The blue man was interesting enough to look at, but any illusion that anyone had ever had about vampires were brutally shattered by the pure nerdiness of what was known as Albert. Yes, Albert; the nerdiest vampire in simnation. Turned out that he'd been in charge of opening the store "Nerds inc" with the slogan: "Nerds? We got 'em". Wolf the genie didn't seem to impressed at the information though. Turned out that supernaturals were just as boring as all other grown ups.
It was a bit strange beeing at uncle Rikards mansion, but Efraim didn't complain. He'd rather be home though. Like a lot of older kids, he was sure it was his job beeing mature whilst uncle Marco and Bashir were gone. Not that it was easy acting grown up when your voice changes between falsetto and deep.
The younger ones needed to see him calm, so that they wouldn't be nervous and to keep the adults from getting worried. What Effie really wanted to do was to crawl into mums lap and cry; not dads, he'd freak out; but mum was strong and tough.
His parents had been supposed to move in together, but it had been postponed due to uncle Marco. And it was for the best, because Jarl and Odin needed him. And so did Lucky now that her mum couldn't find her dad either. That was different ofcourse, he was just overworked. But to be honest even a child like him was getting suspicious that something had happened. They still needed to stick together now. Skuld could take care of herself, but he'd carry her worries to if she ever needed it.
The fairylady and Jarl had been talking for quite some time. Well, mainly she had been talking with that super cute voice, and he had been listening. She kept saying he was a plantsim and that meant he could do plantstuff that ordinary sims couldn't. That made him special! It was kind of fun beeing special, but it was easy to say when you were pretty and only had sparkly wings.
He was green and full of leaves, they were gross. And to be honest the fairylady didn't look very trustworthy most of the time, and liked to exaggerate a bit it seemed. What would he even need to photosynthesis for? That was just strange, and probably not even true. Jarl got a bit bored in the end, and instead went to play with Lucky and Odin. Grown ups were boring, even when they had sparkling wings.
Jarl wasn't the only one that was bored. Skuld was to, and ended up studying the supernaturals from her chair. They sounded pretty much like other sims, the voices were deep, and they talked about the same boring stuff.
But maybe they looked different on the inside from other sims? What about their brains? Did they even have brains? And what about wings, did they disappear when they died? And why could vampires die anyway? Weren't they supposed to be dead already, Skuld thought as she studied the nerdiest sim in simnation. She wasn't surprised that most of them were guys though. Rikard was a bloke, so obviously most of his friends would be to.
The boring looking guy "what's his name" barely even looked at her, so Skuld looked at the fairy instead, just to find that the woman was already studying her.
You're a very pretty girl, her voice was over- the- top cute, bet a lot of boys liked that. Skuld didn't have a light voice, hers was pretty deep already. Odin said she sounded like a man, which was stupid.
I know, Skuld simply answered. It wasn't bragging, it was true, she was pretty.
The fairy studied her for a while, before talking again: Did you know that in the old days, a lot of supernaturals never got old, and lived forever?
Listened with an intensity unknown to her, she pretended not to be interested: That's not true... Ofcourse Jarl wasn't the only one that had noticed the fairylady liked to exaggerate a bit.
Oh yes it is! She insisted: Nowadays most supernaturals ages and dies like normal sims. But a few figures out how to live forever. But it's just for the most powerful ones. She said it with such a longing voice, that it ended up haunting the young girls mind.
Skuld liked beeing rude to grownups, they were stupid and not smart like her: So you're weak.
Annoyingly the fairy didn't get offended: Yes, unfortunately. I tried my hands at alchemy to. Leaning even more forward, she continued: It's said that there's a recipeit that can make you young and healthy for all eternity. Drink it once, and you'll never die.
Now she listened even more, pretending harder that she wasn't. Alchemy? She could do that. If that stupid fairy could manage it, it would be a piece of cake for her! But it seemed that the fairylady would do anything to crush poor Skulds dream: Unfortunately only those with supernatural powers can work with the most powerful potions. It's something in our touch that makes them potent, and guaranteed to work!
