonders if that's what he's like now, just a wisp of what he once was.

"Nathalie." Semi-vacant eyes struggle to focus on the person right in front of him. His voice is distant, yet still more aware then it was days before his death.
"You're better. You're actually better." Nathalie softly pulls her hand away, unsure of what she is feeling right now. She's amazed, but wary. "Death cured you of what medicine could not." Nathalie stares into his ghostly white eyes, remembering the beautiful brown they were before.

Irish swivels away from her computer, suddenly feeling a tingling urge to get out of the house for a moment. "I've never felt like this before, but yet it's oddly familiar." She mutters to herself. Not one to normally go with her gut feeling, Irish ignores the sensation and tries to put her focus back onto her Biology project.

"It's been so long, I've missed you for so long..." Nathalie chokes out, salty tears running down her wrinkly cheeks. Why is it that she doesn't feel overwhelming joy by seeing him? Why does she just feel an overwhelming sense of loss?
"Me too Nathalie, me too. It's not the same without you." Ned smiles softly, clearly reminiscing of a life once lived. Nathalie frowns slightly, her feelings a complete mess right now.
"I know Ned, but I just question if this relationship can last through death. The grandchildren are growing so fast, and you've missed it all. I wonder if we've been too long apart?" She wishes that she didn't have to say this out loud, as she knows it will hurt him deeply. Despite the internal conflict she has with her words, Nathalie feels lighter as she reveals her emotions to the one person who she trusts more then anything.
"No! I've missed you so much Nattie! No, Nathalie, NO!" Ned lets out a haunted scream at the thought of losing the one he loves to something as simple as time. She shivers as she watches her love loses himself to his emotions for a moment. It's just a moment of many, among moments of sweet kisses and tender love. But it's enough for Nathalie to make her decision.

"I'm sorry Ned, but I'm just so tired of grieving. Tired of not truly living because I can't move past our love. I'll never be with another, but I need to live my life." Ned tries to fight the translucent tears running down his face, but ultimately fails.
"But I love you Nathalie! Please don't leave me!" Nathalie smiles softly, ironically at peace with her decision while Ned is in such emotional straits.

"Dammit, I just can't focus!" Irish curses as she taps impatiently on the keyboard. "It's like my brain has died today or something. Ugh, maybe a breathe of fresh air will help me focus again. If nothing else, I can harvest a few plants for that dorky Plasma/Life Fruit graft idea." Irish sighs as she pushes herself away from the computer.




















"I'll always love you, and we'll be together forever once I pass on. I just can't mourn anymore, not when my life is so short. I only have so much time left, and I need to live it." Nathalie tells Ned as she turns around and walks towards her family. Ned watches with teary white eyes, horrified at her decision. Why was he even here, if not to be with his love?

"GAMPA NED!" Irish screams, momentarily forgetting that she doesn't have the vocabulary of a toddler anymore. She runs over to a miserable Ned, babbling nonsensically about how much she's missed him. Slowly he starts to smile again, he's always loved his grandchildren with all his heart.

"Nathalie was right, you grandchildren have really grown up while I've been gone." Ned whispers, in awe. "You look just like my mother, your great-grandmother." Irish beams, she's always dressed to reflect her Chinese heritage. They stare at each other in silence for several moments, both trying to permanently etch the site into their minds forever.

 Irish grows more serious as she realizes what an opportunity this is. She's finally able to ask all the question about her grandfather that she never could as a child, not to mention that the mentality of a ghost versus a human would be the perfect topic for her science project.
"Grampa, are you really alive over there? How is it being dead?" Irish asks, her eyes alight with curiosity.
"Irish sweetheart, if I could reveal the secrets of the dead to you, do you not think I wouldn't have already done it? There are laws, otherwise the world would already know the ways of the dead and it wouldn't be a mystery anymore." Ned smiles softly as Irish stomps her foot like a perpetual child. "One thing I can tell you however is that science is not the path to happiness for you. You need to use your gifts, logic and writing, and discover the world's secrets. Just not the secrets of the dead, or else you could get punished by the Fates-I mean, by somebody." Ned just said too much, and he feels his ghostly form start to fade away.

 "Goodbye Irish, I know you'll be great someday, just as long as you follow your heart. And try to convince your grandmother of taking me back!" Ned shouts as he turns into vapour. She stares as the grave and cries for the man that she and Isadora never really got to know.

Nathalie is pumped, she is going to be the most fabulous old lady Brooklyn Heights has ever seen! She'll even make the granny jammies stylish again!
"Hopefully Ned isn't too upset, I'm just doing what's best for me at this point." Nathalie thinks to herself as her muscles contest such rigorous exercise. She stops the machines and stares up at the ceiling, praying that she'll find true happiness once again before she dies.

