Don't you just hate it when you find poses AFTER you've already played that part of the story? I just found poses that would have been great for Henry and Gloria! Grrr!
Don't you just hate it when you find poses AFTER you've already played that part of the story? I just found poses that would have been great for Henry and Gloria! Grrr!
Oh, all the time. Especially right after you post the chapter that those poses would have been amazing in. Save them anyway, maybe you'll be able to use them in a different scene instead!
Hosting D&D sessions on the side. Interested in playing through some fantasy-themed shenanigans? Send me a message 😘
Don't you just hate it when you find poses AFTER you've already played that part of the story? I just found poses that would have been great for Henry and Gloria! Grrr!
Oof, I was going to say maybe you could still edit it in, but given what's happened, that was already a few chapters back
Don't manhandle the urchin. He's not for sale. FIND YOUR OWN! - Xenon the Antiquarian, Dragon Age II
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
I had a plot break-through today and I'm not going to spoil anything, but it solves one of the dilemmas I'd been facing. I can't be more happy with it, I literally bubbled all day that I had a plot breakthrough! Like a lightbulb going off.
Also, I added the last two lines of the prophecy to my signature. I should have done it months ago, but *shrug*. Better late than never.
I'm working on the new chapter, taking screenies, and I gotta say there are a few already that I just love! I'm excited to share it with you, hopefully tomorrow!
“Can you take these trinkets off of me?” Gloria held out her hand. “They’re restricting my powers, I can’t do anything with them on.”
Romeo looked at the bracelet, turning her hand over in his to see how it was secured. “I wish I could, munchkin, but I was never here. No one can know I was here, else they find your mother and father as well. I’m only here because I need you to know that there’s someone on your side while you’re here. We’re trying to get you out, I promise, but if anyone knew I was here they’d start an investigation - one that we can’t risk,”
Gloria opened her mouth to protest, but Romeo held up his hand. “You are just as powerful as a person as you are a spellcaster. Believe me. And be safe, love. We’ll find a way to get you out of here.”
He put his helmet back on. “Good night, my lady,” he bowed, then walked out of her room, closing the door gently as he went.
Gloria plopped down on her bed, both exhilarated and exhausted. Her family was here for her. They hadn’t believed her story about going away with Blake. They hadn’t trusted Blake, and she was the innocent. This was all planned ahead of time, and she had played along like a doll, following blindly.
She laid down on her bed, knowing that she wasn’t going to sleep. It was late by now; how long had she been talking to Romeo? How was she going to act around Blake and the others? Was she immune to any punishment, or would they lock her up if she opposed them? She wasn’t in charge, she had no power to change anything. If they knew she knew, would they silence her?
Gloria felt a tightness in her chest, and tears started to grow in her eyes. What was she going to do? Why hadn’t anyone warned her of these things?
~*~
Blake sat outside the cell that held the boy, trying to discover what made him important. The boy acted more arrogant than a drunken sailor back from plundering distant shores. He didn’t talk much- more than Blake, but not much more. Blake assumed his cockyness was based in fear. Don’t let the enemy see that you’re scared; they’ll use it against you. So even while he had nothing, he still fought back. It was… pointless.
“Are you going to sit there and stare at me, or are you going to ask me questions?” the boy asked.
“What’s your name?” Blake asked. Start with the basics.
“Do you want the truth or a lie, liar?” he responded. Blake simply looked at him, unfazed. “My name is Harry Potter, and I come from under the stairs,” he said casually, looking at his nails.
“I’ve read that one, try again,” Blake said.
“Oh, he reads!” the boy sat up, looking back at him. “Did you miss the book that said not to gaslight your partner? Let me think about which book that would be…”
“I haven’t lied to Gloria. Not any further than was necessary to get her away from the people who would prevent her from fulfilling her destiny.”
“But don’t you find it interesting that she’s so different than what you expected her to be? She has red hair, which I’m sure we’ve all heard enough about, but she’s also a spellcaster. How ironic that your father led the crusade to remove all the spellcasters from the land, and his daughter is one? How long do you think she’ll let you sweep that under the rug? Gloria is certainly not someone who lets others trample on who she is.” The corner of his mouth raised, as if remembering something.
Blake stood from his stool, opening the door. “Why are you important?” he asked bluntly.
“That depends on who you ask,” the boy said, tracking Blake as he drew closer, the pulse in his neck throbbing as his heartbeat grew more rapid. He was sweating, and Blake could see that he was restraining himself from coiling into a defensive position. He was terrified, but refused to admit it.
“I want to lay out the facts that I know. You know who Gloria is, even though previously she didn’t know herself. You were with her on an island with minimal security, and she says that you were a friend of hers, but Gloria has never been away from the islands. She knows no one here, so how could you be her friend? You know things that only people with resources and connections could know, but how do you know…”
“I won’t tell you even if my life depended on it,” the boy said, serious for the first time since he had arrived at the palace dungeons.
“Oh, it will, but that’ll happen later.” He moved his gaze from the boy’s face. “A friend of Gloria’s… Unlocking your identity is all I need to find out what you know. Who are you?” he pondered.
The boy kept his mouth shut in a firm line, his jaw starting to quiver. Blake raised his eyebrow, “No answers? I’ll have to push further.”
(^This wasn't a pose, just a really great shot!)
He turned to the bowl of flames, extracting one of the metal utensils that had been residing there. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me your name?”
~*~
Gloria was served her breakfast in her sitting room. It was a light meal, full of flavor that she hadn’t had the past few weeks. Had it been two weeks since she had shared a dream with Seneca? She’d have to look at the moon to see what phase it was. Would she dream of the greenhouse if he wasn’t there? The pit in her stomach yawned and made her feel alone. Even surrounded by all of these people, they didn’t know her pain- her grief. Of losing someone whom you were born to know, tied for an unknown reason.
A knock came from the door, and Blake popped his head around the frame. “Is now a good time?” he asked, a smile on his face. He seemed to have many faces, this was just the one she got to see.
“Sure,” she said, trying to look natural. “What’s up?”
“I was just thinking, when you’re ready, we should talk about what happened during those two months we were separated,” he looked into her eyes, his blue eyes soft with understanding and love, just like they had been when she first met him, when she didn’t know anything.
She shook her head in bewilderment. “I- they were kind to me, Blake. And for them to be gone, to be dead, when I lived... I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk about it.”
Blake sat down beside her. Gloria knew what he wanted to know; but even though Seneca was gone, she didn’t feel it was right to tell him. Hopefully there would be a rebelion soon, and Gloria didn’t want to reveal it before it happened. She owed Seneca that much. And Henry. He’d get back to the island eventually to see it charred, and he’d tell the queen that she and Seneca were dead. Without Seneca, she had no power, no card to play. What would she do?
“But, how did you get there?” he asked.
“They brought me there. They rescued me from the river, saw that I was a spellcaster and knew I wouldn’t be safe on the mainland, so they brought me with them to the island where the Templars couldn’t find me.” Gloria said, twisting the truth. Best to play it as close to the truth as possible, that way she wouldn’t forget her lie.
“I see,” Blake said, his face was hard to read. “Did you tell them that you were trying to reach the capitol? Why didn’t they help you get to safety?”
Gloria swallowed, “They didn’t like either side of this conflict. The Templars would kill me if they saw me, and they didn’t like the crown, so they thought the best thing would be for me to just stay put until an opportunity became available. I’m sorry-” she broke off, sniffling. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now,”
Blake shifted away from her. “I understand. I’m sorry, love, I know it’s unpleasant.”
Before, he would have kissed her and held her, but now he simply stood up and walked to the door, turning when he got there. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he said. It looked like he wanted to say something else, but he resolved to just smile and close the door behind him.
Alone again, she thought.
~*~
“She’s lying to me,” Blake said in a huff as he entered the seer’s room. “Why would Gloria lie to me?”
“Maybe she knows you’ve lied to her,” the seer said as she sat at a table, a glowing ring floating above her. He knew not to ask questions at this point; he wouldn’t get a straight answer.
“But how does she know I’ve lied to her? Who told her?”
“She’s a clever girl. She could have figured it out on her own, you know.”
“She believes everything too easily. I have a hard time believing that she came up with it on her own. And that boy hasn’t so much as said his name, no matter what I do. Can you just tell me why he’s important, already? I’m growing impatient, and since I waited three years to win over the heir to come back to her rightful home I know a thing or two about patience.”
“Please, you relaxed in a tropical paradise for three years, loving a beautiful, trusting young woman. That’s hardly patience testing.” She took a deep breath, a knowing smirk on her face. “You’ve almost got him where you need him to be. Just a bit further and I’ll have the payment I need. Just you wait and see. Keep at it, and then all will be revealed.”
Blake crossed his arms. “You know I hate it when you speak in riddles,” he said, leaving the room. What did the boy have to do with her payment? She could have simply said that she wanted him as her payment, end of story. What was she playing at? It bothered him to no end that he had entangled himself so far into her web with no visible way to get out.
~*~
“I think a spring wedding would be nice,” the duchess said. “It’ll be new growth, and a wedding in the winter is always so cold. It can be hard to celebrate, being cooped up inside. Of course you’ll go to the church, but the party could be held outside. It’s been so long since I went to a wedding…” She looked into the distance, remembering past times.
“That does sound nice, but a wedding? Is that… I mean, I haven’t been asked.” Gloria said, trying to stay proper. Blake was absent from dinner tonight. He said he had some important business to take care of that couldn’t wait, but what was so important that he couldn’t break away for half an hour? It made her wonder: if she was to rule the kingdom, shouldn’t she know everything happening?