Just like that, an ambitous young girl already knew what she wanted out of life: to never die: I could do it. Skuld said with the utmost confidence: I'm special and really clever.
Then let me take a look at you then, fairylady said to her. Quickly walking over, Skuld let the woman touch her face and hands. She almost covered the surprise exclaiming: You know, I actually think you're right! You could be an alchemist!
Ofcourse I can. The girl said with confidence. Really, who else could do it?
Expecting the lady to let her hand go, she instead felt the womans hard grasp around her wrists: Who's your mother?
What? Skuld didn't get why she wanted to know. She didn't care, so why did others?
What's your mothers name? That cute voice was probably supposed to sound scary.
I've never even met her! The girl hissed at the old lady, as some mansvoice she didn't recognized started talking in the background.
Without a break, the woman continued: You look a lot like my stepmother. She cheated on my dad, got pregnant and gave the baby to the father. How old are you? She demanded with hard voice. The grip around her wrist got even harder. Why the hell did the school teach them that men were stronger than women? That hurt!
None of your business you old bitch! Skuld hissed at the old lady as she stood up trying to grab her around the face to get a better look.
As the man "what's his name" had barely started reacting, Effie was already on his way throwing himself around the ladies arm. He was scared, but the grown ups didn't do anything and since he was the oldest, it was his job saving the day. Even if it was Skuld.
Finally letting go of her arm, Skuld was able to get a bit away from the fairylady. If it had been Efraims doing, the other grown ups finally interfering or the fact that Rikard came into the room was to be unsaid.
She and her wounded pride still didn't get an appology from the old hag. Not that she really cared; she was busy thinking about eternal life. The thought of having a mother didn't even cross her.
Expensive shoes is a bitch to walk in, the heels has a tendency to clack gainst wooden floors, making it difficult to stay quiet. All depending on the shoe ofcourse. Womens heels are often louder than mens, but when someone needs to get the hell out a place these were way to loud.
Certain sounds were easy to recognize, even when one had never heard them before; like knives slicing in sims for instance. Not a very pleasant sound either. Where the hell had that come from? He hadn't even noticed until the boy was laying on the ground gurgling for air.
Atleast that arsehole had been clever enough to quickly pick the gun up, and shoot another way. And even better; no ricochetes. Even if his ears rang like a band of gnomes had a wild party in there.
What the hell? Marco was almost at a loss of words for a change, as Bashir cut the rope with the small, bloody knife.
He would've killed me next...
Like he didn't know that: You could still have let him shoot me. He'd let donutbeard- boy kill Bashir without hesitation: And why the hell didn't they search you? He was whisper yelling at the guy as best he could.
I took it from donutboy when I was behind him, it was just in his belt for some reason... Couldn't duckface atleast sound like he was as stressed out as Marco felt: And I don't think Ori would have forgiven me if I let her brother get killed...
The tiny knife was sharp enough by the feel of it, but the now- dead- boy had picked a damned thick rope. And maybe his brother in law tried not stabbing him in the prosess to. Either that, or things just felt like they took a hell of a lot longer: Yet you tried getting Rowena to get rid of me... Marco hissed: Hurry the fuck up!
I'm going as fast as I can you gorilla, or do you want me slicing your wrists... And I told Rowena to get rid of you, because she hates my fucking guts. She does the opposite of what I suggest; always has. Still as calm as they come, and a wholehearted bastard. No shit? Everyone hated his gut. And did he have to say it so drily? That just made him more irritating as he continued: I can't believe she was dumb enough to take you here...
For once Marco had to agree with ratbreath: What's going on with her anyway?
Bashir talked with the same low voice: I don't know. She gets crazier by the moment, but I have no idea why. She talks to someone who's not there... sees things that doesn't exsist... I don't know, don't care either, probably stress or something.... Bashir wasn't particulary well- versed in the world of psychology. By his own will ofcourse, he worried that he'd then realize how many things that guaranteed was wrong with him.
The sudden feel of blood getting back into the hands would normally have been a relief, but it stung and itched like hell. Marco took the opportunity to rub the aching wrists, while trying to get up. Even his knees was aching after the odd position.
