Ash Theres no way Im putting this down in print where anyone might read it. Ive blown it. This is how it went. I went down to the roller rink to see what the place was like, and, yeah, I thought I might take a turn or two around the floor to see if I could stay upright, cos I thought it might be a fun place to take Brighton. Only Brighton was already there. And she was with that Giza fella who owns the junkyard. Until now I thought I wasnt the jealous type. But, well, he was flirting with her outrageously and she seemed oblivious; could she be that innocent? She puts herself over as quite worldly but Im not so sure . And besides the big galoot was wearing the most old-fashioned, heavy-weight, woollen suit I ever saw. Part of me was aghast that she could bear to spend time with him, while another part just thought how terrific she is to spare him some of her time. I just watched and watched and, although I tried hard not to, I just got crosser and madder. If Id only had the idea I couldve asked her to come with me and we wouldve been having fun together. Asterisking Maxoids! Why am I such a total doofus? I just sat there, fuming and what was worse I could see she hadnt even noticed I was in the building. I kept getting up and moving to a different spot with the stupid idea that she would see me and come rushing over to invite me to join them as if! Then, before I knew how it had happened, I became acutely aware of the fact that she had seen me. Worse than that (if worse than that is possible) I quickly realised that she could see I was shall we say: annoyed. It did not take long for me to realise there wasnt the slightest chance of her coming over to ask me to join them. I could tell she was pretending to be unaware I was there. I spent the next half an hour going through agonies of indecision. I just wanted to make things better but I couldnt work out how. I also wanted to cut Bill out of the equation becausecurse my slownessI really like Brighton and I fear I have left it too late to make my feeling clear. After much too much abstracted internal wrangling I leapt to my feet and to action. I marched, too smartly, across the room and managed to put myself right in front of Bill, almost nose to nose and in a hoarsely hissed whisper, I said, I hope you know that lady is spoken for. I cant believe I did that. What was I thinking? As soon as I had said my piece I regretted it. I could see, by the curiously blank expression on Gizas face that my outburst was as unexpected as it was unwelcome. Inside my head, floodgates burst open and a tidal surge of potentially self-effacing excuses presented themselves for my potential use in self-preservation. They flowed over me like Katrina passing over New Orleans. In a blind funk, I turned and fled home. I am supposed to be wining and dining that girl tonight. What the asterisk am I supposed to do? Pretend nothing happened? Maybe I could start a rumour about an evil twin . I am so dead.
LOL Lynet! I'm the same - actually, beards/ moustaches positively creep me out though I don't mind a lil bit of facial hair on the sims (and on Josh Holloway of course ) Mirelly, I'm loving your story a lot! I like your humour. I prefer to read it here though as I can follow it in the proper order and I know where I've read up to. On the blog page, I agree that it's not as easy to follow.
LOL in 3 or 4 directions. I also hate male facial hair in real life, but facial hair for a (male) sim is the only thing that makes the poor chap look grown up. Likewise make up for female sims ... a bit of lippy and some eye-shadow can make a huge difference both to the recognisability as well to the characterisation. Second I just Googled Josh Holloway (but I'm claiming seniority [waaa me want dibs now!!!] ). Third ... I'm just trine to pressurise our own Josh into action .... if I get too far into PVS I'll be too idle to transfer it
Ha! Sorry but I'm claiming ownership. Possession is 9/10ths of the law and all that. LOL Welcome to the Josh H fan club though. Now all ya need to do is watch the entire season 1 and 2 of LOST and get the full flavour of the man, southern drawl and all. :drool: As for our own Josh, hand him some bug spray for the bugs in the coding or w/e, put on your best lippy and smile sweetly, and offer him a Coldstone's ice cream. That ought to do it.
