tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27865075262178474472024-02-18T21:46:02.804-06:00Secrets of the SixkillersIf we knew each others secrets,
what comforts we should find.
-John Churton CollinsShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.comBlogger181125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-90244478924897222582018-09-14T21:20:00.000-05:002018-09-14T21:20:17.445-05:00And then there's life.<br />
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:)<br />
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Sorry.<br />
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This is not the end.<br />
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This is an attempt to begin again. Slowly.<br />
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Life happened. Choices were made. Some of those choices had consequences we never thought we'd see. Some were good. Some... lol. Yeah. That does happen doesn't it?<br />
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Then <i>time</i> happened. Wounds are healing. We're learning. Growth is occurring. (OMG, the autistic one is taller than me now! Stop the growth!)<br />
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Without all the waffle? Once upon a time, in a town I live in, there was a very toxic person at Shakespeare's workplace. It was so toxic it was seeping it's poison into our own home. On top of some major executive functional issues with this blog (I cannot choose!) Then some criminal-type events happened, bingo bango, An opportunity presented itself.<br />
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This opportunity was wrapped nicely. It was proposed as a temporary part-time position with this toxic work person. Maybe, just maybe, I could make things better. I could be a shield and buffer between the toxic person and the rest of the work place until someone else could fill that position who didn't have such very sticky fingers.<br />
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But it turned out that I couldn't 'fix' this person and I never ever should have thought I could. The toxic cloud was threatening to send both of us on a path filled with regret. But I was too good at the position after only 4 months there <i>in their opinion</i>.<br />
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Neither the toxic person nor my supervisor wanted to find anyone else to do what I did. Customers called both praising my efficiency and attitude. Revenue increased. I hated it. So I told my supervisor I was quitting.<br />
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I'd hold out until they found someone to replace me, but that was it. I needed my safe little haven. The comforts and joys of being a stay at home mom blogging about her sims looked positively delightful. The supervisor offered a raise if I'd stay. I declined.<br />
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Several weeks passed and I noted my job was still not being opened up for applicants. Then one day, Shakespeare went in early. He called very shortly after arriving and told me to get in to work quickly. Something was happening.<br />
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They fired my boss. As soon as she left the premises my supervisor offered me my bosses job. I declined.<br />
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They told me, 'lulz. You don't seem to understand. You're the manager now. Byeeee.'<br />
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It was bad. Why use any other word? The thesaurus is filled with them. Go look them up, they all apply. There was no one to train me. My part time was now full time. I had little to no experience with almost everything and no one around who could help. But I've learned. I've adapted.<br />
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Adaptation takes time. It took a year for me to stop saying 'when things slow down again.' It took someone telling me 'this is now normal. There is no going back. Get used to it.' So we went forward and we're relearning survival. We're relearning what it means to be busy.<br />
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A local special needs support group began a small basketball get together for the kids. So Nathan now participates in basketball. We're so proud! He loves it.<br />
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Emma Lou is our ballerina extraordinaire. lol. In our heads. She works hard and we love her effort and passion for it. She positively sucks. We're so proud! She loves it.<br />
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And I did finally convince them to hire someone to help me out (after being completely on my own for 4 months.) Though right after I received my helper, they laid off Shakespeare's boss and handed those extra responsibilities over to him. He is now editor of 3 papers and sportswriter at ours. We don't see him as often as we'd like, but we're proud of him and how hard he works. He loves that we work in the same office. TBH? So do I.<br />
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Right now, we've managed to adapt so far that I've been able to begin simming again. Yay! Mariah and Roger are still there. The kids are, too. I still have a little executive dysfunction to get over (W<i>hich one brain</i>?!?) Okay. Maybe a lot. But I'm trying. I do read; I lurk a lot. Hopefully, partipation is coming.<br />
Thank you all so much for your patience.<br />
<3 Sunny <br />
<br />ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-18007370376196056342016-10-02T09:57:00.000-05:002016-10-05T07:56:22.618-05:00Chapter 3.19- The Empress<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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Mariah waved after her last customer. As an apprentice she was only allowed 4 readings a day. She sighed heavily and returned to the room behind her. 4 readings a day wasn’t nearly a tax on her, but she wouldn’t be on her own until her mentor felt she was competent enough in her abilities to not make a fool out of the Institute.
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“Oh, for PlumbBob’s sake, come on!” Mariah burst out upon seeing Christie. “It wasn’t that bad!”
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“Wanna bet?” Christie answered coldly. Which basically meant she’d never be competent enough in her abilities to finally earn her living around here.
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“Fine,” she returned wearily, dropping into the chair opposite her ‘mentor.’ “I’ll take the usual lecture today. Fries and coke on the side, please. In fact, SuperSize that Extra Value sermon! I’m not feeling <i>nearly</i> low enough<span style="font-family: inherit;">.</span>”
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“Your ‘schtick’? Is cold. If you really want your customers to warm up to you take a leaf out of your grandmothers book and dive in. Quit pinching fingers and start holding hands,” said Christie wearily. “I’m really tired of telling you this.”
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“Yeah, well I’m tired of hearing it,” Mariah bit back. “Obviously, it isn’t going to happen, so drop it.”
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“And here I thought you wanted to get out of my clutches to receive your own clientele as well as earn a living around here.”
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Having her own thoughts constantly parroted back to her was as old as Christie’s criticisms and Mariah had finally had enough.
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“I.Don’t.Like.People.To.TOUCH.Me! I understand you think my grandmother was wonderful, but let me enlighten <i>you</i> for once. That old witch was just that. And it’s because of <i>her</i> that no one touches me without my permission!”
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Mariah had risen, bending over the table. Across from her? Christie chuckled coldly.
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“Oh, the irony there. Sit down before I have you written up and sent back to classes.”
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But Mariah’s line had been crossed. Baring her teeth she prepared to launch into the tirade of a lifetime.
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“You want to <i>earn a living?</i> Sit down.” Christie’s voice had become deadly quiet, her eyes wide.
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Mariah inhaled. She wanted nothing more than to get Christie out of her life. She owned the place. She didn’t have to have this as a job along the way. If she really wanted, she could fire Christie! In fact, that’s just what she should do to get the bitch out of her life!
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“I want you out of my life as much as you do, but my help only extends as far as you’re willing to take it. If you really want the Institute to succeed, if you really want to turn the Institute around to the point you don’t <i>need</i> this job, I’m your best bet and you <i>won’t</i> fire me. Now Sit.Down.”
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Glaring for all she was worth Mariah fell into her chair with as little grace as she could manage.
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“Good girl.”
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“I am not a dog.”
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“No. But neither are you a psychic.”
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“Teach me then!”
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“I’ve been trying. You refuse to listen.”
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“I don’t touch people!”
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“Pity. It seems we’ve come full circle, too.”
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Mariah groaned, on the verge of frustrated tears.
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“There <i>has</i> to be something else I can do! Something that doesn’t involve getting physically chummy with everyone who walks in the door!”
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“There are plenty of jobs you’re legitimately capable of doing. You’re the one who chose to take an interest here.”
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“I did Not choose this place! It was chosen for me by-”
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“-No! It was never her ‘choice!’ You have a whole world open to you. This was your choice. And you choose to be a failure at it.”
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGKoM_y-abaARadaiCoJn64Mj1RhaHo195Dbsp9TrfYpGC8U8_4ZW5x3-gSNYMrSVtZKdu4ohVJg8R-nFDdHr63cCqWi4hVY2BRW-kj-6XREC4pfhhgmmCsYwbRx-3NK4NcSxBSNrja5L/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGKoM_y-abaARadaiCoJn64Mj1RhaHo195Dbsp9TrfYpGC8U8_4ZW5x3-gSNYMrSVtZKdu4ohVJg8R-nFDdHr63cCqWi4hVY2BRW-kj-6XREC4pfhhgmmCsYwbRx-3NK4NcSxBSNrja5L/s640/Screenshot-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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“I am not a failure.”
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“Then prove it.”
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Prove it? When Christie should be the one begging her for… Oooooooh…
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“Fine. I’ll prove it. Help me find a way around it, help me succeed, genuinely, and I will make sure both you and Ruben keep your job when Delphine finds out her boyfriend got her best psychic pregnant.”
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She’d expected Christie to blanch, to gasp in horror, to blush and stammer or to fall to her knees thanking her for her generosity. Instead, like a Cheshire, her lips slowly curled into a smile.
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“About time.”
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“What?”
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“I’d almost given up hope that you’d offer to partner with me.”
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“I am not-”
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“-Without me, this place will wither away. Delphine’s abilities are too <span style="font-family: inherit;">pathetic</span> to sort through the real and the fake. Her eyes are closed to the truth of the world she lives in. Without you, the business remains undirected and without the reputation your grandmother gave it. The Institute would eventually close its doors, bankrupt and exposed. You along with it.”
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Mariah stared, jaw open, trying to follow Christie’s reasoning.
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“You need a real psychic to fake your way into a business that relies on your name. I need the business to give me a wider, more landed client base. It’s quite simple really.”
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“Why cover for me then? Why be so horrible to me? Why didn’t you just propose a partnership in the first place?”
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“Oh, don’t feel so special. I’m horrible to everyone. I hate people.”
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“Ruben?”
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“Even Ruben. He’s an idiot. Just a pretty one. Why didn’t I propose this in the beginning? Because the time wasn’t right. Why cover for you?” Christie paused, weighing Mariah in her gaze. “Because you’re my Empress.”
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“Your Empress?”
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Christie looked thoroughly provoked. “Yes! Like the card, stupid. I had you pull a card the first time we met, trying to see exactly what your influence on my life would be. You pulled the Empress. You’re my Empress. You will guide and lead not just me but all in the Institute. You know <i>what to do</i> without knowing <i>how</i> to do what you have to do, what you <i>must</i> do. You’re the exception to the rule. You’re in between my beginning and my ending. But you can’t be any of that, without me.”
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Head whirling, Mariah took a deep breath. She was missing something.
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“So you are offering to help me in exchange for me helping you?”
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“Yes,” Christie answered placidly.
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“Once again, why didn’t you offer to begin with?” Mariah was so weary of Christie that she’d also become wary of her.
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“Because I needed you to know just how much you needed me.”
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Sitting back hard in her seat, Mariah surveyed Christie.
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She was right. She really did need Christie. The Institute attracted truth seekers from around the nation, not just around town and she’d not be able to fool those she didn’t know very well. Christie would be able to weed out the fakers who applied to the Institute’s school, which would only raise their reputation. If Mariah could emulate Christie’s method, she’d be able to pass herself off much more credibly as she worked her way toward making the Institute great again.
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“Once the partnership has outlived its usefulness- As in, when one of us is no longer an asset to the profitability of the Institute- our agreement will automatically dissolve so neither holds the other back. How about it partner?”
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Christie’s hand was proffered. It was the first time Mariah had witnessed such a friendly gesture from her. It was also a reminder that she wanted Mariah to <i>touch</i> people. Fine.
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Spitting into her palm, she slapped it into Christie’s, holding on tight as she suppressed her gag reflex.
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“Because you need me. <i>Partner.</i>”
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The trapeze artists were a little <i>too</i> good. They floated just a little too far across open space. They stayed suspended at the top of their arcs a few seconds too long. Their smiles were a little too bored. Their routine was a bit too complex. And it was freaking.Vivia.Out. And what was up with the floor?!?
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Was it a floor? Was it a pit? Would one of them fall with gruesome results? Or would the unfortunate aerial acrobat simply plunge, fading slowly as they fell forever? Or maybe they’d fall back through the ceiling like in those cartoons her dad showed her?
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However, even if one of them fell Vivia wouldn’t see it.
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Beside her, Dove gave an exaggerated yawn.
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“Oh, don’t be such a ninny,” Dove said
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“I am not a ninny,” Vivia parted her fingers just enough to peep through to prove she wasn’t scared.
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“Then put your hands down, ninny.” Dove replied. “The circus isn’t going to let them fall. They’re wearing harnesses that will stop them and there’s a net to catch them.”
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“There are? I don’t see nothin’.” Vivia looked wildly about for strings, wires, steel beams, anything that might prove the flyers were being protected.
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“Of course you don’t see them! Duh! If you saw them it would ruin the illusion,” Dove was thoroughly exasperated by now. “I know they’re there because they hafta take care of their employees. Besides, if one of them died, Taylor would hafta arrest them for not being responsible enough.”
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Vivia glanced down to where Taylor sat sandwiched between her new bestie, Mom, and her new girlfriend, someone or other, it might have rhymed with mess, or maybe it was Beth, Heather? She was called Something anyway, and was slightly mollified. Taylor had a way about her that brought calm out of chaos. Like the day when dad brought his new girlfriend over? Wow, that was- What was that word Dove just used? Losin’? What would ruin losing? Wasn’t that already kind of no fun?
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“-Besides,” wait. Dove was still talking? Vivia had missed most of it. She’d better pay attention again or Dove would get grumpy. “There’s no other way those people could do half of what they’re doing if there wasn’t something holding them up. I mean, he could have dropped her! As it is, he only caught her at the very last second. I bet he could have broke her back.”
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Sparing a glance at the black pit, half afraid to see someone still falling through space, Vivia could see Dove’s point. How’d that guy get the lady there? Then she remembered.
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“Ceeven says it’s magic.”
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Eyes nearly rolling out of her head, Dove scoffed.
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“Ceeven believes in the Sim in the Moon, too.”
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“But even Abyn says this circus has magic!”
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“Oh! Well if <i>Abyn</i> says it…”
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“I like Abyn.” Smiling, Vivia turned to<span style="font-family: inherit;"> the girl sitting <span style="font-family: inherit;">between her and Ceeven</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">. Abyn had <span style="font-family: inherit;">been al<span style="font-family: inherit;">lowed to tag along so Mariah could get to know <span style="font-family: inherit;">her son</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">’</span></span>s new best friend better</span></span></span></span>.
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“I only like her because she made Ceeven shut up about that stupid Poppy,” Dove snorted. “I mean, look at how she’s dressed!</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> A</span>nd her hair!</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">”</span></span></div>
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“She is pretty isn’t she?”
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“No, Vivia. And she’s dumb. Why else would she hang out with Ceeven?”
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“That’s not nice.”
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“I don’t care about being nice to <i>her.</i> Besides, what kind of name is Abyn? It’s a perfect name for someone who hangs out with our baby brother with frumpy, too big, <span style="font-family: inherit;">ugly</span> clothes, who doesn’t brush her hair and who believes in magic.”
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Vivia scratched her head. “Well, she said her mom was a real airy fairy. So maybe she named her? And then it would be a magic name!”
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“No, Vivia,” Dove sighed. “Fairies aren’t real. Magic isn’t real. Abyn is dumb. And ‘Airy Fairy’ is just another way of saying someone is kinda stupid. ”
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Vivia frowned at her sister’s assessment.
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In front of them, the lady did a flip over her bar before launching herself toward the other.
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“Well, I like her,” Vivia stated firmly. “I think she’s nice. And I think having a fairy mom would be cool. And I think it’s great Ceeven has a new friend!”
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Beside her, Dove cracked up.
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“Says the girl who has never met a stranger!”
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Vivia was puzzled. How could you meet a stranger? Once you met them, didn’t that make them your friend? When she couldn’t work herself out of the knot she reverted to happy thoughts about Ceeven and Abyn as the two male flyers reappeared.
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“Maybe one day they’ll get married!”
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“Oh, PlumbBob Viv!” Dove blurted out.
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Vivia cast a wary eye at their mother. She’d never heard Dove swear before.
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“Mom doesn’t care,” Dove snipped defiantly. “Besides, I’m almost a grown up now. I can say it.”
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Still frowning, Vivia nodded a little.
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“Now they’re just juggling themselves,” Dove grumped under her breath.
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Vivia watched the three tumbling over each other in the air. They kinda were juggling themselves. Like three balls. Sometimes people were cannonballs. But snowballs were her favorite ball. Maybe it would still be snowing when the show was over. Then they could have hot chocolate!
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“Maybe those two getting married would be a good thing,” Dove finally piped back up.
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“I think it would be wonderful,” Vivia gushed, abruptly brought back to the present. “But you’ll have to be nice and not scare her away.”
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There was a split second where Vivia worried Dove might take her suggestion wrong, but instead she turned to grin at her.
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“You might be right,” she conceded. “And even if they don’t get married, at least Abyn is better than Poppy. No one can tease him about Abyn being imaginary.”
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Vivia’s heart swelled. It always made her happy when someone else wanted to see someone else happy. Or was it that she wanted… oh, forget it. Dove was promising to be nice!
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“No one can tease him. Or her. It’ll be wonderful.”
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Huge huge thanks to the simmers who provided my Trapeze Artists! I had a ton of fun dressing them up and playing with their hair and then throwing them around like rag dolls. Lol. <br />
So Thanks to HeatherFeather for Moze Diffy! <br />
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Thanks to Skyegal19 for Cooper Starling!<br />
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And thanks to Toxi for Alexei Cuckobell!<br />
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Since the crowd is huge (*GASP*kaffkaff*UNDERSTATEMENT*kaffkaff*) The Spot My Sim feature is up on the bloopers tab, as well as the trapeze artists’ full routine (and an actual Blooper!) I didn’t add a huge number of sims to the crowd this time. But if you're still looking to Spot Your Sim in the crowd, there are opportunities to come.<br />
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Ignore the physics defying ropes, please. A physicist I am not. lol<br />
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Anyway, as to story. Hinthinthinthinthint. That’s all you’ll get. While most of the hints are for much later on, there are one or two up there for the present. And of course, which ones are red herrings? =D After that, Dove is a work in progress. She loves Ceeven dearly and is extremely frustrated at how he opens himself up to criticism. Kids just don't deal with frustration well.<br />
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I probably don’t need to explain <i>why</i> this one took so long to get out. Haha. But a funny did happen while I worked on it. A horse named Sunny tried to eat the shirt off my back. No joke. My son is still laughing that horse Sunny then got mad at this Sunny when he found out my shirt wasn’t made of apples and sugar cubes. How rude of me! LolShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-11006705250712264032016-07-14T21:59:00.001-05:002016-07-19T14:23:28.038-05:00Chapter 3.18- A Sign of Peace<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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“This shouldn’t take long,” Taylor clicked the pen she held in one hand. “What is your connection to Andre Parker?”
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Mariah’s head still spun. Roger had walked into the door not five minutes ago announcing his return. She’d barely registered when he told her Taylor was on her way to ask her a few questions.
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“Uhm, he’s, uhm,” Mariah blinked, shaking her head trying to catch up to the moment. “He’s the father of my oldest child. You know this.”
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“Yes,” Taylor barely glanced up from scribbling on the note pad. “Yes, but this is for the official record. We need to make sure we’re covering all bases.”
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“When was the last time you had any contact with him?”
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Closing her eyes hard, Mariah rubbed them furiously, hoping to get a clue. “Uuuh, I think, gosh,” she panted. “It’s been a really really long time.”
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Roger scoffed, sharpening Mariah’s focus considerably. Ah. They were back to this then. Okay. Fine.
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“The last time I <i>saw</i> Andre was the night after high school graduation. Over 9 years ago now. The last time I had <i>any</i> contact with him was almost 9 years ago.” She put as much venom in her words as she could. Roger would have to get it through his thick head that she was NOT in love with Andre, much less in contact with him!
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“What’s going on, Taylor? Roger only told me you’d be here to ask a few questions after asking me where Andre is. I’m really in the dark here.”
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Taylor, glanced up again. There it was in her eyes. Taylor really didn’t care much for her. Why?
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“He was reported as a missing person about a week ago.”
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“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry to hear that! Is foul play suspected?” Did anyone other than cops on TV talk like that? It felt stupid once Mariah said it.
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“Were you aware that Andre intended a visit to Appaloosa Plains before his disappearance?” Taylor ignored the awkward question.
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“No. Like I said, we’re not in contact any longer. As far as I know, he didn’t know his daughter was alive.”
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This time Taylor’s gaze hit Roger, who had the decency to look slightly abashed.
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“Would you know anyone else in town he might have been coming to visit?”
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“Uhm, Kelci? Kelci Jenner? Maybe? I dunno.”
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The corners of Roger’s mouth rose fractionally and his eyes softened. Even Taylor smiled sadly.
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“Kelci Parker?”
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“Oh,” Mariah nodded to herself. “I didn’t know they’d married. But I guess I should have known.”
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The scratching of the pen on paper stopped.
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“Why should you have known?”
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Whoops. Not the time to go there.
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“Maybe because he wouldn’t leave her for me, the mother of his child, so long ago?”
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“Was this recently?”
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“Dove’s going on 9. No. Didn’t we already go over the whole ‘it’s been a really long time since I’ve seen him’ bit?”
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“Just trying to find a missing person, Ms.Sixkiller.”
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“Perhaps he was on his way here to visit his parents. They still live in town,” Mariah offered.
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This time, Taylor looked at her with something akin to pity.
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“We’ve already talked to them,” Taylor clicked her pen closed. “I have no further questions, but I do want to issue a warning for you off the record.”
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Bracing herself, Mariah took half a step back.
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“Andre might not have been aware of Dove, but for whatever reason, his mother has half guessed she might have a grandchild in town. I suggest you brace yourself, and Dove, for a visit once they find out we came by here.”
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As Taylor made her exit, Mariah got a hand on Roger’s arm.
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“Mind explaining why you just had me questioned?” she hissed at him.
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His shoulders slumped a little. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “Guess we might as well talk now. Let’s sit.”
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Waiting for him to begin, she had a hard time reining in her patience. He was home! <i>And</i> he was still hung on the non-existent possibility that she might still be in love with Andre. Jackass.
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“I didn’t tell you this, but Andre was working for Tex too,” Roger started apologetically. “You know what I did. Andre managed the casino Tex used to launder the money we made him, and we know that on some level Andre was at the very least aware of what was going on and we suspect much more.”
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Suddenly, he shot her a fiery look. “You don’t know any of this.”
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“I never have known any of what you’re doing, Rog,” she soothed with a sneer, annoyed at how far his trust with her had been broken. “No one will hear it from me.”
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“Yeah,” Roger sighed. “Anyway, we thought we were finally closing in on Tex’s supplier and thought we might finally get a chance to shut that entire ring down but something happened.”
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“The casino hadn’t been doing as well as Tex would have liked under Andre’s reigns. He was too busy schmoozing, wanted to run for mayor of Lucky Palms or something on his way toward becoming Leader of SimNation. He’d gotten careless with managing profits especially and the feds were getting suspicious, that’s how Kelly got involved.”
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“Wait. Kelly is a fed?”
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“She’s an agent, yes. And Tex finally figured out that the feds <i>should</i> be suspicious and didn’t see them clearly so he came in one day and shut the whole thing down. He wanted us to clean the entire warehouse out and up with instructions on where to meet up across the border with his goods. But this was all the front end of the chain, on the back end, Andre had disappeared three days before and Tex was a little too blasé about it.”
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“We figured he suspected Andre was his mole,” Roger continued. “But Kelly was really freaking out. Devi, Tex’s mistress, had been suspicious of her for a while. Then you’ve got that I can’t cross the border, Kelly could. She was also worried that I was a little too close to Andre’s disappearance for my own good. She said it was to protect me from having to explain awkward things to LPPD later, but she phoned my supervisor and told him that I had outside connections to Andre that might lead to a conflict of interest if I continued to follow Tex. So here I am. I had Taylor question you because she’s the detective on the case here in Appaloosa Plains. I also needed to make sure there isn’t a shadow of a doubt that I was not involved. I’ll get a ton more respect from the force here for my experience, but if there are rumors I did something to my baby mama’s ex I won’t get to go as far as I’d like. Sorry.”
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Mariah’s head spun. If that was a short explanation, she’d hate to hear the long one.
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“So what about your relationship with Kelly then?” she asked. Totally not for her own reasons. Sure.
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“She’s gone,” he whispered. Mariah had seen that look before. He was heartbroken and while she was still very annoyed with him she couldn’t find fault with him for that. “She felt it would be best. Long distance is one thing, but she didn’t think she could keep it up internationally and undercover.”
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“I’m so sorry,” somehow, she almost meant it.
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“I want the kids every other weekend.”
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Her head snapped up. That was a 180. After how he’d just blindsided her with his own mistrust, what made him think he could trust her now? Or just waltz in and take her babies? And that camping trip? The half-truths and a very hurt Dove? Nope. Not happening.
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“No.” <i>You will NOT get my kids without some ground rules about who sees them buddy!</i>
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“I want my kids, Mariah.”
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“They don’t know you.” <i>And they sure won’t know you if you’re too busy playing with another woman!</i>
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“They will.”
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“No,” she said firmly and his face hardened. “They don’t know you. If you’d like, you can start coming once a week after school, and a couple of hours on weekends for at least a month. Then we’ll talk about you seeing them more often.” <i>In MY HOUSE. With MY RULES. About MY KIDS. While I’M around!</i>
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“You promise?”
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“Pinky swear if you want to,” she quipped, offering her little finger. <i>I’ll break each and every one of your fingers if any of the kids come home complaining about some new girlfriend.</i>
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“Nah,” he relaxed into a smile. “Nah, I believe you.” <i>You shouldn’t.</i>
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“I believe it’s called co-parenting. They <i>do</i> need to know their dad.” <i>But not your next booty call!</i>
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“Can I have Dove, too? When the time comes?”
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“Of course! Unless they find Andre and he objects that is. The kids belong together.” <i>With me!</i>
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Roger chuckled, nodding. “Alright.”
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Roger had held true to his promise of allowing the kids to get to know him better, arriving each Monday as soon as the bus dropped the three off. Yesterday’s visit had been a particular triumph for him. For the first time since the camping trip Dove had begun to warm to him again. It was because of that Mariah thought it might have been him at the door, even though it wasn’t his day to come.
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Instead, the face through the window nearly stopped her in her tracks. It couldn’t be, but the person on the other side looked just like the missing Andre.
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The closer she got, the more convinced she was it couldn’t be him and her heart stopped racing. This man wasn’t as tall, his face wider and more lined, his hair lighter than ever Andre’s was.
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“Can I help you?” she asked, hoping for once in her life the couple in front of her might be religious peddlers. She had no use for The Watcher or His PlumbBob and slamming the door in someone’s face would give her an unusual amount of satisfaction right now. However, she wouldn’t get that pleasure today.
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The woman looked up and the man took a deep breath, narrowing his eyes a little.
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“I believe you’re the mother of our grandchild,” he said. Next to him, the woman nodded slowly.
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Mariah closed her eyes, steeling her nerves. Taylor had warned her this day would be coming; she hadn’t thought it would be this soon.
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With a sigh she nodded herself.
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“Dove,” she answered. “Her name is Dove. Please. Come in.”
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Leading them into the house, she indicated a loveseat for them while she took the other. No one spoke. No sounds were heard. The kids were upstairs playing so quietly you wouldn’t have known they were in the house. Mariah would have paid for a year’s supply of ice cream for dessert had one of the twins noisily raced down the stairs at that moment. Instead, she was left to feel the awkwardness of the situation while she scrambled to find the right way to start a conversation with Dove’s <i>other</i> family.
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“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last. These people must hate her now they knew about her Dove. How she’d kept them from her while living in the very same town. Long ago, Mariah had taken pains to find out where they worked, where they preferred to eat out, what route they took while jogging all to make sure she could keep Dove out of their sight for as long as possible.
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And now they knew of her, like Roger, they would try to take one of her most precious treasures. Their judgement of her was nothing compared to their intended crime against her.
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“We haven’t given up hope they’ll find him, dear,” Andre’s mother replied at last. “We’re actually more curious about Dove. Is that what you said her name is?”
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Mariah nodded without looking up.
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“The police questioned you because you have his daughter? Dove is his daughter?”
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Once again Mariah was only able respond with a silent consent.
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“I don’t want to be rude, or appear ugly, but you are positively sure this is Andre’s child?”
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This got her full attention at once.
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“I’m positive,” she answered harshly. “I notified him when I found out I was pregnant. He acknowledged that Dove was his as well.”
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The couple exchanged glances; a spark of excitement along with a hint of incredulity mixed with their mirrored surprise.
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“I saved that last letter from him, if you’d like to see it,” she offered. “The folds are a little delicate from the years and it has a-”
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“-No, nono,” the woman interrupted as his face softened. “No, that’s not necessary right now. We believe you. Uhm…”
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Again the two looked at each other, this time he appeared to be urging her on.
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“I’ve seen her. She has my nose and her father’s hair color,” she continued. “I’d noticed her while the circus was in town. We’d taken one of our grandsons, Amber’s son, while they were in town. Patrick took him while I-I’m sorry for this but you didn’t seem to notice me-I followed you. I knew who you were, and when I saw Dove I remembered something your grandmother told me that I’d thought impossible.”
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“I was one of your grandmother’s clients and she once told me we’d have a relative in common, a female, an eternal sign of peace between our families,” she said. At her side Patrick nodded benignly. “When you and Andre worked on that project in high school I just knew he would break up with Kelci for you for this to happen. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was when it didn’t happen. Or so I thought.”
