[LOG] The Cursed Child

[worldofice]

Who: Echizen Ryoma and Atobe Keigo
What: Echizen shows Atobe how to play ‘The Sims’.
Where: Echizen’s quarters
When: Shortly after Mizuki's anonymous advice post.
Warnings/Notes:


Atobe strode down the hallway of the crew quarters, a portable console tucked under one arm. He had spent the morning downloading ‘The Sims 36’; a game only marginally less retrograde than the maniacal karting game he had been playing with Oshitari. The Karura’s diminutive driver had recommended this entertainment. That is, he had stated it was weird in an anonymous advice column hosted by the Victorian tea-loving therapist. Regardless of the exact details, the boy was now going to demonstrate how to play. Reaching door #2, Atobe buzzed his demand for entrance.

Having spent most of the night at the helm of the Karura, Echizen had enjoyed his sleep in until Karupin decided that his snoozing head was prime seating. The fluffy tail shoved under his nose had convinced him to wake up and get ready for the gym. As soon as he pulled on his gym shorts, the buzzer rang.

Could it be a ship emergency? No, they would have called first. More likely, it was Kikumaru asking for another weightlifting competition, or Atobe looking for his feline babysitter.

It turned out that he was right about one thing, but the laptop didn’t make much sense. “Hey, Monkey King,” he scratched his bedhead absently. “Need me to proof a Dear Abby letter, or something?” He stepped aside, allowing Atobe to enter at his leisure.

Atobe looked down his nose at him in distaste. “Do you ever shower, boy?” he inquired. The child was clearly donning clothes without first rinsing his barely-past-puberty sweat from his skinny frame. He stepped into the room and was distracted from dispatching further disparaging remarks by the presence of Karupin, who came to demand that he was properly addressed. It was a command for which Atobe had some respect. He held out a hand for the cat to sniff, before rubbing the dark pointed ears. “I require you to demonstrate this ‘Sims’ game,” he told Echizen, glancing back at the towselled young man by the door.

Atobe’s insult bounced right off the sleepy Echizen. “What’s the point of showering before you work out?” he said, closing as Atobe encountered the fluffiest greeting committee. On hearing Atobe’s demand, Echizen blinked sleep from his eyes. So the bar owner had been the anonymous commenter after all. It wasn’t particularly surprising.

“Fine, but you have to wash my back after,” he stretched his arms above his head and shifted the materials around his neat desk, making room for Atobe’s laptop.

Atobe sniffed in disdain. “Visit the bar and you can be cleansed with the rubbing alcohol we use on the countertops,” he informed his grubby host. He set his computer on the desk, opening up the screen and starting the game. After the introduction of video created individuals enjoying questionable beverages flashed by, a menu screen appeared with the option to create a new Sims world or join one of the existing realisations on the Karura’s network. Atobe looked at Echizen with a lifted eyebrow. “What would you advice?”

“So that’s how you bathe – explains the smell,” Echizen drawled. He left Atobe the desk chair and put his own laptop on the corner of the desk, such that he could sit on the edge of his bed and use it.

As he looked around for the Sims on his own computer, he said, “Sit pretty for a second. I’m sending you an invitation to my Sim town. That way you can get straight to making characters without the boring shit.”

Despite what he said about the Sims earlier, it took Echizen only a few moments to find NekoMachi and e-mail an invitation to Atobe. “Just input that world code.”

… cat town. Atobe looked at Karupin who had jumped onto the desk to sniff at his console and then at Echizen with a raised eyebrow, “This location better have regularly changed litter boxes.” Evidently, hygiene was going to be a running theme of that morning.

He tapped in the code and watched as the streets unfolded before him. A flashing arrow drew his attention to the ‘add a sim’ button on the screen corner. Pressing it, Atobe was taken to a movie style dressing room where a digital woman stood before mirrors in distressingly dull clothing. A few clicks and Atobe had changed gender, hair style and placed the individual in a sharp suit. Sim Keigo was ready to rule.

Back in the town, he sniffed. “Why are my finances in such poor order?” he demanded. “How is one supposed to purchase a suitable property with so few….” he squinted at the screen. “... simoleons?”