Nothing beats escaping death by a breath, and learn that your own family gets even freakier: We need to get out of her.
Hogging both weapons, Bashir answered: Obviously, and you're a bigger target then me.... so after you...
What do you mean "after you"? Is there a window here or something? Marco hadn't seen one atleast.
It's a loft blondie.... Or as much as one could call it a loft anyway, it was more like a tiny room at the topfloor that was for unuseful crap. But there was a limit to how descriptive one could be when sims wanted you dead, and you happened to be stuck somewhere in the middle. Donut- boy was already starting to smell a bit in the moist humidity. Doing his best not to beat his in- law into a bloody pulp, he whisperyelled: Lofts have windows!!!
Slowly eying him up and down, with one eyebrow raised Bashir asked: ...and you usually fit through these windows? Right, there was that.
Rubbing his back with sore hands, Marco wondered why it took so long before the aching stopped. Where was the adrenaline when needed: Where are we?
It's a storage outside Riverview. They're in the prosess of ditching it.
Still doing his best to try to get some useful information out of duckface: How many are there? That was the important thing to ask, when there were no windows one could press yourself out of.
No idea, I've been kept away from most part. You know, since they were going to kill me? They've taken my phone, and I've constantly been followed by a minimum of two idiots the few times I've even been allowed to move around. I think it's pretty empty... or not.
We need to get out of here someway, are there any backdoors, anything?
No.
Bashir was the appifany of irritating behaviour, atleast to Marco. What the hell were they supposed to do then: Well, why don't they have any backdoors?!
It's a storage. How blonde could this guy possibly be?
Give me the glock, Marco held his hand out: I know how to use one! Bashir eyed him up and down suspiciously, hogging the weapon close: It's the gun ratbreath....
I know, Bashir answered matter- of- factly. He just didn't mention he wasn't a very good shot, he'd never had any weaponstraining. But strangely enough he didn't want to give it to someone who was a great shooter, and really hated his guts. It was kind of asking for more trouble, since he'd already killed donut- boy.
I'm not going to kill you, you moron! A gunshot would kill you to quickly. He ended up taking the weapon out of those gross man-hands instead. Knives? Bashir was such a pansy.
Hurrying over to the door, they stood a while listening- Marco with his ear against the door. Or he was until: You know, if someone were right outside they'd heard us a long time ago. Still as dry as ever.
Giving the guy an annoyed glare, he whisper- hissed: Well, someone might have showed up AFTERWARDS!!
As great the idea of arguing over petty things are, whilst there's a building full of sims wanting you dead, it also leads to not paying a attention. Every single time he opened his mouth, whatever he said came true as they now heard a couple of voices, and hard boots stomping on the floor. Quickly checking the hinges showing that the door went inwards, made them hide behind it hopefully giving a natural shield. Not that it would help a lot. Unfortunately Bashir took the same thought and hid behind him again.
As the voices got closer and the door opened, they both took the same thought: Why the hell hadn't they hidden the corpse? It was straight infront of the fucking door!
Maybe luck still worked in Marcos favour, or maybe it was one of the good things about having men and women working toghether? The two thugs were so busy flirting, their heads close together as they were on their way doing their dirty business. So this was to be the help for the executioner? Just two sims that no one would have looked twice at if they met on the street?
Having the door closing behind them, it took a few seconds before they even reacted to the sight of a dead comrade.
Training since he was a teenager, it was the very first time he'd ever used it on another sim. No matter how many times he'd wanted to. But desperate times calls for desperate measures, or so others claimed. For now that was good enough. The lovely little symbol of a silken black sash with x- ammount of grading, was at home. A small, very significant symbol of the many years of training sim- fu.
He really hadn't thought that one through. The heavy mans body made such a noise, it had to been heard all the way downtown. Then he ended up with a lot bigger problem; the woman shyed away from him in fear, staring at him for something that seemed like an eternity. But it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.
Marco couldn't hit a woman, less likely kill her. Those women would really be the death of him.