 Irish opens her laptop again, ready to write her report. She may not wish to explore the ways of the afterlife anymore, but she doesn't see a problem with writing a report about the biology of a ghost versus human biology. After all, ghosts are common in her town, and she has the testimony of a level ten Ghost Hunter to make her report less biased. She just won't mention anything about Ned or his vague information on the Fates, hopefully that's enough to not piss off the Fates.

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Family Bonds

The day starts with a steamy mix of pixels and Woohoo. Tyson and Roxanne's passion certainly hasn't faded after all these years of marriage.

Though with that hot bod, who could resist the occasional "clean" Woohoo?

Poor Nathalie has to clean the aftermath however, as the two lovebirds had to hurry to work.
"Why Roxanne can't take a few seconds from her bloody garden, I don't know! I have to clean up my own son's semen!" Nathalie rants as she scrubs furiously. "At least the girls didn't see this. How horrific would it have been if they were witness to this mess!"

After cleaning, Nathalie calls Thorne, longing to see her other son. But she gets some shocking news when an unfamiliar voice picks up the phone. After talking for a few minutes to the boy, she gets a hold of Thorne and gives him a piece of her mind.
"You have a son and didn't tell me! Yes, Thorne, I would have wanted to see him! Why did you not tell your little old mother that you had a seven year old son! Yes Thor, I'm an elder now, I even got a little old lady nightie for the occassion! No Thorne, I'm not becoming boring. I can karate chop you into pieces if I wanted! Mmm-hmm...I see. I love you too, but- I know it's been hard for you guys but...wait, what am I saying? Shame on you! I want to see you too, but, but come on! He's seven! Oh, yes...fine, I'll be over at around 7! No, no, nothing fancy, just a small get-together. Stop that, I've waited long enough! And I better see my only grandson!" Nathalie hangs up the phone, a small smile on her face from talking with her insanely grumpy son.

Irish isn't sure why she's being dragged away from a riveting game of chess with her Dad to visit some weird uncle and nephew she's never heard about before. She'd much rather just do some homework. Nathalie wonders why this random guy in the ugly brown sweater decided to invade on their little makeshift family reunion.

Tyson shrugs uncomfortably with Nathalie's request. Why does he have to distract the interloper while everybody else has fun? Plus he has to wear stuffy clothes as well, a real pain for the rebellious father.

Still, it gives him an excuse to interrogate somebody. A promotion would be an alright reward for losing out on this night of fun. But he scoffs inwardly at this guy's sweater, despite his manly ahorrance on thinking about people's outfit choices. "Seriously though, it's perputal summer here. There's no need for Granny's shit-covered sweater to come out." Tyson thinks with a snicker. There, swearing should make him macho again.

Nathalie smiles as she sees her granddaughter introduce herself to the surly Thorne. Just seeing her family interact with each other makes her heart sing. She's created these people, made their lives as best as she could. She wishes that Ned could be there with her to share this with her, but she's happy that she at least is still there for her babies and grand-babies. Speaking of grand-babies, where is this Skye child she's heard so little about?

As if reading her thoughts, Thorne smirks as he tells Nathalie of Skye's whereabouts. "Skye went out to get something to eat. He probably won't be back until late, he's a bit absent-minded." Thorne has to laugh as Nathalie's smile turns into a frustrated grimace. "He's kind of anti-social anyway Mom, you probably couldn't get a word out of him. Looks a lot like Ned though, oddly enough, even though there's no blood relation. Keeps his hair just like his, and his hair is much straighter then anybody else in the family. Weird." Nathalie sniffs sadly, she misses Ned so much, even after all this time has gone past.

Meanwhile, Irish completely forgets about being polite and talking to her relatives when she sees the telescope in the back patio. "I couldn't see this part of town using the telescope at home, limited range and all- Oh! There's a bit of light pollution here, but I think I see Tyson's Moon! Oh, I've been searching for that one forever! And what is that?" Yes, Irish will not be joining the party.

"Your walls are cool Thor, psychedelic to the max!" Isadora cracks a smile, she's super excited to talk to this strange relative of hers. He's like a mystery of madness! Nathalie fights to laugh as she sternly tells Isadora off for her impoliteness. They both shrug her off, neither especially caring about society's expectations. Besides, being called Thor reminds him of his son."Skye used to call me Tho-Tho, it always made Rosaline laugh." Nathalie laughs until her sides hurt, she thought calling Tyson "Ty-Ty" as a toddler adorable, but Tho-Tho is so much better! "It isn't that funny Mom!" Thorne can only shake his head at his mother antics.

