Falling in and out of mirrors! I started reading a story yesterday about someone being trapped in a mirror and only coming out in moonlight. While I was reading I was thinking of your Errol and Harcourt.
Geeze!!! Wow!!! Brilliant!!!! Lynet, this is wonderful. Very creative, and wonderful pictures!!! Lovin it. I can't work for reading stories today. LOL
“Whatever happened to my mother is none of your business.” “It is the reason we are here.” “I was thinking of Kate when we stepped through the mirror.” “How did your mother die?” “I don’t know. I was at school. I‘m not discussing this anymore. They want to close this place so we have to find a bar that’s open all night. I need something besides coffee to drink while we wait for the mirrors to come back.” “Sleep,” he yawned. “We need to lie down.” “There are benches in the park across the road. Let’s go.” I paid the waiter for the meal with extra for keeping him late. My plan was to leave Harcourt on a park bench and go find a bar. Deep inside the park, away from the street, I found him a bench. Harcourt had been quiet as we walked and I thought he’d just go to sleep. I should have known him better by now. “Was it a fire?” he said. “Drop it, Harcourt. I’ll be back shortly. Get some sleep.” I started to leave but he stepped in front of me. “The mirrors will not let you through until the reason we are here is resolved.” “Oh, yes they will! I have to get back to Kate. She’s thinking I’ve abandoned her. I don’t want her thinking that. If not the mirrors then I‘ll walk from here to Strangetown!” “And you will find the child named Kate who will one day be wife to a man named Errol. But it is not the Errol that you are.” “I need a drink and I need to get away from you. Sit down! Or lie down! I don’t care! But stay here. I’ll be back.” I almost hit him. Instead I walked away. Down Main Street I found the community swimming pool still open although there was nobody there except a clerk and a bartender. It was the bar my Granddad always hung around. This entire business, this trip to my past, was giving me a serious case of the shakes. I ordered a drink and took it to a chair near the diving board. From there I had a pretty clear view of the house across the road: 225 Main Street. It was my Granddad’s house, where I’d grown up and learned the burglar’s trade. I swallowed my drink and tried to calm down.
Thanks, Kristal. Whew! I've been wondering if my story was just a little too kooky to keep people interested. But I'll keep at it. With Errol and Harcourt traveling around like this I've found myself exploring neighborhoods I'd ignored up to now. Sort of time consuming. Actually I've been downloading some interesting outfits for people in future chapters of the story. The armor gave me the idea. But I can't divulge more until I figure out how exactly I'm going to do it.
No such thing! At least not as far as I'm concerned ... Yeah! I can't wait to read all about it! I really love this story. You are so inventive!
Thanks, you guys. I thought about this for a little while today, Person123. But then I decided that I'm using some major functions of this game that are part of its popularity. For example, Body Shop allows us to create a Sim that can be imported to the game and duplicated many times. The same Sim can appear in different times and different places over and over again (not to mention uploaded and duplicated around the human world)--anyway, the Sim version of time travel. The game also provides the means to create many different lands to visit! How many neighborhoods do you have? How many castles have you built? Game players all over the world have been creating fantastic clothes and costumes. Beautiful stuff. Imaginative stuff. Period customes. Fantasy costumes. Wow, can any Sim be satisfied with just one outfit? And a quiet life in Pleasantville? Finally, what makes the Sim world go round? Love, of course. I haven't forgotten that either. Conclusion, I'm not really addiing much at all. Errol and Harcourt are just exploring certain idiosyncracies of the game and taking advantage of them. And I'm having one whale of a good time, too.
I like that you've come up with a plot that doesn't revolve around love, though. Love is what drives them, of course, but it's not why they're skipping around in time. Very inventive. It's hard to do non soap-opera plots in the Sims, as everything usually revolves around their social lives. So, kudos to you. Not that I don't enjoy reading (or writing) soap operas. Just really enjoying your story!