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“Cassandra and I have been wondering: Were you a couple <i>while</i> he dated Kelci?” Patrick finally spoke again.
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Mariah sighed heavily. She really didn’t know these people and airing her sins out to them was not something she wanted to do. Besides, their son was missing; telling them how horrible he was most likely wouldn’t go well for her.
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“Yeah,” she said shortly. “Before he left for college we were still secretly seeing each other. It ended when he left town.”
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“And you told him you were pregnant with his child and he agreed it was his?” Patrick prompted.
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“Look,” Mariah stated. “Look, Cassandra? Patrick? Is that right?”
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Both nodded.
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“Andre is missing, correct?”
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Again, both heads bobbed an acknowledgement.
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“If they find him, do you really want to know all of this?”
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“We want to know our grandchild,” Patrick stated.
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“We know Andre isn’t perfect,” Cassandra gave her a sad smile. “C’mon, Mariah. We’ve already found out his job might not have been legitimate, that he was eyeball deep in debt to some very shady characters and that he had a secret love child. I think we can handle whatever you tell us about who he really is.”
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“He wasn’t… <i>entirely</i> aware of Dove,” Mariah said haltingly, casting about for words that didn’t want to come. “I told him I was pregnant pretty early on, but I didn’t hear back from him for months. Finally, when I was in the third trimester he wrote me back. He’d sent me some cash and insisted I abort her. That he didn’t want her, or me, or ever want to see either of us.”
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Cassandra gasped, a hand flying to her mouth in horror while Patrick’s eyes went round as coins.
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“He also stridently urged me to keep both the pregnancy, and his involvement, a secret. In particular, I don’t think he wanted Kelci or her dad to find out. But I’m also fairly positive he didn’t want either of you to know. Or his sister. I doubt he knew that I’d carried her to term. Or that she’s healthy and alive at all.”
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“I’m very very sorry to be the one to tell you this,” Mariah finished lamely. “It must be hard for both of you to hear such things.”
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A tear slipped down Cassandra’s cheek. Patrick bowed his head. The brittle hush wouldn’t be interrupted by Mariah. The dead needed to stay dead. <i>Why won’t Abuella stay dead??? Yet again Abuella Sabria had meddled in my life. The old bat.</i>
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“I wish you would have told us anyway,” Cassandra finally whispered. “That’s our grandbaby.” Patrick nodded solemnly.
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“She’s here,” Mariah offered, defeated by her empathy. “She’s home from school and is probably playing with her brother and sister upstairs.”
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Both brightened, a smile nearly appearing on Patrick’s face. Perhaps he could sense what she was about to offer against her better judgement.
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She sighed, internally wincing at her words. “Would you like to meet her?”
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At this Cassandra beamed and both squeezed the other, nodding away.
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“How old is she?” Cassandra asked.
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“A very grown up 9,” Mariah managed a small smile. “I’ll go get her.”
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A few moments later, she had walked her oldest down stairs, marching her up to her new relatives.
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Cassandra beamed, clasping her hands together and crying. Patrick somehow managed to be too stiff and formal for the moment.
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“Dove,” Mariah began, but she wasn’t allowed to finish.
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“I’m your Mimi! Mimi Cass! And this is your GrandDad Pat.” Cassandra gushed at Dove.
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Dove had shot her mom a single wondering look when the other two adults fell on her, enveloping her in a tight embrace.
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“Our darling Dove! We’re so glad to meet you!” Cassandra’s voice wavered as both adults held Dove tightly, patting her back, stroking her hair, crying.
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Mariah felt a twinge of sadness amidst her annoyance at the scene. Dove couldn’t be her exclusive property any longer. It was the beginning of the end. Roger wanted his kids, and after such a maudlin show of emotion at their meeting these two would claim grandparents rights and she’d have no choice but to allow visits.
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Mariah snuck around behind the trio on her floor. A box of tissues in the kitchen would be sorely needed after all this blubbering.
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Once she was around the group she turned to glance at her Dove’s face and decided to stop altogether.
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Maybe she wouldn’t have to worry about sharing Dove so much after all.
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Dove stood ramrod straight. And the look on her face?
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Was priceless.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>Sorry that was so long, but a lot of explanation was needed. There will be even more explanation next time. Though from a different direction and about other matters. lol <br />
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So! Who remembers Cassandra from the circus crowd? :D (<a href="http://secretsofthesixkillers.blogspot.com/2016/02/chapter-315-time-to-move-on.html">3.15-Time to Move on</a>) Go back and look for her if you’d like. Dove drew Cassandra’s notice during Ori’s fire dance though she’d been following them since the Illusionist’s show and only lost them briefly before the Contortionists appeared. <br />
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(For anyone wondering about the inlaws eating crow- It took Hubs’ grandmother chewing them all out to get it, but in the end they were most gracious with their apologies. For days. xD [Well, almost all of them-MIL still had to both discount it and take credit for the turn around all in one breath to any random relative that would give her an ear. The old bat.])
ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-29797264197161788582016-05-20T21:59:00.001-05:002016-05-20T21:59:44.295-05:00Chapter 3.17- Half Answer<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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“The Sun upright-Oops. No. It’s only upright to me. Okay. The Sun <i>reversed</i> in this position-”6
weeks of studying the tarot through the classes Appaloosa Plains Spiritualist Institute offered were
nearly at an end. Approaching the lessons in much the same manner she’d approached high school
projects had taken Mariah far. Even if she failed this test spectacularly she should still receive a
passing grade.
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“The Hanged Man before an Outcome of The Ten Of Swords suggests the querent realizes they
need to let go, but are frightened that by doing so it could spell the end-”
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This would be a lot easier if Christie would stop drumming the table top with her fiery fake
fingernails. <i>Clickclickclickclickclick.</i> Over and Over. Mariah entertained a brief vision of
pulling them out of their sockets with pliers while taking a deep breath between cards. It also would
have been much easier had Christie allowed Mariah to lay the cards out. Christie had shuffled them.
Christie had dealt them. And when she laid them out she’d laid them out so they were upright to
<i>her</i> and upside down to Mariah.
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“However, after every ending is a new beginning. The beginning suggested by the Ace of Wands,
clearly a pregnancy, could mean that by letting go of their fears regarding becoming a parent, the
querent will gain a sunrise brighter and more vibrant than the sunset they are currently witnessing.”
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Christie said nothing at Mariah’s conclusion.
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And continued to say nothing for far
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far
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<i>far</i>
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“Mediocre. Though you passed the exam, you lack depth and clarity. Your reading was flat and
uninspired.” Christie deigned to speak at last.
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“But it was correct. As I understand it, The Institute, by <i>my</i> Abuella’s instructions, really only
uses Tarot to supplement readings. If my reading lacks depth and clarity, my sight will make up for
it.”
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“Your grandmother mentioned nothing, not one word, about you having a gift of sight.” Christie had
taken to drumming her fingers on the desk again.
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“Abuella wouldn’t have confided in anyone like <i>you.</i>” Mariah snorted back.
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“Ha!” It was Christie’s turn for derision. Her nostrils flared, malice glittered in her eyes, her cheeks
quivering with her finally exposed anger. “As if she needed to ‘confide’ in anyone! It’s all in her
papers and diaries written for anyone with eyes to see. Not one of her prophecies says you have
any abilities at all. As far as I can tell, you’ve nothing more than a head for business and a lucky
hunch. But you’ll be exposed one day. Not just as a fraud of a psychic but each and every one of
your sins will be in a spotlight seen across all of SimNation. Delphine and her flatterers might
choose to interpret the entry differently, but I have no need for such rudiments. I know because I
have Seen it!”
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There it was. Christie’s jibe had found its target. Mariah could feel the blood drain from her face,
but was careful to keep her incredulous expression in place. Still, Christie seemed to know her work
was nearly done. In an instant she had transformed back into her usual unperturbed self, sinking
deep into her seat.
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“You should ask Ruben about Sabria’s papers, find the entry regarding yourself,” she said as
carelessly, low and quietly as ever. “It’s all in the library. After that, you have the rest of this week
off. When you return, you’ll report to me for your 8 weeks as an apprentice before Delphine will
allow you clients of your own. Congrats, Mariah. I’m your mentor.”
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“I’m sorry,” Ruben, the librarian for The Institute’s modest collection of books, repeated. “But I’m
not supposed to give students access to Mrs.Guerra’s archives without a note from their teacher or
mentor.”
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Still frustrated that there were now two people in her world who could see straight through her,
Mariah wasn’t about to back down. This poor kid was about to feel her wrath.
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“Listen, I am <i>not</i> just a student asking out of curiosity, or with intent to make them public, or
who wants to destroy them,” Mariah’s teeth were barred and Ruben had taken several steps away
from her. “There are papers in there directly related to me. Me! And I want to see them! Now!”
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“I’m sorry-” he dared to say again, rolling his eyes.
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“-Fine. You want to play that way? I own this library. Own it. <i>It’s mine.</i> And because of that, I
own those papers. <i>They’re</i> mine. Want to get nit-picky? I own <i>you</i>! Want to keep your
job? Bring.Me.Her.Papers!”
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Ruben stared slack jawed, eyes round with wonder. He’d finally woken up enough to stop
apologizing, though not enough to move.
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“NOW!” Mariah barked making him gasp before scurrying off. Mariah snorted before following him,
taking the box he finally produced to a desk to examine it’s contents.
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It took her several minutes to figure out just what a large task she had in front of her. The box
contained about 10 volumes filled with the familiar cramped and elegant hand of her grandmother.
The books were organized almost like diaries, with entries of visions and prophecies dated
chronologically. She’d have loved to ask Ruben for guidance whenever he’d come near to dust or
pretend to straighten the books, but he glared at her each time she met his eye and she figured she
might not have made a friend of him.
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The sun was low in the windows before she finally found what she was looking for.
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“Of the second generation, born of great love, a daughter will arise. Dark and suspicious, her
passions will be applied to my greatest work. Her efforts and skill will make the center rise as the
morning sun. Notoriety will ensure her work lasts.” There followed a date, the day she’d walked in
to find Delphine waiting on her then the words “Before Lunch.” <i>Mariah Renee Sixkiller</i> had
been written in another hand, slipped into the margins beside the too short entry.
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Mariah quickly read the next few pages looking for more. However, Christie had used the word
‘entry.’ Single not plural. Perhaps this half answer really was all there was to it.
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This brief note made by that old witch had caused such a stir within the walls of The Institute? The
idea made Mariah roll her eyes. The thought that this small passage had made such an impact on
her own life, however, wasn’t so easy to put aside.
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Psychics, Seers, Mediums? They were all the same; Con Artists out to make a quick buck. Every one
who’d put any stock into her grandmothers words was a fool. But the biggest fool of them all was
Mariah. After all, she’d played right into it.
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Dove and Vivia’s giggling made her smile. The girls were having a fantastic time tearing her jewelry
box apart in search of accessories for their Spooky Day costumes.
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“I know sweetie,” she tried to soothe Ceeven. “Just hold very still and try not to squint so I can get
it.”
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Tiger Ceeven had an eyelash threatening to undo her careful make up job.
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“I’ll try, Mama.”
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“Tha’s it! I need it.” Vivia exclaimed. “Oooh, where’s the other one?”
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“Sorry, Mama.” Ceeven murmured gently. He’d jumped at his sister’s outburst making her finger rub
under his eye.
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“It’s okay. It didn’t smudge too bad. I’ll be able to fix it in a jiffy.”
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“Have you seen other one for this?” Dove chimed in.
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“I dunno. Nooo, I don’ think so. It’s pretty though. Ask Mom.”
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“Nah, I’ll look again.”
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Curiosity finally got the best of Mariah. “What are you two scavengers looking for?” she asked as
she put the finishing touch on Ceeven’s stripes.
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“This,” Vivia turned, presenting a white glove to her mom.
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Mariah wanted to laugh. “What do you need my white gloves for?”
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“Duh, Rabbits has paws that match their fur! See my boots?” Vivia held a leg out, wiggling her
footwear to make sure her mom wouldn’t miss them.
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“Ah! I see. Well, if the other glove isn’t in there, I’m not sure where it might be,” she answered,
slightly concerned. “Dove? What is it you’re looking for?”
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“Earring.”
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“Could I see which one? I didn’t know I had one missing.”
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Dove joined Vivia in presenting her one sided find.
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Mariah blinked, frowning at the earring Dove presented. A teardrop shaped sapphire winked up from
Dove’s hand. The set it belonged to had been in the family for several generations. If one of the
earrings were missing Mariah would be super upset.
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“Oh. Well, I could look and see if they’re hiding in my jewelry box, or I could finish getting Dove’s
hair fixed and we could start Trick or Treating.”
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Vivia and Dove stopped pouting immediately, both girls eager to beg for candy.
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The obligatory costume pic was hurriedly taken before the kids could begin their squabbling over
where to start begging for candy in earnest. Delphine’s family had just adopted a new pony and the
girls wanted to go there first to meet it. Ceeven was afraid of horses and would rather go to Taylor’s
house first. Taylor might not be Roger’s partner any longer, but she kept up with the kids when she
could and took an especial interest in Ceeven.
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Despite this, Mariah still couldn’t shake the feeling that Taylor disapproved of her. It was something
she’d sensed long before he’d broken up with her and she was still baffled by it.
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Electing to go to Delphine’s first was the easy part. Ceeven clutched her skirts, turning around
completely when the pony roamed too close to him. From out of nowhere he pulled out his still
contentious doll, Poppet, hugging it tightly. At least she’d managed to talk him out of wearing his
scarf with his costume. Though it had taken two weeks of begging to get him to agree it could stand
to be washed.
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When Delphine finally appeared, Mariah had to hide her laughter. She was so used to seeing her in
pantsuits and makeup that this casual version of Delphine was odd.
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Mariah had tried to give a friendly smile and wave when Taylor appeared at her door several streets
and dozens of houses later. Taylor didn’t return the wave and looked at her so strangely she was
finally forced to drop her hand without receiving any other acknowledgment. Maybe next year she
could talk Roger into taking the night off to take the kids Trick of Treating for a change. At least
they’d be able to finish soon. Taylor had loaded the kids buckets with handfuls of candy a piece.
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The kids had long been in bed. Despite her tucking them in, she was almost positive at least two of
them were up munching on the mountain of sweets they’d just gained. Besides, the doorbell had
only stopped its incessant ringing about 30 minutes ago. Mariah had turned tv on only for the noise.
Her mind was too far afield to digest the romantic comedy she’d found. She really did need to
contact Roger not only to see if he could Trick or Treat with the kids next year, but because it had
been a couple of months since they’d heard from him and Ceeven had begun to fret over his
absence.
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The doorbell chiming once again interrupted her thinking. Her porch light was off. It was after 10
pm! Who did these… Roger???
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She was so stunned she had no words as she opened the door.
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“Can I come in?” He asked brusquely.
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“Sure, yeah.”
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He stepped in and stood with his arms folded. The serious look on his face was so familiar to
Mariah it almost felt like home. Almost. His eyes held none of his old warmth.
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“The kids are in bed-”
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“-I’m not here to see the kids.”
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“Oh,” a little thrill raced up her spine making goosebumps erupt on her arms. Did he mean…
“They’ll be disappointed they missed seeing you.”
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“I can see them tomorrow.”
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“Oh! Wow! That’s great you’ve managed to get several days off in a row so soon after that
camping… trip.” A lead balloon brought Mariah back to earth.
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“I don’t have ‘days off.’ I’m off the case, Mariah. I’m home,” he answered, a sharp bite in his words.
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She had no answer for such a sudden pronouncement. What happened? Had Tex been arrested?
Was it all over?
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“And I’m not here to tell you that.”
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“Oh?”
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“Where’s Andre?”
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Dundundunnn!!! Lol. <br />
(Personal stuffs incoming: Skip if you’d like.)<br />
That was a long delay between this and the last, my apologies. My excuse this time is a lot larger
and more complex. Hubs had quite a health scare right around my birthday and thought he could
ignore things. Turns out he couldn’t. (Of course. Silly men.) So we’ve had to overhaul our lifestyle
which took a lot of time and effort. It was also really hard because his family is so far from
supportive over it that they’re basically ignoring him. (Embarrassed. Seriously. I kind of hate them
all right now.) Anyhow, they’re ass-y-ness has slowed things down considerably. But I think I’ve
finally managed to drag hubs out of it enough that when we go to their reunion next month we can
rub their faces in it pretty thoroughly. And! It means things finally settled enough that I could take a
peek at Mariah and co. again. (End personal stuffs.)<br />
There are some outtakes and trivia bits up on the <a href="http://secretsofthesixkillersbloopers.blogspot.com/2016/05/317-outtakes.html">bloopers blog</a> (click the tab above, or <a href="http://secretsofthesixkillersbloopers.blogspot.com/2016/05/317-outtakes.html">HERE!</a>) if you're curious. <br />
As for the above, please ignore Dove’s magic hair changes. Lol. Aaaand ignore the upside down
tarot cards Mariah read. That was just an “I’m shooting this Naow!” mistake. Ha! ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-39342569167714861412016-03-17T06:14:00.001-05:002016-05-09T19:12:13.498-05:00Downloads-Objects-Sunny's Balloon Collection It's that time again! Time for BIRTHDAY PREZZIES! We've got the streamers, we've got a ton of cake! Now we've got a ton of balloons, too!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsOsD-gB-Id_CkVMaPwaUvTnpBQClzJOSw3PBShCe8fFYdgkcQRtnLdTKsr0wuDmA3Hlcp95Zbw9jwCpW6Bvo7ItzoriWespGAPtheskPwO8_5GYPde9AQ9wJe1SkDnfMXbslPR5gi4Yfj/s1600/BalloonTease-LG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsOsD-gB-Id_CkVMaPwaUvTnpBQClzJOSw3PBShCe8fFYdgkcQRtnLdTKsr0wuDmA3Hlcp95Zbw9jwCpW6Bvo7ItzoriWespGAPtheskPwO8_5GYPde9AQ9wJe1SkDnfMXbslPR5gi4Yfj/s640/BalloonTease-LG.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alternate title: It was at this moment they remembered why no one asked Aunt Sunny to host birthday parties anymore.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal;">Balloon Cluster 1</span></th>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal;">Balloon Cluster 2</span></th>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ceiling Balloon Cluster</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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9 balloon arrangements to make your sims next party more complete! (so much better than that sickly looking balloon 'plant' EA made. EEeeewwwww.)<br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Balloon Wall, Preset 1</span></span></span></th>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCtvbPqoI-XZERj9iHw82hVhISgkjTb6e2DgxowARkzjrNoYBZfVmTc26qd20LjFk6be-_B205wa_YQH6Z4IGjE2bBMvqXqlKCjAwvRUasLtG8vQsU3PL-8AWClvG7SeeHDjbDeeX1Sjc/s1600/Screenshot-117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCtvbPqoI-XZERj9iHw82hVhISgkjTb6e2DgxowARkzjrNoYBZfVmTc26qd20LjFk6be-_B205wa_YQH6Z4IGjE2bBMvqXqlKCjAwvRUasLtG8vQsU3PL-8AWClvG7SeeHDjbDeeX1Sjc/s200/Screenshot-117.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Preset 2</span></span></th>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8g58TeLoBh0w9TpTk54djrBPTiBZc2kA6EN_FBksDjxZ8bUpgzVn4KAkG3rNCklXeucPJsQCxe7p3Cly-SKgH5mJQ6nZd32LHGDc_q411t15tU_aKqcAGb5gTAf8byK57I6GBuDRJpRQM/s1600/Screenshot-118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8g58TeLoBh0w9TpTk54djrBPTiBZc2kA6EN_FBksDjxZ8bUpgzVn4KAkG3rNCklXeucPJsQCxe7p3Cly-SKgH5mJQ6nZd32LHGDc_q411t15tU_aKqcAGb5gTAf8byK57I6GBuDRJpRQM/s200/Screenshot-118.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Preset 3</span></span></th>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Preset 4</span></td>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczG03k11f5_j8vOh6HD-7TECYvX0R7DlywUQ0T_mlefdCALrVIMgwfjwB1hNxbsJ5ZvxNLUBf3c_VD4qk-0e7o0j77Yb-Z2yinVUtehlt_VB3qI7Ih0eq_BpKXfYj0HAI6UD47R58is1p/s1600/Screenshot-120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczG03k11f5_j8vOh6HD-7TECYvX0R7DlywUQ0T_mlefdCALrVIMgwfjwB1hNxbsJ5ZvxNLUBf3c_VD4qk-0e7o0j77Yb-Z2yinVUtehlt_VB3qI7Ih0eq_BpKXfYj0HAI6UD47R58is1p/s200/Screenshot-120.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Preset 5</span></td>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQtfmY7p7m9BQb6vG7Cdia6oymqg-DHZ6x2_BXp8bdQ4tuEXvQ_ZH_13kzAH6qXDMuiQSoovEPzkFcW9-TE46C_n0Xe_cIsWYDno5MmWo-Y_pAX3_9uBEad8kmJtdrvxGzlFIbSOWOxc_/s1600/Screenshot-121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQtfmY7p7m9BQb6vG7Cdia6oymqg-DHZ6x2_BXp8bdQ4tuEXvQ_ZH_13kzAH6qXDMuiQSoovEPzkFcW9-TE46C_n0Xe_cIsWYDno5MmWo-Y_pAX3_9uBEad8kmJtdrvxGzlFIbSOWOxc_/s200/Screenshot-121.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Preset 6</span></td>
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These babies come with 6 presets each. Included are variations for Valentine's Day, Halloween, and of course, St.Patrick's day. Clusters of 4 or 8 have 4 recolorable channels. Any less and it's one color per balloon. Strings are not recolorable.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Floor Balloon Cluster</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgy2Xy-_ugKFCyNbLfAkIXsvwnObDYO2q4xHBVSi3_5wv5er5e6haFOymnzKeuk3v7nmREVF3tcTyYsKSnemsH_d7OOayOIhzXV63y3F5GbTbXQXpGi3QIa5cATzV4v4dFRN_qHXxE172/s1600/Screenshot-121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgy2Xy-_ugKFCyNbLfAkIXsvwnObDYO2q4xHBVSi3_5wv5er5e6haFOymnzKeuk3v7nmREVF3tcTyYsKSnemsH_d7OOayOIhzXV63y3F5GbTbXQXpGi3QIa5cATzV4v4dFRN_qHXxE172/s320/Screenshot-121.jpg" width="289" /></a></div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Single Floor Balloon</span></span><br />
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Floor balloons are technically rugs so sims can walk through them. Consequently, the balloon rugs can be found under Decor/Rugs. All balloons can be found in Entertainment/Parties as well as Decor/Misc.Decor and Decor/Sculptures. They are §5 per balloon.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Single Ceiling Balloon (L) and Wall Balloon Cluster (R)</span></td></tr>
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Ceiling, light, and wall balloons are shiftable. The single and wall cluster balloons are specifically designed to go with my Party Streamers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zpbWe3k7ehyphenhyphenMC9iMHYcvYmK_7HkJwuOJMFK391dJS4TTvJJSXBmfkYrLviz-JqZwONK8Loj2TEy2k3L9V2h-rDWH6tP0wSup8w-gBiHZfAK-7-FV-t3mXth30UYF0lZgTHIHWmo0yKJM/s1600/Screenshot-128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zpbWe3k7ehyphenhyphenMC9iMHYcvYmK_7HkJwuOJMFK391dJS4TTvJJSXBmfkYrLviz-JqZwONK8Loj2TEy2k3L9V2h-rDWH6tP0wSup8w-gBiHZfAK-7-FV-t3mXth30UYF0lZgTHIHWmo0yKJM/s320/Screenshot-128.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging Light Fixture Balloons</td></tr>
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Using MoveObjects On to place these is highly recommended when placing balloons on hanging light fixtures or on the ceiling.<br />
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The poly count on any cluster of 8 balloons is just a smidge high. Not high enough for a warning or anything, but more just so you know. However, with 4 or fewer balloons the poly count is pretty good, if I do say so myself. <br />
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<u>Style</u></div>
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<u>HLOD|</u></div>
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<u>MLOD</u></div>
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8 balloons + String</div>
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1504</div>
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302</div>
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8 -No Strings</div>
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1472</div>
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300</div>
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4 + Strings</div>
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752</div>
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150</div>
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4 -No Strings</div>
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736</div>
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150</div>
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3 balloons</div>
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552</div>
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124</div>
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1 Balloon</div>
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184</div>
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50</div>
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What are you waiting for? Download the goods and help me celebrate my birthday!<br />
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<u><span style="font-size: 28pt;">DOWNLOAD</span></u><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://secretsofthesixkillers.blogspot.com/p/downloads.html">TOU can be seen here</a></span> <br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/1xl9reaszinzeed/Sunny%27s_Balloon_Collection.7z">Mediafire</a> | <a href="http://simfileshare.net/download/61226/">Sim File Share</a> <br />
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Thanks to: Gemma for convincing me to get a move on and get something made. lol. If you hadn't, I'd probably still be moaning about it. Ha!<br />
To the anon who asked about the balloons seen in <a href="http://secretsofthesixkillers.blogspot.com/2015/09/chapter-314-painful-reflections.html">THIS</a> chapter so long ago: If it hadn't been for your interest, I most likely would have shelved these little devils after the second remesh. While these are *not* the same balloon, they're a much lower poly version and I hope you find a use for them! <br />
To all who download and take an interest in the Sixkillers. THANK YOU So Much!ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-76686631537310032132016-03-17T06:14:00.000-05:002016-03-24T16:02:54.263-05:00Chapter 3.16- I Believe<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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“But it isn’t okay, Cee!” Vivia’s voice floated through the window interrupting the book Mariah had been studying.
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“Why not?”
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“Why not?” Dove’s sharp response decided it. Putting the book aside, Mariah rose. Peeking through the curtains she had a view of the sweetest scene she’d ever seen between her kids. “Why not? Really? Surely you don’t <i>like</i> it.”
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“I don’t don’t like it.”
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“Cee,” Vivia’s voice was patient, slow, tender. “Cee, you’re not ‘upposed to like it, you’re ‘upposed to not like it.”
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“They’re being mean to you. It’s mean.” Dove added. Mariah started, before disappearing from the window.
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“It’s not mean if you don’t unnerstand sump-ting.”
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“This isn’t that they don’t understand, Cee.” Dove leaned in closer, trying to get him to look at her instead of Vivia. “They are making fun of you. They’re bullying you!”
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“They didn’t hit me!”
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“Bullying inn’t jus’ hitting is what Ms.Parker says,” Vivia reflected.
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“Vivia’s right,” Mariah added. All three kids jumped at the sound of her voice. Ceeven, however, didn’t retain his surprise for long, smiling sweetly at her while Vivia wiped tears off her cheeks. “Bullying isn’t just hitting or pushing. Do you guys mind filling me in?”
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Dove’s eyes narrowed fractionally, sizing her mom up, wondering whether her mom really needed to know. Vivia, however, had never had Mariah fly into a rage in the school office because the world wasn’t perfect for her angel. With a great, juicy sniff, she told her best tale.
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“The other kids at school are being mean to Ceeven because he’s weird and Ceeven won’t tell on ‘em!”
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Frowning heavily at Vivia, Mariah shook her head. “Ceeven isn’t weird-”
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“-Yeah, he is.” Dove broke in.
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“-No, no he-”
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“-Yuh-huh.” Vivia added, wide eyed. Ceeven nodded placidly.
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“Let’s not call anyone weird! Okay?” Massaging her temples, Mariah tried to figure out how to get this back on track.
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“I’ll tell you guys what. Let’s go to Pop! You guys can think about how to tell me exactly what’s going on while we’re on the way. Then you’ll tell me exactly what’s going on *without calling anyone weird* while we have a snack and then we can play some games, okay?”
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Ceeven’s face brightened. “Can we go bowling, too, Mama?”
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“Anything you want, so long as you tell me what’s going on.”
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Pop! hadn’t changed much since she was a kid. And her kids were just as enamored with the place as she’d once been.
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“I want that!”
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“There’s plenty for all.”
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“But I wanted <i>that</i> one!”
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“I don’t like those.”
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“Then don’t order it.”
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“Why does <i>she</i> always hafta go first?”
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“Maybe you two should let Ceeven order first, then.”
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“I don’ wanna go first, Mama.”
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By the time they’d finished placing orders and sat down Mariah was ready to pull her hair out. Hopefully the kids would actually talk sensibly now they’d been bribed with sweets.
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“Ceeven? Would you please tell me what’s happened that your sisters say you’re being bullied.”
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“I dunno,” he shrugged.
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“He really doesn’ know, Mom.” Vivia chimed in.
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Dove shook her head gravely.
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“Alright, fine.” Mariah found it increasingly difficult to keep her temper reined in while these three did their best to thwart her attempts at sanity. “Dove? Have you witnessed whatever it is that’s happening?”
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Again, Dove shook her head, this time a heavy scowl on her face.
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“I has.” Vivia nodded, eager to chime in.
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“Okay,” Vivia started. “Okay, no a‘fence Cee, but sometimes you’re weird.”
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“Can someone <i>please</i> just tell me what happened?”