“But to Lucian, of course!” the king said joyfully. “You’re such a match, and you’re already getting along well, aren’t you?” he smiled, knowing the answer.
“Well, yes, but I’m not sure I want to settle… down… yet,” she trailed off as everyone looked at her as if she had three eyes.
“Do you think you’re going to meet someone better?” the duchess asked, raising her eyebrow, prepared to be insulted.
“No,” she lied, “but I’m not sure I’m ready to start a family just yet,”
“The throne needs another heir in line or it will be unprotected. We have you, but what if you become ill and die, or you have an accident, or you’re killed by an assassin? The more heirs to the throne, the better secured it is,” the king said, sympathetically. “No one thinks they’re ready for a family, but you’re ready. But first, your wedding!”
Gloria sat with her hands in her lap. Hopefully her parents would figure a way for her to get out before the spring came. She really didn’t want to marry Blake.
“Oh, and we can take you to the best dressmaker around! No one else will do. I’m so looking forward to this!” the duchess squealed.
I'm happy to be inspired to write again! It took a bit of work to get through the block, but I had a plot break through (as I said in a previous comment), and now I feel like I can keep writing!
Let me show you some pictures that didn't quite make the cut, but are good nonetheless:
^this one! I was so happy with this shot, but he conversation is between Seneca and Blake, not just Blake, so I went with the one where you can see Sen over his head, which works better. But Look at how menacing it looks! How he looks like a big cat, prowling towards it's prey.
^Illia has done some horticulture in her borrowed room, and I meant to show it, but the picture didn't match the one of the scene, so I didn't use it. Also, I had the lights flicker during Illia's séance! I hadn't had that happen yet (I've barely touched most of the packs from the last two years because I only really play for my story.)
“My name is Harry Potter, and I come from under the stairs.”
I almost spit out my tea at that 😂😂😂
Ooooh, right… There is a ticking time bomb on the “Seneca is dead” lie that Blake fed her. The second she dreams of that greenhouse at the same time as him, everything is going to come crashing down. Especially once Seneca tells her that Blake killed Henry. Man, that is going to be one heck of an explosion, isn’t it?
“She’s lying to me,” Blake said in a huff as he entered the seer’s room. “Why would Gloria lie to me?”
*Eye twitch* oooooooh, you mouldy potato. The hypocricy is strong in this one.
Hosting D&D sessions on the side. Interested in playing through some fantasy-themed shenanigans? Send me a message 😘
@_sims_Yimi , I loved your comment. You bring up a few good points: No one knows that Gloria has these dreams with the boy in the dungeon. I mean, maybe Illia knows, but no one else.
I'd be interested to know what you guys think will happen. I know what's going to happen, and I'll neither confirm or deny anything, but I like reading it anyway .
I liked the taco cat in the bloopers as well as Blake's smart mouth remark about being Harry Potter. That being said, maybe he can ask the jailer for a can of Red Balls...
Blake/Lucian is such a hypocrite. Of course she's going to lie to to him- he's lied to her for years and he really shouldn't expect any different, plus she has to protect herself and the rebellion to an extent. He doesn't deserve to even be talking to her. I truly hope that she can be rescued before the wedding. I'm interested to see what happens when Seneca and Gloria see each other in their dreams. Blake doesn't know what's coming to him once she finds out the truth lol. He's in for a big reality check- you can't just keep lying to the woman that you "love" and expect her to be okay with it or to never find out.
Another chapter full of suspense. Can't wait to read what happens next! Im glad you were able to get through your writer's block and find more inspiration also I love seeing the extra photos at the end.
_sims_Yimi , I loved your comment. You bring up a few good points: No one knows that Gloria has these dreams with the boy in the dungeon. I mean, maybe Illia knows, but no one else.
I'd be interested to know what you guys think will happen. I know what's going to happen, and I'll neither confirm or deny anything, but I like reading it anyway .
Honestly, I just get the feeling that
one of Anwyn's group will encounter grievous harm in the process of saving Gloria. Or maybe Midshore. It all feels so dangerous, and Blake has been their most cunning and potent adversary yet
Don't manhandle the urchin. He's not for sale. FIND YOUR OWN! - Xenon the Antiquarian, Dragon Age II
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
slap Blake across the face, preferably while wielding a large sword
So glad to see that my handsome boy is still such a fundamental part of the story!
Been enjoying reading about Gloria's journey so far (and I have to mention... I love the fact that the words of the prophecy come from Soldier, Poet, King! The Oh Hellos are one of my favourite bands and seeing those lyrics as part of the prophecy made me very happy )
@afai1261 That gave me the biggest smile! When I heard Soldier, Poet, King, I knew I wanted to use it somehow, and It fit like a glove as a prophecy in my story. I had to tweak a few things, but I think the spirt is still there. Music inspires so much in my stories.
Chapter 64 (I really want to make some sort of Nintendo 64 joke)
This is looking pointless… Midshore had been thinking for a while now. As awful as it had been, she was starting to see the appeal of a tracking charm. She hadn’t been on the Mainland for a very long time, and it was much larger than she remembered.
There were very few spellcasters left to find on the mainland, but she needed to find a reliable source of information. Someone who had taken a position of service to a noble. Only one spellcaster came to mind, and she wasn’t pleasant, but when Midshore had known her she hadn’t been the type to conform. Maybe she could enlighten her as to where Anwyn, Liam, Romeo, or Gloria were.
Focusing deep inside, she centered herself, focused on where she wanted to go, and took her best shot at teleportation.
~*~
Anywn rubbed her hands, trying to ignore how raw they felt. The cold was brutal to her hands; she had forgotten that they got horribly dry every year around this time. When she cooked she would try and put her hands above the bubbling liquid hoping to catch some moisture, but the relief was short-lived.
Liam looked over at her, hearing her dry hands rubbing themselves again. “Annie, what’s the matter?”
She worried at the inside of her lip. “It’s been three months. It’s three months since my monthlies. I’m starting to think it’s safe to say… I think we should expect another child.”
Liam deflated a fraction. “I understand. Then we need to move up our plans, whatever those are. Montoya hasn’t been clear. And we haven't heard any news on a rebellion. Queen Rosa sure is taking her sweet time.”
Romeo had told them everything that Gloria had told him about the rebellion, which wasn’t much to begin with.
“We can’t rely on that, we have no idea when they’re coming - if they’re coming. They could all have been hung or stopped by bad weather. Gloria needs to get out of there before she’s married off to that shark and before she’s stuck with a child from a man who doesn’t want the best for her,”
“Do you know what that witch of a cook gave the king all those years ago? The one to make him not have kids?” Liam asked.
“No, I wish I did. We could slip it to Gloria to give to Blake, but I don’t know what it was or how to make it. And I suspect it was enchanted as well.” She leaned back in her chair.
“We’ll find a way. There is always a way,” he said, trying to assure his wife. But he was also trying to assure himself as dread was starting to settle in his stomach.
~*~
Gloria looked at herself in the mirror. The longer she spent here, the more and more pieces of herself felt chipped away. Her nightgown was made out of fine materials- so fine that she couldn't’ see the threads of the fabric. That’s just the candle light, she thought.
She pulled back the sheets on her rose and cream themed bed, pausing. Everything in her set of rooms was red and white, fancy and clean. It wasn’t what she loved, and it lacked everything she missed. She wanted golden colors, bright aquamarines, dandelion yellows. Not white, silver, and red. So much red. She was the Rose of the Kingdom; the king even called her his rose.
She’d cut off her hair if it stopped him from calling her his rose.
A knock sounded on the door, and it opened without her beckoning. Blake walked carefully from around the corner, making sure to not look threatening. He wore night clothes, but they were nothing like what he had worn on the island. These were expensive clothes, fit for a prince, not the coarsely woven cotton and linen clothes they had worn on the islands as they slept.
“Gloria, hi,” he waved.
“Blake?” Gloria asked.
“I- I was wondering if you’d like my company tonight,” he said. His face didn’t reflect the nervousness that his voice did, and she didn’t know which she should believe.
“I...” No. She didn’t. A rift had formed between them inexplicably. She had been so happy to see him when she had awakened in Illia’s cabin, but she hadn’t remembered the lies that he had told her. She did now, and she was still angry. It hurt. Creator it hurt so much to love something so much, and to know that it’s bad for you. That it would twist you into something of its own design like a bonsai tree instead of watching you become a full, strong tree. “I don’t-”
“It’s been so long, Gloria,” he closed his eyes, biting back an argument. “I miss you,”
Gloria felt her inner gate of discipline breaking as if under siege. “I- I’d like your company, but I’m not in the mood for anything further.”
He went to the side of the bed he had always slept on, and she on hers. Without speaking, she settled in beside him.
“I missed you, Gloria,” he repeated. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
~*~
It hurt. Everything hurt. Burns had that effect; they kept hurting, no matter the position, even hours after they had been inflicted. He felt like every inch of him was bruised or burned. Seneca was so tired, but the injuries were preventing him from sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time. Was he going to die? He doubted that Blake was that bad of an interrogator to let his prisoner die without giving up information, probably on par with Barnabus if not better. He had ice in his soul, completely unsuited for the firey Gloria…
He had been so close to telling Blake what he wanted to hear. He had run out of fiction to reference, and he was almost worried that even if he told him the truth he wouldn't believe him anymore and he would never have peace.