There was that sound again, this time blended in with the gurgling of someone choking on their own blood. Not to mention it made a lot less sound than kicking the daylight out of someone. Did this mean that duckface was more clever than him?
Kneeling down quietly the woman still tried grasping for breath, without managing it. Atleast it made a lot less noise than his solution.
You killed her!! It was a statement, one couldn't just walk around killing women!
No, she's still alive unless you can hear it... or see it....
Then make it go faster!! Marco whisper- yelled at him. He'd shoot her, but it would make to much noise. This was horrible!! Poor lady....
How the bloody hell am I supposed to do that? Do you think this is something I do every fucking day?! He gestured towards the woman crawling on the floor now: Look at that, she's not going anywhere.... well.... fast atleast. eventually she fell on her dead mates, making a delightfully tiny sound, barely hearable.
What the fuck is wrong with you?? Marco was still doing his best to whisper, and not scream in the guys face.
Tearing his eyes away from the woman finally taking her last breaths, or trying to take them, Bashir answered: You know you kicked that guys skull in right?
That's different!! You can't just kill women! That's sick!
Bashir actually laughed; a soft, low genuine laughter he'd never given the guy credit for having. But really, was that something to laugh about?!
What? How is that funny?!
Clearing his throat, Bashir got back to his usual self, saying: We need to get out of here; incase the guy here fell loud enough to be heard through the entire building.
As silently as possible, they kept sneaking down stairs and around corners. Bashir knew this place a lot better than him, but as he'd already mentioned; they had kept him away from most part. What Marco just couldn't understand was why a storage- building had so many floors!! Probably an old officebuilding that had been converted... fucking politicians fault.
Marco liked having a gun, especially when he realized that the few thugs they saw had a tendency to have either knives or revolvers. But for now a gun was just to loud to be of any use. As Bashir had thought, the place seemed to be pretty empty of folks. It wasn't like criminals usually had an office, or a common place they hung out. That would have been pretty idiotic, but this was apparently a temporary place set up because the morcus had insisted. They were used to working in different ways than just common criminals. After all, why else would they be dumb enough to have meetings with Rowena.
Things were starting to get to close for his liking. One look, just one little gaze to the left and she'd seen them. Even if the thugs were few and far between, they were still to many. They were never getting out of here.
Waiting for the footsteps to leave, Marco never let out the breath he was holding, even as the sound dissapeared to the top floor. From the upstairs they could hear the walking and talking of several other sims. But for now they were alone, atleast alone enough: Aren't there any ways out of here? Marco had never talked so silently in his life. They would never get out the front door, not with this speed.
There's windows that we won't fit through: Bashir was getting annoyed, as they clinged to the few boxes hoping no one would turn their head. This was sick! And the three dead thugs would be missed. If they were lucky, all the experienced criminals were gone, but the missing ones would be detected either way.
Calling their voices whispers would be a horrible overstatement. He'd liked better not to use his voice at all, but Bashir seemed to be as much at loss as himself. That was, until: Rowenas office. There's an old door there that used to leave to an escaperoute. It's probably been sealed.
Rowenas office? His cousines office? What if she attacked them? He couldn't injure his cousine, or even let ratbreath do it. And why the hell was that guy pointing that damned stinky knife at him?!
No
She's not there you gorilla... Great, now he was mindreader to: She just calls it that, for when she needs to talk to someone without beeing disturbed. This is still a storage....
It was a good thing that he'd kept his hope down to a minimum as he was close to giving up. But it was always that small thought of his children that tugged at the back of his mind. He really wanted to see them just one last time. Just once.
Then he had one of those other thoughts again: Wait. What about the informant?
Looking around himself, hoping to avoid prying eyes Bashir also thought it was to much talking for his liking: What? There was something about his wife and her brothers family, they talked to much.
The cops have an insider. Is the informant here? Marco explained: I'm not a dirty cop. Not that Vigdis had actually said directly that they had an informant, but it had been pretty obvious either way. Not that he usually cared about sims like that, but for once he didn't think anyone deserved whatever faiths someone like Rowena would find for them.