“You’re supposed to take quests for money,” Echizen searched his memory. On his own computer, he checked up on his mansion of cats. Surprisingly, none of them have died. “You can either use a cheat code for funds, or move into the cat mansion.”

Though since it was Atobe, he wouldn’t be surprised if he decided on both. He couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t lock Atobe’s character in a room with no toilet overnight.

Atobe made a small sound of disgust. “You will never make a business man if you cheat,” he informed Echizen. His Sim walked to the mansion and entered unannounced. In the foyer were several pet food bowls that appeared to be empty. Atobe clicked on one and his Sim filled it with cat kibble.

Walking through the house, his approached a dark haired Sim wearing a baseball cap and attempted to engage in conversation. The simoleon money symbol flashed above Sim!Atobe’s head followed by a large red minus above both the Sims. “What does this mean?” Atobe demanded.

Echizen snorted. “Good thing I’m a pilot, then.”

The Sim character had been contently petting one of his cats (all name Karupin) when Atobe’s character came along. “It means that you’re as charming in video games as you are in real life. My character doesn’t like you.”

It was fair, since the suited Sim seemed to barge in to play with his cats and have some mysterious conversation about money. “Maybe he thinks you’re trying to rob him. Or proposition him.”

“This is a proposition, boy,” Atobe informed him. “My Sim will reside at this abode and in return…” his eyes scanned the largely unfurnished rooms with disdain. “I will see it suitably furnished.”

His Sim attempted to re-engage the baseball cap’d Sim in another conversation. This time, a picture of a cat flashed above both their heads, followed by a green double plus sign. “Presumably, this means your virtual self is realising the potential of this interaction?”

Echizen hummed vaguely; it was true, the mansion was mostly filled with cat trees and scratching posts.

“Or that since you like cats, you can’t be completely hopeless,” he didn’t bother to specify Atobe’s virtual self.

The computer Echizen continued the conversation by handing Atobe a cat, which resulted in more green plus signs and an incredibly random conversation that, judging by the pictures, involved ancient pyramids, daffodils, and a coffin. “Besides, how can you furnish anything without money? Gonna go take a quest?”

“Do you not have a job? How did you purchase this house?” The real Atobe’s hand scratched a non-virtual Karupin under the chin as he imitated his own Sim. That Sim seemed to have laid out its pixelated life plans to the only obvious companion in this world and declared them best friends. Atobe’s eyes narrowed; his virtual self seemed excessively easy.

He clicked on Echizen’s Sim and received an extended list of options that included ‘talk about hobbies’, ‘flirt’ and ‘ask to move in’. None of those were exactly how Atobe would have chosen to progress this conversation, but he selected the nearest to his goal. The Echizen Sim considered it. “And exactly what is a quest? This game does not have an evident medieval theme.”

Atobe was allowed to move into the large mansion. Apparently Echizen’s Sim didn’t have the best judgment. That, or his Sim had mistaken Atobe for a very ugly cat.

“I used a cheat code,” Echizen explained. “Take a look at the left bottom screen. You should have some kind of instruction. Also things like taking care of your Sim and its environment will get you Simoleons…you got a few for feeding the cats.”

When Atobe’s Sim started squirming, Echizen knew it was seconds away from relieving itself on the floor. He wondered if he should tell Atobe that he had to do that much too. “You can start with that,” he said vaguely, of the potty-dancing Sim.

Atobe looked at his Sim in mild horror. “Exactly why….” he began. Then the reason became clear in the form of a sparkling yellow pool that was definitely not champagne. The diamond above Sim Atobe’s head went red. If the actual Atobe had a floating diamond, it too would have gone red in more extreme horror. “This game appears to be the equivalent of the child dolls that exude bodily fluids. Exactly why wants to ‘play’ at such basic processes is unfathomable.”

Zooming out on his screen revealed that the mansion did at least have a bathroom. Atobe directed his Sim to the required room and showered three times in succession. He contemplated deleting the Sim and starting again but that would mean charming Echizen’s clone once again; an act almost as low as urinating on the floor. His Sim exited the mansion and picked up a discarded newspaper sitting on the grass. It advertised a life of crime. How ironic. The pay was better than trainee lawyer. Atobe signed on as a pick pocket.