There’s too much riding on him not knowing who I am. This is more than me, this is the whole movement. If I can’t dethrone him, my mother still needs the chance, he willed.
~*~
Illia smiled outside Gloria’s rooms. Blake loved Gloria. As well as he could, anyway. He had been raised to love her, so why would he think any differently? He was the king’s knight in a game of chess, and he did as he was told. This match had been made before Gloria had even been conceived. There would be no better pairing.
Well, not yet, anyway.
Illia may not have been able to read Gloria’s thoughts, but she could tell when she fell asleep. Gloria had such a vibrant mind during the day that it was a sharp contrast when her mind slipped away.
She let herself in the door, closing it behind her soundlessly. Blake raised his head, listening, thinking he heard something, then quickly turning to face her. His eyes flashed angrily, and he dislodged himself from Gloria. She had never been a cuddler before, when had she picked that up?
“What are you doing here?” he hissed, keeping his voice low. He knew that Gloria slept heavily, but he didn’t want to risk anything.
“‘I miss you,’” she taunted, tilting her shoulders in a suggestive way. “Relax, darling, I’m here because I’ve come to claim my price,”
Blake went a shade paler than he already was. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to find in here, but I guarantee you-”
She held up two strands of his hair, and swirled them around with a sparking flourish. “You will stop interrogating the boy,” she said, looking him in the eye.
“I- no.” He fought with himself to resist her. “I need him- he’s important- the king expects-”
“You will stop interrogating the boy,” she said stronger, leaning in, forcing her will on him.
Blake’s mouth couldn't open for him to object, and the only word that he could form was “Agreed.” It pushed its way out of his mouth without him wanting to, his eyes blazing.
“Crazy what a bit of hair can do, isn’t it?” she said, as she tossed those hairs on the floor. “How many did you give me? And I did that with just two?” She swiveled her hips around, walked to the door, and gave a mocking wave as she left the room.
~*~
It was a nice stroll down to the dungeon, just long enough to stretch the legs and get a good rhythm going for long enough to be satisfying. As attractive as her heels normally were, Illia had opted for some cushioned slippers for the occasion. They let her move more quietly across the hard floors of the palace without waking anyone.
She saw Montoya leaning against one of the door frames, his eyes tracking her down the hallway. He watched often, but rarely said anything. He was a man of few words, and he kept his thoughts close. How he had trained to be so secretive and yet so trusted by the king was a mystery, one she’d love to learn some day, but that wasn’t her mission tonight. She had an appointment to make before the next full moon, and since that was tomorrow night she really did have to get it done tonight.
“Going somewhere?” he asked as she passed.
“Always,” she purred, not stopping.
“It’s locked,” he said bluntly.
Of course it would be locked. Blake didn’t want Gloria stumbling in on Seneca. Blake thought that he had all the cards and could control every angle, but Illia knew differently for she controlled everyone’s hands. “You think a lock has ever stopped me?” she asked over her shoulder.
With a flick of her wrist she unlocked the door and opened it. The stairs going down were dark, and the air smelled of smoke and sweat. It was disgusting. With a snap of her fingers the air was clean and the torches lit. She breathed deeply and descended.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” she observed as she stepped through the door to his private cell. The discarded prince sat in a heap on the floor, going in and out of consciousness. Thankfully Illia didn’t have much empathy; she’d hate to be in his position if the tables were turned. Dirty, in pain, unable to rest, on the verge of paranoia. It wasn’t a fitting look for a king.
She opened the cell door and strode over to him, sauntering. He probably wouldn’t have enough of a mind to appreciate her sauntering, but she enjoyed doing it anyway.
“I- I won’t tell you- anything-” he said with rolling eyes and heavy breaths. “Though- the air is a nice- a nice touch,”
“My prince, I know everything about you already, remember?” she crouched down next to him, speaking in soft, sincere tones. “But I can help you now. I couldn’t before, but things have changed for the better and I can help you be free. But I need something from you,”
His head rolled to meet her gaze. “You’re a dirty witch, you know that, right?” he said as he winced.
“I’m a witch who can get you out of here alive in one piece to see your mother again,” she offered. “I’m the witch who can help the rebellion win. No one else can help you. Take the help, boy.”
His eyelids wavered, and she took his face in her hands, steadying him. “Let me help you,” she focused, trying to persuade him.
He took a few breaths, and she could feel his pulse in his jawline. “What did you need from me?” he asked.
“I need a bit of your hair,” she said as if it were the smallest request in the world. “Just a lock of your hair and all of this will be over,”
He shrunk away from her. “My hair? I know what people like you can do with a person’s-” he inhaled sharply, “-hair.”
“I want what’s best for you, Seneca, believe me. This will all be over. All the pain, the loneliness. You’ll see Gloria again. All of this, I swear,”
He looked at her, tears in his eyes. Had they been here all this time, or had they just started to form?
“I don’t have anything to cut my hair with,” he said.
She summoned a knife from the table, making it float in front of his face. “Here you are,”
He took the knife, wincing as he moved his arms, and quickly cut off a lock of hair and hesitantly handed it to her.
“Thank you, my prince.”
AHHH! We're getting closer! Have your predictions changed? Next chapter will bit a big one, lots will be revealed! Gosh I'm so excited!
Bloopers!
I didn't really have many this time around, I had a hard time making all of my poses working right. You move one thing and the whole ensemble decides to reset! ugh!
Also, I have some bad news. My grandma is in poor health and I suspect that I may be grieving her soon. This story brings me joy, but I can't be certain that chapters will come out regularly in the coming weeks. I appreciate that you want to say 'I'm sorry for your situation,' but we can move past that on here. This isn't my platform for grieving, it's where I like to post fun things. I'm only bringing it up so that if there's a break in posts, that's why. I hope to let you know if there will be a break at the time it is needed.
I wonder if Ilia is actually sympathetic to Seneca's cause, or if she just wanted him to be her puppet. Or maybe with Seneca, she'd have more free reign. I think ultimately she'll be the bigger threat here
Anwyn having another child really complicates things. Years of not being pregnant, and suddenly it happens when they're on a dangerous mission. What are the odds?
Do Montoya and Ilia happen to know each other? Or did she use her mind tricks on him? I wonder what would happen if Ilia learned from him that Gloria's parents are here
Don't manhandle the urchin. He's not for sale. FIND YOUR OWN! - Xenon the Antiquarian, Dragon Age II
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Update!
The next chapter has been edited, so I just have to comb through it again and then I'll be able to take screenies. So I'm hoping in the next few days we'll get the next chapter posted!
Midshore knocked on the door of the mansion, hoping her disguise wouldn’t draw attention to herself. She didn’t want to stay long, just long enough to learn what she needed to know, and then get on her way.
The door opened and a maid stood there, dressed plainly. Not even a butler? wondered Midshore.
“Hello?” the maid asked. “How can I help you?”
“Hello, I was looking for someone. The cook? Is she in?” Midshore inquired. Was this the right house?
“Uh, yeah,” she answered, not moving to let her in.
“Can I see her?” Midshore asked.
“Uh… I think so.” She left the door and Midshore walked in on her own. The place was certainly run down, with candles low and cobwebbed corners. The air was musty, and the walls had water markings and mold starting to grow. Not much of a home for a lord.
“She’s this way,” the girl trailed off, leading Midshore through some rooms.
Muffled noises were heard on the other side of the door. “I swear, I’m the only thing that works right around here anymore!” came an old woman’s voice. “Now the chimney won’t even work!”
The maid trailed off in an unhurried manner, wandering around as if she were a ghost. Midshore raised an eyebrow, then opened the heavy door to the kitchen.
In here, it was clear that an attempt was being made to keep things clean, but it wasn’t quite attainable.
The old woman looked up from her work. She was older than Midshore remembered, but as with many spellcasters, she hadn’t visibly aged much. “Mirri, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you today,”
Midshore smiled. “I don’t go by Mirri any more, ma’am. My name is Midshore now.”
The old woman also smiled, going to the stove. “So you took up a new name on the islands, just like so many others. I rather wish I’d gone myself, now. If I had gone, I wouldn’t be frustrated that I’m the only one here who knows how to keep things clean!” She lit a fire under a pot on the stove. “I’ll start some tea, I’m sure there’s a lot to catch up on.”
Midshore had been here once as a girl, she remembered. It had been a beautiful place, with scrubbed walls and floors, clean windows, and fine furniture. It was very different from what it was now. The windows to the small courtyard were clean, but all of the others were covered in a film of rain spots and dust.
The water on the stove started to boil, and the cook went to grab the pot, but Midshore grabbed it instead. “I can get that,”
“Don’t be too nice to me, Mirri, I won’t let you leave,” she chuckled. “Come with me, we’ll go to the sitting room.”
They went to the next room over, setting the tray on a table. With a creak, the cook sat down in a comfortable chair, and motioned for Midshore to do the same.
“Won’t the lord be cross that we’re here?” Midshore asked, hesitant.
“Unlike us, the lord of the house has aged… disagreeably. He spends most of his time in bed, and rarely does he come down the stairs. We won’t have to worry about him, and as no one else lives here, we don’t have to worry about anyone else either.” She took a sip of her tea. “So, deary, tell me why you’re here.”
Midshore talked for what felt like hours about how she had come to meet Anwyn, Liam, and Romeo and how Gloria was the pin that held all of the king’s plans together and the danger she was in.