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“Ceeven brings his stupid <span style="font-family: inherit;">to</span>y-”
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“For PlumbBob’s sake, no ‘stupid’ either!”
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“-to school in his backpack and brings it to the playground.” Dove stated. Vivia nodded at her sister, encouraging her. “The kids made fun of ‘im so we made him stop.”
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Ceeven’s lower lip trembled. “I love Poppet, Mama.”
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“But then he says he met some circus girl and they’re best friends. And her name is Poppy.”
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Mariah’s breath caught. <i>And listen to Ceeven about Poppy, please. He doesn’t need more grief from you than you’re already going to give him.</i> Poppy. Abuela Sabria, the old fraud, had mentioned Ceeven’s Poppy in that awful letter.
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“And he tells everyone about all the adventures he had at the circus with ‘Poppy.’ But he on’y went to the circus one time and we all know that Poppy is Poppet. So the other kids are makin’ fun of ‘im and callin’ ‘im a liar and say he’s stupid and weird for still playing with his dolly and saying she’s real.”
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“But Poppy is real. I met her at the circus and we had so much fun there. Poppet is my dolly. I didn’t take Poppet to the circus.” Ceeven was unusually solemn.
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Trying her best to keep her face neutral, Mariah carefully surveyed her son. That dumb doll had been Ceeven’s favorite toy since he was very small. The imagination he showed during his games was enough to convince her that Dove, Vivia and the rest of the kids at school were probably on the right track. Not that it made them making fun of him okay, but…
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Then there were Abuela Sabria’s words floating lazily through her brain. Poppy. Maybe she could find a middle way.
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Ceeven turned toward her, his eyes begging her to believe him. <i>Liar.</i> How it had hurt when her own grandmother wouldn’t believe her.
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“Poppet is Poppet,” Mariah said. “And that’s a doll. Clearly Poppy is not.”
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“Whoawhoa-whoawhoawhoawhoawhoawhoa,” Dove flared almost instantly. “Poppy is Poppet. Poppet is a doll. Poppy is a doll. And when would he have had time to meet any one at the circus?”
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Mariah ached when she saw the hurt cross Ceeven’s face.
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“Dove, “ Mariah said. “Dove, did you see Ceeven 100% of the time when we were at the circus?”
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“Yes!”
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“Really? Because I believe you were watching the performers as much as the rest of us, not watching your brother. Even I lost sight of him a few times in the crowds. Maybe he met someone while you couldn’t see.”
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“So?” Dove challenged. “There was never time for him to have adventures with his doll.”
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“Poppy is not Poppet, sweetie,” Mariah tried to convince her. Even Vivia looked skeptical. “And it isn’t up to us to decide about Poppet and Poppy. If Ceeven says he met Poppy, then he met Poppy, okay?”
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While Vivia nodded, slightly cheered, Dove frowned more heavily than ever.
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“What if I told you that you’re being mean right now?” Mariah stated, trying to get Dove on board at any cost.
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Dove’s jaw dropped as she began to splutter
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“So,” Vivia piped up, relieving Dove from trying to figure out how to defend herself. “So, we need to make sure the other kids be’s nice to Cee! ‘Cause if Poppy is reals to him, that’s okay.”
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“Exactly.”
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“Maybe Cee shouldn’t tell the other kids about Poppy then?” Dove’s face was still hard.
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Studying her oldest for a moment, Mariah finally nodded.
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“That would probably be for the best. Even if Poppy is real, the other kids don’t think so.”
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Ceeven glared at the smug Dove, while Mariah turned back to Vivia.
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“And you!” Mariah said. “You need to tell the teacher if the other kids are being mean to Ceeven, even if he doesn’t want the teacher to know. Okay?”
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“Why not me?” Dove broke in.
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“Because you still don’t believe him.”
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“I don’ either.” Vivia was incurable honest.
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“Then pretend!”
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“Oh. Okay!”
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“I won’t bring Poppet to school anymore, if she upsets you so bad.” Ceeven offered, ever helpful.
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“I think Poppet should probably stay at home anyhow,” Mariah said. “What if Poppet gets dirty, or torn or someone takes it out of spite. We couldn’t replace it.”
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“Her, Mama.” Ceeven’s voice had once again dropped to his usual near whisper.
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Mariah, waited, puzzled.
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“Poppet is a girl. Just like Poppy</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">, Mama</span></span>.”
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Dove and Vivia traded smug glances.
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“Oh,” said Mariah. “Oh, I’m sorry. Her. ‘Poppet is a girl. Just. Like. Poppy.’”
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Ceeven nodded happily as he reached for the brownie in front of him.
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“Just like Poppy!”
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Propped up on the couch later that evening, at last Mariah had a moment to think over all her kids had told her.
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As much as she’d like to give Ceeven the benefit of a doubt, she just wasn’t able to deny that she was more on Dove and Vivia’s side than on his. There simply hadn’t been time for him to meet anyone from the circus! They’d been only once so far, though she’d been promising another trip for good behavior this weekend if it were still in town. Were his stories the tales of someone hopeful that magic existed in the real world? Or was he so lonely that he’d resort to stating imaginative fantasy as fact?
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Hating herself for the thought she wondered if perhaps she might need to speak to the counselor at school. Surely calling in a therapist was too drastic. Then again, did Ceeven actually believe his own stories?
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“Mama?”
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Her stomach flipping with anxiety, she snapped to attention. So wrapt up in her thoughts, she’d not heard her boy, with the scarf from the circus lady still on, come padding down the stairs.
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“Ceeven? What are you doing up? You’ve not been sleeping with that scarf on, have you?”
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“No, Mama.”
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“Good! You’ll get choked in the night. What’s up Buddy?”
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“I need to talk to you.”
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Ceeven neared her as Mariah waited to see what was keeping him up an hour past his bedtime.
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“You do know Poppy is real, right</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Mama</span></span>?”
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Of course he would have picked up on her incredulity. Nodding slightly Mariah swung her legs down. Patting the cushion next to her she invited him to take a seat. This conversation would probably need more than a nod and a hug.
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“Of course I believe Poppy is real,” Mariah answered once he’d sat. “But no one else has seen her, so they have a hard time believing, or even understanding, your story.”
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“But you were right, Mama. It’s mean when they don’t believe me. Just because I’ve never seen a fairy doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
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Mariah bit her lips trying to hide her smile.
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“I hate to say it Ceeven, but plenty of people don’t believe fairies exist either.”
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“But,” Ceeven was shocked. “But, Mama, don’t they know that if they don’t believe in fairies they’ll hurt them?”
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“No,” answered Mariah. “No, they don’t realize they’re hurting the fairies by saying they don’t believe. Then again, fairies are magic. Maybe they’re just ignoring the people who don’t know better and go about their lives as they please.”
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“I dunno, Mama. It’s still not nice.”
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“The world isn’t always a very nice place, baby.”
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“But when they talk bad about Poppy and Poppet, about me, it hurts, Mama.”
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“And you tell your Mama who hurts you. I’ll make it stop. I promise.”
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“You really do know Poppy is real and Poppet is my doll? Honest</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">, Mama</span></span>?” Ceeven’s normally soft expression had grown flinty and hard. Mariah wasn’t about to hurt him the way all others around him did. The old bat, Abuela Sabria, had at least had one thing right. Mariah would do anything for her kids; lie, cheat, steal or even murder if it meant she could protect them from a world that was much too harsh for such tender hearts.
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“Really truly honestly.”
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“You look pretty tonight, Mama.” Ceeven had slipped back to his old self easily.
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“Aw! That’s so sweet, baby. Thank you!” He was going to break all the girls’ hearts one day. “Now back to bed. It’s way past your bedtime.”
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“Okay, Mama.”
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“And take that scarf off!”
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“Yes, Mama.”
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I’m half tempted to do a pictorial of Mariah in the school office haranguing the poor staff because Dove tripped over her shoe lace or something. xD
ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-73657552706442046912016-02-19T22:15:00.002-06:002016-03-24T16:02:23.618-05:00Chapter 3.15- Time to Move On<div style="text-align: center;">
I know I am but summer to your heart, </div>
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And not the full four seasons of the year; </div>
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And you must welcome from another part </div>
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Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear. </div>
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No gracious weight of golden fruits to sell </div>
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Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing; </div>
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And I have loved you all too long and well </div>
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To carry still the high sweet breast of Spring. </div>
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Wherefore I say: O love, as summer goes, </div>
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I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums, </div>
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That you may hail anew the bird and rose </div>
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When I come back to you, as summer comes. </div>
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Else will you seek, at some not distant time, </div>
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Even your summer in another clime. </div>
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-Edna St.Vincent Milay<br />
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“I know I am but
summer to your heart (Sonnet XXVII)”, American Poetry,
1922</div>
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Balancing kids, home, tarot classes and managing the Institute had proven much much more difficult than Mariah had imagined. At first, anyway. Her first day of tarot classes was the twins first day of school was Dove’s second first day of second grade was the first time she’d found a speck of dust on the bookshelf was the first time she’d forced herself to take a deep breath and <i>walk away.</i>
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Then she found little tricks to helping her keep the house going. This discovery led to others equally important. Putting her foot down with Delphine occasionally meant the center realized more in profits. Studying first thing in the morning before she went to class meant she needed to study less in the evenings. Not picking up after her kids constantly, continually, left her more time to spend <i>with</i> them instead. Maybe their rooms were a little messier than usual, but they didn’t seem to be hurt by it. She still spent one day a week cleaning to her hearts content so the germs didn’t rise up in the night and pummel them all, and that was enough.
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Thursdays were never a class day. These days Mariah usually devoted to Delphine learning everything she could about the Institute and bullying Delphine to spend less, but not today. Today she was taking a day to go to her cabin. Maybe it wasn’t a getaway trip like she’d made there as a kid, but it was still an escape.
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Mariah closed the door softly behind her, glancing wistfully at the chairs before grabbing a duster and setting to work in the uppermost corners. Today wasn’t a day to come here and relax. It was a day to clean it up and out. Time to sweep out all those nasty old memories along with the dust and dirt accumulated in recent years of neglect.
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If Roger had moved on, shouldn’t she move on also?
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The cobwebs dangling just out of the reach of her duster infuriated her to the point of tears. If only she’d brought a ladder or step stool. If only she’d had some duct tape to attach the duster to the broo… oh wait.
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Mariah blinked in confusion as the solution presented itself. She’d just use the broom overhead. It had been there all along.
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Nose wrinkled at the amount of dust and dirt now swirling around her feet, the broom still stuck in her head even as her hands pushed it across the floor. This particular broom was old and very worn. Yet she’d had it so long it felt almost as an old friend; always present, always reliable. Like this cabin had been to her. The same way Roger had been.
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Gah. It wasn’t time for that yet. Clean first. Move on later.
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Now here was an opportunity to literally sweep some of her anger away. She’d vacuum up Andre’s soul. . . In her imagination at least. Maybe she should have made a paper effigy and burned it and <i>then</i> she could really vacuum up his ashes. Wow was she obsess-. <i>Why isn’t this stupid thing working?</i>
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Kicking the large canister gave her no satisfaction and a throbbing toe. But the machine hummed to life leaving her to scramble to pick up the hose again. Almost exactly like Andre had left her.
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Scrub a dub dub. The memories of that rug. And the rug burn. That’s it. She’d have to burn the rug. Even if Dove would adore it. Oh well.
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Frustrated the cleaning wasn’t as cathartic as she’d hoped, Mariah tossed her rag into the bucket and threw herself in front of the fireplace.
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Cleaning out the fireplace was a task she hated. At home, she’d swapped the real logs out for gas so she wouldn’t have to face that dreaded chore. It wasn’t an option out here, and anyway, there was a time the task brought a smile to her face. Roger had taught her how to properly maintain it when they were little more than kids.
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The place was now mostly clean, it was time to get down to the real reason for such a long overdue visit. Her home was not a place for her to sort through her feelings anymore; there was too much else to claim her attention. But out here, she might finally be able to make peace with Roger and his girlfriend.
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Kelly. She’d nearly puked right there when she’d learned what the faceless name was to <i>her </i>Roger. Stupid of her to think he was warming up to her again three years after she’d rejected his proposal. His friendliness was only a ploy to trick her into letting the kids go with him. And after Dove’s reaction, she’d not fall for it again
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What had happened to their early agreement that co-parenting meant they had to be totally transparent and honest with the other? Clearly, he’d been violating that decision for a long time. No way would be bring a <i>new</i> girlfriend to meet his kids. Their relationship had to be fairly comfortable for him to take such a step.
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But no matter how much she tried to be angry or hurt with Roger and <i>Kelly</i> her anger never lasted long. Instead she’d find herself swept up in his embrace. He’d admit he knew all along the kids would need to be older before she’d be comfortable marrying. Then Roger would confess that Kelly only happened in an effort to make her jealous, that he was lonely and she was just there. Meaningless. Disposable. The only one he’d ever need was her. <i>Her.</i> Together they’d conquer the world now that they understood each other perfectly. Together? They were infinite.
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He’d be back for her. She knew it.
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It had appeared in a field near the river overnight; a sea of black and white striped canvas tents disrupting the smooth green everyone was so used to. The only thing denoting sim presence was a sign dangling from the unopened gates announcing the circus would open at sunset. Otherwise it appeared almost deserted.
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Kids at school talked of nothing all day long and when Dove, Ceeven and Vivia arrived home all three begged to go right then. Mariah stalled and laughed, her classes that day had been particularly difficult and tiring. Her darlings won in the end, though. They always did.
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“We’re the last ones here!” Ceeven cried as they neared the circus. It was rare for him to assert himself on anything. For him to actually show eagerness was incredibly unusual. “We’ll miss it all! It will close before we’re finished looking!”
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“We’ll leave long before that, Cee,” Mariah said, startled at how enthusiastic her usually placid little boy was. “There’s still school tomorrow.”
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“Aw, do we hafta go to school tomorrow?”
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Mariah contented herself with a sigh, ignoring Vivia, before heading for the entrance.
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Ceeven stopped them once they’d gained the courtyard.
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Even Dove had nothing to complain of as they gazed about them, trying to figure out where they were.
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On one side a lady juggled swords for a small crowd gathered around her. One guy flinched as a sword came close. The lady smiled, promising the safety of all who watched her.
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On Mariah’s left</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">,</span></span> a pair of sims on a platform, still as statues, were entwined with each other.
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Ceeven turned slowly on the spot until he’d managed to somehow decide where to go.
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“Let’s go!” And he ran off, leaving a family baffled by his sudden burst of enthusiasm to scramble after him.
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It was only now that Mariah began to see just how different this circus was. They’d caught up with Ceeven in front of another lady performing in the open for a crowd. This lady was also dressed head to toe in black, however she wielded no swords.
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Instead, suspended between her hands was an oversized playing card spinning wildly while she stared hard at it. Softening her gaze the card came to a standstill, hovering in the air as she lowered her arms, clasping her hands behind her back.
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“Lookit the card, lookit the card!” Ceeven shouted.
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Sure enough the card’s face was shifting. From the ace of spades to the king of clubs to the queen of hearts to the jack of diamonds and back to spades the card’s face melted, again and again. Then, with a smiling glance at Ceeven’s excitement, The Illusionist threw her arms upward and the card erupted in a spray of bubbles.
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The crowd gasped along with Ceeven this time. These were no ordinary bubbles either. They kept coming, faster and faster. <span style="font-family: inherit;">E</span>ach iridescent orb that appeared had a different hue from the last until finally The Illusionist dropped her hands and the bubbles simultaneously popped.
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Vivia and Dove cheered along, though Dove claimed to have gotten soap in one eye. This, however, didn’t cause her to miss the Illusionist summoning Ceeven to her side.
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Pacing a few steps away from him, the Illusionist aimed a flattened palm at Ceeven’s waist. She stood this way for barely a breath before leveling her palm off and raising her arm. As she raised it, so did Ceeven.
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“Ceeven! You’re flying!” Dove and Vivia were breathless with giddy laughter at the look on Ceeven’s face. The joy of the moment before replaced with shock as he kicked in midair.
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Gently, he was placed on the ground again while the gathered crowd applauded. A blink later, and the illusionist was nowhere to be seen.
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Instead of taking a moment to revel in his fame, Ceeven grabbed Mariah’s hand <span style="font-family: inherit;">as soon as</span> he could, tugging her down another path in quest of another performance.
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They found a small crowd gathered about a third female standing in the dark, a pair of metal fans clutched in her hands.
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Excitement making him bold, Ceeven took the chance to be extra close this time.
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Just as he took a another baby step forward, the fan tips burst into flame, making him jump backward.
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Vivia laughed. “You got scared, Cee.”
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“Did not!”
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Unnoticed by the twins bickering, Dove had also been startled by the flames. Her gasp was loud enough to draw the gaze of some across the crowd as well as from the performer herself. Though it couldn’t have been possible, Mariah swore the flames became smaller after Dove’s cry.
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Taking a step back the woman began twirling the fans around her fingers as the crowd began to swell. Slowly at first, then faster until the flames were nothing more than a streaks of light she continued. Even the crisp fall air felt warmer as she moved in time to music Mariah was sure hadn’t been there before.
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Slowing down her spinning fans, the Fire Artist turned and fixed her gaze on Dove as she moved.
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Dove had her arms up in fear, as though she might be burnt. Vivia’s laughter was no longer for Ceeven, but for her sister. Ceeven, however, was too spellbound to care and cheered with the crowd when the lady suddenly grasped her fans, flipping them over her hands before tossing them high.
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There were some in the crowd not as enamored as Ceeven, but Dove was still the most vocal. She was convinced someone’s hair would catch fire and that the lady was dangerous.
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Vivia finally had had enough of Dove’s whining and reached over to poke her sister hard, telling her with a glare to “Shut.Up.” Wrinkling her nose, Dove stuck her tongue out at her sister, but did at least stay silent.
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For a moment at least. As though she realized Dove was holding back, she chose that moment to breathe a cloud of fire above the heads of the audience making quite a few sims scream, including Dove who jumped back behind Mariah for protection
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Ceeven took the opportunity to step further forward, laughing and cheering as the breeze ruffled his hair.
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After such a crowning trick, the Fire Artist waved her fans a final time and the space where she’d been performing lit the audience as they cheered. Ceeven loudest of all.
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Barely waiting for the crowd to hide the Fire Artist from his sight, Ceeven darted off determined to find another performance.
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Dove complained loudly. The tents they passed had open flaps and enticing signs. Why did they have to follow Ceeven? Why couldn’t they go explore something else?
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But Mariah didn’t have breath to answer her. Ceeven was so far ahead at times he was lost to her sight and she couldn’t stand the thought that he might get disappear.
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They finally caught up to him near a low platform.
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The platform contained only a glass pedestal with a black cube on top and a ball. Vivia announced it must be an animal act, which effectively shut up Dove, again. Ceeven took two steps away from them and refused to join in any speculation. His attention was fixed solely on the cube. Besides, they were distracting him from all that he wanted to see.
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Vivia had tired of conjecture and the crowd had stopped growing. Even Mariah was ready to concede they’d arrived for the performance too early and ought to move on when the cube proved itself to be anything but. It was a box. And the lid was being pushed open <i>from the inside.</i>
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Slowly, a woman emerged from the box, dropping lightly to the ground where she began to stretch as though she’d been in there a very long time.
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Mariah was bored by it. So she had been in a box and it was cramped. Maybe it was time indeed to move on.
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The thought had barely formed when the lady flipped herself over and <i>sat on her own head.</i> A man in the crowd attempted to be funny when Ceeven cut him off.
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“Lookit the box! There’s another hand!”
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Sure enough, there was a hand gripping the side. Mariah had just time to digest, and be impressed by, the fact that there’d been <i>two</i> sims in that box before the next woman, a mirrored twin of the first, unfolded herself.
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While the second woman stretched (by pulling her left leg behind her over her right ear, Mariah’s hips ached,) the first woman walked over to the ball. With great effort she rolled it in front of the pedestal and box, ensuring they could hear that it was solid. Then, as though it weighed nothing, she flipped it onto her back and curled herself around it as her sister slinkied to the ground.
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Once the Black Contortionist was freely standing on her own shoulders, the White Contortionist rolled the ball smoothly onto her sister’s knees before placing a foot on the back of her head while… Yeah.
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“You’re not supposed to be able to bend like that!” Vivia exclaimed while Mariah had to remind herself to breathe. Afraid the ball would drop and damage these fragile performers, she’d been unknowingly holding her breath.
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Slowly, this time moving almost in tandem, the two formed a table. As the Black Contortionist moved, she kept the ball balanced. Once in position with her sister, she rolled it along until it sat balanced between the two.
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Ceeven’s cheers were as breathless as Mariah felt. What they were doing seemed as impossible as every other act had been tonight.
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Their final position had the crowd roaring. How they managed to get the ball up there<span style="font-family: inherit;"> without <span style="font-family: inherit;">using their hands</span></span> was nearly miraculous to Mariah’s way of thinking.
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While Ceeven cheered himself hoarse, Dove finally gave in. As they applauded she looked up at Mariah, eyes wide.
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“It’s almost like magic, isn’t it Mom?”
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“Almost baby. Almost.”
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With two of the three kids visibly exhausted from the little they’d done so far, Mariah insisted they head for the entrance and home. However, the statues in the courtyard snagged the attention of the very two who most needed bed in her opinion.
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Though the two sims appeared to be in exactly the same position as they were earlier, Mariah could detect that they’d moved. She smirked while Vivia made a bid to go watch two women charming snakes in the same spot the sword juggler had been when they’d arrived.
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Watching as Ceeven and Dove stood transfixed she was astounded to notice that the sim statues moved more than she thought originally. The clock outside the gates had rung in a new hour and the statues were in entirely different positions.
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Vivia was now begging to see the man and his assistant who had brought out several lions on leashes and had them performing where the snake charmers had been so long ago.
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“Lions?” Mariah jumped at Vivia’s cheer.
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“Yes! Can I go see them mom? Huh? CanIcanI?”
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“No, we’re almost done here. I think.”
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The performances in the corner had long ended and still they stood. The crowd left in attendance was thicker now, though it appeared most of them were in this area so they could exit.
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Somehow, in the slow and graceful movements, the two sim statues had gained a flower and a scrap of fabric. Dove accepted the small red bloom offered her by the man before he was properly on one knee. Ceeven, though, had to be urged by obvious movements to take the folded red cloth the lady offered to him. As both children came back to a complaining Vivia (“Why didn’t they offer <i>me</i> something? I’ve been standing watching them as long as you have! My knee hurts! I’m thirsty. Are we going home now?”) Ceeven was starry eyed.
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“It’s the best place ever, Mom,” he said in his usual small voice as he unfolded a deep red scarf he immediately wound round his neck. “The very best ever.”