Echizen’s Sim noted his new housemate’s activity with a disturbing lack of alarm, then walked away to fill the rest of the cat dishes.

“Whatever, you’re cleaning that up,” he decided not to tell Atobe that some weirdoes probably got off on having that level of control. The bartender was strange enough without considering kinky angles.

After feeding the cats, Echizen fed his Sim the entire contents of the fridge. He looked over to see what Atobe was doing and couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up. It was kind of the reverse of real life, Echizen starting out with an absurd amount of money and Atobe opting for a life of crime. “A pickpocket, really?”

“What can I say, I’ve heard it leads to genuine financial independence,” Atobe said with studied dryness. An extremely beat-up looking car appeared and his Sim stepped inside, presumably to be dropped off at the nearest busy market.

He looked at the puddle of urine and sniffed. His Sim most certainly was not cleaning that up. What they needed was a maid. One who did not require paying. Atobe clicked on the “add sim” icon and was taken back to the virtual dressing room. A few clicks and a third Sim appeared in their world. This one entered the house and set about mopping up the yellow pool. Notably, it had blue hair.

“Among other things. Let’s see what you can do,” Echizen agreed, side-eying Atobe. It would be interesting to pickpocket Atobe in real life, to see if his Sim occupation protected him.

“Is that meant to be Oshitari-sensei or Yukimura-san?” Echizen asked, amused. While Atobe looked for a job, Echizen’s Sim decided to float around in the pool while fully clothed.

“It is merely generic,” Atobe responded, waving away the suggestion that their new maid bore any resemblance to another Karura member. As Echizen floated in the pool, he set the new Sim to refilling all the cat bowls in the house. “Additionally, Oshitari wears glasses.” The Sim --rather notably-- did not.

His gaze slid over to the real Echizen beside him. “Stop eyeing me, boy,” he told him. “I am neither an easy target for you to relive your criminal past nor remotely interested in any form of physical liaison.”

The battered work car pulled up and dropped Atobe’s Sim back at the mansion. It had got a promotion. Atobe was now a ‘bagman’. His Sim changed into a pair of speedos and went to join Echizen in the pool.

He really didn’t care that much about the maid. It was smart, really, to have another Sim do all the boring things. Any credit that Atobe had earned was quickly lost with the implication that Ryoma wanted any sort of physical liaison (with the maybe exception of a fist fight).

“Just for that…” Echizen’s Sim climbed out of the pool and destroyed the ladder behind him. “Burgle your way out of there, bag man.”

Sims, unfortunately, could not exit a pool without a ladder. With the full knowledge of this, Echizen directed his Sim to play with the cats.

Atobe’s Sim attempted to follow Echizen out of the pool, thought about steps with a big red cross and started to perform laps. Atobe watched it earn a body point.

Scanning the rooms in the mansion, he selected what was clearly the master suite. It was furnished with a cheap single bed. This was thrown out on the lawn. The blue haired sim --exhausted by the tasks of cleaning-- promptly climbed in and went to sleep. Atobe purchases a four poster bed for the main room. And a grand piano. Their family fund took a plunge, but basics were basics. “This is now my room,” he told Echizen. “Unemployed layabouts can go elsewhere.”

In the pool, his Sim earned a second body point and started to think about food. Atobe replaced the steps and sent the Sim (still in speedos) to learn how to cook. It set fire to the kitchen.

“So you say, as you buy a ton of crap with my money. What a gold digger,” Echizen noted the fire and shooed all of the cats into the living room. He contained the fire by building another wall between the living room and kitchen. Trapping Atobe’s Sim inside was just a bonus. “By the way, if you cook something with a fire symbol on it, a fire will start,” he warned, belatedly.