“I knew you and Enya would fall in love.” She smiled wistfully as Midshore finished her story, “You and Romeo weren’t a good match for each other.”
“Enya goes by Everstar now, as I said several times.” Midshore corrected.
“Well, you can humor an old woman for a few hours, can’t you?” she asked with a sigh. “Now I have a few things to tell you. Firstly, is that there are powers at the palace that even out perform yours. Illia has taken up residence there as a thorn in the Duchess's son’s side. I don't know that you could challenge her and win. Her powers focus on the mind and controlling it, and she’s gotten very good at her craft. And don’t look at me, I’ll not be going with you to help fight her. I’m an old woman, spellcaster or no. Sure, I’m spry for my age, but I’m not fighting Illia. That’s a death sentence.”
“I’ll worry about that when I need to. Hopefully I’ll be able to teleport them out of there and to a safe place until I can get them back to the Islands. Illia has never been there, so I doubt she’ll be able to find her way, even with her tracking charms.”
“Oh, so you felt that too? It made my cooking taste horrid for a week.”
“Ma’am, I need to find them. You understand why I need to get them all home to their families, but I don’t know the way. Can you help me, just to find them?”
The cook gave her a side eyed glance. “You know, we got into all of this mess because I helped in the first place. I helped that poor girl not have the king’s child. Imagine all the heartache we wouldn’t have had to go through if I had kept that charm to myself. You’d still be at home with your wife and children, Romeo would have settled down eventually and been happy, and we wouldn’t be in this civil war that’s torn the world in two.”
“But think of all the good you’ve caused with your charm. Anwyn and Liam are happy, with four children. Romeo met a brave and fierce wife and has two sons of his own. The tyrannical king is nearly able to be dethroned and his reign will come to an end if we can break Gloria out of their grasp.”
“And have you thought about what will happen if you dethrone him? Who will rule? He’s an only child of an only child, the new ruler would be a distant relation at best.”
“Perhaps that’s a good thing,” Midshore countered. “The kingdom needs a new look on things, a new hand to guide things.” She knotted her brow. “I don’t suppose you know who the new ruler in line would be?”
The cook leaned back in her chair, smiling knowingly. “I sure do.”
~*~
Whenever Gloria had a hard day, even long before she had met Blake on the Islands, she would just want to lie in bed and try to make the day go away. Of course she’d had huge windows in her room and a glass ceiling so it was impossible to forget what time of day it was. None of that hindered her from depressively laying in bed and wanting to let sleep erase her feelings.
But what happened when the thing you were most bothered by was sleep?
It was a full moon tonight. Even with her restraints on she could feel her power bubbling, building with the full moon. It would subside when it wasn’t used, but it lent to her feeling pent up. She wanted to move, but grief sat on her like a blanket of bricks, impossible to escape from.
The weight came and went in severity, but it was always heavy. With no chores or assignments to do, she had nothing prodding her mind away from the pain.
She’d heard nothing of a plan to get her out of here, or anything about her parents. Could she go to see them? Could she hold them again? If this all went horribly would she never see them again? Oh Creator, what if she never saw her parents again?
~*~
“I can’t believe how well this is working out.” Illia paced her room, watching the hours go by. “You see, I have them all in the palm of my hand. Everything is just how I need it to be.” She looked at the cat. “But how do you have everything you need, Illia? Good question!”
She sat down on her sofa, hardly able to keep from moving. “I’ve commanded Blake to stop his interrogation, and I’ve received some of Seneca’s hair. I have the two most powerful men under my thumb! Oh, the king may think he’s powerful, but we all know he lost his edge when he no longer controlled the whole kingdom. He's been slipping for years. No, Blake thinks that he can control Gloria, and that she’ll be the queen not too long from now. And with her powers bottled up, who can stop him, right?”
She crossed her legs. “Me! I can stop him! I can take control of this kingdom the way I’ve been trying to for generations, but Blake was finally stupid enough to fall into the trap! Well, I can give him some credit, he didn’t know that his heir was in the same place as the true heir. Nor does he know who he has in his dungeon. The heir to the throne, under his very nose,” she purred. “And he has no idea, but I do.”
She looked back at the cat. “I’ve been trying to become the most powerful woman this world has ever seen, perfecting my craft so that I could one day pull the right strings to make the right connections.” She ran her hand through her hair. “And I once again have just the right way to do it. I’m going to marry the true heir, then watch them all burn as I rise to claim the power I’ve desired for so long. And no one can stop me. They will worship me like a god, or so help them.”
~*~
Gloria’s arms felt heavy as she pulled back the covers. “It’s not going to be any different than it already has been,” she said to herself. “I- I already don’t have him around, he’s already gone, put to rest. I’ll be alone, and that’ll be alright.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “I’ll be alone.”
Blake had wanted to share her company tonight just as he had the last, but she had turned him down.
“You seem so sad today, can I help you? I don’t want you to be alone,” he had tried to embrace her.
“No-” she distanced herself from him. “I… really need to be alone tonight. I have to grieve on my own. I should be better tomorrow; this feeling comes and goes.” She tried to smile as she turned away from him. He wanted to be close to her, to pull her into a delusion, and over the past two weeks it had been hard to remember what was the lie. Everyone acted as if it were a given that she was the heir, and they treated her like it, too. The king treated her like his daughter, Blake’s mother acted like she was going to be her daughter in law. Blake acted like she was going to marry him, and all of the staff acted like she was a holy relic. The whole thing at first had made her feel like a china doll, and she felt her sense of reality slipping somewhat. How long could she deny Blake before he looked further into why?
Even with all of those things weighing down on her mind, they were all dwarfed in comparison to the idea that Seneca was dead. Had she caused the fire? Illia said that she probably didn’t have control of her powers. What if it had been an accident? Months ago she had sparked the fire and alerted the templars, so who’s to say that she hadn’t started the fire that killed him?
She was going to be alone, what if it was her fault?
“Nothing can change the past. I have to face this, and know that I will live beyond it.”
She closed her eyes as she sank into the overly-soft mattress, and waited for sleep to come.
It didn’t take long before she was faced with the swirling sky. The smell of fresh flowers and running water made her smile. The water bubbled along in the small stream, clear as new glass. It would feel wonderful through her toes, she thought, and she went to take off her shoes.
When she looked up, she saw- something that shouldn’t- couldn’t be there, as much as she had prayed he would be. He was dead, she hadn’t felt him anymore. She hadn’t felt anything since the equipment had gone on again. But he- he was dead.
Seneca stood staring at her, mouth slightly agape.
***
You love her, the woman had said. It was true. Nothing in his life of schemes and plans had been truer. He loved the one woman in the world who would pull the thread to bring it all tumbling down, but he didn’t care. He had tried not to, he had fallen anyway, head over heels. She had been one of the only people who had seen him for him, and not as the piece of his mother’s plans.
“Gloria,” he breathed.
***
“You’re dead,” she said, shaking her head as she approached. “You’re dead! I grieved for you! How are you- what’re you-” she didn’t know which question to ask first, walking towards him. Was he a ghost? A shadow? Would she go through him like air if she got close enough to touch him?
“You’re dead!” she said, walking as if she were set on a collision course for him. He just looked at her with tears in his eyes, as if she were the only constellation in the sky. “Why don’t you say anything?!” she pointed at him, placing one hand on his chest.
He blinked, and took hold of one of her wrists. She took a sharp breath, surprised and miles beyond relieved that she could feel a solid form as he took hold of her other wrist, pulling her in and kissing her.
Her heart swelled as she kissed him. This is what she had been missing, what she had wanted to do on the island towards the end, when they
had been happy. They wrapped each other in their arms, holding tight.
“Seneca, are you… are you dead?” Gloria asked after she had held him long enough to believe he was real. “Blake said there was a fire, and I hardly made it out alive, and that I was the only one who survived. But I don’t remember any of it…”
He held her for a while more, not wanting to break the seal of joy he hadn’t felt in weeks.
Gloria felt his chest rise and fall. “Blake is a murderer.” he said gruffly. “He killed Henry, and when we tried to stop him the woman cast a spell on you to make you unconscious, and they took me prisoner.” He sniffed. “I’m alive, Gloria. I’m alive. I’m in the dungeon, and Blake has been trying to find out what I know.”
“He… He killed Henry? But I thought that maybe if Henry came back to see us gone on the island he would alert your mother, and the rebellion would come and storm the palace sooner. If Henry’s gone, they don’t know that we’re not there.”
“That may not matter. We want them to be strong, not wondering if their plans will work.” His stubbled chin tickled her neck as he adjusted his position. “Gloria, I love you. If I never see you again, or I have to wait fifty years until we see each other again, I want you to know that I love you.” He was crying now, and Gloria could feel his breath starting to shake. “But I need you to run. I need you to get as far away from Blake and the king and the seer as fast as you can. I don’t think I’m going to make it, and I need to know that you made it out of here alive and that you can still be happy. Run all the way back to the Islands. You’ll be safe there.”
Gloria pulled away to look at his face. “You think I’m going to let you die here? In pain? I couldn't leave you! I thought you were dead already, I’m not going to let you die when I could save you!”
“Don’t be stupid! If you try to save me, you’ll be caught! If they know that you know I’m alive, you'll be under surveillance for years, twisted to the king’s will! This is the only way you get to live and be free. Just run.”