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Things for Mariah have come full circle. Once, Roger dreamed of her. Now, she dreams of him despite the odds against it ever happening.</span></span></div>
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I swear th<span style="font-family: inherit;">e circus</span> was more than just filler. Lol. There really is some important stuff going on within it all, both pictures and words. And we’ll probably be visiting that circus several more times as generation 4 progresses. For those curious, or looking for a good read, it’s inspired by The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern.</span></span></div>
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HUGE huge huge thanks to all the wonderful legacy writers who have offered up sims that I used here. <br />
<a href="https://matthewsrandomlegacyredone.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Carrie's</span></a> <a href="http://matthewsrandomlegacy.blogspot.co.uk/p/rosie-matthews.html?zx=24457d4cc93f0aef">Rosie</a> as the Illusionist.<br />
<a href="http://sleitinnlegacy.blogspot.com/">Urunwa’s</a> Oriana as the Fire Artist.<br />
The Sim(human) Statues are <a href="http://mattellrandomlegacy.blogspot.com/p/steal-sim.html">Rose</a> and Myles Belcher by <a href="http://towiurl.blogspot.com/">Gemma</a>. <br />
Since I didn’t feel comfortable twisting known sims into pretzels, The Contortionists are based on <a href="http://modthesims.info/download.php?t=499001">Nina Ha found here</a>.<br />
There are many more familiar faces in the crowd from more legaciests, <a href="http://kahekilis.blogspot.com/">Nirar’s</a> <a href="http://simsasylum.com/tfm/index.php?/topic/5713-claudio-monty/">Claudio Monty</a> (whom I didn’t fix up nearly as well as deserved) as well as Jack Kahekili are among the crowd. <a href="http://clemetislegacy.blogspot.com/">Ali’s</a> <a href="http://rluploads.blogspot.com/2011/11/clemetis-legacy-ajh.html">Dory</a>, <a href="http://marquellegacy.blogspot.com/">Ann’s</a> <a href="http://marquellegacy.blogspot.com/p/legacy-sims-download-mia.html">Mia</a> and <a href="http://marquellegacy.blogspot.com/2015/05/legacy-sims-download-renard.html">Renard</a>; <a href="http://matthewsrandomlegacy.blogspot.com/?zx=bd646431b5677d89">Carrie’s</a> <a href="http://matthewsrandomlegacy.blogspot.co.uk/p/ashton-matthews.html?zx=9a1aea7c78ecddba">Ashton</a>; <a href="http://mattellrandomlegacy.blogspot.com/">Gemma’s</a> <a href="http://mattellrandomlegacy.blogspot.com/p/steal-sim.html">Taylor</a>; <a href="http://sleitinnlegacy.blogspot.com/">Urunwa’s</a> <a href="http://sleitinnlegacy.blogspot.com/2015/12/download-sim-bashir-viho.html">Bashir</a>, <a href="http://sleitinnlegacy.blogspot.com/2015/12/download-sim-lucrecia-viho.html">Lucky</a> and <a href="http://sleitinnlegacy.blogspot.com/2015/12/download-sim-odin-sleitinn.html">Odin</a>; <a href="http://caterpillarsims.tumblr.com/">Melissa’s</a> <a href="http://brannonlegacy.blogspot.com/p/sims-downlo.html">Jack</a>; and <a href="http://maessonlegacy.blogspot.com/">ASimpleSparkle’s</a> <a href="http://maessonlegacy.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html">Ildred</a> are also all hanging around watching the performances. There’s a blooper on the <a href="http://secretsofthesixkillersbloopers.blogspot.com/2016/02/315-bloopers-and-spot-my-sim.html">bloopers blog as well as a Spot My Sim! Feature.</a> These are unedited photos showing where your sims were in the crowd in the majority of the scenes. My apologies if your sims didn’t appear. After about the 4th day in CAS agonizing over hair and clothing and skin I just went and grabbed a bunch of households from the exchange to dump in so I could get things moving. Hopefully more sims will appear later on. </span></span><br />
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A final huge thanks! To all of you for sticking around waiting on The Sixkillers to appear again. <3 <!--3--></span></span></div>
ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-40159005017795552832015-12-19T10:35:00.000-06:002015-12-21T11:32:45.963-06:00Downloads-Poses-Cannonball! Merry Christmas with a little extra love for all those simmers living South of the equator! <br />
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I'm usually in the mood for a fire and sweater, but there's quite a lot of you who prefer to go to the beach for the December holidays. This posepack is for you.<br />
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These poses were originally created for <a href="http://modthesims.info/showpost.php?p=4908527&postcount=22">my July Entry for Heaven's 2016 Calendar Contest at MTS</a>, but they're too fun not to share.<br />
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6 poses. To get the swimmers to hover over a pool: place an OMSP poolside. Raise it by at least 1cm. Put your sim on it and move it over the pool. Raise or lower it from there to your liking.<br />
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As per usual, the above posecoded image is included in the archives for your convenience. Poselisted and Not-Poselisted available. Only put one in your game if you don't want two in your game.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 22pt;"><u><b>Download!</b></u></span><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/5lgg436no6xzdx3/Sunny%27sCannonballPoses-Poselisted.7z"><br /></a>
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/5lgg436no6xzdx3/Sunny%27sCannonballPoses-Poselisted.7z">Sunny's Cannonball Poses-Poselisted</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/zo9r36pjtpghcar/Sunny%27sCannonballPoses-NotPoselisted.7z">Sunny's Cannonball Poses-NOT Poselisted</a><br />
<br />
If you've used my poses in your game and you've posted pics somewhere,
I'd love to see! Leave a link in the comments or tag me on Tumblr
(sunnyssims) and I'll leave some love back!ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-49154737680509705362015-12-19T10:34:00.003-06:002015-12-19T10:34:53.977-06:00Downloads-Sunny's School Set<br />
Not just one or two items, but a whole slew of things to make a kindergarten/preschool/small child's classroom with! <br />
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Most of this was used in <a href="http://secretsofthesixkillers.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-313-less-than-frigid.html">Chapter 3.13-Less Than Frigid</a>. However, it was not in a state where I could release it at that time. So after much work polishing, remapping and learning new mesh techniques here it all is. Two tables, two chairs, a bulletin board, a worksheet and poses enough to get an entire classroom of kids to behave and learn. (Poses were used here: <a href="http://modthesims.info/showpost.php?p=4905560&postcount=7">MTS 2016 Calendar Contest</a>)<br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: 20pt;">Sunny's School Tables</span></b></u><br />
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Table #1 is a crescent shaped table. Usually the teacher sits behind it with a semi circle of kids surrounding her.<br />
This table has 18 slots. They're wonky and all over the place but I've kind of quit caring that they're not perfect. =D PolyCount:1152/301<br />
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Table #2 is a standard rectangle large enough to accommodate 6 kids. It has 21 slots.PolyCount: 700/298<br />
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Both tables have 3 recolorable channels, but only one preset. They can be found under Kids' Misc and Surfaces->Coffee Tables for §200.<br />
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The slots are a little aggressive and you will need to use MoveObjects On and DisableSnappingToSlotsOnAlt True with Alt Shifting to get the chairs to go <i>around</i> the table instead of <i>on</i> the table. <br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: 20pt;">Sunny's Classroom Chairs</span></b></u><br />
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Both of these chairs are identical. Only one, the larger one, is functional. PolyCount for both chairs:908/301<br />
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The decorative, smaller chair has a slot allowing it to stack with other chairs, though I didn't get the legs meshed quite correctly and there's a bit of clipping. It also has a slot on the seat. This chair requires poses for kids to sit on it.<br />
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There are 2 recolorable channels and 5 presets. The larger chair can be found in Comfort->Dining Chairs.. The smaller one can be found in Kids->Misc., Decor->Sculptures and Misc. Decor. They are priced at §40 each.<br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: 20pt;">Sunny's Classroom Bulletin Boards</span></b></u><br />
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This is the bulletin board from Uni, made BG compatible and with new Simlish images based on bulletin boards I've eyeballed at my kids' schools. There are 4 presets, one recolorable channel and it's shiftable.<br />
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These can be found in Decor->Wall Art, Misc. Decor and Kids->Misc. for §50.<br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: 20pt;">Sunny's Classroom Worksheets</span></b></u><br />
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A simple Simlish worksheet to put on tables for kids to use. It has 6 presets and one recolorable channel. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3Uzf_ca7Q8sqWajIBfNiviOX2JtvK6KBfDe1FlwuAmovzxul5DlqpM5kthIj4we1nLM9CRbtaAs2N7q_ef8E6atftJPdcWuiuGFjNXs69EV6a5Vt43LerFFFT1cR-lOE1QkFeU6MDlkZ/s1600/Preset6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3Uzf_ca7Q8sqWajIBfNiviOX2JtvK6KBfDe1FlwuAmovzxul5DlqpM5kthIj4we1nLM9CRbtaAs2N7q_ef8E6atftJPdcWuiuGFjNXs69EV6a5Vt43LerFFFT1cR-lOE1QkFeU6MDlkZ/s200/Preset6.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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It can be found under Misc. Decor and in Kids->Misc. for §5. PolyCount: 4/2<br />
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<b><u><span style="font-size: 20pt;">Sunny's SchoolDaze Posepack</span></u></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJTHHwPDso4_qabKEV7ytNT1BjG_dzcgFZOZDDKm6u31qEGxjszI3L71kstLnHPX6nZwMsUmgRg-kXhyphenhyphenDpo43VWe2UdOJQNK0PHdC2Ofs-0z7t-tExB6dz1fee5KB1cD4WkMc2dFQkbMF/s1600/c_eahomework1-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJTHHwPDso4_qabKEV7ytNT1BjG_dzcgFZOZDDKm6u31qEGxjszI3L71kstLnHPX6nZwMsUmgRg-kXhyphenhyphenDpo43VWe2UdOJQNK0PHdC2Ofs-0z7t-tExB6dz1fee5KB1cD4WkMc2dFQkbMF/s640/c_eahomework1-6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3VYZSZSc06hKJvN_Jf0o6gRdfgxZulDeiHHGeO2iFJiPTm8wLGd76JtEt9bYkqbwf-0FiT1WJEdBb2NTvw9qNUVTNXsyFQKwXPcnS8eNnxee7QqpqhsuFKO1Io9l4h81Yv6n4ny8wq1DU/s1600/c_sunny_schooldaze1-6.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3VYZSZSc06hKJvN_Jf0o6gRdfgxZulDeiHHGeO2iFJiPTm8wLGd76JtEt9bYkqbwf-0FiT1WJEdBb2NTvw9qNUVTNXsyFQKwXPcnS8eNnxee7QqpqhsuFKO1Io9l4h81Yv6n4ny8wq1DU/s640/c_sunny_schooldaze1-6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDuOSPq_dX4GEXYJ8cWyeMAwgKCoWdmgs1qw0kV5qTxJGGuXGF2xaHe1-3JWDBbEY2UR84Rx3l83SaWY5k97cuQLwMN4qe-Ht9cDXmDzD0bQ0ffZMSK-ydBzriVss12fu2IIcSJHIqn4qt/s1600/c_sunny_schooldaze7-8-teacher-student.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDuOSPq_dX4GEXYJ8cWyeMAwgKCoWdmgs1qw0kV5qTxJGGuXGF2xaHe1-3JWDBbEY2UR84Rx3l83SaWY5k97cuQLwMN4qe-Ht9cDXmDzD0bQ0ffZMSK-ydBzriVss12fu2IIcSJHIqn4qt/s640/c_sunny_schooldaze7-8-teacher-student.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
16 poses to create that ideal learning enviroment. xD 6 of the poses came from EA's homework animation. The other 10 poses are all original. Each of the 6 EA poses, as well as poses 1-4 of the SchoolDaze set and c_sunny_student use the Extracted Pen Accessory included in the archive. <br />
<br />
These poses WILL require MoveObjects On to place them on the chairs/around the table.<br />
As per the usual, The above posecoded images are included in the archive for your convenience. There are two versions, Posecoded and NOT Posecoded. Only put one in your game or you'll have two in your game.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 20pt;"><u><b>Pen Accessory for Children</b></u></span><br />
This is the in game pen that has been extracted several times before by others (PickyPikachu has <a href="http://pickypikachu.blogspot.com/2013/03/writing-poses-with-notebook-and-pen.html">an accessory for teens/adults here</a>. BabaYaga extracted it and uploaded to MTS years ago. Link below.) I extracted it again and made it an accessory for children. <br />
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It is not recolorable. Found under the accessories tab in CAS.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 26pt;"><u><b>DOWNLOADS!!!</b></u></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 8pt;">(TOU found<a href="http://secretsofthesixkillers.blogspot.com/p/downloads.html"> HERE </a>applies to all downloads offered on this site)</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/q2cbab8vw8jlkes/Sunny%27s_Classroom_Set.7z">Sunny's Classroom Set</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/56zfy2pxhasrskz/Sunny%27sSchoolDazePoses-Poselisted.7z">Sunny's SchoolDaze PosePack-Poselisted</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/b7zrlv8cvw1daqz/Sunny%27sSchoolDazePoses-Not-Poselisted.7z">Sunny's SchoolDaze PosePack-NOT Poselisted</a><br />
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To complete your classroom I highly recommend:<br />
<a href="http://aroundthesims3.com/objects/room_downtown_02.shtml">Around the Sims 3 School</a><br />
<a href="http://sims3s.ru/objects-school.php">Severinka's School Set</a><br />
<a href="http://helen-sims.blogspot.com/2011/09/school-set.html">Helen Sims School Set</a><br />
<a href="http://modthesims.info/download.php?t=373356">Artsy-Fartsy Clutter from Baba Yaga</a><br />
<a href="http://jennisims.tumblr.com/post/62101594941/downloads-sims-3school-download">Jennisims School Classroom Set </a><br />
<a href="http://store.thesims3.com/setsProductDetails.html?scategoryId=13570&productId=OFB-SIM3:61770&section=UpSell">Little Prodigies Learning Center-Sims3 Store</a> (Mainly for the clothesline art and the cubby)<br />
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Well, that's all for this line of cc folks. Between this set and the drinking fountains I think my kids' schools are getting fairly suspicious of my visits. (I'm the only parent there taking pics of the chairs/tables/classwork/wall art instead of my kids. At least they were amused by my drinking fountain obsession. "This one in that hallway is different! Go see!" Sadly, the honeymoon is over. )<br />
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If you've used my poses in your game and you've posted pics somewhere,
I'd love to see! Leave a link in the comments or tag me on Tumblr
(sunnyssims) and I'll leave some love back!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRHeXMdZdITQRoL2nf3ER0FeesQeXtBw-ePQ77ns1VtjV6g_zSxEgeyORYe4nkvturrRRYJWaEmG6yIQLa5jEXnt6EQihZkd28LwCJ7VQWtQcOLSeOhw33i5tD7H4scaQcmQMzSM7kaRi/s1600/SixkillerChristmascard2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRHeXMdZdITQRoL2nf3ER0FeesQeXtBw-ePQ77ns1VtjV6g_zSxEgeyORYe4nkvturrRRYJWaEmG6yIQLa5jEXnt6EQihZkd28LwCJ7VQWtQcOLSeOhw33i5tD7H4scaQcmQMzSM7kaRi/s640/SixkillerChristmascard2015.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
And Merry Christmas! ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-41020712709889916882015-10-23T06:14:00.000-05:002015-10-23T06:14:17.784-05:00Downloads-Patterns-Sunny's Recolorable Glitter Pattern<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmeMbxtlfpKGTow8VMNrlZUjQIQ02MeAFLCm3bO56_KnUPpHZzMu0JuqW-ziTYCP0T9_dKbFv6CjNWKce3jwQ2XgIUy5Hkt0XWqZMG1wFwKPSJH1PX6iZgz6nq7290DeaTAGJhJdmKRDR7/s1600/LGTease.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmeMbxtlfpKGTow8VMNrlZUjQIQ02MeAFLCm3bO56_KnUPpHZzMu0JuqW-ziTYCP0T9_dKbFv6CjNWKce3jwQ2XgIUy5Hkt0XWqZMG1wFwKPSJH1PX6iZgz6nq7290DeaTAGJhJdmKRDR7/s640/LGTease.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Is it the fairest pattern of them all?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZG7K_FbffMu_-0USDtGBEvum7PuHjrbutasnwzWZ3TSLxc2TlZueeLOtmhqtZZsqU_u3CBApXCWSPMO466cGFq3p3-3namp8NT0qhErybMqHAkam9AOYzfEVtqyETaEOWTDkm9WqXhZYB/s1600/Screenshot-86.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZG7K_FbffMu_-0USDtGBEvum7PuHjrbutasnwzWZ3TSLxc2TlZueeLOtmhqtZZsqU_u3CBApXCWSPMO466cGFq3p3-3namp8NT0qhErybMqHAkam9AOYzfEVtqyETaEOWTDkm9WqXhZYB/s640/Screenshot-86.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Well... I kind of agree with Taylor there. Anyhow! I couldn't find a fine glitter pattern out there that was seamless and recolorable that I liked so I made one.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDGdNuTkXiCG6V9m0AuO5HavrjmhB0LdLEyrBBOa7bBjSGOQqhkatYb9hw6xuH1kMFm4kH5hyphenhyphen_vVwX8_BcOdvuYz2hTxhBNzzGFuWO9kB7k13RPJaDSXJpcZhjA3rsar2UhUQMc8kNEkT/s1600/Screenshot-76.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeDGdNuTkXiCG6V9m0AuO5HavrjmhB0LdLEyrBBOa7bBjSGOQqhkatYb9hw6xuH1kMFm4kH5hyphenhyphen_vVwX8_BcOdvuYz2hTxhBNzzGFuWO9kB7k13RPJaDSXJpcZhjA3rsar2UhUQMc8kNEkT/s320/Screenshot-76.png" width="320" /></a></div>
Each of the 4 layers is totally, 100% handpainted, seamless and recolorable. It appears in the Misc. Category of CASt with the above purple as the default swatch.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zuIYGm7GO9b2SDmRFjUrDXGk9I3mi5SNslCGJYhB64mpHXef6kS3CQXXwFYcdzMPHsxXyChTOooLoIDrS71YKkUgHwa9C4zxcJKxSM9etWeMEMUedq7ueu-Jajv-cWEIwaXzzoNc2GWl/s1600/RedSwatch1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zuIYGm7GO9b2SDmRFjUrDXGk9I3mi5SNslCGJYhB64mpHXef6kS3CQXXwFYcdzMPHsxXyChTOooLoIDrS71YKkUgHwa9C4zxcJKxSM9etWeMEMUedq7ueu-Jajv-cWEIwaXzzoNc2GWl/s320/RedSwatch1.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">Red</span></th>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhf1hNB9vORkEutQk_4_rFEfATDIVWZSg8YcgWB5k8LDNnc7plsiglKg0YKNG1WWLj6bFEL9uQ6NzcxiS-CGQMialdyM6qd4iv95lezoTSYNMgDpcoRWCgjRL6wAn3w2YK3r3OzGtlh15/s1600/GoldSwatch1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhf1hNB9vORkEutQk_4_rFEfATDIVWZSg8YcgWB5k8LDNnc7plsiglKg0YKNG1WWLj6bFEL9uQ6NzcxiS-CGQMialdyM6qd4iv95lezoTSYNMgDpcoRWCgjRL6wAn3w2YK3r3OzGtlh15/s320/GoldSwatch1.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">Gold</span></th>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9MW0VphpDnKdQLW1YCzEkIMnWWpY3ssSiyT6JzcpuQcdPPIXoSS0cesURoFubrAafOeOg_NHabXmT7X9AgHT9Gfq-5qUgS67BQLcBwxqPkRq4Ou_EBJ-X2_gsw0Y7OAAQjkJ-HI2MH1ZY/s1600/SilverSwatch1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9MW0VphpDnKdQLW1YCzEkIMnWWpY3ssSiyT6JzcpuQcdPPIXoSS0cesURoFubrAafOeOg_NHabXmT7X9AgHT9Gfq-5qUgS67BQLcBwxqPkRq4Ou_EBJ-X2_gsw0Y7OAAQjkJ-HI2MH1ZY/s320/SilverSwatch1.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Silver</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCxm5sr7tfoqbelZP0bdOAJ19yIkmeEWhv80WA33SbHjAwLCBBHfmQt3gnWOOXKHXqCW2YP7SI72j2qa549IFNfi7TuCdbW6-s8QqAzo2S1PpJPLlWXFLGLtQLKlAY2xBEGYSfDsoz638Q/s1600/BlackSwatch1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCxm5sr7tfoqbelZP0bdOAJ19yIkmeEWhv80WA33SbHjAwLCBBHfmQt3gnWOOXKHXqCW2YP7SI72j2qa549IFNfi7TuCdbW6-s8QqAzo2S1PpJPLlWXFLGLtQLKlAY2xBEGYSfDsoz638Q/s320/BlackSwatch1.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Black</div>
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Obvs you don't have to use ffffff as your first channel. Mixing and matching, and using non-analogous colors, can result in some really neato looks.<br />
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Both Sims3Pack and Package files are included in the archive. The above inspiration swatches are not.<br />
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<u><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 24.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Download!</span></u><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/518482uj25gd2ue/Sunny%27s_Fine_Glitter_Pattern.7z">Sunny's Glitter Pattern</a><br />
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Now go forth and glitterify your sims world! <br />
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And HAPPY SIMBLREEN!ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-72138814240613527072015-10-23T06:13:00.001-05:002015-10-23T06:13:30.376-05:00Downloads-Poses-Story Tellers Pose DumpBecause random is random.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4J-qWAgX-fXuBBxJKTTxpZo5GbWdFJT5zJsXLfuYGNtvTNLYr6XAtKLV8lwVY01l6ERdYo3hbx9h9A89s2zlfMT8LOAIsNAL_OhoJZ07XiI2rknIv3a2yqg7F9ZLHTpSMfA_z6hEr0NH/s1600/StoryTellerTeaseLARGE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4J-qWAgX-fXuBBxJKTTxpZo5GbWdFJT5zJsXLfuYGNtvTNLYr6XAtKLV8lwVY01l6ERdYo3hbx9h9A89s2zlfMT8LOAIsNAL_OhoJZ07XiI2rknIv3a2yqg7F9ZLHTpSMfA_z6hEr0NH/s640/StoryTellerTeaseLARGE.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
These poses don't really go together and they don't fit anywhere else, but here they are all in one pose pack!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49XEXdaH4wG4_kxuMp-jflN4SqqPLq9G5wG3e1FhHXMWAl4QO_BlTOiol69YuWyfGC7KqqsRPh5MT1iueRCZUy6yuXrRMhY8Zql6vwWuWKK3XPpWswVdMXM3W3F8Vr4zs1gfIB4l3htT4/s1600/a_sunny_peer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49XEXdaH4wG4_kxuMp-jflN4SqqPLq9G5wG3e1FhHXMWAl4QO_BlTOiol69YuWyfGC7KqqsRPh5MT1iueRCZUy6yuXrRMhY8Zql6vwWuWKK3XPpWswVdMXM3W3F8Vr4zs1gfIB4l3htT4/s400/a_sunny_peer.jpg" width="275" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9M2MVpkNkx0uS7DUsBSWIejovbwPzw407BY3k91L5gzrgezBj-oE7kql12HNY9Gy8BvP1IyAoPw9yiLzO0JgLD6sZ65PDM9aChWskBeeL21QaW76v18lBF_EJOegKqvHsaLsKcOMaTiUa/s1600/a_sunny_squint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9M2MVpkNkx0uS7DUsBSWIejovbwPzw407BY3k91L5gzrgezBj-oE7kql12HNY9Gy8BvP1IyAoPw9yiLzO0JgLD6sZ65PDM9aChWskBeeL21QaW76v18lBF_EJOegKqvHsaLsKcOMaTiUa/s400/a_sunny_squint.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTw4z7gti6gObN2F5viEPB7GrYONUlE5KK6QnN-SHUVOj32oq6rKkK5R8VucIFOb1mrg7M2-z_oDxCjaC5O2nY4lWcZB3z2Ri4_tyRDc6fFmzB04N0WXKOgOJ23D_ttn9pyYZXck22ukBS/s1600/a_sunny_stand1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTw4z7gti6gObN2F5viEPB7GrYONUlE5KK6QnN-SHUVOj32oq6rKkK5R8VucIFOb1mrg7M2-z_oDxCjaC5O2nY4lWcZB3z2Ri4_tyRDc6fFmzB04N0WXKOgOJ23D_ttn9pyYZXck22ukBS/s400/a_sunny_stand1.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCHf97bcwscFpFfzbKlxUcd_D0A1rjxo2sThfaibF59cOFQi5Ksr9rB4FP47e9mMOk7U0bJVia_Mzd7Bv_AghxBzWPIPGoRrSExY2akKPqdR5OPCPTb_VRUZPQJgoyd55Xt0qIPlItBIQ/s1600/a_sunny_walktalk1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="337" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCHf97bcwscFpFfzbKlxUcd_D0A1rjxo2sThfaibF59cOFQi5Ksr9rB4FP47e9mMOk7U0bJVia_Mzd7Bv_AghxBzWPIPGoRrSExY2akKPqdR5OPCPTb_VRUZPQJgoyd55Xt0qIPlItBIQ/s400/a_sunny_walktalk1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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There are 4 stand alone poses. I know there are 8 million 'cross your arms and stand' poses out there, but that's mine now. The expression is totally neutral, so there's that.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKqOar-LnymGTfLQIIVmNhDGrsjK-_BR_szcdOZAZaHwb9WIsweJQbxSZUp6EtzwARvScllei7P9Aze77ynPFIoU5QS-5OwErBB6vKZdJDGSQdJwWBOhIsyz0IN5GrstuVrsosdoxtCmv/s1600/a_sunny_embracem1+f1%252C+m2+f2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKqOar-LnymGTfLQIIVmNhDGrsjK-_BR_szcdOZAZaHwb9WIsweJQbxSZUp6EtzwARvScllei7P9Aze77ynPFIoU5QS-5OwErBB6vKZdJDGSQdJwWBOhIsyz0IN5GrstuVrsosdoxtCmv/s640/a_sunny_embracem1+f1%252C+m2+f2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
There are these 2 couples poses. The male rig has been height adjusted so you might want to kick your height slider to the curb if you use them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Ro1bMMpcGvYNtJR6iHVQt0AtKRKFoZdh2DVckVd-kS3VVumQ9SE9pD9XnIDqHn5J3-4Jnf4SrMAMK3fr5UxCtnd2K-MjJ6LI3DPumtGjst3xaYx0oohcBdEDrvNFhDElrfLcSAfW8EzD/s1600/a_sweetlysleepingm1+f1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Ro1bMMpcGvYNtJR6iHVQt0AtKRKFoZdh2DVckVd-kS3VVumQ9SE9pD9XnIDqHn5J3-4Jnf4SrMAMK3fr5UxCtnd2K-MjJ6LI3DPumtGjst3xaYx0oohcBdEDrvNFhDElrfLcSAfW8EzD/s640/a_sweetlysleepingm1+f1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Finally, there's this sweet little couples pose inspired by a pic of real live people (zomg!) and that I used as a base for the newest comfort poses. Stick an ' a ' at the end of the pose code and the poses are centered at floor height for your OMSP usage pleasure.<br />
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As per usual there are two versions, poselisted and NOT poselisted. Only put one in your game if you only want one in your game. The above images are included in each archive.<br />
<br />
<u><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 24.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Download!</span></u><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/5fa7t7y78a87bt7/Sunny%27sStoryTellerPosePack-Poselisted%282%29.7z"><br /></a>
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/5fa7t7y78a87bt7/Sunny%27sStoryTellerPosePack-Poselisted%282%29.7z">Sunny's Story Teller PosePack- Poselisted</a><br />
<br />
S<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/v4daicz3hw97fpr/Sunny%27sStoryTellerPosePack-NOT_Poselisted%282%29.7z">unny's Story Teller PosePack- NOT Poselisted</a><br />
<br />
If you've used my poses in your game and you've posted pics somewhere, I'd love to see! Leave a link in the comments or tag me on Tumblr (sunnyssims) and I'll leave some love back!ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-91881032601071443542015-10-23T06:13:00.000-05:002015-12-13T20:52:08.926-06:00Downloads-Poses-Comfort Pt.2Continuing the part two theme, More Poses!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHz8iVu11Fr1WPfmri8e0RbMeYPM07TOqgSAuYd8bWnIoxkt8ubzyVrEVm97TuOJZiMr06TiXmZYnFfZzO7zgnKcSgsprz8A_PXPJ2hmCOk3GxPzGjOr_ucOm7zFfDS7NzOJxKxO3_Zk4L/s1600/ComfortPt2Tease.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHz8iVu11Fr1WPfmri8e0RbMeYPM07TOqgSAuYd8bWnIoxkt8ubzyVrEVm97TuOJZiMr06TiXmZYnFfZzO7zgnKcSgsprz8A_PXPJ2hmCOk3GxPzGjOr_ucOm7zFfDS7NzOJxKxO3_Zk4L/s640/ComfortPt2Tease.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_XrUMZLI82CO7tvzyXfbsa6ANndWBe3qOUbsCspkxI1HkfJOoquCXnomNShaXHrn5Q5sMs2vu4gWV5dvX8jRUYad5zAu-22coCDFTKmIENJ9lqvZbvZlyH89iCf9jEWs_YUbgqKBdwGi/s1600/a_sunny_comfortm3+f3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_XrUMZLI82CO7tvzyXfbsa6ANndWBe3qOUbsCspkxI1HkfJOoquCXnomNShaXHrn5Q5sMs2vu4gWV5dvX8jRUYad5zAu-22coCDFTKmIENJ9lqvZbvZlyH89iCf9jEWs_YUbgqKBdwGi/s640/a_sunny_comfortm3+f3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6UytP4ANLdhSTsoTKPrnE_Rom0gnIxeWo10fqShnk5PhPWSu9k4t51Nm5THwVBGNcS7W3uLfSUj8TG_HtNgbN4CmkDBs6chZ3iyBMHkld9pISdbhHU-S9-SUZHckTGFYJE5iePNq_rAzD/s1600/a_sunny_comfortm4+f4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6UytP4ANLdhSTsoTKPrnE_Rom0gnIxeWo10fqShnk5PhPWSu9k4t51Nm5THwVBGNcS7W3uLfSUj8TG_HtNgbN4CmkDBs6chZ3iyBMHkld9pISdbhHU-S9-SUZHckTGFYJE5iePNq_rAzD/s640/a_sunny_comfortm4+f4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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As you can see above there are two sets of snap together poses. On each, add an ' a ' at the end of the pose code and the poses are centered at floor height for your OMSP using pleasure.<br />
<br />
Per the usual the above images (as well as an image for 4a) are included in the archive. There are two versions, poselisted and NOT poselisted. Only put one in your game or you'll have two in your game. <br />
<br />
<br />
<u><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 24.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Download!</span></u><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/mg2mf4uejcacew4/Sunny%27s_Comfort_Pt.2_PosePack-Poselisted%282%29.7z">Sunny's Comfort Pt.2-Poselisted</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/o6hnbqul6j1uwlu/Sunny%27s_Comfort_Pt.2_PosePack-NOT_Poselisted%282%29.7z">Sunny's Comfort Pt.2-NOT Poselisted</a><br />
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<br />
If you used my poses in your game I WANNA SEE! Leave a linky dink in the comments or tag me on tumblr (sunnyssims) and I'll leave some love back!ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-17141381748171387902015-10-23T06:12:00.000-05:002015-11-03T21:02:43.327-06:00Downloads-Poses-Emotional Reaction Pt.2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Happy Simblreen! Have some poses.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzIE1bb7PXBGax7g9L7mKJ0_qxQFHttk4RDshWysUTzbslrK_vxjimnX866IU49tB-WKUKDQLshfjQdoQBlQ2anJMx4pBAqc_cQidmaIv4AIv-58_4uHuyp7j2rz7tXujV0rWk6KpN6J_/s1600/a_sunny_glare1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzIE1bb7PXBGax7g9L7mKJ0_qxQFHttk4RDshWysUTzbslrK_vxjimnX866IU49tB-WKUKDQLshfjQdoQBlQ2anJMx4pBAqc_cQidmaIv4AIv-58_4uHuyp7j2rz7tXujV0rWk6KpN6J_/s320/a_sunny_glare1.jpg" width="234" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw8DnibIgm3aLYoP89OnB-vRI7knKjaukgdxCVeHE-7DKIvSLVpbdn4DT2loblgVG2B0L2oa2yYV23cZzBEbf6Oe2hoxhcgxH_12HAdn0C2c-T171stpQDkHLYH2PrKtKoOkA-Hbiw7Z7w/s1600/a_sunny_mariahcries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw8DnibIgm3aLYoP89OnB-vRI7knKjaukgdxCVeHE-7DKIvSLVpbdn4DT2loblgVG2B0L2oa2yYV23cZzBEbf6Oe2hoxhcgxH_12HAdn0C2c-T171stpQDkHLYH2PrKtKoOkA-Hbiw7Z7w/s320/a_sunny_mariahcries.jpg" width="235" /></a></div>
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6 Poses of varying reactions originally used in Secrets of the Sixkillers and one random reaction used for Simblreen that I couldn't resist offering <strike>because we made such archaic gestures of disgust when I was growing up with the dinosaurs thank you very much</strike>.<br />
<br />
As per usual, the above images are included in the download. There are two options, poselisted and NOT poselisted. Only put one in your game at a time. <span style="font-family: inherit;">Otherwise you'<span style="font-family: inherit;">ll have two in your game.</span></span><br />
<br />
Huge thanks to Gemma for giggling over the gag me pose with me.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 24.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
<u>Download!</u></span><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/5icdddnc1xccdd4/Sunny%27s_Emotional_Reaction_Pt2_PosePack-Poselisted.7z"><br /></a>
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/5icdddnc1xccdd4/Sunny%27s_Emotional_Reaction_Pt2_PosePack-Poselisted.7z">Sunny's Emotional Reaction Pt.2-Poselisted</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/wjo1i3cozg382zi/Sunny%27s_Emotional_Reaction_Pt2_PosePack-NOT_Poselisted.7z">Sunny's Emotional Reaction Pt.2- NOT Poselisted</a><br />
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I truly hope you enjoy! If you use these poses in your game and post the pictures somewhere I'd LOVE to see! Leave a link in the comments or tag me on Tumblr (sunnyssims) and I'll leave some love back! <br />
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ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-88122692175173827712015-09-13T21:57:00.001-05:002016-04-05T11:41:39.399-05:00Chapter 3.14- Painful Reflections<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHv2fpynJVBoB1UXAE-HUJWrqvA14wRaa2nohDARKQsXsmA8CobZ_YBySLwChBgvepYASOex4oU0EeMpaT4N3RrExsWv9GwucCys6QnIb8yC7yM6egXcwnJ0RVZ2M93T1SIWsnhOrY0WxP/s1600/Screenshot-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHv2fpynJVBoB1UXAE-HUJWrqvA14wRaa2nohDARKQsXsmA8CobZ_YBySLwChBgvepYASOex4oU0EeMpaT4N3RrExsWv9GwucCys6QnIb8yC7yM6egXcwnJ0RVZ2M93T1SIWsnhOrY0WxP/s640/Screenshot-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Dust
Ceiling More Often,</i> Mariah made mental notes for herself. <i>Buy Better Tape.</i> Well over
half of the balloons she’d taped to the ceiling, one by one, had fallen to the floor. She’d kicked the
offending balloons off to the side and hoped the twins would think it was intentional when they
looked back at pictures when they were older.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Vivia could care less right now, at least. She’d spent the entire morning watching Mariah hang the
decorations, squealing with delight whenever one of them dropped into her waiting hands. The
bright chime of the doorbell claimed her attention now.