Dea Vox Vocis Oh, my! Brighton hissed as she peered around the curtains at the red saloon car pulling up by the mailbox. Hes here. She could hardly believe that Ash had arrived. All day she had waited, expecting a call at any moment: a call to say that he was cancelling their date. All day she had toyed with the notion of getting in first and crying off before she could be dumped. Except.... Except, why should she? She had done nothing wrong. The door bell rang and she heard Sharla scamper down the hall to answer the door. The Ottomas middle child and only daughter was practically a teenager, but her child-like exuberance was still in evidence from her incredibly noisy footfalls (was it really necessary to stamp each step with such authority?) Sharlas complete lack of adult sensibilities was even more obvious in her raucous screech from beside the front door. Brighton! Your dates here. Brighton winced. For all the childs gaucheness, there was a particular edge to the way she had dipped and then raised her tone as she stretched out the word, here. Childish, or not, Sharla had a fine grasp of the sardonic. Or maybe she was just relishing the chance to tell tales on her former teacher when Monday came around. Dreading the encounter, but helpless to avoid it, she came out of her ground floor room and, rounding the foot of the stairs, she saw Ash, holding a small posy of roses, and shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another as he studied the toes of his shoes. Hello. She said. Ash twitched as if he had received a sharp static shock. He grinned at her and held out the flowers. Brighton walked forward but, pointedly, kept her arms at her sides. Say something, then. I, um. I mean, er well, I was a bit stupid the other day . A bit ? Ooh, look at him squirm! OK, a lot stupid. Thats me. Half stupid, half dumb, half idiot, half not good at maths. Half thief, too. Eh? Ive heard that half not good at maths line before. Ouch. He lowered the bunch of flowers to his hip. It was a sad, resigned sort of negative gesture. I guess youre still pretty mad and unimpressed with me, huh? Still ? In spite of herself, Brighton was the who winced when she saw how hard her barb had struck. Well maybe I can find forget Yes? Ashs face brightened a smidgeon and the hand bearing the flowers twitched, Brighton couldnt help noticing, as though it were straining at the leash for a chance to pass on the floral tribute. youre a huge arse, on one condition. Anything, you just name it. A simple explanation will do. Youve got a deal. He looked happier. Maybe I can try to explain more over dinner? Suddenly, they were both aware of Sharlas ill-concealed presence behind the kitchen door at the end of the hall. At that moment, the easy chemistry, which had so strongly shaped their earlier encounters, kicked in and they grinned sheepishly at each other and without further prompting they reached a silent agreement to continue their discussion in private.
Love it, Mirelly! You make it seem so real! And just for the record, I agree regarding Sims Male Facial Hair...There's just somthing about it...Meeeow!
The Journal of Brighton Mayes I am very tired, but I am also happy, so thats all right. It is almost midnight and tomorrow is Monday and I have to be in school for 8. Ill probably look like a zombie. Oh well, never mind. I must just take a few minutes to write down all thats happened since Ash picked me up on Saturday afternoon. Hed come in his car, he explained, because he wanted to go for a drive with me. We drove out on Bridge, over the river and on up the valley. Id not got around to going out that way before. It gets wild really quick and it was so pretty because the trees are changing colour and every other bend in the road brought us out of the trees to a magnificent view of the Penn River which just keeps getting narrower and steeper and whiter, foamier, the higher you get. Sadly, we had to turn back before we got high enough up to see Penns Peak poking up through the clouds. It was dark when we got back to his place and I got nervous all over again, for no reason I could think of. He led me in and sat me at the kitchen table with a glass of Chablis, while he went about the gruesome business of dismembering a pair of bright red lobsters. In no time at all the meat was piled in a bowl and the tail shells were washed and ready. Id been looking forward to seeing him cook, but instead he opened the fridge and brought out a bowl of bchamel sauce that hed made he said earlier. In no time at all the dish was in the oven and he looked at his watched, poured himself a glass of wine and said, right, then. Ive just got time to give you my excuse. I smiled back at him. Well youve had plenty of time to think of one. Meanie! I havent given the matter of an excuse a moments thought, at all, actually. Oh? Nope. It was plain and simple jealousy. I walked in the roller rink and there you were. Well that was fine. Then I saw him with you enjoying himself and I just got mad. Nutso. Crazy as a moth in a room full of candles. Everything I tried to do to stop me thinking about you and him having fun together just reminded me that if I wasnt such a total lame-brain I mightve thought of asking you to come skating with me. All that did, was make me madder than ever. He waited, watching me for a few moments. I was holding my wine glass, swirling the pale straw-coloured liquid, and my head was bent so that my hair covered my eyes. Well, I heard him say. You did say a simple explanation would be enough am I forgiven? Pretty please . I dont know, I said. Im trying real hard to get over this, because, so help me, I really like you. Youre funny, youre very considerate, youre not so full of yourself that you cant listen to someone else youre good at not interrupting is what I mean. But jealousy. Man, I cant hack that. I am trying to feel flattered but all I keep getting is bad vibes. I looked up at him to see, perhaps, if I could, what was behind his eyes. I saw sadness looking back at me. Im not really like that . I know thats easy to just say. What happened the other day was as much a surprise to me as it must have been for you. He drained his glass and set it down with exaggerated care. Then he fixed me with his eyes. I know I called it jealousy but maybe it wasnt that so much as a temper tantrum with myself because I thought Id lost my chance to be with you. He picked up the wine bottle and studied the label as though it contained the secrets of the universe and hed forgotten how to read. He replaced it carefully before speaking again. You see, I havent been able to get you out of my head since last weekend. Nor me, I said almost without thinking. He looked at me sharply. Really? Truly and honestly. Can I kiss you? OK, what do you think I said, diary. Im totally stupid. It was only a peck because the oven timer pinged and he had to get the lobsters. They were delicious. We took our time over the food, flirting and chatting and feeding each other. Then it got very late and I was suddenly wondering if I really wanted to go home to my digs alone. I didnt want to appear presumptuous (or licentious for that matter) by seeming to assume I was staying. On the other hand I didnt want to burn my boats by asking to be taken home in case he took me. Harlot! In the end he solved the dilemma for me. We were snuggled together on his sofa, some logs were crackling in his fireplace and an old movie was just finishing on the TV. Wow, doesnt time fly when youre enjoying yourself, he said, stretching and making some very worrying crackles and pops in his spine. I spose I ought to think about getting you back home. He had sat forward and he turned to look over his shoulder. His eyes were full of boyish mischief. They were saying: thats all the offer youre gonna get, girl. Bless him he was making this easy, whichever way I wanted to play it. I love games like that. Well, I dont have to go yet, I responded, with my own brand of impishness. Do I? I saw his face try to stay fixed as his brain quickly worked through all the possible meanings. Maybe Ill just forget and have to take you home in the morning then, he said trying to sound off-hand. I stood up and grabbed him by the wrist. Just take me to bed, you big idiot. All I really need to add before I close, is that we had Sunday breakfast in bed and that we really did finish eating it before sunset but only just. Am I ashamed of myself? You're darn tooting, I'm not!