“Seneca,” she bit her lip, unable to meet his urgent gaze. “I.. love you.” She hadn’t said it to Blake, ever. He had wanted her to, to promise that she loved him and would spend her life with him. But she hadn’t, and now she knew that place in her life had always been reserved for Seneca, no matter how Blake had tried to fit the hole.
“I know,” he said, as he pulled her closer. He was starting to blur at the edges, a sign that he was going to wake up. “I know.”
AHHHH! Is this what I've been wanting this whole story to build up to?
Yes.
And as always, I write to music, and this is no exception. I'll let you guys in on a sneak peak of my playlist for this generation:
^It was snowing and it looked so pretty, I had to take a picture. Snow looks prettier when it's moving though.
^I didn't go with this picture because of the spoiled tea on the side, and I felt a closer picture was better.
^I don't play with pets very often. Do love beams frequently come out of their eyes? Taco, are you ok? Taking heart eyes to a new level...
^Taco
^I accidently took these when she was in her night gown instead of her everyday dress. So they're bloopers now!
^ I saw this, and I loved it. The close-but-far feeling is strong.
^Ended up not wanting a picture of Seneca smiling.
^ These are beautiful pictures, but I kinda felt like they clogged up the roll too much, and it's supposed to be a happy moment, these both look sad. Which kinda fits, but not quite.
Next is all the lovely pictures that didn't make it into the story, but I was trying out anyway:
Thankyou everyone for reading, and if you had any thoughts or reactions while reading, please post them! I absolutely love getting comments.
Comments
This is my favorite face of this chapter, and the next one is when Gloria was being sassy
I hope Romeo takes her suppressants off
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Oh, all the time. Especially right after you post the chapter that those poses would have been amazing in. Save them anyway, maybe you'll be able to use them in a different scene instead!
Oof, I was going to say maybe you could still edit it in, but given what's happened, that was already a few chapters back
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Also, I added the last two lines of the prophecy to my signature. I should have done it months ago, but *shrug*. Better late than never.
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Chapter 63
“Can you take these trinkets off of me?” Gloria held out her hand. “They’re restricting my powers, I can’t do anything with them on.”
Romeo looked at the bracelet, turning her hand over in his to see how it was secured. “I wish I could, munchkin, but I was never here. No one can know I was here, else they find your mother and father as well. I’m only here because I need you to know that there’s someone on your side while you’re here. We’re trying to get you out, I promise, but if anyone knew I was here they’d start an investigation - one that we can’t risk,”
Gloria opened her mouth to protest, but Romeo held up his hand. “You are just as powerful as a person as you are a spellcaster. Believe me. And be safe, love. We’ll find a way to get you out of here.”
He put his helmet back on. “Good night, my lady,” he bowed, then walked out of her room, closing the door gently as he went.
Gloria plopped down on her bed, both exhilarated and exhausted. Her family was here for her. They hadn’t believed her story about going away with Blake. They hadn’t trusted Blake, and she was the innocent. This was all planned ahead of time, and she had played along like a doll, following blindly.
She laid down on her bed, knowing that she wasn’t going to sleep. It was late by now; how long had she been talking to Romeo? How was she going to act around Blake and the others? Was she immune to any punishment, or would they lock her up if she opposed them? She wasn’t in charge, she had no power to change anything. If they knew she knew, would they silence her?
Gloria felt a tightness in her chest, and tears started to grow in her eyes. What was she going to do? Why hadn’t anyone warned her of these things?
~*~
Blake sat outside the cell that held the boy, trying to discover what made him important. The boy acted more arrogant than a drunken sailor back from plundering distant shores. He didn’t talk much- more than Blake, but not much more. Blake assumed his cockyness was based in fear. Don’t let the enemy see that you’re scared; they’ll use it against you. So even while he had nothing, he still fought back. It was… pointless.
“Are you going to sit there and stare at me, or are you going to ask me questions?” the boy asked.
“What’s your name?” Blake asked. Start with the basics.
“Do you want the truth or a lie, liar?” he responded. Blake simply looked at him, unfazed. “My name is Harry Potter, and I come from under the stairs,” he said casually, looking at his nails.
“I’ve read that one, try again,” Blake said.
“Oh, he reads!” the boy sat up, looking back at him. “Did you miss the book that said not to gaslight your partner? Let me think about which book that would be…”
“I haven’t lied to Gloria. Not any further than was necessary to get her away from the people who would prevent her from fulfilling her destiny.”
“But don’t you find it interesting that she’s so different than what you expected her to be? She has red hair, which I’m sure we’ve all heard enough about, but she’s also a spellcaster. How ironic that your father led the crusade to remove all the spellcasters from the land, and his daughter is one? How long do you think she’ll let you sweep that under the rug? Gloria is certainly not someone who lets others trample on who she is.” The corner of his mouth raised, as if remembering something.
Blake stood from his stool, opening the door. “Why are you important?” he asked bluntly.
“That depends on who you ask,” the boy said, tracking Blake as he drew closer, the pulse in his neck throbbing as his heartbeat grew more rapid. He was sweating, and Blake could see that he was restraining himself from coiling into a defensive position. He was terrified, but refused to admit it.
“I want to lay out the facts that I know. You know who Gloria is, even though previously she didn’t know herself. You were with her on an island with minimal security, and she says that you were a friend of hers, but Gloria has never been away from the islands. She knows no one here, so how could you be her friend? You know things that only people with resources and connections could know, but how do you know…”
“I won’t tell you even if my life depended on it,” the boy said, serious for the first time since he had arrived at the palace dungeons.
“Oh, it will, but that’ll happen later.” He moved his gaze from the boy’s face. “A friend of Gloria’s… Unlocking your identity is all I need to find out what you know. Who are you?” he pondered.
The boy kept his mouth shut in a firm line, his jaw starting to quiver. Blake raised his eyebrow, “No answers? I’ll have to push further.”
(^This wasn't a pose, just a really great shot!)
He turned to the bowl of flames, extracting one of the metal utensils that had been residing there. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me your name?”
~*~
Gloria was served her breakfast in her sitting room. It was a light meal, full of flavor that she hadn’t had the past few weeks. Had it been two weeks since she had shared a dream with Seneca? She’d have to look at the moon to see what phase it was. Would she dream of the greenhouse if he wasn’t there? The pit in her stomach yawned and made her feel alone. Even surrounded by all of these people, they didn’t know her pain- her grief. Of losing someone whom you were born to know, tied for an unknown reason.
A knock came from the door, and Blake popped his head around the frame. “Is now a good time?” he asked, a smile on his face. He seemed to have many faces, this was just the one she got to see.
“Sure,” she said, trying to look natural. “What’s up?”
“I was just thinking, when you’re ready, we should talk about what happened during those two months we were separated,” he looked into her eyes, his blue eyes soft with understanding and love, just like they had been when she first met him, when she didn’t know anything.
She shook her head in bewilderment. “I- they were kind to me, Blake. And for them to be gone, to be dead, when I lived... I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk about it.”
Blake sat down beside her. Gloria knew what he wanted to know; but even though Seneca was gone, she didn’t feel it was right to tell him. Hopefully there would be a rebelion soon, and Gloria didn’t want to reveal it before it happened. She owed Seneca that much. And Henry. He’d get back to the island eventually to see it charred, and he’d tell the queen that she and Seneca were dead. Without Seneca, she had no power, no card to play. What would she do?
“But, how did you get there?” he asked.
“They brought me there. They rescued me from the river, saw that I was a spellcaster and knew I wouldn’t be safe on the mainland, so they brought me with them to the island where the Templars couldn’t find me.” Gloria said, twisting the truth. Best to play it as close to the truth as possible, that way she wouldn’t forget her lie.
“I see,” Blake said, his face was hard to read. “Did you tell them that you were trying to reach the capitol? Why didn’t they help you get to safety?”
Gloria swallowed, “They didn’t like either side of this conflict. The Templars would kill me if they saw me, and they didn’t like the crown, so they thought the best thing would be for me to just stay put until an opportunity became available. I’m sorry-” she broke off, sniffling. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now,”
Blake shifted away from her. “I understand. I’m sorry, love, I know it’s unpleasant.”
Before, he would have kissed her and held her, but now he simply stood up and walked to the door, turning when he got there. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he said. It looked like he wanted to say something else, but he resolved to just smile and close the door behind him.
Alone again, she thought.
~*~
“She’s lying to me,” Blake said in a huff as he entered the seer’s room. “Why would Gloria lie to me?”
“Maybe she knows you’ve lied to her,” the seer said as she sat at a table, a glowing ring floating above her. He knew not to ask questions at this point; he wouldn’t get a straight answer.
“But how does she know I’ve lied to her? Who told her?”
“She’s a clever girl. She could have figured it out on her own, you know.”
“She believes everything too easily. I have a hard time believing that she came up with it on her own. And that boy hasn’t so much as said his name, no matter what I do. Can you just tell me why he’s important, already? I’m growing impatient, and since I waited three years to win over the heir to come back to her rightful home I know a thing or two about patience.”
“Please, you relaxed in a tropical paradise for three years, loving a beautiful, trusting young woman. That’s hardly patience testing.” She took a deep breath, a knowing smirk on her face. “You’ve almost got him where you need him to be. Just a bit further and I’ll have the payment I need. Just you wait and see. Keep at it, and then all will be revealed.”
Blake crossed his arms. “You know I hate it when you speak in riddles,” he said, leaving the room. What did the boy have to do with her payment? She could have simply said that she wanted him as her payment, end of story. What was she playing at? It bothered him to no end that he had entangled himself so far into her web with no visible way to get out.