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“Da-da-da-da-da-da!” Panted Vivia as she sped to the door.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Mariah wasn’t nearly as excited. She’d still not gotten used to how cool Roger’s visits were.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
As often as he could slip away he came to play with the kids. Tea parties with Dove and Vivia, cars
and trucks with Ceeven, trips to the park or to the farm his mother still kept up were highlights of
the kids’ lives the past two years.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
For her, however, these visits were no more than punctures in the idyllic bubble she surrounded her
family with.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
But she had no time for such painful reflections now. Now is the time for a party.
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<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
<i>SPARKLE SPAM!!!</i> (You know I love you guys, right? :D)</span></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Chill, bro. It’s not like I cake blocked you on purpose.”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
<i>/SPARKLE SPAM!</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRjxJLNWX2QSZzEiKUrxIlMRmgwMcFVbd6oyEgrVn1cht-UVga1itnh2hSBI9Rvqcr4-6Hq8Iivl82MtaCVmAyYp9KlhlRtgFepFx2_aSijiwYxflq6EWLDwCqxeTPTDt4JyoyD6rGc5z/s1600/Screenshot-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRjxJLNWX2QSZzEiKUrxIlMRmgwMcFVbd6oyEgrVn1cht-UVga1itnh2hSBI9Rvqcr4-6Hq8Iivl82MtaCVmAyYp9KlhlRtgFepFx2_aSijiwYxflq6EWLDwCqxeTPTDt4JyoyD6rGc5z/s640/Screenshot-16.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My
mom would be there, too,” Roger continued. “So it’s not just one adult with three kids in the
wilderness.”
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Roger had followed Mariah into the kitchen for cake. Dove had invited a ‘friend’ from school over
who was thoroughly annoying Mariah with his rudeness and she couldn’t sit at the dining table with
him, watching him shovel cake then chew with his mouth open, belching loudly. Ugh. Not that she’d
expected Roger to follow her in here either.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“I know there is no formal custody arrangement, but a weekend with my own kids should be my
right. You know I’ll take good care of them. I have good tents and sleeping bags. There will be
plenty of food, we’re not foraging or anything.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Closing her eyes, Mariah tried to focus on his words instead of her rising panic.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
He wasn’t asking to see them every other day. He wasn’t even asking for every weekend. It’s
camping. Roger was a great woodsman- <i>In His Own Head!</i> He had lots of experience with
weekends outdoors- <i>With His Dad in Charge! His Dad’s Dead!</i> Sally would be there- <i>Sally
Was Scatterbrained!</i> It was only a few miles out of town- <i>With Limited Cell Service! Out of
SCREAMING Distance Even! What if Someone Gets Hurt?!</i>
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Okay,” Mariah said, nodding once, sharply.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Offended when he didn’t immediately answer, Mariah was ready to change her answer when he
pushed his plate away from him and turned to beam at her.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Thanks, ‘Riah,” he grinned and her heart skipped.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Stunned that he’d used his old familiar nickname for her, Mariah was glued to her chair trying to
figure out what it might have meant as put his dishes into the sink.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“I’ll pick them up bright and early Friday then,” he said before hugging the kids goodnight.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
At least she had three days to think about how wonderful it was to hear ‘Riah’ again before seeing
him one more time.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Mariah!
What have you been feeding Ceeven? He’s almost as tall as Pat!” Tibi squealed, running in to hug
her baby sister.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Where is Pat?” Mariah looked around on the floor, as if her nephew might be crawling around
somewhere she couldn’t see.
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“Not there,” Tibi chuckled. “Vivia caught us as we came in and insisted he go play tag with them
all.”
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“Aw, I wanted to see him.”
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“Well, he <i>is</i> here. You’ll see him soon I’m sure. So tell me,” Tibi got serious. “Have you
gotten any letters from the grave from Abuella?”
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“Letters… From the grave… From Abuella Sabria…” Mariah repeated slowly, Tibi nodding.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Yeah, I know that sounds crazy but, we’ve found <i>two</i> now. Both of them about the house
and something that’s needed attention. Since I inherited the house and you got the Institute I
figured you must be finding letters about the Institute also.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
The Institute Tibi referred to was the Appaloosa Plains Spiritualist Institute their
grandmother had founded. It was originally just the building where her clients came for a reading,
but she’d added a school for psychics and mediums, spiritualists and other fakers later on. The town
wasn’t entirely sure if it was supposed to be proud of such a landmark place or ashamed that their
current reputation in the West was for churning out a long line of quack tarot card readers. And
Abuella Sabria had thought it fitting to leave it to Mariah in her will.
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“You’ve <i>found</i>?”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Looking annoyed, Tibi punched Mariah in the shoulder.
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“Ow! What was that for?”
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“For acting like such an idiot, of course!” Tibi frowned. “You <i>know</i> Abuella was psychic! She
might not have been the happiest person after Papi died, but that’s no reason to act like that.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
And of course, <i>found.</i> How could she have mailed them?
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Anyway, there was a loose floor board in the dining room. Pat tripped over it and it came up. There
was a letter underneath telling us the floor was warping because the foundation had shifted and
needed repair. Another one was on a shelf of one of the closets. That one told us there was a leak
in the attic. They’ve each got two dates on them. One for when they were written and one for the
month we found them. It’s so cool!”
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“Well, no,” Mariah felt a little ashamed. She’d had precious little to do with the Institute over the
years. “I haven’t found any letters. But I don’t really go up to the Institute much. Or at all.”
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“Why Not?!?” Tibi punched her in the other shoulder.
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Not feeling a reply was necessary, Mariah contented herself with scowling at her sister while
massaging what she was sure was a blooming bruise.
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“Your kids are about to be in school all the time,” Not that Tibi waited for an answer. “You don’t do
anything with your time but clean. And trust me, your house is plenty clean.”
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Seeing Mariah still unconvinced, Tibi plowed on. “I don’t know how much Layla left you, but after all
you’ve done to the house, I’m sure it’s not nearly as much as it once was. And with three growing
kids? Pat and Lee cost us a fortune in food, clothes and shoes! I can’t imagine having another one
to pay for! If Abuella’d left it to me I’d be up there every day making sure it’s making me a
buttload!”
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Tibi had hit her secret sore point, and Mariah scrambled to put on a poker face. Of course funds
were short. And all three kids would be in school next week so it wouldn’t be like she’d have to pay
for daycare or a babysitter. All recent correspondence with the Directress had been a plea for
money. Why couldn’t she go up there and make the Institute make ends meet for her? And if that
didn’t work, might as well put on the old ‘act’ and pretend she was psychic too. A paycheck is a
paycheck.
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Finally, she met Tibi’s eye again.
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“There it is,” smirked Tibi. “I knew you’d see it my way. And I want to hear about <i>all</i> the
letters you find.”
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The first Friday of fall had arrived. At seven A.M sharp Roger had arrived to whisk her kids away for
a camping trip. His smile accompanied a jerk in her stomach. She’d not forgotten his recent thaw.
Nor had she forgotten how wonderful he was.
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But the moment they’d left she’d raced inside to shower and dress before finding herself standing
all too soon in front of the legacy her Abuella had left her. The Institute. An entirely different jerk in
her stomach reminded her that standing out here did nothing for her dwindling savings and she
stepped forward.</span></span></div>
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“Finally. Ten minutes later and the entire place might have gone up in flames. Everyone panicking,
thinking she might have been wrong about something... anything.” the woman behind the desk
scoffed, though she was visibly relieved as she came around the desk to take Mariah’s hands. “It
would have ruined our reputation if such a thing had happened... and gotten out. But no matter.
You’re here, darling. You’re here. And you’re going to make us famous.”
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Mariah fixed a grin on her face, hoping her bemusement wasn’t showing as she tugged her hands
out of the strangers grasp. “I’m sorry,” she said. “People don’t touch me. I don’t touch people. No-
No offence. Prophecy? My grandmother made a prophecy about me? And you... you are... hang on.”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Trying to shake off being so horribly wrong footed she pulled up mental note after mental note from
the paper work about the Institute. This must be the lady who’d been managing... Del... Della?
Daphne? Delphine.
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“You are Delphine.”
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“Yes, Mariah.” She leaned in conspiratorially, too close for Mariah’s tastes. “You really will be a
wonderful asset.”
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Mariah chuckled, ducking her head, feigning a modesty she neither knew nor felt.
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It had been so long since she’d had pretended being psychic she’d almost forgotten how easy it was
sometimes. People had short memories. Mariah might have mostly ignored her inheritance, but
she’d usually attended the annual meetings. As Directress, Delphine’s name was always brought
up. Especially in light of the shortage of funds lately.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Oh, there’s no need to be shy about it. You’ll love it here, darling. We all know the burden of the
inner eye. Hold your head up. Be proud of it! In fact, I can show you so much more to be proud of.
We’ve worked hard to uphold your grandmother’s traditions here. Safeguarding her papers and
prophecies, carrying on her legacy. This building, even. Sabria had very strict standards for how it
ought to look. We recently had the entire lobby redone to update and modernize. Come this way.”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrAjNaTMRmYH2npJ6Nv-sKf9Kto7yFv_HCgRWudwU0k7JSo64hFQ2frgqNHZbrnYU_vgyhLhqj0V7qIDLwOdVNov4MRvMNkaSdZcpyZ8enAr9p4jGIr4-p2Xf5jv1ucltMOUlJRkpoMgqw/s1600/Screenshot-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrAjNaTMRmYH2npJ6Nv-sKf9Kto7yFv_HCgRWudwU0k7JSo64hFQ2frgqNHZbrnYU_vgyhLhqj0V7qIDLwOdVNov4MRvMNkaSdZcpyZ8enAr9p4jGIr4-p2Xf5jv1ucltMOUlJRkpoMgqw/s640/Screenshot-27.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Stepping through a set of double doors, Mariah snorted.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“I'm sorry, darling. Did you say something?” Delphine half turned
.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“No. No. I didn’t say anything,” Mariah said aloud. <i>Just give me a wand and teach me Flagrante
and I'll be Hermione for Halloween! HAHAHAHA!!</i>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTSL24x6HprUJ4dznhHV1oHeAs4Qgu-3RXE7LmyJtBwTP07X-DnybygDyndbGZYn2qfVZGrR9YTH9sE8CyWatgi4nqtOIUf0iLHwY386tfckNdAwESNE3oT2HDw-myEalC1yRgSkYvRYg/s1600/Screenshot-28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTSL24x6HprUJ4dznhHV1oHeAs4Qgu-3RXE7LmyJtBwTP07X-DnybygDyndbGZYn2qfVZGrR9YTH9sE8CyWatgi4nqtOIUf0iLHwY386tfckNdAwESNE3oT2HDw-myEalC1yRgSkYvRYg/s640/Screenshot-28.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
This is the Camera. I know this room is a little daunting for first-timers, but you’ll soon know your
way around it. Your grandmother designed it as a portal; a place to pass from coldness to warmth,
to get your bearings and check your compass- quite literally, darling. Bathrooms are the South West
and North Eastern doors. Classrooms are West, North West and South East. The Eastern door leads
to the meditation garden. We’ll go North. The North doors lead us to reading rooms, as well as
stairways to the offices.”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Mouth open, Mariah shot her side-eye. Seriously? She needed a compass to navigate the building?
She couldn’t wait to tell Ro- ... *ahem
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyYL1gINk-iV4a1iwcbuMlZ_H4dxBHRmjl8he57-BhZNlhau6WXxZ4lbRumO86hDSJGw0M-SFD2VX4BSNssm0xlhlDUV_tmeSi2NCnwKC7T2T4wrx4WbKviAqWg2HtKYoUt3rT20Uwoyx/s1600/Screenshot-29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyYL1gINk-iV4a1iwcbuMlZ_H4dxBHRmjl8he57-BhZNlhau6WXxZ4lbRumO86hDSJGw0M-SFD2VX4BSNssm0xlhlDUV_tmeSi2NCnwKC7T2T4wrx4WbKviAqWg2HtKYoUt3rT20Uwoyx/s640/Screenshot-29.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Anyone wanting to work here as a psychic was required to take tarot lessons from your
grandmother before they were granted a position. And then only the best were accepted here.
We’ve continued that tradition and added extra tarot meditation classes to refine our skills and
abilities. So despite our warning about the magnitude of your gift, we’d still like for you to attend
tarot classes before we assign you a reading room, darling.”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Mariah nodded sagely. Whatever they wanted. ‘Magnitude of her gift.’ *snort
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
An open door ahead allowed the <i>*rrrrrrrrripp</i> <i>*rrrrrrrrip</i> sound of someone shuffling cards to filter to
them.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Delphine?” The voice that floated toward them was low and melodic.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
She smiled and looked down as though embarrassed.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Ah. That will be Christie. You should meet her.”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZWrYKMc5YpwkhprvJgXpcgKyUmsJNEnY8YY7kYkiGvEnBkaFvQiC6_UqK0R7hSSemeaEpN2NaSE0At0gS2NmnVI875q-KB4jBNrvwxm7vU_SAW-3KI_9jXZxGawx5JTvs01FZR07CK09/s1600/Screenshot-30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZWrYKMc5YpwkhprvJgXpcgKyUmsJNEnY8YY7kYkiGvEnBkaFvQiC6_UqK0R7hSSemeaEpN2NaSE0At0gS2NmnVI875q-KB4jBNrvwxm7vU_SAW-3KI_9jXZxGawx5JTvs01FZR07CK09/s640/Screenshot-30.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
The woman behind the desk didn’t stop her endless shuffling of cards as they entered. Up and over,
around and around. Mariah’s jaw dropped as she watched the show. This woman wasn’t just
shuffling the cards. She made them dance and fly in her fingers.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“As I’m sure you've noticed, Christie, darling,” Delphine began, “Mariah has arrived!”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
For several long moments, Christie didn’t move. Then, at last, the corners of her mouth inched
upward fractionally. With a long, lazy blink she finally looked at Mariah.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCZmHo8L_F3QoRvQKg9jNkWLh6BM-R5CONwoZqXAsHkqYWhK2yscEmLfUgZXT6Dy6rdMWrhyphenhyphen4XikCzE5Yo_wffQksAvko-IidYmSjMzo71hl7OuMOAmQAPuiv1Lcq8AF9FuhUW8xtvkMM/s1600/Screenshot-31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCZmHo8L_F3QoRvQKg9jNkWLh6BM-R5CONwoZqXAsHkqYWhK2yscEmLfUgZXT6Dy6rdMWrhyphenhyphen4XikCzE5Yo_wffQksAvko-IidYmSjMzo71hl7OuMOAmQAPuiv1Lcq8AF9FuhUW8xtvkMM/s640/Screenshot-31.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“My greetings to you.”
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
The sneer behind the words made Mariah’s blood boil.
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Would you indulge me?”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Still the cards flashed and continued their endless rearranging.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Bringing her chin up, Mariah curled her own lip with a brief nod.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Before she could see how, the cards were laid in front of her, a perfect ribbon of eyes staring
unfixed.
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Christie sat back in the chair, her gaze unwavering.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Choose your card,” she lilted, her hand lightly sweeping through the air.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Her gesture was as elegant as her voice and Mariah had to fight back a frown. How could a woman
so sloppily dressed have such a voice? Such grace?
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Barely had she formed her thoughts than Delphine’s muttered ‘Showoff’ gave a clearer picture.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Carelessly glancing over the cards she chose one, placing a finger on it.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“You can turn it over.”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Mariah nearly lost the card trying to give a graceful flourish as she flipped it over. Blushing, she
looked at it. The card was... weird looking. Not what she was expecting. Where was the stained
glass looking picture? </span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLThgHZkSekNFn7sp-USyqD1G1j9hbXDhnLzfs-jSnRgwkINY2BuQ1tJYEbM61FPwTcOIMk_Znna1Rgy5gQGkbhqXaAyX1oqrZtP9LunIOvOZFx1F2vtHMrTxrO13JfuqUYKitfh8i5D7/s1600/rvwhai2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLThgHZkSekNFn7sp-USyqD1G1j9hbXDhnLzfs-jSnRgwkINY2BuQ1tJYEbM61FPwTcOIMk_Znna1Rgy5gQGkbhqXaAyX1oqrZtP9LunIOvOZFx1F2vtHMrTxrO13JfuqUYKitfh8i5D7/s320/rvwhai2.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“The priestess!” Delphine exclaimed.
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Mariah looked up to see Christie looking at her in puzzlement. At least she wasn’t the only one in
the room confused.
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Well! That’s certainly enlightening. We’ll leave you to your meditations, Christie, darling. I’ve got
the letter set aside and I’m dying for her to read it. Come on, Mariah.”
</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Delphine chattered contentedly, endlessly, as they passed by more reading rooms, up a flight of
stairs and down more corridors with yet more doors.
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The farther in she was taken, the more Mariah felt lost. At this rate she really needed some of these
rooms to have signs on them or she’d never know her way around.
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“This is my office,” Delphine explained as they neared the end of yet another hall of doors. “Inside,
on the table by the window is a letter your grandmother left for you. She dated and timestamped
the envelope even. We all joked that we had our very own Forward to the Past letter to deliver. It
seemed too good to be true. But here you are. We have much to discuss, but I’d let you read the
letter in private first. I’ll be down the hall whenever you’re ready.”
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9jYs3w1-5wTH1uT5opp0vqwlsNqwmH9N1O0sVJK1ivN3xk6HgThhKUBRQXJeRNN-ylI7nrh1eEvglP3IhK70DBfWf_9MSThOdUKQdVRQAR4SVP9PeO1xevHhAUHitJAHg21H7eeMdyJ08/s1600/Screenshot-35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9jYs3w1-5wTH1uT5opp0vqwlsNqwmH9N1O0sVJK1ivN3xk6HgThhKUBRQXJeRNN-ylI7nrh1eEvglP3IhK70DBfWf_9MSThOdUKQdVRQAR4SVP9PeO1xevHhAUHitJAHg21H7eeMdyJ08/s640/Screenshot-35.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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The letter was right where Delphine said it would be. The decade old glue of the envelope was
flaked and cracked, disclosing its contents with ease.
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Sighing at the thought of how much she hated Abuella Sabria, Mariah threw herself into the wicker
chair thoroughly prepared to be insulted.
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1kZaSGDb7m5WyzYiR-feQCFkJSKzuPMS3QcAhe4Ox_cF_Ezy_bNML0ySSh3M3-Nkp8HnVm6W0euFyuSuL9dcjaYsKpHPMUSVnrIe4yljeOQSgw80WMo4np1kZulGaBQJtnvQ0NiJjWHZ/s1600/Screenshot-36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1kZaSGDb7m5WyzYiR-feQCFkJSKzuPMS3QcAhe4Ox_cF_Ezy_bNML0ySSh3M3-Nkp8HnVm6W0euFyuSuL9dcjaYsKpHPMUSVnrIe4yljeOQSgw80WMo4np1kZulGaBQJtnvQ0NiJjWHZ/s640/Screenshot-36.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My Dearest
Mariah,
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Don’t fool yourself. That heading is for those who will be seeing the top fold of this. However, I’m
sure even <i>you</i> already knew that. If you’re reading this, you’ve followed your path to the
letter haven’t you, my little liar? How many more people will you lie to before this finally ends? Too
many. But you will make my Institute famous, no matter what happens to you in the end. And so I
shall end this with a final warning you’ll ignore. Change. Now. Stop the lying. Stop the deceit. For
the sorrow you sow now, your children will reap tenfold.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
And tell Del there’s a leak in the South West bathrooms.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
And listen to Ceeven about Poppy please. He doesn’t need more grief from you than you’re already
going to give him.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfcDnlk-75myqGlwnlhS94BySNanuEzoi7HXxj-VG3IDoNmoWcysfElkBg8xIdNV00It4iRW0cmjgM-wMlCiVXuCRkCmjz0d9d_ahvi1RPqlQbMmKF8fxVDFNcadew-Lp8AqqvccXx8r0v/s1600/Screenshot-37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfcDnlk-75myqGlwnlhS94BySNanuEzoi7HXxj-VG3IDoNmoWcysfElkBg8xIdNV00It4iRW0cmjgM-wMlCiVXuCRkCmjz0d9d_ahvi1RPqlQbMmKF8fxVDFNcadew-Lp8AqqvccXx8r0v/s640/Screenshot-37.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<i>Liar.</i> All she’d ever heard from Abuella Sabria was “Liar.” She didn’t lie as a child. Unless she
wanted to scare people into leaving her alone. It never merited the antagonism she’d received at
the hands of her grandmother. And now? What was she lying about now? Well... She was
<i>going</i> to be lying if she intended to make up visions and predictions to earn a little bit of
money.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Who was Poppy? Ceeven was barely babbling. There was no Poppy. His creepy little doll was
Poppet. Or Puppet. She wasn’t entirely sure. Baby babble was baby babble. Babble. Like the letter.
Stupid letter.
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Mariah let it flutter to the floor with a sigh.
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm0ik-dovGMbTSGGaZhmZilpIhBoSsjRX19P82AwIOE6r393qHi6ElCAOv3G10-ayF5LpLTfESLy4D_RbryHGHqqTCHcAHLYqA7gE4erP14ngMAxDksxS_GgpRjER5bF5mFlaCKE44rYT2/s1600/Screenshot-38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm0ik-dovGMbTSGGaZhmZilpIhBoSsjRX19P82AwIOE6r393qHi6ElCAOv3G10-ayF5LpLTfESLy4D_RbryHGHqqTCHcAHLYqA7gE4erP14ngMAxDksxS_GgpRjER5bF5mFlaCKE44rYT2/s640/Screenshot-38.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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The mention of her children reaping what she’d sown ate at her. Her children were her darlings.
They were perfect! And she would make sure everything was smooth and easy for them. No bullies
at school bothered her darling without Mariah making sure the child was punished. She helped
Dove do her homework when Dove wanted to do it. She’d made Dove’s week last May by taking her Charles
C. Cheddar’s kiddie casino instead of going to school when a substitute teacher was in class. Her
children would take nothing from her but happy memories.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
And Charles C. Cheddar’s had eaten away the little bit she’d had squirreled away. If Sabria wanted
happy great grandkids, she never would have left her that letter. She should know that money makes
the world go round. And right now, Mariah needed to lie her way into a little more money.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
But wouldn’t she just be affirming Abuella Sabria if she did this?
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Glancing at the table she had a flash of inspiration.
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Grabbing the deck of tarot cards she clumsily shuffled them, finally pulling out a card from the
middle.
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Great. Another picture she didn’t understand. But she’d learn it. She’d learn it and fool them all.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“And the fish went flopping around all over the ground and slapped up against Dove’s leg and got
her socks all slimy and then she screamed, but I didn’t scream ‘cause I wasn’t scared. It’s just a fish.
Fish aren’t scary. They’re kinda gross though. I mean, they really really stink. Even the water
smelled like the fish and then they eat worms. EW! Worms! But Daddy made us each put a worm on
a hook. Ceeven couldn’t do his and I hadda do it for him because he didn’t wanna hurt it, but it’s
just a worm. It don’t feel nothin’. Dove did do her worm but she wouldn’t do the fish when it ate her
worm. And we ate the fish for dinner one night and I wanted to know if that means I ate a worm.
Daddy says-”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Vivia danced around on the spot, talking a mile a minute. Obviously at least one of her kids had a
grand time with their grandmother Sally and their dad camping.
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9XRR1GumI4a6-dXBtEzAONPHl-9SmFpFMo5cQnniw5OXQlwLni8wUp7DaHRVSUlVKHF_rJBe8hdjcOkBCYC2hxjjSqqpVWWJPeuZ_dLKSRbQ-nUVXz3XZe9y2sh66L-lw6T3pvljd2bay/s1600/Screenshot-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9XRR1GumI4a6-dXBtEzAONPHl-9SmFpFMo5cQnniw5OXQlwLni8wUp7DaHRVSUlVKHF_rJBe8hdjcOkBCYC2hxjjSqqpVWWJPeuZ_dLKSRbQ-nUVXz3XZe9y2sh66L-lw6T3pvljd2bay/s640/Screenshot-41.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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“Bye, Dovey! Love ya, honey!” Mariah heard Roger call before speeding off in his bug. Watching her
oldest trudge past she wondered if she was going to miss Roger that much.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Dove?” Mariah called, and received no answer.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“But the skunk stayed way far away which is good because I don’t like tomatoes and Gramma said
I’d have to take a bath in tomato juice if I got too close and scared it. But the porcupine-”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“-Viv-”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“-let us get way close to it which Daddy said was really rare because porcupines are super shy. But
he didn’t wanna let me try to touch it. I tried to anyway but it did this thing where it sounded like it
growled and then it puffed all up and all its fur went stickin’ up and Daddy grabbed-”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“-Viv!-”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“-me and made us run. Ceeven didn’t run though. He wanted to see if he-“
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“VIVIA!”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Huh?”
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“Do you know what’s wrong with Dove?”
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Vivia gaped at her.
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Almost missing it as it was so gentle, Ceeven tugged at her sash.
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“Kelly?” his question was almost as soft as his touch.
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“Kelly?” she repeated, looking from one twin to the other.
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Vivia closed her mouth and looked thoughtful.
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Sighing in frustration she rephrased her question louder.
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“Who is Kelly?”
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A cry rent the air making even Vivia jump.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Kelly is Dad’s new girlfriend and I HAAAAAATE HEEEEERRRR!!! AAAARRRRRGGGHHH!” Dove
screamed, throwing her backpack aside and bolting into the house.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Mariah<span style="font-family: inherit;"> felt as though she</span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">’</span></span>d been punched in the stomach</span>. Roger had a girlfriend? Who went on camping trips with him? And his mom and
his kids?? Without her knowing?!? Without… <i>her</i>??
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Another gentle tug on her waistband.
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“Kelly,” Ceeven repeated himself, nodding slowly.
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“Yeah, Dove really didn’t like Kelly. Kelly helped with the porcupine and was the one who got
Ceeven out of the way since he just stood there when dad told him to back away before it charged. I
didn’t know porcupine’s would charge. I thought that was supposed to be a bull when there’s a red
flag. And Ceeven wasn’t wearing red so no bull would charge at-”
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Roll reveal!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Career is: Psychic- Con Artist Branch</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Not like that’s a surprise.
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Charles C. Cheddar’s is a reference to Chuck E. Cheese’s. A place American over indulgent
parents take their hyper children to teach them the joys of gambling and gluttony via pizza and coin
gaming. I hate that place. lol.
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
For the young-uns and unenlightened? Forward to the Past is another joke, in particular referencing
Part II and III. As for the priestess and the last drawn card? Well... I'll let you decide. ;) FOR THE RECORD: The meanings of the cards aren't really important right now. If you don't know them, don't want to look them up, it's okay. I'll explain The High Priestess when it's time. The second is The Fool. Because Mariah is about to do something not entirely... wise. </span></div>
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ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-29683549267319599242015-07-05T10:47:00.000-05:002015-07-05T10:47:57.488-05:00Selfie Sunday and Apologies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFa8NCG04fBdznZ01T3WTNKVt7NQ9X_q_p5oMXcP2rVY32QNGCrvZBGJYSnnRREU6Vbpeo-jN2ZlA7VSdOOVmrRIuH2YhQ-SrJ92kdrao6aqW-BeaPdE0UQnczohnfuadlaa7qz2ALitG1/s1600/selfiesunday.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFa8NCG04fBdznZ01T3WTNKVt7NQ9X_q_p5oMXcP2rVY32QNGCrvZBGJYSnnRREU6Vbpeo-jN2ZlA7VSdOOVmrRIuH2YhQ-SrJ92kdrao6aqW-BeaPdE0UQnczohnfuadlaa7qz2ALitG1/s320/selfiesunday.png" width="229" /></a></div>
<br />
About 4 weeks ago I took this pic as a joke for hubs. Turned out the
joke was on me after I landed in the hospital later that night. I’m not
dead, I’m not ignoring messages or comments or posts, I’m just a little sore
(still) and trying to get my life back on track.<br />
<br />
This
will sound incredibly silly, but I had severe heat/sun stroke and
severe second degree sunburns across my neck, back, shoulders and both legs after working outside at my parents home. I
didn’t even know sunburn could be so bad they would talk about possible
skin grafting. (We did Not need to go that route, thankfully.) Anyhow, parents home is 500 miles away. I wasn't hospitalized the entire
time, but there was no way I could drive my van/kids back home on my
own until few days ago. It took 2 days for my knees to forgive me for the trip as it is. My autistic child still hasn't forgiven Mommy for her stint with stupid and has to be touching me at all times to make sure I'm okay. His healing will probably take a little longer. :( <br />
<br />
For
anyone wondering, I did have on sunscreen (SPF 50). I did drink
water. I just ignored a lot of other ‘signs’ that things weren’t going
so well. (Once the power tools start overheating after 15 minutes
use it might be too hot out for <i>you</i>, too. We won't go into the hallucinations about the belt sander and high torque drill and their conspiracy to overthrow me at the annual power tools ball. O_o)<br />
<br />
Sitting
at my computer hurts my shoulders and my knees quite a bit still so I’m not back at this
moment, despite being at my home again. But I feel horrible about not responding to all the
things I see going on. If you’ve messaged/commented/posted and haven’t
had a response please be patient just a little while longer. Healing at home is better, but it will still take some time. <3ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-7547152950370503362015-06-04T08:47:00.001-05:002016-03-24T16:01:43.927-05:00Chapter 3.13- Less Than Frigid<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;">*****Language warning… again. Or just skip the text below the 14th pic. ;) *****</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Making it to the school with 5 minutes to spare, Mariah glowed with unexpected pride. But today an officious little letter had summoned her, inviting her to a conference with Ms.Ponds and Mrs.Duncan about her darling little Dove.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Most likely, they wanted to put her in the gifted program, Mariah thought smugly. She, herself, had never been considered for that elite class, a point she had seethed over it until graduation. Now was her chance to prove to Mrs.Duncan how wrong she’d been to overlook a Sixkiller.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> The grim cinderblock walls Mariah had been so familiar with were long banished, replaced with plaster and moldings, bright lights and cheerful colors. When they’d toured the building for Open House Dove had pouted over all the blue.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “It’s a boys’ school!” She’d lamented, begging hard not to be subjected to the torture of walking these halls each day.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
Ms.Ponds had taken special time with Dove that evening, trying to coax her into a state of acceptance. She’d succeeded, barely, by assuring her when she went upstairs as a third grader, the halls were a light yellow instead. “But they can’t let you into the third grade unless you’ve passed kindergarten (reception,) first and second grades down here in the blue halls first.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Mariah Sixkiller! Hi!” Mariah tried not to cringe. Jesse Ponds had attended with her and Roger and it irked Mariah to no end that she looked almost exactly as she did when they’d graduated. “The stroller might be a little too big for the door, again, Haha! But you can park it out here and Dove’s siblings can play on the carpet while we talk.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Mariah wrinkled her nose, barely managed to conceal her sneer. Jesse would bring up how she’d spent almost 5 minutes trying to wrestle the stroller through the doorway when she was here last.