I love your Saga, SBW, and I have thoroughly enjoyed reading everyone else's love stories in the Worldsims forum, too. Mirelly's beats all for atmosphere. I tried reading the stories in another forum that I won't name and *yawn* couldn't get beyond the first couple of boring posts although the pictures were extremely good in a lot of them. We have really outstanding writers here at Worldsims. But, no question, my primary focus with Errol and Harcourt is the adventure and not the love. With my husband at work tomorrow (tax accountant) I'm planning on a day of simming. Fingers crossed. :bandit: Hope the poor wretch doesn't leave work early. Shhhh, please don't tell him I said that.
If we were only interested in woohoo we'd all be playing the playboy mansion but you, and sbw and kristal just show the unlimited possibilities of game play, when we direct the story instead of letting the sim direct us. keep it up everyone you are all greatly appreciated by me.
I'm hoping to have about 5 straight hours of simming tomorrow and Sunday since we have Monday off. Why don't I do my homework tomorrow (hafta do Chinese homework today....don't ask why I'm not doing it right now) instead of Monday? Because I find that I have to do some school stuff the day before school starts again, or else the next day I sorta feel...surreal. Like, I'm not really supposed to be at school. Homework brings me back to real life.
It was daybreak when I finished my last drink, stumbled out to the street, took one final look at the house, and headed for the park. With hands shoved hard in my jacket pockets and chin almost touching my chest I didnt notice the old guy who followed me. Harcourt sat up on the bench. Who is this you have brought with you? Who is who? Him. I turned around as the old guy came right up to my face and poked his finger into my chest. What for, he snarled, are you watching my house. All NIGHT! All night you watch my house and I watch you watch my house. Who are you? I scratched at my jacket where hed stabbed me with his finger. Its a real nice house. I couldnt take my eyes off it. Now go home. Sure, I knew who I was facing here. It was Granddad as I remembered him. Always picking fights with people for no reason. He was about to shove me into the pond, Not a good answer, you bum. he said. Dont be fooled by my little bit of white hair. I can break your I interrupted him, Im Emil. Chesters son. Dont I look like him? That stopped him cold. He stared hard at me and mumbled, So, hows Chester? Ive no idea. Havent seen him in years. Ive been in the clink. This last confession made him smile. The clink? Which one? Im familiar with a couple of them myself. Athelston. Its a pigsty. You know it? Very well, he snickered. Very well, I do. And hows my buddy, Woolsey? The Wardens your buddy? Id heard plenty about Woolsey from Granddad when I was a kid. Woolsey, of course, had retired by the time I got there as an adult. Eventually. Then he waved in the direction of Harcourt, Whos this? Just met him on the road. Harcourts OK. So you like the house? Come back and let me show you the inside. Well have breakfast and talk about everybody we know whos still up at Athelston. You mustve met Jarvis. He ruled the place. Granddad had a strong grip on my arm as he pulled me toward the road. I remembered that big fist of his from my years under his roof. Hed never been easy to live with. Harcourt followed along without saying a word.
No, I did not want to go into that house. I thought of excuses but said nothing, just let Granddad quiz me about Athelston. It was a test and I seemed to have passed. As we neared the fence around the house, though, I stopped walking. Whats the matter, Emil? Are you going to say no to my hospitality? Why do you stop here? Hospitality had always been real big with Granddad. To refuse him now would raise a ruckus for sure. But have you ever desperately desired something and been terrified of it at the same time? Yes? No? Make no mistake, its a real bad experience. Sir, Harcourt said suddenly from behind us. We are very welcome of your hospitality. Breakfast will be much favored. Emil is merely weary from travels. With one of them on each side of me I was pulled into the house by the elbows. Granddad further shoved us into the living room while he put breakfast together. And there I came face to face with my dead mother. Except she was not dead, but very much breathing and smiling at us. Oh, my, she said. Who has Dad brought home this morning? Harcourt sensed I was in a bad way. I am Iven Harcourt, My Lady Waring, he said smoothly, and bowed over her hand, kissing it. She blushed. And this, he pulled me forward, is my friend Emil. Mom held out her hands to me. I touched the warm palms gingerly then took her by surprise when I suddenly threw my arms around her. Harcourt sunk his fingers painfully into my shoulder and I let her go. Emil, he said to her, is very hungry and very tired and extremely regrets these liberties with your kind hospitality. Please forgive us our intrusions. She smiled weakly and seemed only a little flustered by it all. Fortunately, Granddad yelled out at that moment from the kitchen. Pancakes.