I know. We need to keep moving. Bashir thought Marco was even slower finishing things than the old owl- aka his wife.
Really? Why did he always have to drag every single little thing out of that guy?! Couldn't he just finish one sentence: How the hell do you know?
It's me blondie.....
No it's not
Yes it is. I work for the city. We're trying to get rid of the Morcus. Kind of obvious when thinking about it, isn't it? They really didn't have time for any more arguments at this moment.
Then why haven't you gotten caught?! No way was Rowena that stupid. She was related to him after all.
Even with that low whisper, he managed to keep his voice immensly dry: Because I've been doing this my entire adult life, and always pin it on someone else. So obvious wasn't it.
There was no way that could be true, how dumb did that guy think he was anyway? Was ratface one of the good guys? Ofcourse the term "good" could be discussed. But MorcuCorp should have been all over the city by now, and they weren't. No. No way duckface had been working with them the entire time. Besides, if he'd been pinning his own wrongdoings on others, it meant lots of sims was dead because of him. That was rotten. Atleast Marco was highly law- abiding.....
He didn't bother telling duckface it was clear for them to move on. If he wanted to pretend beeing a good guy now, he could damned well keep up on his own.
What a great joy that he'd gotten a hold of a gun! It was a lot more effective way of beating the guards unconscious than just with his hands. Ofcourse it would be a lot better, if he could use it to shoot someone with! Atleast this time, Bashir had the decency to prevent the guy from falling that loudly.
Finally outside the "office" Marco huffed whilst dragging the passed- out guard inside. This guy was still alive. It was just that they hadn't expected someone in there. Retrospectivly the should probably have stopped and wondered why else someone would be standing outside. This whole "having death breathing down your neck"- thing didn't do wonders for his usual calm professionalism.
And there she was, just sitting there, that old hag he hated so deeply. To think he'd been worried about Rowena. Atleast she would most likely have attacked, but this old lady just sat there staring arrogantly at them.
Not a word! Bashir was a lot quicker than him this time; where's you co- worker. None of them expected her to answer: Just down the hallway, in the next room. Why are you two alive?
Marco just couldn't take his eyes off her. And here he had been thinking about how he couldn't harm a woman. But she didn't count as a woman, or as a sim for that matter.
Try the door you gorilla! Bashirs irritated voice quickly woke him up again. Ofcourse she was right, not only was the door locked and barred from the outside. It was rusted in place. To bad Rowena hadn't been a complete moron.
So close, they had been so close. He didn't have time for this, what was he going to do now? This had been their only chance. Again Bashir interrupted his thoughts: I'll go find the other Morcu.
Still with his hands again the barred door, Marco asked him to wait: Give me the knife, you take the gun. After a break he continued: Use it on yourself if you get caught.
Taking it from him without hesitation, he left with a pair of famous last words: I'll be right back.
No he wasn't. He was going to kill the other morcu to be on the safe side, then rat him out to Rowena, or get out on his own. Marco really hated that guy.
There was someone he hated a lot more. Old and fragile with clear eyes and still a strong voice, the old principal hadn't moved. Marco had never forgotten her, never. No matter how hard he'd tried, she always lay in the back of his mind. She even smelled the same, her scent easily overwhelming the rotting stink of the room. Poor Joe.
The guard still hadn't moved, but as it turned out a strange knifewound had magically appeared on his back. Bashir must have stabbed him when he wasn't looking. Killing someone defensless wasn't his style; clearly his brother- in- law had gotten that.
He was going to die either way, wasn't he? He'd never get out of here alive, even when they were so close to escape. Gnomesized windows, damned blocked doors, damn Rowena, damn Bashir, but most of all: Damned that old hag to hell and further down....
He was going to die either way... another look at that creature on the chair nearly made him see red. Joe was his best mate, even better than Rye had ever been. He'd tricked that old bitch time and time around just to give Joe a break once in a while. Retrospectively he realized that he should have told someone, but they had just been kids and assumed no one believed them. And let's face it, it was more common for men beeing that way.