Atobe exhaled in pained exasperation and his Sim ran around the kitchen in panic, thinking about flames. The fire moved from the stove to the neighbouring kitchen cabinet. Atobe replaced the door and woke their third Sim, sending it into the blaze. That Sim also thought fire and then left and called the fire brigade from the phone in the hallway. Atobe’s Sim continued to watch the world burn.

“You undoubtedly filched that money,” Atobe told Echizen. “Given that, it clearly belongs to me. I am the bagman around here.” It was undeniable logic, if not something that should have been said with any sense of pride.

A fireman Sim appeared and extinguished the blaze. Atobe’s Sim began a conversation with him, apparently asking about his financial situation. His Sim was clearly considering robbing the fireman later. Atobe was impressed by its work ethic.

“Get a job, boy,” Atobe told Echizen. “There’s a paper on the lawn.”

Echizen’s Sim was content to ignore the fire and play cat herder in the backyard. The digital cats were much more interested in string than their home ablaze.

Atobe was learning the game pretty quickly if he could replace the door and get out of the house in time. Echizen was a good teacher. Or at least, good at creating necessity.

“If I filched that money, doesn’t that mean I outrank you?” he pointed out, picking up said newspaper. “I’ll just become your boss, then.”

Echizen selected the occupation housewife.

Atobe shot him a withering look. “How exactly will you be paid for that, ahn?” His eyes turned back to the computer screen and scanned the still sparsely decorated mansion. “Even if income were possible, it is quite clear you would not be making it.”

His Sim stared at the burnt stove and looked upset. Atobe instructed it to take a bag of potato chips from the refrigerator. Hopefully his virtual self was eating a more balanced diet while on the job. Their third Sim said a cheery goodbye to the fireman and then also stared at the stove agast. Atobe directed it to read a book on cooking.

“If you are to be the housewife, exactly what is the role of the boun-- additional Sim?” he inquired, with a wave of his hand at the screen. The boy was vexing and there was clearly only one solution. “We will have to have a baby.”

While the cats gamboled around to the conducting of the Sim’s string, Echizen considered. “The way most bosses do, with a thirty percent cut of your pay.” At least, that’s how it worked for the pirate version. Atobe had accused him of as much already, so why not make use of his talents?

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “We have discovered why you are single. There’s a difference between housewife and housekeeper…” Though babies fell distinctly into the duties of the former, Echizen said, “It’s an open marriage. Use the maid.”

It was more important to walk around the block, a parade of cats in tow.

“A thirty percent cut… for what?” Atobe inquired coolly. Echizen clearly was not about do any task around the house, unless you counted eating the food and playing with the cats. Atobe did not count either of those activities as worthy of financial compensation.

The blue haired Sim had finished his book and earned a cookery point. He was now attempting to engage Atobe’s virtual self in conversation. The burnt stove seemed to be making far too regular an appearance in the thought bubbles.

“Use the maid…” Atobe repeated in a tone initially of disgust, fading to a slight choke. Images from a distant moon swirled around his head. Steps needed to be taken to put this household in order.

His Sim cut off the blue haired Sim in mid-rant and approached the telephone. A few minutes later and a social worker was on their way to drop off the new infant. Atobe had selected a baby for adoption: the boy was proof that you had to get them young to have any impact on their future.

“Housewife, remember to collect the baby from the lawn,” Atobe informed Echizen as his Sim went to work.

“For all the things I’m not doing to you,” Echizen said, in perfect pirate order. Atobe was surprisingly adept at making his living arrangements. The businessman was certainly more into the point of the game than Echizen had ever been. He had lost interest after seeing to his army of cats.

Somehow, Echizen returned to the house with even more felines in tow.

“Better this way,” he commented, as his Sim went forward to pick up the baby. “Since she’s adopted, she’ll have the good fortune of avoiding all the primate that runs in the family.”

A screen popped up, prompting Echizen to select a name for the little girl. He typed in Karupin. It wouldn’t be at all confusing, even if all the cats bore the same name.

“She may even be prepared to work for a living,” Atobe said dryly. He made no objection to the name. One could hardly argue naming even his daughter after a beautiful creature. Reaching a hand down, he scratched the real Karupin around the ears. “She will need a crib. And you should restrict yourself to 10 cats.”