~*~
“I think a spring wedding would be nice,” the duchess said. “It’ll be new growth, and a wedding in the winter is always so cold. It can be hard to celebrate, being cooped up inside. Of course you’ll go to the church, but the party could be held outside. It’s been so long since I went to a wedding…” She looked into the distance, remembering past times.
“That does sound nice, but a wedding? Is that… I mean, I haven’t been asked.” Gloria said, trying to stay proper. Blake was absent from dinner tonight. He said he had some important business to take care of that couldn’t wait, but what was so important that he couldn’t break away for half an hour? It made her wonder: if she was to rule the kingdom, shouldn’t she know everything happening?
“But to Lucian, of course!” the king said joyfully. “You’re such a match, and you’re already getting along well, aren’t you?” he smiled, knowing the answer.
“Well, yes, but I’m not sure I want to settle… down… yet,” she trailed off as everyone looked at her as if she had three eyes.
“Do you think you’re going to meet someone better?” the duchess asked, raising her eyebrow, prepared to be insulted.
“No,” she lied, “but I’m not sure I’m ready to start a family just yet,”
“The throne needs another heir in line or it will be unprotected. We have you, but what if you become ill and die, or you have an accident, or you’re killed by an assassin? The more heirs to the throne, the better secured it is,” the king said, sympathetically. “No one thinks they’re ready for a family, but you’re ready. But first, your wedding!”
Gloria sat with her hands in her lap. Hopefully her parents would figure a way for her to get out before the spring came. She really didn’t want to marry Blake.
“Oh, and we can take you to the best dressmaker around! No one else will do. I’m so looking forward to this!” the duchess squealed.
I'm happy to be inspired to write again! It took a bit of work to get through the block, but I had a plot break through (as I said in a previous comment), and now I feel like I can keep writing!
Let me show you some pictures that didn't quite make the cut, but are good nonetheless:
^this one! I was so happy with this shot, but he conversation is between Seneca and Blake, not just Blake, so I went with the one where you can see Sen over his head, which works better. But Look at how menacing it looks! How he looks like a big cat, prowling towards it's prey.
^Illia has done some horticulture in her borrowed room, and I meant to show it, but the picture didn't match the one of the scene, so I didn't use it. Also, I had the lights flicker during Illia's séance! I hadn't had that happen yet (I've barely touched most of the packs from the last two years because I only really play for my story.)
^Not quite Tuesday, but we can still love Taco!
^I don't think this one needs explanation
I'm still curious to know what the seer wants. Does it have to do with Midshore somehow? Ilia did say she hasn't heard of her before, so maybe not
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Oh, we're going to find out what Illia wants *steeples fingers like a villain*. We're going to find out very soon... *Cackles like a witch*
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Ooooh, right… There is a ticking time bomb on the “Seneca is dead” lie that Blake fed her. The second she dreams of that greenhouse at the same time as him, everything is going to come crashing down. Especially once Seneca tells her that Blake killed Henry. Man, that is going to be one heck of an explosion, isn’t it?
*Eye twitch* oooooooh, you mouldy potato. The hypocricy is strong in this one.
I'd be interested to know what you guys think will happen. I know what's going to happen, and I'll neither confirm or deny anything, but I like reading it anyway
Another chapter full of suspense. Can't wait to read what happens next! Im glad you were able to get through your writer's block and find more inspiration
Honestly, I just get the feeling that
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Been enjoying reading about Gloria's journey so far (and I have to mention... I love the fact that the words of the prophecy come from Soldier, Poet, King! The Oh Hellos are one of my favourite bands and seeing those lyrics as part of the prophecy made me very happy
Chapter 64 (I really want to make some sort of Nintendo 64 joke)
This is looking pointless… Midshore had been thinking for a while now. As awful as it had been, she was starting to see the appeal of a tracking charm. She hadn’t been on the Mainland for a very long time, and it was much larger than she remembered.
There were very few spellcasters left to find on the mainland, but she needed to find a reliable source of information. Someone who had taken a position of service to a noble. Only one spellcaster came to mind, and she wasn’t pleasant, but when Midshore had known her she hadn’t been the type to conform. Maybe she could enlighten her as to where Anwyn, Liam, Romeo, or Gloria were.
Focusing deep inside, she centered herself, focused on where she wanted to go, and took her best shot at teleportation.
~*~
Anywn rubbed her hands, trying to ignore how raw they felt. The cold was brutal to her hands; she had forgotten that they got horribly dry every year around this time. When she cooked she would try and put her hands above the bubbling liquid hoping to catch some moisture, but the relief was short-lived.
Liam looked over at her, hearing her dry hands rubbing themselves again. “Annie, what’s the matter?”
She worried at the inside of her lip. “It’s been three months. It’s three months since my monthlies. I’m starting to think it’s safe to say… I think we should expect another child.”
Liam deflated a fraction. “I understand. Then we need to move up our plans, whatever those are. Montoya hasn’t been clear. And we haven't heard any news on a rebellion. Queen Rosa sure is taking her sweet time.”
Romeo had told them everything that Gloria had told him about the rebellion, which wasn’t much to begin with.
“We can’t rely on that, we have no idea when they’re coming - if they’re coming. They could all have been hung or stopped by bad weather. Gloria needs to get out of there before she’s married off to that shark and before she’s stuck with a child from a man who doesn’t want the best for her,”
“Do you know what that witch of a cook gave the king all those years ago? The one to make him not have kids?” Liam asked.
“No, I wish I did. We could slip it to Gloria to give to Blake, but I don’t know what it was or how to make it. And I suspect it was enchanted as well.” She leaned back in her chair.
“We’ll find a way. There is always a way,” he said, trying to assure his wife. But he was also trying to assure himself as dread was starting to settle in his stomach.
~*~
Gloria looked at herself in the mirror. The longer she spent here, the more and more pieces of herself felt chipped away. Her nightgown was made out of fine materials- so fine that she couldn't’ see the threads of the fabric. That’s just the candle light, she thought.
She pulled back the sheets on her rose and cream themed bed, pausing. Everything in her set of rooms was red and white, fancy and clean. It wasn’t what she loved, and it lacked everything she missed. She wanted golden colors, bright aquamarines, dandelion yellows. Not white, silver, and red. So much red. She was the Rose of the Kingdom; the king even called her his rose.
She’d cut off her hair if it stopped him from calling her his rose.
A knock sounded on the door, and it opened without her beckoning. Blake walked carefully from around the corner, making sure to not look threatening. He wore night clothes, but they were nothing like what he had worn on the island. These were expensive clothes, fit for a prince, not the coarsely woven cotton and linen clothes they had worn on the islands as they slept.
“Gloria, hi,” he waved.
“Blake?” Gloria asked.
“I- I was wondering if you’d like my company tonight,” he said. His face didn’t reflect the nervousness that his voice did, and she didn’t know which she should believe.
“I...” No. She didn’t. A rift had formed between them inexplicably. She had been so happy to see him when she had awakened in Illia’s cabin, but she hadn’t remembered the lies that he had told her. She did now, and she was still angry. It hurt. Creator it hurt so much to love something so much, and to know that it’s bad for you. That it would twist you into something of its own design like a bonsai tree instead of watching you become a full, strong tree. “I don’t-”
“It’s been so long, Gloria,” he closed his eyes, biting back an argument. “I miss you,”
Gloria felt her inner gate of discipline breaking as if under siege. “I- I’d like your company, but I’m not in the mood for anything further.”
He went to the side of the bed he had always slept on, and she on hers. Without speaking, she settled in beside him.
“I missed you, Gloria,” he repeated. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
~*~
It hurt. Everything hurt. Burns had that effect; they kept hurting, no matter the position, even hours after they had been inflicted. He felt like every inch of him was bruised or burned. Seneca was so tired, but the injuries were preventing him from sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time. Was he going to die? He doubted that Blake was that bad of an interrogator to let his prisoner die without giving up information, probably on par with Barnabus if not better. He had ice in his soul, completely unsuited for the firey Gloria…
He had been so close to telling Blake what he wanted to hear. He had run out of fiction to reference, and he was almost worried that even if he told him the truth he wouldn't believe him anymore and he would never have peace.
There’s too much riding on him not knowing who I am. This is more than me, this is the whole movement. If I can’t dethrone him, my mother still needs the chance, he willed.
~*~
Illia smiled outside Gloria’s rooms. Blake loved Gloria. As well as he could, anyway. He had been raised to love her, so why would he think any differently? He was the king’s knight in a game of chess, and he did as he was told. This match had been made before Gloria had even been conceived. There would be no better pairing.
Well, not yet, anyway.
Illia may not have been able to read Gloria’s thoughts, but she could tell when she fell asleep. Gloria had such a vibrant mind during the day that it was a sharp contrast when her mind slipped away.
She let herself in the door, closing it behind her soundlessly. Blake raised his head, listening, thinking he heard something, then quickly turning to face her. His eyes flashed angrily, and he dislodged himself from Gloria. She had never been a cuddler before, when had she picked that up?
“What are you doing here?” he hissed, keeping his voice low. He knew that Gloria slept heavily, but he didn’t want to risk anything.
“‘I miss you,’” she taunted, tilting her shoulders in a suggestive way. “Relax, darling, I’m here because I’ve come to claim my price,”
Blake went a shade paler than he already was. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to find in here, but I guarantee you-”
She held up two strands of his hair, and swirled them around with a sparking flourish. “You will stop interrogating the boy,” she said, looking him in the eye.