Joe had been a good kid, sensitive, sweet and vulnerable. Completely unlike him. But there she'd been, turning him into some gross, fucked up mess that still wasn't near normal. Just look at her sitting there, and she didn't even remember him.
Do you even remember me? He wasn't supposed to say that out loud, how come the words has escaped his mouth?
From the inteviews on tv yes, she gave him a short suspicious look.
That's not what I meant, he barked out to loudly, quickly silencing himself again: From school.... you were my principal, I practically lived in your office. Remember?
A short surprised look on her face dissapeared quickly. Maybe he had just imagined the face she pulled? Whatever he was looking for, wasn't coming. Turning away from him she simply said: It's been many years, I can't remember every kid I ever met.
"Every kid", he wasn't just "every kid": I really should kill you. He did his very best not to kill her instantly.
Smiling acidly at him, she said: What are you going to do Marco? Beat me to death? How did she know his name, if she couldn't remember? The thought that she might remember it from the tv intervjues, or picked it up from this place didn't cross his mind. It was everything he needed. He hated the way she said his name: No. You're not worth using that much energy on. It was strange what a calmness he felt sinking in over him, pushing the anger away. He felt just like he did when he was meditating.
But they were rudely interrupted before anything could happen: he's here! Some unknown voice shouted.
Barely noticing the sims getting engulfed in fire, running around wildly pulling it with them, Marco still kept his focus on that old hag. He was a freak, he just had to accept it, he hadn't even moved an inch, it had just engulfed the nearest thug, immideately bringing her screaming to her knees. Fine, if he was going to die, so was the rest of these arseholes. They deserved burning, until their stomachs cracked open as their intestines boiled. Unlike last time, this fire was scorching, spreading through the buildings inventory. It took the sims so long to die, and so short for the inventory to catch fire.
He could barely hear voices over the roaring flames, but that didn't matter to him at all.
Despite him just starting a fire on a whim, the old lady didn't move or say anything. She might have been in shock, but that didn't bother Marco. If he was going to die anyway, he might as well have one last wish come true, right? He deserved it, he'd been such a nice guy since he had kids. With a good hold around the knife, he stabbed the hag in the stomach, just to make sure she couldn't get away again.
He then pulled out a chair, sat opposite her and wathced. He wanted the last thing she'd see in her life to be him.
Uncle Rikard wasn't very nice in Efraims young mind. He had walked in on them after he helped Skuld get away from the old fairy. Asking what was happening. Then the fairy had lied!! That he had just attacked her after reprimanding Skuld for beeing rude! He didn't attack anyone!! Adults were so stupid. He wanted to take care of the other kids, but this was to much for him.
Effie wanted to get away from it all sometimes. Everyone treated him like he was a kid! He was almost a teenager, and so much more mature than the others. So he snuck out! The grown- ups could look after the other kids, he wanted to be alone just for once! Sitting on the swing he almost regretted it, the moon looked unusally eerie tonight. But he couldn't go back to uncle Rikard after running away.
Hello? Joe picked up the phone, thankful for the interruptance after all the simdrama that had been going on. Meave and Oriana was really at a go, and he had to side with his wife, even if he agreed with Oriana. And what was up with this Jonny thing? Was Oriana making stuff up to keep them out of her hair?
Rikards voice was calm at the other end, telling about how Efraim had run off. He hadn't wanted to pick him up because he was the one that had made him run off in the first place.
Joe didn't think that type of behaviour sounded like his son, but atleast Rikard was keeping an eye on the boy, until he could pick him up. The nearest playground was the place of choice to hide for a kid appereantly.
Effie ran off, he told his wife after a questioned look. Rikards there with him.
You were supposed to turn the phone off and put it in the hallway like the rest of us! Oriana complained. So that they wouldn't get interrupted like this. Not that she'd thought about the kids dissapearing, so good thing he hadn't.
Yeah, I lied... Joe wasn't sorry. He'd kept it in case something like this would happen, which he'd anticipated with his brothers layed back attitude about tweens: I'll go pick him up. He kissed her goodbye and went out the door.