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“The kids are all in Music right now, but when we’re finished here you’re more than welcome to walk down to the Music Classroom with me to fetch them. She’d love to see that you’re here.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Settling the twins as Jesse, er… Ms.Ponds, seated herself next to Mrs.Duncan, Mariah felt like Gulliver as he visited Lilliput the tables and chairs were so small. Taking a moment, she allowed her eyes to roam the classroom.
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It was then she’d realized she’d be expected to sit on one of those miniature chairs. All the adult sized ones were taken. Tucking her skirt, she sat gingerly and smiled broadly.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “I’m sure you remember Mrs.Duncan,” Jesse... dammit. <i>Ms.Ponds</i> beamed. “Were you in her classes with us? I can’t remember…”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “No,” she answered as civilly as she could. “But I do remember seeing her in the halls.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Mrs. Duncan smiled, almost, at her before returning her attention to Je-<i>Ms.Ponds.</i> “It’s been a while since I’ve been over the gifted program, though.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Jesse beamed back. “Too long. Mrs. Duncan is now an administrator here.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mariah wanted to gag.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Jesse faltered, a little confused as to how to turn the conversation to the issues at hand. “So you received the notification of conference in the mail.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Keeping her smile sweetly in place, Mariah nodded. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Of course,” Jesse took a deep breath. “Uhm, so the first month or so of our year we spend trying to figure out what each of our students come to us already knowing, uhm… Where they’re at so to speak.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Again, Mariah nodded. Dove was exceptionally gifted. She knew that already. Spit it out.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “It takes us such a long time because we want to make sure the students are comfortable and performing as well as they can before we made decisions regarding their educational plan.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> And Dove had astounded them on her very first day. They were putting her in first grade. No. Third. She was moving straight through the blue halls to the yellow and Ms.Ponds had lied to her and felt bad about it. Dove would understand. It’d be okay.</span></span></div>
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Beside her, Ceeven pulled himself up on a chair, pushing it nearer his Mama. Ms.Ponds continued to drone on with the occasional glance at Mrs.Duncan while Mariah watched her boy. Of course, he too was exceptionally bright. Maybe he’d be one of those geniuses who graduated school while still a child.
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“We think a small group would be the best fitted for her. The students included in it would be carefully selected to make sure they’re personally compatible as well as all being about on par with each other so they’re all learning the same things at the same time.”
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Mariah tuned back in and nodded placidly.
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Mrs.Duncan cut her gaze toward Mariah briefly as she nodded. Seeing Mariah’s complacency she relaxed considerably and smiled warmly at her. It was the first time she’d ever been less than frigid and Mariah was suddenly on guard, her ears pricked and attention keen.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Jesse also sighed and relaxed her shoulders at Mariah’s acquiescence.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “With Dove we’ll be starting with recognizing her name. I know most parents would prefer we start with basics such as the alphabet or number recognition, but recognizing what your name looks like is really important right now and we can use that as a springboard to learning her ABC’s and the phonics of each letter.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Wait. Wait <i>what?</i>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Are you saying my Dove is <i>STUPID?!?</i>”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Jesse faltered at the look Mariah gave her. Finally, she gave up and allowed Mrs. Duncan to take over.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Of course not! All we’re saying is Dove came in a little behind some of her peers. We’d like to put her in a small group where they’re all working toward learning the same things. Many children are highly successful in such an environment and quickly catch up. But if she doesn’t, we can move her into a classroom where the curriculum is a little more remedial. If she’s willing to work hard, no matter which option is best for her, she’ll still most likely be ready for first grade right along with her peers.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “And if I say ‘no,’ Mrs.Duncan?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “<i>Bev</i>, please. We’re all adults here.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Fine, <i>Bev</i>, what if I say no?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Mrs.Sixkiller-”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “<i>Mariah</i>, please. We’re all adults here.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Jesse took a deep breath and swallowed while <i>Bev</i> blinked rapidly at Mariah’s sour tone.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “It’s a small group within our classroom. She’s not being pulled out, she won’t be singled out.” Jesse finally choked out.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “This is a very common practice in kindergarten, Mariah.” <i>Bev</i> added.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “NO.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> You’d have thought Mariah had dropped a bomb by the reactions of the educators sitting opposite her. But Mariah took joy in seeing them discomfited almost as badly as she’d been.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Neither of you seem to understand,” Mariah went on. “My Dove is a brilliant little girl. Exceptionally bright. I don’t think your testing is equipped for her.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Mariah, please listen to me,” <i>Bev</i> pleaded. “No one is saying Dove isn’t an intelligent child. We’re not even insinuating that. In fact, what we’re saying is that if you allow us to educate her as we see fit we can ensure that she’s able to demonstrate just how smart she is.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Mariah stared stonily at Jesse. She was through interacting with <i>Bev.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Dove? Doesn’t recognize her alphabet. Or numbers, Mariah. She can’t tell a 1 from a 5, an M from a C. If you don’t do this? She’ll most likely be repeating kindergarten,” Jesse said. “If you don’t do this? Her peers <i>will</i> notice she’s behind and they <i>will</i> avoid her.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Are you suggesting you’d let her be bullied?!” Mariah’s eyebrows had shot up so high they’d nearly disappeared into her hair.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “I’m not saying anything like that, Mariah!”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> <i>Bev</i> sighed, shaking her head.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “I’m saying that if you don’t allow us to help her, <i>you</i> a-”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Jesse!” <i>Bev</i> warned.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Mariah,” Jesse said. “Please. Dove? Is an exceptional artist. We’ve watched her draw and doodle. She shows great capacity for learning technique and detail. If that’s not bright I don’t know what is.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Clearly.” Mariah sneered.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Mrs. Sixkiller-”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “<i>Mariah</i>, please.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “We’re only wanting to help her,” Jesse’s tone had nearly become a pleading whine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “You’ve got to understand that we only want to help her, Mariah. We’re not the enemy here.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “And I am?” Mariah refused to look at <i>Bev</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “No! No nononono.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “So I’m a shitty parent?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Three things happened simultaneously. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> <i>Bev</i> winced so hard tears appeared on her cheeks, each quickly wiped away; Jesse’s hands flew up and she gasped out “<i>Mariah!</i>” and Vivia squealed at the top of her lungs as she sent pencils, papers, scissors and everything else within her reach flying.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Mrs.Sixkiller, I must ask that you please refrain from using such language in my classroom,” Jesse said, sternly. “I will also ask that you keep your children in check in here. Your daughter could have harmed your son when she pushed those scissors off.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “No matter,” Mariah’s voice dripped ice and fury. “We’re about to leave.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Please, before you go,” Ms.Ponds was pleading again. “Please sign the Individualized Education Plan in front of you so we can help Dove.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “We only want what’s best for Dove,” <i>Bev</i> quietly chimed in. “Just like you.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “No.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “At least take it with you and read over it. You can sign it later and send it back.”
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“No.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Please, Mariah.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Jesse stood as Mariah did, offering out the thick green folder in front of her.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “All of our testing and her scores are in here. How well she did is written in black and white. See for yourself. Even the questions are there. Take it, please.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Mariah held out a single hand and the folder was placed in it. As soon as she felt the full weight she turned her palm sideways, allowing the folder and its contents to cascade to the floor mixing with Vivia’s mess.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “No.”</span></span></div>
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When Dove arrived home from school that day she found a present from her mom. Though the easel was far too tall for her, a stool purloined from the bathroom was just about right and she delighted in the colorful tubes of paint and various brushes left in a case for her use.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Mariah’s heart swelled to bursting. Of course Dove was a wonderful artist. She was wonderful at everything she did.</span></span>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Those meetings suck. And you’d be surprised how many parents react exactly like Mariah. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To go a little more in depth about that meeting, Mariah’s reaction there was a knee jerk. She’s desperately wanting <i>something</i> to go right and so was extra hurt when she finally grasped what the meeting was about. She didn’t act wisely, and will probably figure that out on her own at some point. When? That remains to be seen. Further clarification? Dove is NOT a child with special needs of any kind. I have NO plans to ever delve into that in story. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’m not going to spell it out just yet, but anyone wanna take a stab at the roll here? :)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My apologies for the long break between the last and this one. Unfortunately, there will be at least an equally long break before the next is out. Life, the universe, and everything. You get it. ;)</span></span></div>
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ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-48820574587268153292015-05-19T12:53:00.000-05:002015-05-19T12:53:28.239-05:00Liebster!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know this is primarily a wordpress thingy running around, but I'm putting this over here also since this is the blog I update most often. <br />
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<a href="https://cuckoolegacy.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/liebster-award-300-px.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="https://cuckoolegacy.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/liebster-award-300-px.png" border="0" data-mce-src="https://cuckoolegacy.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/liebster-award-300-px.png" src="https://cuckoolegacy.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/liebster-award-300-px.png" /></a></div>
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Y'all are so sweet! <br />
I was nominated by two super talented individuals: <a data-mce-href="https://cuckoolegacy.wordpress.com/" href="https://cuckoolegacy.wordpress.com/">Toxi</a> and <a data-mce-href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/" href="https://summerdreamsims3.wordpress.com/">Melissa</a> (Cali, Caterpillar.)<br />
*HUGS FOR YOU BOTH!!! Thank you!!!!<br />
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The rules for receiving this award are:</div>
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1. Post the award on your blog.<br /> 2. Thank the blogger who presented the award and link back to their blog.<br /> 3. Nominate 5-11 bloggers whom you feel deserve this award and have fewer than or equal to 3,000 followers.<br /> 4. Answer 11 questions posted by the nominator, and ask your nominees 11 questions.</div>
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Once more, just because it can't be said enough: THANK YOU!!! =D<br />
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My nominations are:<br />
1.)<a data-mce-href="https://matthewsrandomlegacyredone.wordpress.com/" href="https://matthewsrandomlegacyredone.wordpress.com/"> FutureCarrie: Her Matthews RLC</a> is really developed. No character left behind and many of them are super super sweet, even when acting a little impulsively.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
2.) <a data-mce-href="https://cecesimsstories.wordpress.com/love-legacy-chapters/" href="https://cecesimsstories.wordpress.com/love-legacy-chapters/">Cece: The Love Legacy.</a>
UUUnnnnnffff! Blaine=HAWT. A war torn civilization with characters who
are super adorable, edgy and have realistic flaws. One day we'll learn
how they ended up as they are now. Until then, the suspense is killer.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
3.) <a data-mce-href="http://lilmisslau.tumblr.com/tagged/hopeless-abandon/chrono" href="http://lilmisslau.tumblr.com/tagged/hopeless-abandon/chrono">LilMissLau: Hopeless Abandon</a>
Oh. Em. GEE. That is one story idea that I've kicked around myself,
never able to reconcile all the loose ends in my head. But she did it.
And she's doing it. And it's amazing. I don't want to give the plot away
as I would rob you of discovering her stunning, poetic visuals and a
couple of characters whose adventures consistently leave me breathless.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
4.) <a data-mce-href="http://kahekilis.blogspot.com/" href="http://kahekilis.blogspot.com/">Nirar: The Kahekilis</a>
Gorgeous sims who get up to everything under the sun and make me want
to explore my own game further. She's also on the brink of the ultimate
Generation 10 and I'mma cry so hard if that proves to be the end. Nirar
also has some fantastically funny side blogs. My fave happens to be <a data-mce-href="http://jacksbabies.blogspot.com/" href="http://jacksbabies.blogspot.com/">Jack's Beach Babies</a>. But there might be some prejudice there. ;)<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
5.) Heaven: <a data-mce-href="http://heavensims.tumblr.com/AvendaleLegacy" href="http://heavensims.tumblr.com/AvendaleLegacy">The Avendales</a>
/ Are You the One? The Avendales have had a bumpy road to travel, but
things seem to be looking up for the family. Wonderfully unique sims and
stunning photos. My graphics card wants to be like hers when it grows
up one day. <br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<a data-mce-href="http://heavensims.tumblr.com/AreYouTheOne" href="http://heavensims.tumblr.com/AreYouTheOne">Are You the One?</a> is a sims version of the MTV guilty pleasure reality show. Love.It! (Harper and Kelley! 5evah! <3)<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
6.) <a data-mce-href="http://buckleysims.tumblr.com/Pixel-Rust" href="http://buckleysims.tumblr.com/Pixel-Rust">Buckley: Pixel Rust </a>Sims,
soap opera style. I have no idea how she's keeping it all straight, but
it's replaced The Young and the Restless as my fav daytime drama. What a
twisted web she's woven with some of the most beautiful sims I've ever seen! <br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
7.) <a href="http://kissofavampire-100babychallenge.blogspot.com/">Jazen: Kiss of a Vampire</a> I follow this blog in quiet, reading and marveling over the author's ability to make me root for and love the bad guy. Like LOVE.HIM. Swoon over him! Adore him! It's nearing the end and I'm going to be a basket case as I scramble to find something else to read where the bad guy sometimes has to be the knight in shining armor.<br />
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8.) <a href="http://moonlightandsims.blogspot.com/">Marsar: A Pair of Brown Eyes</a> Will they? Won't they? A tug of war over a woman with enough courage to try and forge her own path set in the Victorian era that makes me sigh over the romance and manly men she writes so well.<br />
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9.) <a href="http://marquellegacy.blogspot.com/">ConvictedDreamer: The Marquel RLC</a> Doll lovely sims finding their way through life and death. Sometimes sweet, sometimes sinister I love this story and her vibrant characters.<br />
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<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
The Questions:<br />
From Toxi:<br />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2154">
<strong id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2156">1. Have you had a hobby/interest that you have completely given up nowadays? What and why?</strong></div>
Knitting. lol. Because I'm a s l o w knitter and I'd rather sim. <br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2162">
<strong id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2181">2. If you and your family or your friends were to go on an outing nearby, where would you go and what would you do?</strong> <strong id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2161">If you went alone, would you go to the same places or do something completely different?</strong></div>
Oh wow. Uh... we'd most likely go to the local minor league baseball park to watch a game.<br />
If I were alone I'd for sure do something different. lol. I would most likely either go to <a data-mce-href="http://crystalbridges.org/" href="http://crystalbridges.org/">Crystal Bridges</a>
because I don't get to go nearly often enough. Or I'd go poking around
in all the flea markets and antique shops I don't get to go to nearly
often enough. lol<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2164">
<strong id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2163">3. Best memory of something you and a sibling/cousin or a friend did when you were kids?</strong></div>
Oh wow. This is going to sound so awful, but it's really not. My mom was/is an <em>extremely</em>
strict parent so when I'd go see my cousin my aunt would often let me
do things I wasn't allowed to do normally, like wear shorts that showed
my knees or listen to pop music. ZOMG Madonna was so awesome. The year I
turned 10 my spring break was during my cousin's not spring break so I
was going to go to school with her (yes. I went to school voluntarily
for spring break.) and my aunt bought me a pair of shorts and a tank top
(holy crow, I got to show knees and shoulders all.in.one.outfit?
Scandalous!) that she let me wear and a couple of boys my cousin crushed
hard on approached me the day I was there and asked me out. I cried. It
was the first time I felt that I might not be so ugly as I often felt.
Later, I found out my cousin had heard them talking about how cute I was
and she had encouraged them to approach me. That's when I found out
that as a person, I might have a little bit of worth. It was also when I
found out just how far a little generosity can go.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2166">
<strong id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2165">4. Most useful mod and most useful setting you use while playing TS3? If you don't use mods, why? WHY!???</strong></div>
One? ONE most useful??? ONE SETTING?!?!? But, butbutbut, there are so many that are essential! lol<br />
Prolly
the entire NRaas suite of mods. Most helpful to me are the genetic
blending settings in SP:Pregnancy or Population of something like that.
No.More.Clones! And Retuner is pretty awesome IMO. Don't want your sims
staring at the TV all day, but they're rolling constant wishes to own
one? Fine! Buy it and make is so they never watch it. HA!<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<strong>5. What's your favourite perfume, and if you don't use perfume, favourite lotion/soap or favourite natural smell. </strong><br />
Victoria's Secret Bombshell. Cause I'm totally a bombshell. L O L<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2153">
<strong>6. What's your least favourite household task to do, and what don't you mind as much?</strong></div>
Cooking/baking.
I like good food and I cannot lie. lol. I also can't stand a dirty
kitchen and if I made the mess I know what to clean up and where. =D<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2167">
<strong>7. If you were to learn something you know very little about, what would you most like to learn? </strong></div>
History
of any kind. We own probably 8 history text books and a bajillion
biographies but I can't get enough. Learning about others' mistakes and
glories is a wonderful way to make our world a better place. And there's
so much of it, how can anyone ever do more than just scratch the
surface?<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2169">
<strong id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2168">8. What kind of (non-existing) expansion would you want the most from EA? </strong></div>
A
complete and working OPEN FOR BUSINESS for Sims3. The bits and pieces
of PC from the store just isn't enough to really make it work.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2171">
<strong id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2170">9. If you make your own CC, what are you most proud of? Who is your favourite creator of clothes and objects? </strong></div>
I
love you, Toxi. :D I am currently most proud of my drinking fountain
collection. I spent a month handpainting textures for those and they are
friggin' kickin'. I mean, wow. They look so good in game! <br />
My fav clothes creator... Geez. There are so many. Haha. Buckley and <a data-mce-href="http://simplexsims.blogspot.com/" href="http://simplexsims.blogspot.com/">SimplexSims</a>
are probably my favorite converters(Buckley for maternity conversions,
and SimplexSims for offering my Teens and Elders a much nicer wardrobe
than they've ever had before,) though I LOVE Buckley's original
creations also, so she's on the creators list... The other would
probably be AllAboutStyle. <br />
How could anyone not say their fav object creator is Sandy? (Around the Sims) Wow!<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2173">
<strong id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2172">10.
Tell me about some weird/special food from your region or where you
grew up, or from your own family. If nothing comes to mind, what's your
favourite dish? Main course and dessert. </strong></div>
My family has a
top secret fruitcake recipe. lol. So many people don't like fruitcakes,
but this one has converted quite a few doubters. I can't stand
fruitcake that isn't this fruitcake. Then again, it's soaked in a
dessert wine for 2 months before serving. How could it not be
amazeballs? xD<br />
A special food from my
region would have to be the locally ground blue grits and all the
special rices that are grown around here. In fact, a lot of people
around here would rather have a bowl of buttered rice with a little
sugar sprinkled on than oatmeal for breakfast. (Arkansas, yo. We're
nuts.)<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2177">
<strong id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432050309927_2176">11.
Which is the best book on the top shelf of your nearest bookcase? (if
you're at home - if you're away, just name a good book plz). </strong></div>
I'm
going to randomly 5 select books from that shelf on the bookcase next
to me because I love them all and that's why they're on that particular
bookshelf to begin with. The Night Circus(Erin Morgenstern,)
1491(Charles C. Mann,) Cinder(Marissa Meyer,) One Summer(Bill Bryson,)
and Three Act Tragedy(Agatha Christie.)<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
Now for Melissa's questions!:<br />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432046847170_11769">
<b>1. What got you into writing stories with the sims?</b></div>
Hubs.
lol. Hubs couldn't figure out why I spent so much time with them if the
story was all in my head. He asked if I would write it out for him so I
did. He never read it but I kept writing.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432046847170_11768">
<b>2.
If you could pick five personality traits for your Simself, what would
they be? I know when I do it, there’s always more than five I want to
use, but just think of the first five that come to mind.</b></div>
Absent-Minded, Genius, Bookworm, Shy, Excitable<br />
And those aren't the ones I'd PICK if I were given complete rein, but those are the most true to myself. :)<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432046847170_11770">
<b>3. Is there a time of day that’s the best time for you to write?</b></div>
Weekday mornings, when Hubs is at work and kids are at school.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432046847170_11771">
<b>4. If you could jump into a time machine like the Sims can, where would you choose to go and why?</b></div>
I would go back to college me and force myself to stay broken up with hubs #1. I would also make myself finish my degree.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>5. Have you got a favourite sim?</b><br />
Just one?!? lol. I'm not usually a fan of sim!toddlers, but I adore my Vivia currently. She's a lot of fun.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>6. Are any of your characters or situations based on real life?</b><br />
Good gracious, of course! Perhaps not all of them, but still.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>7. What made you start playing Sims?</b><br />
hubs
#1's best friend brought the 1 year old TheSims over one night and
insisted I try it on my computer, which was in the back room, so the
boys could play their RPG's in the living room without me. It backfired.
They all ended up swarming after hearing me crack up time after time.
xD I also was completely unable to stop playing.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>8. Other than Sims and writing, what are some of your other hobbies?</b><br />
I'm working on a cookbook that collects family and my own recipes. It'll never be finished though since I'm s l o w.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>9. What is your favourite aspect about writing?</b><br />
The
outlet it gives my imagination. I'm not a housewife or a mom or a
special needs advocate when I write. I'm a painter, a psychic, a cop, a
judge and jury all in one in a world that follows the rules I made up
for it.<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>10. What is your least favorite aspect?</b><br />
With
writing? The polishing. If I polish too much I hate it. If I don't
polish enough I hate it. If I hate it how can I show it to anyone else?<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1432046847170_11773">
<b>11. What inspires you the most? Music? A great book? A walk outside? Something else?</b></div>
A
little bit of everything. Talking with others, reading the news,
reading a book, discovering a new artist or song, hearing how my kids
day went. I never lack inspiration, motivation is my kryptonite. lol<br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
And now! My questions for my nominees:<br />
<b>1.) What got you hooked on The Sims franchise? </b><br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>2.)
What is your essential CC site? It can offer mods or clothing, or that
one piece of CC you can't play without and can be made by you or someone
else.</b><br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>3.) How do you find your CC?</b><br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>4.) Where were you when the idea for your story first come to you? What was going on?</b><br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>5.) Where do you stand in the Oxford Comma debate?</b><br />
<br data-mce-bogus="1" />
<b>6.) If you could try one of the foods in the sims game, which food would you choose?</b><br />
<b><br data-mce-bogus="1" /></b>
<b>7.) Do you have an all-time favorite sim?</b><br />
<b><br data-mce-bogus="1" /></b>
<b>8.)
What is one thing you can do in TheSims (1,2,3,4) that you have yet to
try? If you've tried it all (Geez, I'm jealous) what is your favorite
thing to do with your sims?</b><br />
<b><br data-mce-bogus="1" /></b>
<b>9.) How do you deal with writer's block?</b><br />
<b><br data-mce-bogus="1" /></b>
<b>10.) Have you ever based a character off of someone you know? If so, does this person know you based a character on them? Why or Why not? And if not, why?</b><br />
<b><br data-mce-bogus="1" /></b>
<b>11.) What do you draw inspiration from?</b>ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-16189854938423190372015-05-13T16:11:00.000-05:002015-05-13T16:11:08.265-05:00Downloads- Objects and Poses- Sunny's Drinking Fountain Decor and PosesDid you ever notice there were no drinking fountains for Sims 3? No? Prepare to get thirsty, because here are six to fill the void you never knew you had! And not just decor, poses for these fountains so they're not merely decor, they're poseable background decor! *confetti*<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2vFk5z4E0jdeANr3CUeF5l71sL5k3MsT9yl55xabA7MzYp9o7EDelRh2FEcseP4l2ruY2jCbQjXkiWofp718s8NdI3j6PM1fE2AjBJtApzDQgZCCZiTTsXCqvZ_F26ARiF54mudxQ6870/s1600/Title.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2vFk5z4E0jdeANr3CUeF5l71sL5k3MsT9yl55xabA7MzYp9o7EDelRh2FEcseP4l2ruY2jCbQjXkiWofp718s8NdI3j6PM1fE2AjBJtApzDQgZCCZiTTsXCqvZ_F26ARiF54mudxQ6870/s640/Title.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">More Than You Ever Wanted To Know About Decorative Drinking Fountains</span></u><br />
<br />
Under the Function Tab, these are found in the <i>Decor</i> category, and are under both the <i>Sculpture</i> and <i>Misc. Decor </i>subs.<br />
Under the Room Tab, they are found in <i>Kitchen</i> and <i>Outdoors</i>, and are under the <i>Eating Out</i>, <i>Accents</i>, <i>Lawn Ornaments</i>, and <i>Misc. Decor</i> subs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX92_3Kx3GajgQYZWrCQiWg8nEmvJwIHOH-r5DuLNCDxl5p8L0tOGQasTRFH5IiFwt5iJJlAw2kWqJjZrJWToyeftxW-o5h8a72dzL_87lCaLs7KLjV010RXgsljOZYUs5MmLDJEJJG9E7/s1600/Fountain+%231.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX92_3Kx3GajgQYZWrCQiWg8nEmvJwIHOH-r5DuLNCDxl5p8L0tOGQasTRFH5IiFwt5iJJlAw2kWqJjZrJWToyeftxW-o5h8a72dzL_87lCaLs7KLjV010RXgsljOZYUs5MmLDJEJJG9E7/s400/Fountain+%231.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<table class="tg">
<tbody>
<tr>
<th class="tg-031e">FileName</th>
<th class="tg-031e">Cost</th>
<th class="tg-031e">HLOD Poly Count</th>
<th class="tg-031e">MLOD Poly Count</th>
<th class="tg-031e"># of Channels</th>
<th class="tg-031e"># of Presets</th>
<th class="tg-031e"># of Slots</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tg-698h">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #1</td>
<td class="tg-698h">§150</td>
<td class="tg-698h">454</td>
<td class="tg-698h">199</td>
<td class="tg-698h">3</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tg-698h">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #1a</td>
<td class="tg-698h">§300</td>
<td class="tg-698h">908</td>
<td class="tg-698h">398</td>
<td class="tg-698h">3</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
<td class="tg-698h">4</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tg-698h">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #2</td>
<td class="tg-698h">§200</td>
<td class="tg-698h">544</td>
<td class="tg-698h">200</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tg-698h">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #3</td>
<td class="tg-698h">§200</td>
<td class="tg-698h">756</td>
<td class="tg-698h">300</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
<td class="tg-698h">6</td>
<td class="tg-698h">0</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tg-698h">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #4</td>
<td class="tg-698h">§250</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2140</td>
<td class="tg-698h">502</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
<td class="tg-698h">6</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tg-698h">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #5</td>
<td class="tg-698h">§250</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2140</td>
<td class="tg-698h">502</td>
<td class="tg-698h">2</td>
<td class="tg-698h">6</td>
<td class="tg-698h">1</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<b>I have to draw attention to the Poly Counts on Drinking Fountains #4 & #5 as I consider those to be rather high. Be careful.</b><br />
<br />
Another note, thought not so important to be bolded, the wall mounted drinking fountains (#1 and #1a) do not snap to the wall. Don't blame me if you leave your drinking fountains floating out in space and they fall on some poor sims toe.<br />
<br />
Each of the Drinking Fountains comes with more than one usable preset. I would have made more but my brain parachuted out of my right ear promptly drowning in my coffee before I could get that done. Drinking Fountains #3, #4 & #5 are also intended more for outdoor use, but I completely forgot to put them outside for a pic. My apologies. <br />
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The Simlish on the Wall Mounted Drinking Fountains is an overlay. It says 'Push.' And you thought it said something naughty, didn't you?<br />
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<u><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Info About the Poses For the Exhaustive Drinking Fountains</span></u><br />
<br />
There are 10 poses for the fountains: 3 for adult sims, 3 for teens sims and 4 for child sims. The teen poses are identical to the adult poses. Pose numbers correspond with the name of the drinking fountain it was made for.<br />
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<br />
Using adult/teen pose 1 on Fountain #1a will need a smidge bit of alt shifting, as will child pose 3 using Fountain #5. Pose 3 for all age groups will work for Fountains #4 &#5 as well.<br />
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As per usual, posecoded images are included in each of the pose archives. <br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><u>Download-Fountains</u></span><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/6m5cp9j9iwr15dm/Sunny&#39;s_Drinking_Fountain_no.1.7z">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #1</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/96wwjb92auwg5b9/Sunny&#39;s_Drinking_Fountain_no.1a.7z">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #1a</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/rtngh5kcr2n2937/Sunny&#39;s_Drinking_Fountain_no.2.7z">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #2</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/h8rqql94h05sk46/Sunny&#39;s_Drinking_Fountain_no.3.7z">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #3</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/8p0ey18r4dutwcq/Sunny&#39;s_Drinking_Fountain_no.4.7z">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #4</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/32o725mg0s1ybhj/Sunny&#39;s_Drinking_Fountain_no.5.7z">Sunny's Drinking Fountain #5</a><br />
Or collect them all! <a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/xeeuug1gm2b64as/Sunny&#39;s_Drinking_Fountain_Collection-Merged_File.7z">Sunny's Drinking Fountain Collection-Merged File</a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><u>Download- Poses</u></span><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/abp2264bx9rwdo7/Sunny&#39;s_Drinking_Fountain_Poses-Poselisted.7z">Sunny's Drinking Fountain Poses- POSELISTED</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/if15h01259hgt6s/Sunny&#39;s_Drinking_Fountain_Poses-NOTposelisted.7z">Sunny's Drinking Fountain Poses- NOT poselisted</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The above was made using Wings3d, MilkShape, Blender,
GIMP, Paint.Net, PhotoshopCS6, TSRW, S3PE, fairy dust, an oxford comma,
an insane amount of coffee and a few pots of chamomile. There might have
been a significant amount of alcohol fueling it as well.<br />
<br />
Thanks
to <span style="font-family: inherit;">t</span>he Jones' for S3PE. CMar for the Meshing Toolkit. Wes Howe for the
nifty Milkshape tools I have in there and whose name escapes me that I
think I used... thanks brain *prods soggy, dead brain hopefully. To
Cmomoney for the Blender <span style="font-family: inherit;">a</span>ddons. To Inkandchaos for the awesome
Immajer-Simlish font. To OrangeMittens for the tutorials on how to make
objects from scratch and how to make poses. To those who gave much needed encouragement as these were being polished up. To <span style="font-family: inherit;">all</span> who read <span style="font-family: inherit;">my scribblings. </span>And to all of you who put up
with my ramblings and made it this far.</span><br />
<br />
What are you still reading for? Go download the goods! ;)ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-47641127728506080032015-04-16T12:21:00.000-05:002016-03-24T21:04:23.585-05:00Chapter 3.12- It's Not You<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>
Don't be angry - don't be sad<br />
Don't sit crying over good times you've had<br />
There's a girl right next to you<br />
And she's just waiting for something to do<br />
<br />
Well there's a rose in a fisted glove<br />
And the eagle flies with the dove<br />
And if you can't be with the one you love honey<br />
<span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Love the one you're with</b></span></i></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">-Clifton George Bailey, Stephen Stills</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It had been the longest twenty minutes of her life.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
At first she’d tried to walk off, but he’d arrested her wrist before she’d made it one step. Despite showing her he didn’t want her to leave, he’d not looked at her, not spoken a word. The only movement she’d caught was his sliding down the couch, lying flat.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally, she’d slipped in beside him, holding him, waiting for… something. Anything.