“I- no.” He fought with himself to resist her. “I need him- he’s important- the king expects-”
“You will stop interrogating the boy,” she said stronger, leaning in, forcing her will on him.
Blake’s mouth couldn't open for him to object, and the only word that he could form was “Agreed.” It pushed its way out of his mouth without him wanting to, his eyes blazing.
“Crazy what a bit of hair can do, isn’t it?” she said, as she tossed those hairs on the floor. “How many did you give me? And I did that with just two?” She swiveled her hips around, walked to the door, and gave a mocking wave as she left the room.
~*~
It was a nice stroll down to the dungeon, just long enough to stretch the legs and get a good rhythm going for long enough to be satisfying. As attractive as her heels normally were, Illia had opted for some cushioned slippers for the occasion. They let her move more quietly across the hard floors of the palace without waking anyone.
She saw Montoya leaning against one of the door frames, his eyes tracking her down the hallway. He watched often, but rarely said anything. He was a man of few words, and he kept his thoughts close. How he had trained to be so secretive and yet so trusted by the king was a mystery, one she’d love to learn some day, but that wasn’t her mission tonight. She had an appointment to make before the next full moon, and since that was tomorrow night she really did have to get it done tonight.
“Going somewhere?” he asked as she passed.
“Always,” she purred, not stopping.
“It’s locked,” he said bluntly.
Of course it would be locked. Blake didn’t want Gloria stumbling in on Seneca. Blake thought that he had all the cards and could control every angle, but Illia knew differently for she controlled everyone’s hands. “You think a lock has ever stopped me?” she asked over her shoulder.
With a flick of her wrist she unlocked the door and opened it. The stairs going down were dark, and the air smelled of smoke and sweat. It was disgusting. With a snap of her fingers the air was clean and the torches lit. She breathed deeply and descended.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” she observed as she stepped through the door to his private cell. The discarded prince sat in a heap on the floor, going in and out of consciousness. Thankfully Illia didn’t have much empathy; she’d hate to be in his position if the tables were turned. Dirty, in pain, unable to rest, on the verge of paranoia. It wasn’t a fitting look for a king.
She opened the cell door and strode over to him, sauntering. He probably wouldn’t have enough of a mind to appreciate her sauntering, but she enjoyed doing it anyway.
“I- I won’t tell you- anything-” he said with rolling eyes and heavy breaths. “Though- the air is a nice- a nice touch,”
“My prince, I know everything about you already, remember?” she crouched down next to him, speaking in soft, sincere tones. “But I can help you now. I couldn’t before, but things have changed for the better and I can help you be free. But I need something from you,”
His head rolled to meet her gaze. “You’re a dirty witch, you know that, right?” he said as he winced.
“I’m a witch who can get you out of here alive in one piece to see your mother again,” she offered. “I’m the witch who can help the rebellion win. No one else can help you. Take the help, boy.”
His eyelids wavered, and she took his face in her hands, steadying him. “Let me help you,” she focused, trying to persuade him.
He took a few breaths, and she could feel his pulse in his jawline. “What did you need from me?” he asked.
“I need a bit of your hair,” she said as if it were the smallest request in the world. “Just a lock of your hair and all of this will be over,”
He shrunk away from her. “My hair? I know what people like you can do with a person’s-” he inhaled sharply, “-hair.”
“I want what’s best for you, Seneca, believe me. This will all be over. All the pain, the loneliness. You’ll see Gloria again. All of this, I swear,”
He looked at her, tears in his eyes. Had they been here all this time, or had they just started to form?
“I don’t have anything to cut my hair with,” he said.
She summoned a knife from the table, making it float in front of his face. “Here you are,”
He took the knife, wincing as he moved his arms, and quickly cut off a lock of hair and hesitantly handed it to her.
“Thank you, my prince.”
AHHH! We're getting closer! Have your predictions changed? Next chapter will bit a big one, lots will be revealed! Gosh I'm so excited!
Bloopers!
Also, I have some bad news. My grandma is in poor health and I suspect that I may be grieving her soon. This story brings me joy, but I can't be certain that chapters will come out regularly in the coming weeks. I appreciate that you want to say 'I'm sorry for your situation,' but we can move past that on here. This isn't my platform for grieving, it's where I like to post fun things. I'm only bringing it up so that if there's a break in posts, that's why. I hope to let you know if there will be a break at the time it is needed.
Anwyn having another child really complicates things. Years of not being pregnant, and suddenly it happens when they're on a dangerous mission. What are the odds?
Do Montoya and Ilia happen to know each other? Or did she use her mind tricks on him? I wonder what would happen if Ilia learned from him that Gloria's parents are here
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Also, laughing at the blooper picture at the end of the chapter. That face is hilarious.
The next chapter has been edited, so I just have to comb through it again and then I'll be able to take screenies. So I'm hoping in the next few days we'll get the next chapter posted!
Chapter 65
Midshore knocked on the door of the mansion, hoping her disguise wouldn’t draw attention to herself. She didn’t want to stay long, just long enough to learn what she needed to know, and then get on her way.
The door opened and a maid stood there, dressed plainly. Not even a butler? wondered Midshore.
“Hello?” the maid asked. “How can I help you?”
“Hello, I was looking for someone. The cook? Is she in?” Midshore inquired. Was this the right house?
“Uh, yeah,” she answered, not moving to let her in.
“Can I see her?” Midshore asked.
“Uh… I think so.” She left the door and Midshore walked in on her own. The place was certainly run down, with candles low and cobwebbed corners. The air was musty, and the walls had water markings and mold starting to grow. Not much of a home for a lord.
“She’s this way,” the girl trailed off, leading Midshore through some rooms.
Muffled noises were heard on the other side of the door. “I swear, I’m the only thing that works right around here anymore!” came an old woman’s voice. “Now the chimney won’t even work!”
The maid trailed off in an unhurried manner, wandering around as if she were a ghost. Midshore raised an eyebrow, then opened the heavy door to the kitchen.
In here, it was clear that an attempt was being made to keep things clean, but it wasn’t quite attainable.
The old woman looked up from her work. She was older than Midshore remembered, but as with many spellcasters, she hadn’t visibly aged much. “Mirri, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you today,”
Midshore smiled. “I don’t go by Mirri any more, ma’am. My name is Midshore now.”
The old woman also smiled, going to the stove. “So you took up a new name on the islands, just like so many others. I rather wish I’d gone myself, now. If I had gone, I wouldn’t be frustrated that I’m the only one here who knows how to keep things clean!” She lit a fire under a pot on the stove. “I’ll start some tea, I’m sure there’s a lot to catch up on.”
Midshore had been here once as a girl, she remembered. It had been a beautiful place, with scrubbed walls and floors, clean windows, and fine furniture. It was very different from what it was now. The windows to the small courtyard were clean, but all of the others were covered in a film of rain spots and dust.
The water on the stove started to boil, and the cook went to grab the pot, but Midshore grabbed it instead. “I can get that,”
“Don’t be too nice to me, Mirri, I won’t let you leave,” she chuckled. “Come with me, we’ll go to the sitting room.”
They went to the next room over, setting the tray on a table. With a creak, the cook sat down in a comfortable chair, and motioned for Midshore to do the same.
“Won’t the lord be cross that we’re here?” Midshore asked, hesitant.
“Unlike us, the lord of the house has aged… disagreeably. He spends most of his time in bed, and rarely does he come down the stairs. We won’t have to worry about him, and as no one else lives here, we don’t have to worry about anyone else either.” She took a sip of her tea. “So, deary, tell me why you’re here.”
Midshore talked for what felt like hours about how she had come to meet Anwyn, Liam, and Romeo and how Gloria was the pin that held all of the king’s plans together and the danger she was in.
“I knew you and Enya would fall in love.” She smiled wistfully as Midshore finished her story, “You and Romeo weren’t a good match for each other.”
“Enya goes by Everstar now, as I said several times.” Midshore corrected.
“Well, you can humor an old woman for a few hours, can’t you?” she asked with a sigh. “Now I have a few things to tell you. Firstly, is that there are powers at the palace that even out perform yours. Illia has taken up residence there as a thorn in the Duchess's son’s side. I don't know that you could challenge her and win. Her powers focus on the mind and controlling it, and she’s gotten very good at her craft. And don’t look at me, I’ll not be going with you to help fight her. I’m an old woman, spellcaster or no. Sure, I’m spry for my age, but I’m not fighting Illia. That’s a death sentence.”
“I’ll worry about that when I need to. Hopefully I’ll be able to teleport them out of there and to a safe place until I can get them back to the Islands. Illia has never been there, so I doubt she’ll be able to find her way, even with her tracking charms.”
“Oh, so you felt that too? It made my cooking taste horrid for a week.”
“Ma’am, I need to find them. You understand why I need to get them all home to their families, but I don’t know the way. Can you help me, just to find them?”
The cook gave her a side eyed glance. “You know, we got into all of this mess because I helped in the first place. I helped that poor girl not have the king’s child. Imagine all the heartache we wouldn’t have had to go through if I had kept that charm to myself. You’d still be at home with your wife and children, Romeo would have settled down eventually and been happy, and we wouldn’t be in this civil war that’s torn the world in two.”
“But think of all the good you’ve caused with your charm. Anwyn and Liam are happy, with four children. Romeo met a brave and fierce wife and has two sons of his own. The tyrannical king is nearly able to be dethroned and his reign will come to an end if we can break Gloria out of their grasp.”