He instructed the blue haired Sim to clean the pool. Then decided it was unlikely that Echizen would purchase anything other than a cat basket for his child. Browsing through the options, he elected a rockable cradle with a canopy.

“We will have her tutored at home. I will not send my daughter to a public school on one of those yellow buses.”

“Her father will support her until she’s old enough to make that decision for herself,” Echizen said. If Atobe couldn’t make enough money as a bag man, well, he could just input the cheat code again after the bartender went to bed.

Echizen’s housewife Sim was happy to make faces for the baby and keep her mood bar nice and high.

Looking sideways at Atobe and the contented Karupin, Echizen said, “Those yellow school busses will beef up her immune system. She’s going to elementary school at least.”

“She does not need to be taught how to pick her nose and contract plague,” Atobe replied, crisply. “By the time she is of age to attend school, she will be far more advanced than any child there.” That this was a virtual child whose development was a function of the game programming did not dampen Atobe’s ambitions for his daughter.

“We will require a tutor.” He clicked on the blue haired Sim again. “Get reading,” he told him, sending the Sim back to the bookcase.

Atobe’s own Sim arrived back home with the news that he was now a “bookie”. He walked into the house and attempted to take the baby from Echizen.

“But if she’s exposed to you too long, she’ll think that it’s natural for people to walk around with their head up their ass. For a bartender, you ignore a lot of social cues,” Echizen said. That he was equally if not more guilty of the same didn’t really matter.

Echizen’s Sim chatted to Atobe’s. Judging by the pictures, their riveting conversation centered around guns, cats, and children. “I can’t tell if you’re making your way up or down in the world.” He let Atobe take their daughter. While he and his Sim were preoccupied, Echizen signed the girl up for preschool.

“I do not operate the kind of bar that requires me to read them,” Atobe responded dismissively. People came to the Ice Bar to be seen with him, not to have their whims powdered like hair styles in a chintzy salon. That was the role of Mizuki’s tea therapy room.

“And if she spends too much time with you, she will believe ambition is optional.” Although in fact, Echizen’s Sim was not reflecting the true version in this. Anyone who went from boy pirate to an atrociously young senior flight officer did not genuinely laze around. Raw talent could only get you so far. He shot the real Echizen a sideways look. “Get a job,” he told him again.

The baby was starting to smell. Atobe’s Sim looked horrified and walked into the neighbouring room to force the child on the blue haired Sim. Storm clouds gathered above their third adult resident as he was disturbed yet again. “While I am not promoted to bounty hunter, I am surely on the rise.”

The maid that resembled Yukimura started to change diapers as Atobe mentioned bounty hunters. “Sure you are. And you know, whatever about the social cues, but you could try not being transparent,” Echizen almost added for your own good, but that would imply that he cared.

Clicking complete, Echizen said, “I did my job. Our daughter is signed up for pre-school. I hope that she catches chicken pox and gives it to a certain bookie.”

“Transparent, ahn?” Atobe turned to look at the diminutive twerp sitting beside him. On the computer, his Sim did the same. “What is it you believe you can see in me, boy?”

The issue with his daughter and the common diseases of peasants would be dealt with presently.

“An ongoing fixation,” Echizen said. “It’s not really my business, but...” But Atobe had brought it into his Sim world and made it difficult to ignore. At least with his current limit of ten cats.

He gave Atobe a mild look and said nothing further. Once the diaper was changed, his Sim had a baby to entertain in a newly purchased bouncer.

“Astounding,” Atobe said in cool dismissal, turning back to the screen. “You are hardly known for your skilled interpersonal skills, yet you believe you can assess my own.”

His Sim watched Echizen place their daughter in the baby bouncer. Two of the cats loitered nearby. One looked decided jealous. Atobe placed three new purple rugs down in his room. He gave the next door space he had allocated to Echizen a desk lamp. It automatically came on as the sim house darkened. The baby began to think about birthdays.

“Three more cats,” Atobe suggested, casually. “And the third Sim sleeps in a shed outside.”