Granddad sat across from me at the long kitchen table, eating hearty, talking with his mouth spilling food. “Viola,” he shouted, though she sat next to him, “where’s Errol? Still in bed?” “No, no. He’s playing with the telescope out back. He’ll be here in a minute.” This was too much. I stood up. “I’ve some business to take care of. See you.” I headed for the front door and almost trampled the kid. He made a face, curling his lip at the clumsy stranger. It was worse than seeing a ghost. I bolted, ran across the road, past the swimming pool, to the bar. Ten minutes later someone sat down on the next barstool. Granddad. He ordered a drink and nursed it for a moment. “So how’s Chester?” he said. “I can’t say.” “No. You sure can’t. Since there’s no such person.” “Yes there is. You talked about him all the time! Your brother, Chester. In Strangetown. It’s all I heard about …” I’d said too much. I waved at the bartender and held up my glass. “Strong stuff, this. Goes right to my head and makes me crazy.” “Me, too,” he nodded. “And I make mistakes, like bringing the wrong sort home to meet my daughter.” I held up my hands. “I’m not going anywhere near her or that house again. I swear on my mother’s…uh…eh…” “I’m not talking about you.” “Harcourt’s harmless. He’s madly in love with Alka.” ‘Who’s Alka?” “A fantasy.” “I’m talking about Don Lothario. He’s after every woman in town. He’s engaged to Goth’s daughter but that doesn’t stop him from fooling around and he’s been fooling around with Viola. I saw him practically break her back with his smooching her in my own front yard the other night.” We commiserated in silence for a few minutes, then he shifted on his stool. “Something funny about you and Harcourt. Can’t quite put my finger on it.” “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be leaving later today.” “Where’d you hear that nonsense about Chester? Viola’s boy, Errol, is the only one I’ve ever spun that yarn to.” “Heard it in Athelston. You must have talked in your sleep while you were there.” “Possible. Snoring’s more like it.” He slid off the stool. “Got to get back to the house. If you happen to see Lothario around here, give him a black eye for me.” I watched the old man’s proud back as he walked away.
Lynet, this is just fantastic. I love the pictures. His mother looks almost like a real person, with those eyes, and his granddad's a hoot. What an amazing, layered story you've got going. I love him almost running over his own younger self, and all the details you put into this ... Wow. What a story. So glad you posted!
Oh, thank you. Thank you, SBW. Really! Getting them through their visit to Pleasantview is more difficult then I thought it would be at first. I was worried about how it would read to others. Looks like they'll be here a little longer than I had planned, too. Just getting decent pictures is harder for some reason which is why there are less of them. I like Granddad, too. I gave a passing thought to having him travel with Errol and Harcourt but decided it would be more characters (and voices) on the road than I could handle.
wow! SBW was right now his mother...kind of scary how real she looks. This is by far your best work so far on this site! Such exciting twists in the story, you've got me on the edge of my seat! Keep writting!
One question: why would I call you pompous? I think you're exactly the opposite of pompous ... Just wondering.
Nice to hear that. Sometimes, after I post a long-winded comment and have logged off and gone to bed I start thinking, "Sheesh, you sure do blather on and on with your opinions. Less is more, and all that." I don't worry about that when I'm telling my stories, however. And I've been playing the game most of the day to set up the next couple of episodes. I set my graphics (except for edge smoothing) to the max for pictures. Backed up my game first because it gets a little jerky with the high settings and, one time, the computer even turned itself without warning..just shut right down. No time to write now, though. Tomorrow is my plan.