“And have you thought about what will happen if you dethrone him? Who will rule? He’s an only child of an only child, the new ruler would be a distant relation at best.”
“Perhaps that’s a good thing,” Midshore countered. “The kingdom needs a new look on things, a new hand to guide things.” She knotted her brow. “I don’t suppose you know who the new ruler in line would be?”
The cook leaned back in her chair, smiling knowingly. “I sure do.”
~*~
Whenever Gloria had a hard day, even long before she had met Blake on the Islands, she would just want to lie in bed and try to make the day go away. Of course she’d had huge windows in her room and a glass ceiling so it was impossible to forget what time of day it was. None of that hindered her from depressively laying in bed and wanting to let sleep erase her feelings.
But what happened when the thing you were most bothered by was sleep?
It was a full moon tonight. Even with her restraints on she could feel her power bubbling, building with the full moon. It would subside when it wasn’t used, but it lent to her feeling pent up. She wanted to move, but grief sat on her like a blanket of bricks, impossible to escape from.
The weight came and went in severity, but it was always heavy. With no chores or assignments to do, she had nothing prodding her mind away from the pain.
She’d heard nothing of a plan to get her out of here, or anything about her parents. Could she go to see them? Could she hold them again? If this all went horribly would she never see them again? Oh Creator, what if she never saw her parents again?
~*~
“I can’t believe how well this is working out.” Illia paced her room, watching the hours go by. “You see, I have them all in the palm of my hand. Everything is just how I need it to be.” She looked at the cat. “But how do you have everything you need, Illia? Good question!”
She sat down on her sofa, hardly able to keep from moving. “I’ve commanded Blake to stop his interrogation, and I’ve received some of Seneca’s hair. I have the two most powerful men under my thumb! Oh, the king may think he’s powerful, but we all know he lost his edge when he no longer controlled the whole kingdom. He's been slipping for years. No, Blake thinks that he can control Gloria, and that she’ll be the queen not too long from now. And with her powers bottled up, who can stop him, right?”
She crossed her legs. “Me! I can stop him! I can take control of this kingdom the way I’ve been trying to for generations, but Blake was finally stupid enough to fall into the trap! Well, I can give him some credit, he didn’t know that his heir was in the same place as the true heir. Nor does he know who he has in his dungeon. The heir to the throne, under his very nose,” she purred. “And he has no idea, but I do.”
She looked back at the cat. “I’ve been trying to become the most powerful woman this world has ever seen, perfecting my craft so that I could one day pull the right strings to make the right connections.” She ran her hand through her hair. “And I once again have just the right way to do it. I’m going to marry the true heir, then watch them all burn as I rise to claim the power I’ve desired for so long. And no one can stop me. They will worship me like a god, or so help them.”
~*~
Gloria’s arms felt heavy as she pulled back the covers. “It’s not going to be any different than it already has been,” she said to herself. “I- I already don’t have him around, he’s already gone, put to rest. I’ll be alone, and that’ll be alright.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “I’ll be alone.”
Blake had wanted to share her company tonight just as he had the last, but she had turned him down.
“You seem so sad today, can I help you? I don’t want you to be alone,” he had tried to embrace her.
“No-” she distanced herself from him. “I… really need to be alone tonight. I have to grieve on my own. I should be better tomorrow; this feeling comes and goes.” She tried to smile as she turned away from him. He wanted to be close to her, to pull her into a delusion, and over the past two weeks it had been hard to remember what was the lie. Everyone acted as if it were a given that she was the heir, and they treated her like it, too. The king treated her like his daughter, Blake’s mother acted like she was going to be her daughter in law. Blake acted like she was going to marry him, and all of the staff acted like she was a holy relic. The whole thing at first had made her feel like a china doll, and she felt her sense of reality slipping somewhat. How long could she deny Blake before he looked further into why?
Even with all of those things weighing down on her mind, they were all dwarfed in comparison to the idea that Seneca was dead. Had she caused the fire? Illia said that she probably didn’t have control of her powers. What if it had been an accident? Months ago she had sparked the fire and alerted the templars, so who’s to say that she hadn’t started the fire that killed him?
She was going to be alone, what if it was her fault?
“Nothing can change the past. I have to face this, and know that I will live beyond it.”
She closed her eyes as she sank into the overly-soft mattress, and waited for sleep to come.
It didn’t take long before she was faced with the swirling sky. The smell of fresh flowers and running water made her smile. The water bubbled along in the small stream, clear as new glass. It would feel wonderful through her toes, she thought, and she went to take off her shoes.
When she looked up, she saw- something that shouldn’t- couldn’t be there, as much as she had prayed he would be. He was dead, she hadn’t felt him anymore. She hadn’t felt anything since the equipment had gone on again. But he- he was dead.
Seneca stood staring at her, mouth slightly agape.
***
You love her, the woman had said. It was true. Nothing in his life of schemes and plans had been truer. He loved the one woman in the world who would pull the thread to bring it all tumbling down, but he didn’t care. He had tried not to, he had fallen anyway, head over heels. She had been one of the only people who had seen him for him, and not as the piece of his mother’s plans.
“Gloria,” he breathed.
***
“You’re dead,” she said, shaking her head as she approached. “You’re dead! I grieved for you! How are you- what’re you-” she didn’t know which question to ask first, walking towards him. Was he a ghost? A shadow? Would she go through him like air if she got close enough to touch him?
“You’re dead!” she said, walking as if she were set on a collision course for him. He just looked at her with tears in his eyes, as if she were the only constellation in the sky. “Why don’t you say anything?!” she pointed at him, placing one hand on his chest.
He blinked, and took hold of one of her wrists. She took a sharp breath, surprised and miles beyond relieved that she could feel a solid form as he took hold of her other wrist, pulling her in and kissing her.
Her heart swelled as she kissed him. This is what she had been missing, what she had wanted to do on the island towards the end, when they
had been happy. They wrapped each other in their arms, holding tight.
“Seneca, are you… are you dead?” Gloria asked after she had held him long enough to believe he was real. “Blake said there was a fire, and I hardly made it out alive, and that I was the only one who survived. But I don’t remember any of it…”
He held her for a while more, not wanting to break the seal of joy he hadn’t felt in weeks.
Gloria felt his chest rise and fall. “Blake is a murderer.” he said gruffly. “He killed Henry, and when we tried to stop him the woman cast a spell on you to make you unconscious, and they took me prisoner.” He sniffed. “I’m alive, Gloria. I’m alive. I’m in the dungeon, and Blake has been trying to find out what I know.”
“He… He killed Henry? But I thought that maybe if Henry came back to see us gone on the island he would alert your mother, and the rebellion would come and storm the palace sooner. If Henry’s gone, they don’t know that we’re not there.”
“That may not matter. We want them to be strong, not wondering if their plans will work.” His stubbled chin tickled her neck as he adjusted his position. “Gloria, I love you. If I never see you again, or I have to wait fifty years until we see each other again, I want you to know that I love you.” He was crying now, and Gloria could feel his breath starting to shake. “But I need you to run. I need you to get as far away from Blake and the king and the seer as fast as you can. I don’t think I’m going to make it, and I need to know that you made it out of here alive and that you can still be happy. Run all the way back to the Islands. You’ll be safe there.”
Gloria pulled away to look at his face. “You think I’m going to let you die here? In pain? I couldn't leave you! I thought you were dead already, I’m not going to let you die when I could save you!”
“Don’t be stupid! If you try to save me, you’ll be caught! If they know that you know I’m alive, you'll be under surveillance for years, twisted to the king’s will! This is the only way you get to live and be free. Just run.”
“Seneca,” she bit her lip, unable to meet his urgent gaze. “I.. love you.” She hadn’t said it to Blake, ever. He had wanted her to, to promise that she loved him and would spend her life with him. But she hadn’t, and now she knew that place in her life had always been reserved for Seneca, no matter how Blake had tried to fit the hole.
“I know,” he said, as he pulled her closer. He was starting to blur at the edges, a sign that he was going to wake up. “I know.”
AHHHH! Is this what I've been wanting this whole story to build up to?
Yes.
And as always, I write to music, and this is no exception. I'll let you guys in on a sneak peak of my playlist for this generation:
And of course there were a few bloopers. Enjoy!
^It was snowing and it looked so pretty, I had to take a picture. Snow looks prettier when it's moving though.
^I didn't go with this picture because of the spoiled tea on the side, and I felt a closer picture was better.
^I don't play with pets very often. Do love beams frequently come out of their eyes? Taco, are you ok? Taking heart eyes to a new level...
^Taco
^I accidently took these when she was in her night gown instead of her everyday dress. So they're bloopers now!
^ I saw this, and I loved it. The close-but-far feeling is strong.
^Ended up not wanting a picture of Seneca smiling.
^ These are beautiful pictures, but I kinda felt like they clogged up the roll too much, and it's supposed to be a happy moment, these both look sad. Which kinda fits, but not quite.
Next is all the lovely pictures that didn't make it into the story, but I was trying out anyway:
Thankyou everyone for reading, and if you had any thoughts or reactions while reading, please post them! I absolutely love getting comments.
Stay safe, stay inspired!
And Gloria was still able to dream despite the restraints. I guess the cat's out of the bag now
Speaking of cats, the hearts mean that the cat's in heat and wants to mate. Spaying/neutering them is supposed to make it stop
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?