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Her turning down his proposal shouldn’t have been such a surprise. They’d never talked about anything more than what they currently had. She’d never dropped a hint about wanting to get married, much less get engaged. He knew her desire to go it alone. And didn’t he say how this had been his dream? To fight crime undercover? Making the world a better place?
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It had to be that Dove’s birthday made him feel the distance more keenly than usual. He was desperate and had said it in haste. He didn’t mean it.
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“It’ll be okay. I still love you.”
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There was the first movement he’d made in half an hour. With his eyes now shut tight, he turned his head away from her by about a millimeter. Taking it as a sign her words had found a mark, she continued.
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“In no time at all we’ll both have forgotten about this. No one else knows, so there’s no embarrassing explanation to give anyone.”
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Roger’s chest heaved, a choking hiccup accompanying it.
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“Look,” maybe she needed to change tack? She hadn’t meant to upset him further. “Look, we both know I’m not the marrying type. I don’t want to-”
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Shaking slightly now, Roger squeezed his eyes even tighter for a brief moment. Afraid he might be crying, Mariah began to be concerned. ‘I don’t want to’ might have been the wrong place to stop there.
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“I don’t want to tie anyone down. Much less *be* tied down. It’s always been me and someone else. I need some time to-”
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The breath escaping Roger’s lips began to be ragged. How come he wasn’t coming out of it?
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“Time, I need time to-to-to prove to… to prove to me, myself, that I’m an adult-”
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This time, there was no denying it was a sob. His entire body shook from it.
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“Hey now!” Mariah cooed. “Hey, look at me. C’mon.”
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Instead, Roger tightened his grip on himself, pursing his lips, making his neck steel, refusing to budge.
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“Alright, fine. You don’t have to look at me, but I know you can hear me. So hear this. I love you. I really do. I love you so much more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone. It’s not you. It’s me! I’m nuts! Haha-”
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Roger stopped holding it back, sobs deep and hoarse escaping freely. Even his head weighed more on her arm than it had moments before.
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Despite her nerves, it was only now that Mariah was truly frightened. She’d never seen a man cry before; never been a witness to the breakdown of what she’d always considered towering strength. Every moan, every breath he struggled to gain, each trembling tear cut her terribly. Beneath her hand, his heart beat so fast she worried it might fly away.
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When his dad had died, his tears had been silent. This level of grief alarmed and confused her. Worst of all, for the first time ever she felt as though she were seeing him truly bare.
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“Roger?”
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It seemed his tears had lasted forever but, at last, they were slowing.
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“Roger, sweetheart?”
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As his cries had slackened she could almost make out syllables hidden in his groaning. But she’d yet been able to put a meaning, or flesh out words from them.
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“Roger, I do love you. No matter what I said earlier, I love you. Just… don’t be angry. Don’t be sad. We’ll survive. Together. I just need more <i>time</i>.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Heaving a deep, final, sigh, Roger pushed himself up, wiping his face with an arm as he went.
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“You just need more time. Don’t be angry,” he repeated. “Don’t be sad.”
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Reaching over to rub his back, Mariah waited. Just what she waited for, she didn’t know. This situation was so new to her, yet it had to be just as new to Roger.
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“The eagle flies with the dove,” Roger whispered. Still, Mariah waited, more confused than ever.
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“The <i>Eagle</i> flies with the <i>Dove</i>,” Roger repeated, stronger this time. Eyes wider than ever, Mariah’s hand stopped on his shoulder. Had she broken him the way her mother had been broken?
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Brushing her hand from his shoulder he stood.
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Had her single word rejection really done this? Or was this too much emotional shock after his father’s passing? Maybe he’d needed to grieve more over his dad first, before proposing. But how was she supposed to know he would do that?</span></span></div>
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Slowly raising herself to sitting, Mariah jumped as Roger abruptly turned and began quickly pacing, muttering to himself as he went.
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“It’s not just that <i>I</i> don’t pay it. After everything, it would have made more sense to punish <i>him</i> in that way. There’s also been no secrecy within the household about who isn’t.”
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Dimly, she could see what he might be referencing and her fear intensified.
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“And time? Isn’t 5 years and three kids long enough?”</span></span></div>
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On one of his turns between the loveseat and the wall he caught Mariah watching him intently and paused.
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“You’ve given yourself away, my dear,” a sad smile adorning his words as he resumed pacing. “Don’t be angry? Don’t be sad? And at the end of the chorus? When you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”
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Surely he wasn’t suggesting-
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“I should have seen it so long ago. PlumbBob! How blind I’ve been! The lengths you’ve gone to to protect the one you love should have been the biggest red flag ever. Watcher. Stupid, desperate me.”
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“You’ve had every right, and all the time in the world, to make him pay as a woman scorned would want to do. But instead you covered for him. You’ve buried your feelings so deep, I wonder if you realize they’re still there.
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“As for myself? You were lonely and <i>I</i> was there. It wasn’t exactly the biggest jump in the world to go from friends to more for you was it? It’s precisely what <i>I</i> wanted; why would I complain? Why would I stand in <i>your</i> way? I thought I knew you better than anyone else in the world. <i>You</i> kept your secret. And I? Fell for it. But no more. No more, Mariah.”
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“You love me only because I’m the one you’re with. Your love, your whole shining pure bright as heaven love, isn’t for me. It never has been mine, and neither, truly, have you. There isn’t enough time left in this world to make that happen.”
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Shrinking into the cushions, Mariah wished she could cry as he had done earlier. But the empty pit inside her offered no relief.
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“I love you,” she said, small and weak. But he didn’t respond and she knew those words were no longer enough.
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The silence between them stretched fragile and unbroken until she couldn’t stand it and glanced up at him. It was no relief to find him looking calm and serene as a summer’s day. Everything he’d said until now had been quiet and gently said. If only he’d been mad, stormed, ranted and raged at her as she deserved, perhaps she’d have been able to find the words to defend herself in some way. As it was, what more could she say?
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“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking too.” Roger answered her unspoken words. “After all, we’ve grown up together. And you-” Roger chuckled, not unkindly, “You have the ability to ‘read minds.’ Of course we’re thinking the same thing. And despite it all, I don’t know who you are.”
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Still, he steadily gazed at her. The corners of his mouth slowly sinking the longer he watched her. His eyes kept a soft, pitying look giving her hope that maybe, if she could ever find the right words, he might be persuaded to be reasonable.
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How wrong she was. In a moment, he returned her devastating whisper with a whisper of his own.
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“Goodbye, Mariah.”
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And with those words he turned
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And he walked
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Away.
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*<i>slam</i>*
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Damn Andre.
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So which of his surmises are true and which are not and what might be half way true I’ll let you guess.
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To spell it out for those who might not remember it all, or who might have missed his meaning: Roger is accusing Mariah of still carrying a torch for Andre. He was using the song lyrics to piece together his puzzle there. As in: Mariah can’t be with the one she loves (Andre) so she’s loving the one she’s with (Roger.) And Roger isn’t going to be satisfied with second place.
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He was always too good for her.
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After that, replies to comments will take longer than usual as we</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">’</span></span>re taking our first ever real </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">‘</span></span>vacation</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">’</span></span> as a family this weekend. Wahoo!
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<br />ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-5093963595417712942015-03-17T06:18:00.000-05:002015-03-17T06:18:06.424-05:00Downloads- Poses- Spin The Bottle<br />
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Aaand I'm back with more! Three gifts down, one more to go. This one has been in the works for several months now. Not that the stepping stones didn't take months of tweaking, but this one has had a <i>lot</i> of love put into it and I really hope you all like it. Introducing: Spin the Bottle, a posepack for teens and adults.<br />
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This posepack is kind of huge. 26 poses huge.<br />
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There are a ton of options on this one. For teens only, for adults only, for both. Poselisted, not poselisted on it all.<br />
The bottle I used for spinning can be found<a href="http://www.modthesims.info/download.php?t=490833"> HERE</a>. Either the accessory or the laying down bottle object will work just fine. You'll need to use Alt+Shifting to position the object, but it's very easy.<br />
<br />
Standard TOU applies: Do NOT reupload my work ANYWHERE for any reason, EVER. PERIOD.<br />
Do NOT claim as your own.<br />
Do NOT include with your own upload. Please link back to this page. <br />
<br />
Do enjoy these!<br />
<br />
Each archive contains the posecoded images above.<br />
<span style="font-size: 26.0pt;"><u>DOWNLOAD!!!</u></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 20.0pt;"><u>Poselisted:</u></span><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/nuyaxqcx4gyzz44/Sunny&#39;sSpinTheBottlePosepack-ForAdults-Poselisted.7z">For Adults</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/yv9dop8yepbwb8r/Sunny&#39;sSpinTheBottlePosepack-ForTeens-Poselisted.7z">For Teens</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/r2ugpdid0w71bl8/Sunny&#39;sSpinTheBottlePosepack-Combined-Poselisted.7z">Combined</a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 20.0pt;"><u>NOT Poselisted:</u></span><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/pl2ur2y27gdbug0/Sunny&#39;sSpinTheBottlePosepack-ForAdults-NotPoselisted.7z">For Adults</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/mdochi9ggr0ypx3/Sunny&#39;sSpinTheBottlePosepack-ForTeens-NotPoselisted.7z">For Teens</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/5cabffxg1odr4xr/Sunny&#39;sSpinTheBottlePosepack-Combined-NotPoselisted.7z">Combined</a><br />
<br />
<br />
Super Huge THANK YOU and HUGS to Nirar for suggesting these. What a great idea!<br />
<br />
Just as huge a thanks goes out to: <a href="http://mattellrandomlegacy.blogspot.com/">Gemma</a> for <a href="http://mattellrandomlegacy.blogspot.com/p/steal-sim.html">Rose </a><a href="http://mattellrandomlegacy.blogspot.com/p/steal-sim.html">Mattell</a> and Myles Belcher;<br />
<a href="http://clemetislegacy.blogspot.com/">Ali</a> for <a href="http://rluploads.blogspot.com/2011/11/clemetis-legacy-ajh.html">Dorylis Yat Sen;</a><br />
<a href="http://buckleysims.tumblr.com/">Buckley</a> for <a href="http://themckinleychronicles.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html?zx=b6c4ebafa1c56a76">Luca McKinley</a> (I messed up his hair, SORRY!);<br />
and <a href="http://kahekilis.blogspot.com/">Nirar</a> (again!) for <a href="http://simsasylum.com/tfm/index.php?/topic/5713-claudio-monty/">(Claudio) Monty</a> and <a href="http://simsasylum.com/tfm/index.php?/topic/8539-jaxine-mcallister/">Jaxine McAllister</a> (I <i>Really</i> messed up Monty's hair! Ack!) all of whom appear in the above photoshoot. Thank you guys so much for your lovely sims!<br />
<br />
And finally, thank YOU! I truly hope you enjoy all of these. If you do use them, I would Love to see them in your game. Leave a link and I'll respond with some Love.<br />
<br />
Sadly folks, that's the end of my bag of tricks for this year.<br />
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However, this date next year is only 366 (leap year folks) days away. ;) ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-1227377930514655042015-03-17T06:17:00.000-05:002015-03-17T06:17:44.467-05:00Downloads- Objects- Party StreamersIt's.My.BIRTHDAY!!! Which means: <br />
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Wait though, there aren't NEARLY enough party decorations for Sims3 out there!<br />
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So I reached into my magic bag and pulled some new party decor out. xD<br />
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Look! Faux Twisted Crepe Paper Streamers!<br />
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With 2 recolorable channels!<br />
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Optional ribbons for the ends! Just one hanging down?<br />
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Or is two more your style? <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_JNuFJtp3doDcHClllTqPgmG5FDHgJaiBj5lX5XAahGDSst3FWSsbc3bbViSVurzvbJiNtpp-kGQzgsEBDBKVoOHRynENeANpwSvBVuq0Kx7fAX_GGghYojqPjMOn_YvXRto5Hq9oYA48/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_JNuFJtp3doDcHClllTqPgmG5FDHgJaiBj5lX5XAahGDSst3FWSsbc3bbViSVurzvbJiNtpp-kGQzgsEBDBKVoOHRynENeANpwSvBVuq0Kx7fAX_GGghYojqPjMOn_YvXRto5Hq9oYA48/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
They're shiftable! They're stackable! They come with 4 presets! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCv-VUZ2NPEGHhfIA9KPF1Bk4DxHDx21p6XVNfp4p90QajgAYuNemlDZpnoFAHDl9JXWAqDu9rHhUkUkpubg9Uotrs2TKNBubovkd9bDJ7Qin-zkalFe2N7Wv0ecMK50tGMiA5xGQGaME2/s1600/Screenshot-5.jpg">They were featured in my story!</a><br />
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I will admit that when placing next to a perpendicular wall the wall tends to swallow the ends, this is also true of the end ribbons. They no longer clip into the ceiling though when they're shifted that high. lol. I was just too lazy to take a new preview pic to prove their shiftiness. <br />
And while you <i>can</i> put patterns on the swags, it looks pretty crappy on them. Patterns on the end ribbons look awesome. (Smoothing groups on these babies gave me grief m'kay?)<br />
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You will need to use MOO to put the ribbons on the swags. :D<br />
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So throw a party or decorate your prom with Sunny's Faux Crepe Paper Streamers today!<br />
Found in... brace yourself... Misc. Decor , or Party, for §5.<br />
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Standard TOU applies: Do NOT reupload ANYWHERE else for any reason, EVER. PERIOD.<br />
Do NOT claim as your own.<br />
Do NOT include with your own upload. Please link back to this page.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 26.0pt;"><a href="https://www.mediafire.com/folder/bss1o86p31z6h/Party_Streamers"><u>DOWNLOAD</u>- Sunny's Party Streamers</a></span><br />
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Huge thanks to Misty for patiently, wearily, saying 'Of course you do' when I told her I had yet another project started. (She could have hit me upside the head and chose not to.) And then for putting up with all the pictures once I'd finished. *hugs and kisses for you! You're amazing!<br />
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And THANK YOU! For stopping by to help make my birthday more awesome! You're awesome!<br />
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Now then! Go to the next post to get my next gift to you! I saved the best for last!ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-75551035869277113382015-03-17T06:16:00.001-05:002015-03-17T06:16:50.806-05:00Downloads- Poses- CouchKissBirthday madness continues with Poses!!! 'Cause that's what I do. Poses. ;)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvi8g0E2FHF4lqHxRX2KoQEQshkKh6IfCseqZTabNxjTiZ6_tPOAtGYYwDaHOqppQpsOz0B-5fzs9tZJiKCl9Vp3hkNHWak4yfNKibc1flnd8EUvqW6Az6JTPgp7jxd0a0-poGAUtEy4UF/s1600/Screenshot-32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvi8g0E2FHF4lqHxRX2KoQEQshkKh6IfCseqZTabNxjTiZ6_tPOAtGYYwDaHOqppQpsOz0B-5fzs9tZJiKCl9Vp3hkNHWak4yfNKibc1flnd8EUvqW6Az6JTPgp7jxd0a0-poGAUtEy4UF/s1600/Screenshot-32.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
They're so cute aren't they? <3 I'mma just eat them up. <3<br />
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Oh hush, Ms.P.<br />
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Two poses, her and him. Posecoded image included in the download. One poselisted, one not. If you use a different couch you might need to alt+shift it or use an OMSP to lower/raise it.<br />
<br />
Standard TOU applies: Do NOT upload anywhere else for any reason, EVER. PERIOD.<br />
Do NOT claim as your own.<br />
Do NOT include with your own upload. Please link back here.<br />
Do NOT tweak and offer as your own.<br />
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Do Enjoy! If you use it in game, take a pic and post it online somewhere I'd LOVE to see! Leave a link and I'll leave some love in return!<br />
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<span style="font-size: 26.0pt;"><u>Download:</u></span><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/9bk5a2g5q2bbida/Sunny&#39;sCouchKissPosepack-Poselisted.7z"><span style="font-size: 20.0pt;">Poselisted</span></a><br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/ssaewzccuca950b/Sunny&#39;sCouchKissPosepack-NOTPoselisted.7z"><span style="font-size: 20.0pt;">NOT Poselisted</span></a><br />
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Huge thanks to <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/search/hyperkaos">Hyperkaos</a> for the wonderful feedback when I got too close to these and couldn't see the forest for the trees. You're a gem, darling!<br />
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Thanks to Misty for laughing with me when the anatomy went hilariously wrong. I have horrible aim. Ha!<br />
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And a GIANT thanks to <i>you</i> for helping celebrate my birthday today! Woot! Let's go party! <br />
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Want more birthday goodies from me? Go on to the next post!<br />
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ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-71485978029624495002015-03-17T06:16:00.000-05:002015-03-17T06:16:28.770-05:00Downloads- Objects- Stepping Stone Rugs<div style="text-align: center;">
It's.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 18.0pt;">My.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 32.0pt;">BIRTHDAY!!!</span></div>
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So! <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4I-b_GJ4ltk">♫♪Stepping Stones, Stepping stones, Stepping stones, Stepping stones. Never need a reason, never need a rhyme. Stepping sto-ones Stepping.stones!♪♫ </a>The audio is crap, but it's the tune that counts. <3<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FN8_UwsYrSD4aKShgRBvVaumAl5bmVcuzPLA1YAU93e4kEUvY1Ju6UnPHMSOtuZZMhHrBZi5vczYEiLPCsqYB0nEU_WHOjZ356uL65iHlTvWYHirOclXI88Pa52N8iHH3iHOpq2yjPqw/s1600/StepInTime.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FN8_UwsYrSD4aKShgRBvVaumAl5bmVcuzPLA1YAU93e4kEUvY1Ju6UnPHMSOtuZZMhHrBZi5vczYEiLPCsqYB0nEU_WHOjZ356uL65iHlTvWYHirOclXI88Pa52N8iHH3iHOpq2yjPqw/s1600/StepInTime.gif" height="220" width="400" /></a></div>
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Have some stepping stone rugs for your game!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfOer9O3apw92L-3__kPyCM7aqV5CEL069djVDIZIToTz3t6XU9Ya3ry8xch184v6YjqWUCZZUPD2eTKOofpgO0SvjRkH_SNYdoujKyaSD4RgCef3p7eIDr6if3NdcowpdsqQcKWhs0TF/s1600/Screenshot-46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfOer9O3apw92L-3__kPyCM7aqV5CEL069djVDIZIToTz3t6XU9Ya3ry8xch184v6YjqWUCZZUPD2eTKOofpgO0SvjRkH_SNYdoujKyaSD4RgCef3p7eIDr6if3NdcowpdsqQcKWhs0TF/s1600/Screenshot-46.jpg" height="320" width="202" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJKaMCFtundPwSULoJeEWVXGb_Mtk1BC-MgaKGS6LUP4Wlt9gUSTiCRbIG6VnWTaaV6j84bcR7qPNJtAy8tDsWECIc8a-dYZBed09TWN8-ptc4BuAgfnzYCOSRzoWJQXdXWroaPRAqV3RH/s1600/Screenshot-514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>
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These babies gave me so much grief. So.Much.Grief. But I learned a lot about the shaders in game and how they work so Yay!<br />
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Three presets!<br />
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Fully mapped with one recolorable channel!<br />
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They float on water!<br />
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Your sims walk right through them with nary a routing error! WIN!<br />
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Wait no longer, act today! Download the stepping stones and make that rocky path go your sims way!<br />
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Found under Decor->Rugs. OR in Outdoors>Accents or Lawn Ornaments for §15 each. <br />
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Standard TOU applies, Do NOT reupload ANYWHERE for ANY reason, PERIOD. EVER.<br />
Do NOT claim as your own. <br />
Do NOT include with your own uploads. Please link back to this page. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/download/4so17rwspdubkbp/Sunny&#39;sSteppingStoneRugCollection.package"><span style="font-size: 26.0pt;"><u>DOWNLOAD</u> Sunny's Stepping Stone Rugs!</span></a><br />
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Huge thanks to Misty for putting up with my neverending "I've been poking around and I think if I do <i>this</i>, <b><i>that</i></b> might happen and I might like it better." Incessant. There are about 6 versions of these rugs prior to these and I believe Misty tried most of them in her own game, patiently placing them over and over and taking pics for me. She didn't even get the final 2 versions I felt so bad. =D<br />
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My thanks to Suza at <a href="http://www.simplystyling.de/">http://www.simplystyling.de/</a>. It was <a href="http://www.simplystyling.de/Sims3/homesims3.html">her stepping stones</a> that got me to thinking it could be doable to make rock shaped rugs.<br />
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And thanks to YOU for stopping by to help celebrate the greatest day ever! Thank you! Want more birthday gifts from me? Go on to the next post!<br />
<br />ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-18758902199812969232015-03-10T22:24:00.001-05:002016-03-24T21:04:03.963-05:00Chapter 3.11- A Pitiless Yolk<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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Nothing good ever came in the mail. Ever. Though she had still been a teen when she’d taken over the household finances, Mariah had never gotten used to the bad news bills regularly brought.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hatred of bills trumped her hatred of chain letters, even. She’d received one from a cousin once. The thing had been burnt at her little hideaway cabin, it’s dire warnings never to be heeded and the cousin who had sent it still snubbed.
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But this was no chain letter. No. Nor was it the only bill in the mailbox. Mariah sighed.
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“Bills.”
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Once Upon a Time her bank account was flush with funds her parents had carefully built up. Then this house was smaller, chopped up and dark. It had been full of ghosts and shadows that came out to taunt Mariah, presenting her with every mistake she’d ever made. A particularly viscous one took the form of a dark stain on the floor. It arose with the sole intent of taking her back to the very darkest times. Regrets and tears would follow with their own haunting and she had been miserable under their pitiless yolk.
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No matter how bad things looked on paper, she couldn’t regret what she’d spent to make her house her home. *Home.* New walls and furnishings along with the laughter of her happy children had transformed it into such, banishing former times.
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A resounding <i>crash</i> followed by Vivia’s riotous laughter brought Mariah’s head up quickly. Now there was one more broken item needing to be replaced.
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She’d done so well before this! Still, she intended to be the paragon of single motherhood to prove to the world that she could do it all completely by herself. One day, once she’d taught her kids the value of persistence, she’d ask Roger to give up his dream and come home to stay with them always, but not now. She couldn’t ask that of him now.
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Plugging her ears against the cacophony her kids were making she turned her attention back to matters in front of her.
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Roger still offered to provide child support, but she couldn’t admit to him why she’d suddenly changed her mind. So far, she’d done wonderfully on her own and would continue to do so. There would have to be some belt tightening, that’s all. She could start tending to the unkempt front garden to get extra produce. Perhaps the twins could use cloth diapers instead of disposable. <i>Ick.</i> But there were plenty of other ways she could cut back on things to make it by, surely. No one would be the wiser to her financial mistakes.
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Despite a threat from the credit card company to cut her off if she didn’t pay them soon, she couldn’t resist going all out for Dove’s birthday. Balloons and streamers were everywhere, the cake much too big for their small party.
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Roger was back in town to help his mother settle something related to his father’s recent passing and was there to help them celebrate. He wouldn’t be able to stay too much longer, but having him home was always wonderful.
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A quick peek around the room sent flutters through her stomach. Ceeven was totally absorbed with that creepy doll some distant Aunt had sent, but Vivia was missing. In the interests of keeping costs down, she’d kept a much closer eye on Vivi lately, trying to keep her from destroying everything she touched.
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“Where’s Vivi? Have you seen Vivia?” she asked the room at large.
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“She can’t be too far,” Roger laughed at her. “She’s been eyeing the cake with more interest than Dove has for the last hour.”
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SparkleSpam! Because I can’t resist. =D
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNLnCrZXsCr-eZDKFw6Wf9Dw51BqgrUhyphenhyphenSzAWNZ5m-k0DqCdgrKjfNI3EaWf0rJcC4oq3F7AKb8boC0mUCUG08zMS-9zrTjVmUOR3771CWV2nBA7yJHZbbiSgCtxyBEDKSi6g_BGM34SXU/s1600/Screenshot-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNLnCrZXsCr-eZDKFw6Wf9Dw51BqgrUhyphenhyphenSzAWNZ5m-k0DqCdgrKjfNI3EaWf0rJcC4oq3F7AKb8boC0mUCUG08zMS-9zrTjVmUOR3771CWV2nBA7yJHZbbiSgCtxyBEDKSi6g_BGM34SXU/s1600/Screenshot-7.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzAz2_5bdWLCFftfddXOoVU_XTK93B0gC43IeuOnzklPvh9IYGzfLYUuKTMvRLfDkxI_xoy4YaE-3YZwDaeMx9NPSRqCpWesEeakgx_D_iU_y-koMVxgYtbWcWTCfokkSAbXsiaCo1WKm/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzAz2_5bdWLCFftfddXOoVU_XTK93B0gC43IeuOnzklPvh9IYGzfLYUuKTMvRLfDkxI_xoy4YaE-3YZwDaeMx9NPSRqCpWesEeakgx_D_iU_y-koMVxgYtbWcWTCfokkSAbXsiaCo1WKm/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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/End Sparkle Spam
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Vivi in tow, Mariah managed to make it back just in time. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at the little girl in front of her.