“If the son of a pirate is commenting on your interpersonal skills, you should assess yourself,” Echizen pointed out. Once Karupin the baby was suitably entertained with her bouncer and thoughts, Echizen’s Sim sat down to offer a cat toy.

It might be prudent to build a second floor, what with the baby and all of those cats. Even if their third Sim was being sent to the shed. “Sure,” he agreed, as easily pleased as the feline rubbing his face against Echizen’s laptop. “I name the cats.”

“Did your father never require smooth talking to ensure his ability to exit a situation?” Atobe inquired. Surely the luck of even Nanjirou Echizen had to run low enough for encounters some time. Especially if everything he had heard about the risky endeavours of the legendary pirate were true.

Clicking on the ‘build’ icon, Atobe placed a dilapidated wooden shed in the grounds with the cheapest of possible beds. He instructed the blue haired Sim to take a nap. The Sim went, but eyed the bed with a big ‘no no’ gesture. Atobe ignored its whining.

“The anticipation for your naming choice is almost too much to bear,” he told Echizen dryly, as Karupin #8 stalked over to his Sim and suggested food. His Sim filled the nearest bowl with cat kibble and then whisked up a birthday cake. Mercifully, the production of such celebratory food appeared to be more automatic than the cooking fire experience. The Sim carried it to the baby in the bouncer who waved her arms in excitement.

Echizen considered his father’s version of charm. It didn’t take long to answer, “That guy has never been smooth on purpose. My mother was the charming one.”

But people never really talked about her, which was perhaps more skillful than Nanjirou’s massive reputation. While Atobe abused the maid and serenaded their child, Echizen created three adorable kittens. What more could a child want for their birthday than more namesakes?

“Is Oshitari-sensei that, for you?” he asked. “Otherwise, you must’ve been dropped as a child and had all the charm fall out your ear.”

“Is Oshitari exactly what for me?” Atobe repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I do hope you do not mean my mother. If you do, we are terminating this game so you can attend urgent counselling.” His Sim attempted to pass the cake to Echizen’s Sim, but the latter was busy petting Karupin 12 - 14. The cake was instead placed on a table and Atobe’s Sim took his daughter from the bouncer and threw her into the air. When she returned to his arms, the baby had become a toddler. Everyone clapped, even the abused blue hair Sim who had momentarily forgotten his ill treatment to join the celebrations.

Atobe’s Sim put the toddler on the floor. She promptly began to think about preschool. Atobe cancelled that thought and let his Sim help himself to cake.

While Echizen’s Sim happily gorged on cake and played with the digital conglomeration of babies (Atobe’s Sim counted) and cats, Echizen himself scowled. “Ew, no.”

Though he did hear that Mizuki had decent food. Maybe it was worth pretending to need a counselling session. “I just meant someone who makes things smoother for you.”

When Atobe’s Sim seemed quite distracted by the party, the digital Echizen discussed the logistics of preschool with Not Yukimura. It seemed that the best way to go was to team up with the maid against Atobe.

“Our interactions of late have focussed around Oshitari cancelling our …. engagements… to attend to vomiting individuals with no sense of self-restraint,” Atobe said dismissively. His Sim finished the cake and started to teach the toddler how to say ‘bottle’. One of the other Karupins sat down next to them and looked attentive. Over ambitious perhaps, but Atobe appreciated the willingness for work -- a trait sorely lacking in the household as a whole.

“I would hardly consider that ‘smoothing’ anything.”

“You would see doing one’s job as an interruption to your schedule,” Echizen snorted. When the maid stopped talking about preschool and mentioned the shed, his Sim suggested Atobe’s bed as an option.

“Lack of self-restraint and a mouthful of shit – I think that perfectly describes a bookie that first teaches his daughter the word bottle. Seriously?”

As Not Yukimura took over the Sim Atobe’s bed, Echizen led the Karupins to rescue his digital child, also Karpuin.

“I am a bar owner,” Atobe reminded him. “While I do not recommend the alcoholic variety of bottle for children as young as yourself or our daughter, recognition is key.” There was a disturbing amount wrong with that statement. Atobe ignored the implications.