Hello, answering the phone he assumed it was one of his co- workers from MorcuCorp: Come again?! He was actually surprised, even if he had hoped for something like this to happen: They torched the place, and she's dead? Ouch. His boss was dead, caught in some inferno in a storage- building in Riverview. Well, that happens when someone tries cooperating with the criminal gangs in Jericho, and that other shithole.
It meant there was a golden chance for him. Not that they hadn't planned on making an opportunity like this, but this made it a whole lot easier. He'd been sure to get whatever information he could from that woman, Oriana. Her name, where she lived, what was going on, who she lived with, when they were at home and the list just went on. She was quite gullible.
Ofcourse, he'd only helped her since he was plotting taking over MorcuCorp, but needed a way of getting rid of his boss. That old hag just never wanted to die of age, and he'd run out of patience.
He hadn't told this to his partner in crime how he'd worked ofcourse, but she'd long wanted to take Rowenas place as a leader and this night he'd told her what he'd been up to. For some reason she'd just given a short, smug grin. They would continue their cooperation the two of them. Ofcourse, he wasn't planning on ending up the same way as his now dead boss. The two of them were going to work with real business, that involved real simoleons. Not some idiot mumbo- jumbo and sources of eternal youth.
First, they had to tie up some loose ends.
They're dead... he finally hung up on the good news, waiting to see another smug grin that never came: So what do you say? It's now or never... Nothing beat a good ol' clichè.
She had such a sweet little kitten voice: Deep cleaning?
Adam nodded, still having a bit of problem understanding how he'd been able to get all that information out of Oriana: Sounds good. Maybe a bit uncalled for, but it was better to be safe than sorry, since he'd already started using clichés. Just in case this Oriana had shared information about him with the sims around her: How do we....
No problem, she said again: They'll let me in. Just make sure the others aren't far behind. When they hear the first shot, they move in to. She wanted to be fast in and out again. The lack of planning could be a problem, but it was nothing they couldn't handle.
Adam felt he needed to warn her: There's some armychick with them....Rowenas sister I believe. He'd nearly croaked when he'd figured out who this "Meave" was. If she was anything like her golden- eyed sibling, they were in for a lot of trouble.
No problem, I'll take her out first.
What about the kids, and that other guys family?
She looked just as uncaring as earlier: No problem, I'll send Sylvie and her friends after them. Shouldn't be any problems there. Two adults and five children....
Adam nodded, that's what he'd figured out atleast.
Oriana had made everyone turn their phones off and stuff them in the hallway, including Joe. No more interruptions! Or so the idea had been, but when she heard the knock on the door she found herself beeing glad. Mainly because they were still acting like they knew everything, and that they also knew it better than her. Which was stupid!!
Even in the darkness outside, Oriana recognized the woman standing there, and what a welcomed surprise it was.
Hey Vera, Oriana let her into the house without hesitation, hugging her tight. It had been ages since they had seen eachother.
Hi Ori, she answered: How are you holding up? It was so typical of Vera to worry about her.
Hi everyone. Vera said with that sweet little kittenvoice that a lot of sims found annoying. Luckily she didn't need any introductions, everyone knew her after all.
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poses ag, pnmai, zhi, sunny, AG, Imho, Traelia, VKG, jasumi, ohoh, Woe, Morphead etc...(it ended up beeing to many to credit. Sorry)
Everyone knew there would be a fire. For all those "what?" moments that you have going on, I can tell you that I'll explain it later, I just want to wrap this part up first. I lost a bit of important things, when my computer broke down so I have to improvise a bit. The whole "beeing zen" thing to do magicstuff, is pretty common in fantasy litterature, if anyone reads that (no one reads that do they, it's just nerds like me).
The fairy is Lukas daughter, he and Iva had a thing going in generation 1. Which means that Skulds mum is fairyladys stepmum. And eternal life is a cliché, I know but it's the sims. Vera is a childhoodfriend of Orianas if anyone wonders where's she's coming from. Last seen in chapter 2.15. And Adam is the guy that has been feeding Oriana information.
Thanks for reading