Tyson surprisingly gets a lot of information from this character, he's in connection with quite a few of the more irritating pickpockets around town, and has limited information about a notorious burglar who the police have been struggling to make a case on. All he has to do is show off his badge, which is always on him, and make idle chitchat turn into confessions. Tyson finds that he rather enjoys interrogation, especially trying to read this guy's face when he realizes how much information he's just revealed. It's like the perfect game of chess, only harder. And Tyson loves a challenge.

When Nathalie leaves the room, presumably to steal and then return a few of Thorne's lights and other small knickknacks, Thorne merely shrugs and focuses in on the red-headed twin. "You look a lot like Nathalie when she was younger, maybe a bit more fiery-headed then her. Did you dye it?" Thorne asks, trying to make pleasant conversation. His insanity has been much weaker since he's made his family with Rosaline, and his grumpiness is weakened by having a child. Grumpiness just can't last with children about, even when they're anti-social grumps themselves.
"Ruby Broke's grandchild's here, flaming red hair is her specialty!" Thorne smirks, he forgot that she's a Broke relative. It's been a while since his time in Riverview.
"So what's a little red-headed Broke child like you into?" Thorne asks, smiling at the fire in those bright green eyes, much like his own, at the mere mention of being a child.
"Hey, I'm no child! I'm starting high school next we-wait, you're teasing me, aren't you?" Glittering green eyes say it all. Isadora lightly smacks her uncle. "I know you're an artist, unlike Mr. Logic Guy over there" She gestures over to her father, who's still distracting the unwanted visitor. "I want to be like you, only with writing."

"It's a rough life Isadora, you need to be confident in your ability and love for your art." Thorne looks at her intently, searching for something, what it is he doesn't know. Isadora nods fiercely, her eyes alight.
"I love writing! They say a picture is a thousand words, but I've always through that you can't truly appreciate something without the words to describe it. And what is a picture without a title, or lack of?" It is obvious that she's been thinking about this for a while. He nods sadly, seeing the same fire that he once had. Perhaps it's still there, but died down from years of failure.
"You can't ever waver, and sometimes you may go without because you're trying to fulfill your life's passions. I wanted three or four children, but we can only afford one and keep up with the rent. We may never own a house, and most of the reason why we have a house at all is because Rosaline works as a handyman...or is it handy-woman? Either way, Rosaline and I have suffered in our attempt to have a stable life, due to my inability to sell my pieces." Isadora nods, but the passion in her eyes have not diminished.

"I know it's going to be hard." Isadora turns more serious, starting to process what Thorne had just revealed to her. "I'll consider what you've said, but I just don't think it'll change anything. I don't want to regret not living my life based on the fear of failure. It's a failure in itself, isn't it? One with no possibility of true success."

Thorne and Isadora talk for hours, until the darkness outside becomes much too obvious to ignore.
"It was really nice talking to you Uncle Thor, it's been a while since I've been able to talk like this to somebody. My sister Irish likes writing too, but she's much more like Dad. She never thinks outside the box, you know?" Thorne nods and reluctantly gives her a small hug/pat on the on the back. He likes this feisty little girl, she reminds him much of himself as a young child.

After the get together ends, Irish can't sleep. She feels like she's just messed up really big, but not sure why. Tyson, hyped up after his great interview, invites Irish to a game of chess.
"You kind of disappeared tonight, huh?" Tyson brings up tentatively after a few moves.
"Yeah, I guess. I know we have a telescope at home, but this one was at a different angle-" Tyson cuts her off, a sad smile on his face.
"That's not the reason sweetheart." Before she can protest, he puts his hand up. "Hear me out. How many friends do you have that Isadora didn't introduce to you?" Irish shakes her head, Isadora has always had a bright personality that people seem to radiate to. Only her family has acknowledged her as somebody other then Isa's twin.

"I'm just concerned sweetheart. I know that while you love logic and puzzles, you really want to get to the heart of life's mysteries. That's not going to happen in a laboratory, and you'll be bored out of your mind in paperwork and useless discoveries." Irish opens her mouth, then pauses. It's true, and she didn't even know that about herself.
"You're just like me Irish. I could have been one of the top scientists in Riverview or Brooklyn Heights. I certainly contemplated it, as I enjoyed working with my chemistry set. But it wasn't for me, just like it isn't for you." Irish nods as Tyson removes another of her pawn from the board.

"Thanks for the advice, I'll definitely think on it. I've always thought science was the only way for me, but maybe you're right." She stands up, a knowing smile on her face. "I'm just going to lose anyway, so I'm going to head to bed. I love you Dad."
"You're right, I better get this old body up to bed. Maybe Roxie will join me, if you know what I mean."
"Ew Dad, too much info!" They laugh softly as to not wake up the other family members.
"I love you too, I always will no matter what you choose." They smile at each other, feeling much closer to each other then they ever have before.