His Sim relinquished control of their child to Echizen and a hoard of cats and went upstarts. Stomping ensured during which the maid Sim did not so much as stir. Atobe went back to the purchase screen and bought a bigger bed. He placed it beside his original, stolen, sleeping location and climbed in, thus preventing the other Sim from ever leaving. His way or the highway. It was that simple.

A car honked outside. Atobe’s shift was now at night. He ignored it on principal and went on sleeping.

“Ha ha,” Echizen said flatly. “No problem with weird formative memories as long as she knows the right brands.”

Yes, it was much better for the child to be playing with the cat toys that Echizen currently offered her. While she and the cats reached for the same feathers, he noticed Sim Atobe’s work car. “Ditching work once you get to middle management. Should I go and do your job better?”

“Seeing you leave the house at all, boy, would be a family event,” Atobe responded. The work car honked another time and then drove away. His Sim slept on until the sun rose in the electronic sky. The blue-haired Sim attempted to rise but found he was trapped and was forced to lie in bed waiting for Atobe’s Sim to start his day. It would take a while.

Outside, a school bus appeared. Atobe cancelled the thought bubble above his daughter’s head.

Just for that comment, Echizen definitely wouldn’t send his Sim to work. Instead, he put his character to sleep alongside his daughter. If not for the fast-forward function, Echizen would’ve had to spend a few hours flicking straw covers into Atobe’s hair while waiting for something to happen.

It only took three little straw covers for Atobe to cancel the school thought for the Sim daughter.

“What a cute dad, denying that your daughter should ever leave your side,” Echizen snorted, and had his Sim personally escort the girl to the bus. “I promise not to tell anyone if you cry.”

Atobe attempted to cancel all actions pertaining to the school bus but to no avail. The disgustingly common yellow transportation left the house lot, taking his daughter in its belly.

“The child will need to be quarantined before she can re-enter the house,” he told Echizen, throwing a look of disgust in his direction. “At that age, the only education that can be gained at school is how to spread disease.”

His Sim deigned to leave the bed, allowing the blue haired Sim to do the same. That Sim walked out of the room with a storm cloud above its head. Atobe’s Sim decided to take a long bubble bath and then wash three of the cats that were lurking nearby.

The school bus returned and Karupin-the-non-feline exited the bus and ran towards the house, only to find her progress blocked by Atobe removing the doors. He then added a side door and instructed the blue haired Sim to leave the house as well before deleting that final exit. Quarantine had begun.

While Atobe went about locking characters out of the house for his digital paranoia, Echizen grabbed himself a ponta and scratched Karupin on the head. It wasn’t worth stopping Atobe. After all, the bartender was the one who wanted to learn about the Sims.

“Can we just quarantine you instead? Sit on a raft in the pool or something,” he generously put a can next to Atobe as well.

“I fail to see why I should be inconvenienced by the recklessness of others,” Atobe responded. He picked up the can Echizen had placed beside him and scanned the list of ingredients. The look he gave the flight commander was withering. “This explains your scrawny stature.”

The blue-haired Sim walked to the front of the house and picked up the girl Karupin who had started to look frantic. He walked around the house and then stopped on the lawn. After a pause, the Sim walked off the lot, still carrying the girl. Atobe’s eyes narrowed. “What happens when you walk off-screen?” he inquired.

“Grape is good for me, mom,” Echizen rolled his eyes and took a swig of his own Ponta. “I suppose that while growing up you drank only the milk of goats from the Cothridian mountain ranges.”

Watching the scene from over Atobe’s shoulder, Echizen said, “Dunno. Look at command. Is it still an option to control them?”

“Nubian,” Atobe corrected absently, looking down at the panel at the bottom of the screen. Only his own Sim was visible and household members were now listed as “2”. His eyes narrowed as he flicked his gaze upwards to the point on the screen where the two Sims had disappeared. “He stole my daughter.”

Echizen blinked slowly, then smirked. “I didn’t think it was possible to lose at the Sims, Atobe-san. I’m a little awed by your prowess.”

He tossed his empty Ponta can in the recycling bin across the room. “Mada mada dane.”