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“Happy Birthday, Dovey!” she gushed.
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Dovey, however, rolled her eyes at the familiar term. “It’s not ‘Dovey,’ Mom. Geez.”
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“She’s a big kid now!” Roger chanted before blowing a noisemaker as loudly as he could.
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“Says the ‘man’ who still dresses like he’s a teenager. If she’s a big kid now, how old does that make you?” she fired back. Big kid or no, that was still her baby standing over there cutting a massive slab of birthday cake.
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“Ha! How old does that make <i>you</i> then, beautiful?” Roger fired back with a wink.
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“Might I have this dance?” Dove had been twirling in front of the stereo from the moment she’d finished eating.
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“Oh! Yes, DaddyRoger! Er, kind sir. I would be honored to dance with you.” She’d chirruped back, blushing a little. After watching all those princess movies on TV, she knew just what she was supposed to say. The awkward feeling that came with the words was unexpected though.
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Roger suppressed a chuckle. This one was as girlie as her mother had been, still was.
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Catching on, Dove and her Daddy-Roger were quickly joined by the rest of the family. Not entirely sure what was going on, Ceeven attempted to play Peek-A-Boo with anyone whose eye he could catch. Vivia, surprisingly, seemed captivated, not even taking the opportunity of everyone else being distracted to run off and climb a bookcase or dresser. She hummed along to the tune, mimicking whatever Mariah did.
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Once Dove tired of Roger’s slow movements, moving away to show Ceeven what was really going on, he seized the opportunity to pick up his tiny dancer.
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Any time he got to be home, he’d spent as much time as he could with his kiddos. He and Dove had always had a special bond, Ceeven warmed up to him quickly too. But Vivia had proven a challenge for Roger. This one was too active to want to sit down and let her daddy cuddle her. If he’d try to join in her play, she’d run away instead.
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At first, he’d been hurt and nearly heartbroken that his daughter didn’t want anything to do with him. Eventually, Mariah had talked him into accepting it, but it rankled still. This moment thrilled him. Finally, Vivia looked at him and smiled all because he danced with her.
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“Mom! You look ridiculous!” laughed Dove.
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“Dikilus, Mama!” Ceeven giggled along.
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“Hey! Don’t spoil my fun! You’re just jealous you can’t move. Like. <i>This!</i>” she smiled back at the pair, popping a hip.
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Seeing Ceeven act droopier than usual he scooped up “Cee,” as Vivi termed him, and settled on the couch with his kids.
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This little boy was almost exactly opposite his sister. He was calm and quiet, mellow and sweet. Long ago, his mother had used those very words to describe how he’d seemed to her compared to his rowdy older brothers.
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Sighing, he turned to the little girl now fascinated by his piercings. Pointing and babbling, her tiny hand warming his shoulder as her smiles warmed his heart Roger felt there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his kids. Stomach sinking, he realized how much he had missed by not being there all the time. He was away from work now, why go back? Why not take the chance to switch assignments and come home?
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Life was too short not to take every opportunity to be with those you love. In this moment he was willing to sacrifice everything to be here with his family all of the time. He needed them. They deserved him.
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The kids were finally down. It had taken extra effort to get Vivia quiet. A sugary cake and the excitement of a family party had wound her up more than usual. And when she was wound up, she liked to prod at Ceeven, daring him in her own way to match her high spirits and keep up with her.</span></span></div>
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Thankfully, Dove had moved into her own room, now sleeping in the big girl bed set aside for her so long ago. This freed up her old room, and her old crib, for Mariah to separate her twins at last.
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She’d taken Vivia into the other nursery to give her a bath, hoping the warm water and a good rubdown would calm her. Sure enough, she’d drifted off easily for once. That’s when Mariah found that Ceeven was sitting, whimpering for his missing sister.
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So Mariah had plucked him out of his crib and rocked until he’d finally nodded off, nearly nodding off herself. And now she was free to spend time alone with Roger.
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Looking at his form, stretched out along the couch, a glow spread through her, warming her cheeks with thoughts of indulgence. It had been so long since he had been able to spend so much time with them. She’d missed him. She’d needed him.</span></span></div>
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Wasting no time, Mariah straddled Roger, kissing him with such an intensity she actually felt physically hungry. Bending low, she nibbled a little at his jaw line, tracing it with her tongue in between. His shirt in her grasp, she ground her hips into his, reveling in the knowledge he wanted her as much as she did him.
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“Marry me, Mariah.”
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Roger cupped her chin in his hands now, had pulled her back from him, forcing her to meet his gaze. But she couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. She needed him. Didn’t he get that? She couldn’t wait. There was nothing left of her but a flame burning brightly just for him.
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“Marry me, Mariah.”
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This time, Roger spaced the words out, breathing into them a passion that stole away her own.
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Mariah.”</span></span></div>
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Closing her eyes, Mariah let out a heavy breath. The hand clutching his shirt, grasped it ever harder until she found that Roger was holding her wrist in the same way.
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“Mariah.”
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Slowly, she let go of the shirt, noting she’d ripped it a little with her nails. Despite relaxing her own grip, Roger’s on her tightened. He wanted an answer.
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Face burning, she lifted her eyes back to his. A deep breath in intended to enable her response couldn’t give her the courage she needed to be able to say it. The second and third ones did no better, leaving her as cowardly and silent as the first.
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“Mariah.”
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He was pleading now. Begging her to end his suspense; begging her to declare one way or the other, to make up her mind, to give his heart wings and his life an anchor. Finally, tired of waiting, he let go of her wrist. With the release, her voice found her at last and she crushed him with a whisper.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5fHoYBAPuYsMJ4VuPe4uWRTDo45b6znroZfvcTrZJXgYsuOPIO83AbNnwHn1IQp4ib60Vw9E7nr5X0rUscXGrY5pZYb7DmcfK9fmm20KUmi372hMFUP4Uq7XpKuRz7K67xims3b_mVHe/s1600/Screenshot-28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5fHoYBAPuYsMJ4VuPe4uWRTDo45b6znroZfvcTrZJXgYsuOPIO83AbNnwHn1IQp4ib60Vw9E7nr5X0rUscXGrY5pZYb7DmcfK9fmm20KUmi372hMFUP4Uq7XpKuRz7K67xims3b_mVHe/s1600/Screenshot-28.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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“No.”
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-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
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Roll Reveal!
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
Marital Structure is!
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
Single.
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Sorry folks. :(
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
Also, my apologies for the wait. Things should be slowing back down in a week or so, hopefully meaning updates a little closer together<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="font-family: inherit;">a</span></span>nd I</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">’</span></span></span></span></span>ll be able to catch up on all I</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">’</span></span></span></span></span>m so terribly behind on.</span></span></div>
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</span></span></span>ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786507526217847447.post-18718163394615932692015-01-30T21:54:00.000-06:002016-03-24T22:27:32.200-05:00Chapter 3.10- These Fantasies<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Language Warning!</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">If you don't like foul language, skip the text below the second pic with the moving truck in it. ;) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Strange… how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the very same time.”
― Ransom Riggs, Hollow City</i>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPBHc7HL6yQ4VW608HxS_Ks-3FrcWzoWG0GOrQV6TUjEEq52XN6I1HNdKgTRHKp_1frhKau5MjxVz3ZDuwwvOhXDVwLCdWkUSvkfBNmzT4GEH0indSCBeKGCf6rbkrvTOFojS9dcRhUqcR/s1600/Screenshot-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPBHc7HL6yQ4VW608HxS_Ks-3FrcWzoWG0GOrQV6TUjEEq52XN6I1HNdKgTRHKp_1frhKau5MjxVz3ZDuwwvOhXDVwLCdWkUSvkfBNmzT4GEH0indSCBeKGCf6rbkrvTOFojS9dcRhUqcR/s1600/Screenshot-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>“Rooooogeeeeerrrrrrr…”</i></span></span></div>
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<i>“Roooooggggggeeeeerrrrr…”</i>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq07jkHV3GAj9dZty9fiCCMBmlUcruAj3aK4KutX-se1N-kZjdOySXxhR6hyX4kpmqXzNHhMW7hU_0wwxi3GDYizr7NhviFVHdnRvS3UW_sCByMfc1tuqeVlWn2hFoYyIonZ8UCU-ouB1n/s1600/Screenshot-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq07jkHV3GAj9dZty9fiCCMBmlUcruAj3aK4KutX-se1N-kZjdOySXxhR6hyX4kpmqXzNHhMW7hU_0wwxi3GDYizr7NhviFVHdnRvS3UW_sCByMfc1tuqeVlWn2hFoYyIonZ8UCU-ouB1n/s1600/Screenshot-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Huh?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What the-”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3t3sTTymv6KXFqZylcHlBThiNNJLt8I4wekiswynXRMhB9ZuHGXqbzeEgN_3wKX6C7aGs-WsSWDM0O7ViELO6cF5GA_mLzHTdFZ-EqNWgpSL1lPMW4UN68DEDoRiOIY5wcnHIqOX7r4wO/s1600/Screenshot-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3t3sTTymv6KXFqZylcHlBThiNNJLt8I4wekiswynXRMhB9ZuHGXqbzeEgN_3wKX6C7aGs-WsSWDM0O7ViELO6cF5GA_mLzHTdFZ-EqNWgpSL1lPMW4UN68DEDoRiOIY5wcnHIqOX7r4wO/s1600/Screenshot-5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Whoa.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>“Rooooggggggeeeerrrr…”</i></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-b5PcnFmCu_Mgv9Zx3ovU6kVEi3jEukB7AJcb9rUcAyYFikTSCoWLm8g-Ewgl7Pvonyey2RkMDuh6FV0qwgGeKh0lpE4kae4QH_DGWcYoVbPWYgonZv76ukPvEjl7BGKjQV5bmi_CcSwu/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-b5PcnFmCu_Mgv9Zx3ovU6kVEi3jEukB7AJcb9rUcAyYFikTSCoWLm8g-Ewgl7Pvonyey2RkMDuh6FV0qwgGeKh0lpE4kae4QH_DGWcYoVbPWYgonZv76ukPvEjl7BGKjQV5bmi_CcSwu/s1600/Screenshot-6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Mariah?”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBl-QkISwhn1Sx9KgZVHqmnys2GTAwMx60PomDT41p7xcDAi8__xRnHhFNBNQVUY-57Q5-WH9uLVjkDy68J1O7cvyEt-Xb4udM9w9Nd7jsI5tfb15jeMdLiJA8GmfG2vAwspa7tSTXrubw/s1600/Screenshot-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBl-QkISwhn1Sx9KgZVHqmnys2GTAwMx60PomDT41p7xcDAi8__xRnHhFNBNQVUY-57Q5-WH9uLVjkDy68J1O7cvyEt-Xb4udM9w9Nd7jsI5tfb15jeMdLiJA8GmfG2vAwspa7tSTXrubw/s1600/Screenshot-7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>“Roooooogggggeeeeeeeerrr…”</i></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghtLCpDwVVb4lDB0o_IntREOMKnpG2MGGEb_q5YgxXT3lYUPBduVI81Z0iWkno_SENmEg_V1x9cVoFwswa7U9GaLIJ4MIErjbSdj4b8D_qD2G4FIiO1BqkebEpKgovK51X7pO-cyxEs24d/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghtLCpDwVVb4lDB0o_IntREOMKnpG2MGGEb_q5YgxXT3lYUPBduVI81Z0iWkno_SENmEg_V1x9cVoFwswa7U9GaLIJ4MIErjbSdj4b8D_qD2G4FIiO1BqkebEpKgovK51X7pO-cyxEs24d/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Mariah.”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUyrzwrX5iUjcr36ePC3OjDAmTAnnhD0BMh7Y_7avmwJDUevMTXKBeMqJ55OTHoyoHIR0JH8O9c4vlR5_OauVx05ivASj_EV2hik-wdnpCdpa_c7xmzoviIu1OTnWSaY6HFXNjNbQIKnJU/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUyrzwrX5iUjcr36ePC3OjDAmTAnnhD0BMh7Y_7avmwJDUevMTXKBeMqJ55OTHoyoHIR0JH8O9c4vlR5_OauVx05ivASj_EV2hik-wdnpCdpa_c7xmzoviIu1OTnWSaY6HFXNjNbQIKnJU/s1600/Screenshot-9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Mariah!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Roger! Catch me!”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPM1ME5CC21GG0TILiZRP5-6YpyUBqKUYcDVWmDtlZI7_x2tzHFbwnnCUyLEuBJot-hKTNwTgRcaQEV3mo2vkvB048Uhj4OLNNi_QG_SSRmhmZegZn_4KDelOITp9qiAabMfm9PXFG7sb/s1600/Screenshot-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPM1ME5CC21GG0TILiZRP5-6YpyUBqKUYcDVWmDtlZI7_x2tzHFbwnnCUyLEuBJot-hKTNwTgRcaQEV3mo2vkvB048Uhj4OLNNi_QG_SSRmhmZegZn_4KDelOITp9qiAabMfm9PXFG7sb/s1600/Screenshot-10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You can fly!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I can do anything, Roger. I’m the most amazing woman you know.”
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgntK_H38bh76dhyphenhyphenAmX0DPaUU2TBzQAMv8-PQk-6N7oYE3QypkIdOIOYQKMvWKqh6KcATEzyPt5akm0j8KSWk6rWavl3L7bJSsxUJEM3nUn2tZGj1SBll7ytd9oaXROujbvv-kg07eaW0mb/s1600/Screenshot-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgntK_H38bh76dhyphenhyphenAmX0DPaUU2TBzQAMv8-PQk-6N7oYE3QypkIdOIOYQKMvWKqh6KcATEzyPt5akm0j8KSWk6rWavl3L7bJSsxUJEM3nUn2tZGj1SBll7ytd9oaXROujbvv-kg07eaW0mb/s1600/Screenshot-11.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Marry me, Roger.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Huh? Whu-Wa-What? What?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Marry me!”</span></span></div>
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“M-marry you-you? I thought we’d-we’d talked about this. That-that staying in my job was-was good and you wanted to do this on-on your own a little bit?”</span></span></div>
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“You’re too good for me. I realize that now and I don’t want to lose you to some floozy in Lucky Palms. Quit your job. Come home to Appaloosa. Marry me.”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDVYq-CB8k2-_zXpNSiSwPoALyorw5Zt12YO1Z7VSetRvnRS2P3t1Lvto1dBkbdJ59c-G0AHHvfvUNAqG3XJo7micua7eG8n4DTwMZLxmFiLen6uDOIYcQ1GZxOj8BLBqfZ90cBhs3Z09k/s1600/Screenshot-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDVYq-CB8k2-_zXpNSiSwPoALyorw5Zt12YO1Z7VSetRvnRS2P3t1Lvto1dBkbdJ59c-G0AHHvfvUNAqG3XJo7micua7eG8n4DTwMZLxmFiLen6uDOIYcQ1GZxOj8BLBqfZ90cBhs3Z09k/s1600/Screenshot-12.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Marry me, Roger! Come home to me, Roger! The kids miss you. I miss you.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“…”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I need you! The kids need you! Your family needs you! Come home! Marry me.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I just- I mean- I love you so-<i>so</i> much, but this isn’t what we’d talked about. I want to be with all of you more. But I don’t know how to leave.”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0qjBP1spFjY73lA33-40urA7_6JvDsSHcWJfH_ZE856Fy2v1HHze69I8zAL4D-AK4pItbs_BH6z5n6Q6dXH9azKy3ezQE2WFFlf8XmK2nMwIvIrqhyzDPvZLnCZ3nKXf67YFtGQfTxUg/s1600/Screenshot-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0qjBP1spFjY73lA33-40urA7_6JvDsSHcWJfH_ZE856Fy2v1HHze69I8zAL4D-AK4pItbs_BH6z5n6Q6dXH9azKy3ezQE2WFFlf8XmK2nMwIvIrqhyzDPvZLnCZ3nKXf67YFtGQfTxUg/s1600/Screenshot-13.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I taught you better than this. Don’t make her beg.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>“Mo-om!”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No! You need to marry the mother of your children! We’ve talked about this. It’s high time you quit these fantasies you have of being some hot shot undercover cop and come home. Settle down. Be a father. Your brother needs you, too. Without you here to smooth things out for him, he’ll probably go to prison this time. They got the car <i>back</i> though! No harm done. But he needs you to help him out.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fine! Fine, I’ll figure something out.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s my boy. Now give Mama a kiss.”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhInrmBxglg2SeEPT70SdIOKxMSjUfSy1Aq7ZM3K6U9wRnbULhULkxAn3pcRMemf83oscMPeT1GnPzx1B6JaTAyQFmMjlvSlQK83E9Ibd91DbwJjimmWkRZef_FuXaDtwffPKPg-Ng-5o/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfhInrmBxglg2SeEPT70SdIOKxMSjUfSy1Aq7ZM3K6U9wRnbULhULkxAn3pcRMemf83oscMPeT1GnPzx1B6JaTAyQFmMjlvSlQK83E9Ibd91DbwJjimmWkRZef_FuXaDtwffPKPg-Ng-5o/s1600/Screenshot-14.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Mom! No! Geez!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh, just one kiss! You look so sweet when you’re asleep. You’ll never even know…”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihsIuzW_Ur_hgLjfouo_mxjCxQUa3VBbLZGdD44_7UBp65Bh8pMbKuuav1iIzksRCt3nCUPFkdn-d66yxO3f0Am9ypUX31pSdbH7-eCj2L5sPB3OlBTMMOaf09z__78Z5bwYnUNvR9EfB5/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihsIuzW_Ur_hgLjfouo_mxjCxQUa3VBbLZGdD44_7UBp65Bh8pMbKuuav1iIzksRCt3nCUPFkdn-d66yxO3f0Am9ypUX31pSdbH7-eCj2L5sPB3OlBTMMOaf09z__78Z5bwYnUNvR9EfB5/s1600/Screenshot-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>“AAAAAUUUUURRRRGGGHHHH! Nooooooo!”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>“What?!?!? NO!”</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Dammit, Devi!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What the <i>hell</i>, Rocky?!?”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin11wcYP_KfNp9-HbTksIlKxTHN_N1ywhMY8F9Jecw1geroPezTBVPcWTiaWWfra_tWAn00xeZ-RQlK_vbVsKkyKK-zrvzswfnYwLlPrbBw9wGQBkzbddQfSfvGb3BlEo99kHB_jd9S66g/s1600/Screenshot-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin11wcYP_KfNp9-HbTksIlKxTHN_N1ywhMY8F9Jecw1geroPezTBVPcWTiaWWfra_tWAn00xeZ-RQlK_vbVsKkyKK-zrvzswfnYwLlPrbBw9wGQBkzbddQfSfvGb3BlEo99kHB_jd9S66g/s1600/Screenshot-16.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Jus’ tryin’ to wake ya up gently,” Devi grumbled, eyes narrowed. “No need ta knock me down.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, I’m not sorry, Devi,” Roger scrubbed at his eyes, trying to focus. “How did you get in here?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Tex gave me a key,” she replied icily, standing up taller than her usual slouch allowed for. “He wants to see you. Now. An’ I would’ve let you have an extra half hour or so if you’d jus’ lemme.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Roger looked up in disgust at Devi who had melted back into her usual attempt at sexy.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaM3MIZETJVcLrIOlzE49c6IRFY7ulOueqIOiCSkiPPJ4ye7t2l7B-X69x2B0Rr5spBLtte1crmcOQFMKL1MKI5yoNzBOQElak769EUllqF3RVomuhyphenhyphenZLJ92ujJaOB3iNboZ3yuEnrYVlz/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaM3MIZETJVcLrIOlzE49c6IRFY7ulOueqIOiCSkiPPJ4ye7t2l7B-X69x2B0Rr5spBLtte1crmcOQFMKL1MKI5yoNzBOQElak769EUllqF3RVomuhyphenhyphenZLJ92ujJaOB3iNboZ3yuEnrYVlz/s1600/Screenshot-17.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Come on, Rocky,” she purred. “You’re the only one of ‘a boys who won’t take a little stress relief. You know it’d be good. Relax ya a little. You’re so uptight. So <i>tense</i>.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Any remorse he had felt at accidentally striking her, knocking her down, evaporated as he pulled on a shirt. Devi forever tried to force herself on him. He’d never harmed a woman before though. His mom would kill him if she knew. Aaand there’s that remorse right back where it should be.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No. And I won’t keep Tex waiting. Is his limo outside?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Nah, ‘e’s down at the bar.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Is it two already? Did I sleep that long?”</span></span></div>
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“Nah! It’s only ten. He don’t do business there when it’s open. Ya oughta know that.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“No, Devi. I don’t <i>‘oughtta know’</i> that. I’ve only met him at the warehouse before. Did he send a cab?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Nah, but I can call one.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Nah, we’ll walk. I need to work some kinks out.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“I can help you work some ‘kinks’ out, Rock. Got a strap on if that’s what tempt’s ya.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Bite me, Devorah.”
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>
“Gosh, I’d love to.”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyx-7yOrxb2gX3cYZvpFP2dY2lSXqcm80yCJsUQeG4_vN83cQxEq5jlA-GyQuntTDgzad5TyFtrfwyVK_DvJR-pa0Bq51XYWyDuX1QUIBccBShmNtfH73LJmHlXDw2EkEYXnjQphYE8Gkj/s1600/Screenshot-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyx-7yOrxb2gX3cYZvpFP2dY2lSXqcm80yCJsUQeG4_vN83cQxEq5jlA-GyQuntTDgzad5TyFtrfwyVK_DvJR-pa0Bq51XYWyDuX1QUIBccBShmNtfH73LJmHlXDw2EkEYXnjQphYE8Gkj/s1600/Screenshot-18.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Roger cringed as the sunlight poked his eyes. He needed to get a move on if he wanted to shake Devi.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>To his chagrin he felt her arm slip through his, her claws tearing into him before he’d even made it two steps.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What’s he wantin’ to see ya ‘bout this time?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Dunno. Figured you knew.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Not this time. He’s been tight lipped since that last incident.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Roger sneered. That was probably what this was about. Lucky Palms PD had at last managed to slip in someone from their own department, but she was screwing things up badly. He’d so hoped she would have worked out so he could have made his exit, gone back home.</span></span></div>
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“Not that one,” a familiar voice trilled near to him. “Andre! Not that one! The one marked kitchen! Not den silly. Why would I put your dishes in a box marked for the den?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Roger stopped abruptly, making Devi crash into him. That voice. In this house. Tex owned this house. He owned all the houses on this street. Which meant…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“New neighbor. Tex hired ‘im. He’s got some fancy degree and connections like you wouldn’t believe. Tex thinks he can turn the casino around, make it profitable again. I hope so. I haven’t had a new fur from ‘im for nearly five years,” Devi whispered, thinking he was only gawking at the new comers.</span></span></div>
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Roger hadn’t seen Andre since graduation, almost… five years ago? Yup. Five years. Dove would be heading off to kindergarten shortly after her birthday coming up. The asshole hadn’t sent a single dime to help Mariah out in all that time, never bothered to learn his daughter’s name. Not a letter. No phone calls. No visits. For all Andre knew, Dove didn’t exist.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>White hot rage bubbled up in him. Dove knew Roger wasn’t really her daddy, smart little thing. Not like they’d tried to keep it a secret, much less not like he treated her any different from his own. Still though, Dove called him Daddy along with his own two children. He’d had more to do with her and her upbringing than any other person besides Mariah and it made him seethe that this fucked up, self-absorbed, swaggering piece of shit had the right to one day waltz in and take his daughter. Dove was <i>his</i> daughter. Not Andre’s. His. <i>His</i> Dove. <i>His</i> Mariah.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Uhm, Rock?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Imagining the hurt he could give Andre gave him great satisfaction. He’d learned a lot after three years working for Tex, five years on the force. Using that, first he’d-</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“-Rocky?” Devi tugged urgently on his arm until he finally turned to her.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Rocky, we need to get goin’. He’s waitin’. You a’ight?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Get off me, Devi. I’m fine. Let’s go.”</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0gTJzyAU8DkjXXUE5rXMMVoQQ0V-uf0PgSrw0UIexYagKEn5JRaoPN23ah05zqUWUMDne4xuaLkp1FQ8Du8YxItA6aRtONoq05BxPNhChCK8O2MdAJCMtutjyr25ah9IIBBtDmqFrlzW/s1600/Screenshot-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0gTJzyAU8DkjXXUE5rXMMVoQQ0V-uf0PgSrw0UIexYagKEn5JRaoPN23ah05zqUWUMDne4xuaLkp1FQ8Du8YxItA6aRtONoq05BxPNhChCK8O2MdAJCMtutjyr25ah9IIBBtDmqFrlzW/s1600/Screenshot-22.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You’ve kept me waiting.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Roger fought back a desire to roll his eyes. Tex would take offense to that.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He insisted on walkin’,” Devi piped up from behind Roger.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I don’t have time for walking. If you won’t call a cab, I’ll send a car next time. Or perhaps it’s time for you to buy your own? You could get a nice one with a little foresight.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Roger strode over to the table Tex sat at, throwing himself in a chair. Most of his money went into a savings account for the kids to one day attend college or buy a house, or whatever they wanted. Mariah had refused his offers to pay child support so he was left doing this instead. But it left him plenty short on buying a car to stay in Lucky Palms with him. He had one in Appaloosa Plains…</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BB9xmCLFQ0xEsZUh0nc-gB-IbTALlmhIwFwUhMpIxKuelU1NggxPFxPr1XyQl6wk4c2T-82Aqhfk5J2yxrCt17Orea3zyUV-rKZ1JoGUS95Jd6weTijixEZivTyuQGJrOXsdZBfF4zjK/s1600/Screenshot-23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BB9xmCLFQ0xEsZUh0nc-gB-IbTALlmhIwFwUhMpIxKuelU1NggxPFxPr1XyQl6wk4c2T-82Aqhfk5J2yxrCt17Orea3zyUV-rKZ1JoGUS95Jd6weTijixEZivTyuQGJrOXsdZBfF4zjK/s1600/Screenshot-23.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Make Rock a drink, Dev. He looks a bit riled up today. It’s too early to be so surly.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sure.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Realizing he’d just shooed Devi off for a more private conversation, Roger tentatively raised his eyes to Tex’s.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What the <i>hell</i> happened Thursday?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dammit. He’d never get to go home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It was a mess.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Someone tipped the cops off. Your crew was on duty that night, Rocky. Therefore, <i>you’ve</i> got a mole.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah. That’s what I figured, too.” LPPD would be pissed to no end when he sent their mole packing after only two weeks. But she’d tipped the department off too cleanly, too early on.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Find them. Finish them.” Tex was entirely too casual, leaning back in his chair once more. “I don’t want it to happen again. We lost over a hundred grand that night.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Roger stole a glance at Tex. His crew had nearly twenty people on it, more than twice what he needed. Tex would employ anyone who came to him with a sob story. It betrayed a naturally generous nature he would have loved to explore more thoroughly. A lot of people’s kids had diapers and full bellies due to his kindness.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hell. Devi? Was a giver. They were both products of circumstance and bad luck with so much more potential. At times Roger hated himself for finding what they did, who they were, despicable. Life hadn’t given them much choice. Yet, they did have a choice and Roger hated the choices each of them had made. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I know you’ve got a lot of people to go through to find who did it,” Tex continued, his gaze piercing. “But if you find who did it, I’ll let you take a break. Maybe you won’t have to have such a sloppy crew, either.”</span></span></div>
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There he went. Tex and his generous side.
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“I’ll find ‘em.”</span></span></div>
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“I know you will. Or I’ll start finding out where you go on your days off.”</span></span></div>
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The blood drained out of Roger’s head quickly enough he thought he might be sick.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Drinks for both a’ ya!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tex leaned back, ignoring the outstretched tray.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ah. I thought that would do it. Sorry, Rock. But I gotta make sure you’re motivated, <i>loyal</i>. Like I said, it was <i>your</i> crew, and <i>you</i> disappear a little more ‘n I like. C’mon Devi. There’s a new hot tub in the penthouse suite I’ve been dying to try out.”</span></span></div>
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I.Am. SOOOOOOO sorry for the delay getting this one out! So sorry. It ended up taking a lot more effort than I’d imagined. Two worlds to set up, 6 lots to get straightened out, an object to make (I NEEDED those stepping stones to lead to the column dammit! Needed them!) 2 characters to make, poses to find and make, accessories to reposition and make blahblahblahblaaaaahblahblahblahdeblahblah. Excuses Excuses. Sorry. I love you all. Thank you for your patience.<3 <br />
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I get the above might have been a little confusing. Please PLEASE feel free to ask about anything that might not have made perfect sense.
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Oh, One of Roger’s brothers really is a klepto. I’m forever getting pop ups about him failing to steal this, that and the other. One time, he got caught trying to steal a coffee table from Roger himself! Ha!
</span></span><!--3-->ShakespearesSunshynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019826982875949328noreply@blogger.com23