The Journal of Brighton Mayes My heavens! I cant believe how time has flown. It hardly seems like five minutes since I arrived here late last August, and now its nearly spring! Ever since Ash and I became lovers weve been, well, do I have to spell it out, diary? Actually the winter was a bit dull, weather wise. I like to see a decent fall of snow, the sort that sticks around for a month or three, the sort that attracts regular top-ups every week or so to help keep it fresh and white looking. What did we get? Cold winds mostly. We did have a few snow showers, but they fizzled out before it got around to looking much worse than a hard frost. The midwinter holiday was a bit dismal as a result. Were neither of us religious all that Mirelly mumbo jumbo is all just hogwash as far were concerned but we swapped gifts anyway on Simday because giving, and getting, of course, is fun. Ash got me some gorgeous lingerie and I bought him a spiffy hat and gloves, which came into their own sooner than we expected. The next day we woke to find Penn Vale buried under at least a foot of snow. Honestly! We were like two kids. Running around the back garden like demented puppies, we were. Chasing each other trying to dump handfuls of snow down the others neck, throwing ourselves into the drifts that had formed along the fence before settling down to some serious snowball throwing, snow angel making and, for an encore, the ritual building of a snowman. It made a really perfect end to what had been a perfect year and it was a pity we had to go back to work the next day. It wasnt long after that I started chucking up my breakfast almost as soon as Id eaten it. Silly Ash caught me coming out of the downstairs toilet and, like he does, he grabbed me for a quick kiss. Ew. He asked if Id been sick and I nodded. Shall I call out the doctor? he asked, all stricken and worried looking. It wasnt that leftover spaghetti, was it? I grinned my best grin at him. You might want to wait around thirty eight weeks before calling the doctor. Eh? It was so funny. His face worked through about ninety nine expressions and then he looked at me and said: Your? There was no ellipsis, I swear it. I nodded at him encouragingly. Yes, I am, I said. And I hope youre happy about it, because I am. He looked at me with eyes full of wonder and tenderness. I can hardly believe how much I love him, but if its possible I loved him even more at that moment. Do you want to sit down? He said eventually. No, I laughed. But maybe you ought to. You look like you need a rest. I dont do I? He pulled me close to him and kissed me again. I tried to pull away. No, I stink I dont care, I love you and I love our baby and I want us to get married and I want to know why we are married already and Whoa! Slow down. The only reason were not married already is because you never got around to proposing. I might be fairly liberal in most respects but Im old-fashioned enough to want to leave some things to tradition. He pulled back sharply and for a brief moment I thought I had said something to upset him. He clasped my shoulders and looked me sternly in the eye. Just stand there and dont move, he said before spinning on his heels and disappearing up the stairs. Seconds later he was charging back down them, taking them at least 4 at a time. Its a wonder he didnt fall and break his neck. He skidded to a stop in front of me. Drop to one knee and opened his hand to reveal a small black box. My darling, Brighton, light of my life, I want us to spend the rest of lives together. Please say you will marry me. The rock on the ring was enormous, but I wouldve said yes if it had been a bit of glass. Were planning a quiet wedding for next week, the first day of Spring. We decided on a very quiet affair because we neither of us have any relatives who would be likely to attend. Ash says that well grow our own dynasty. I like that idea. Anyway, dear diary, this is goodbye from me, Brighton Mayes. The next time I see you I'll be Mrs. Ash Mallory ... yes, Brighton Mallory has nice ring to it.
Yeah ... I think I've given him super powers by mistake. Seriously, though, I kinda hoped that we could take it as read that she had thoroughly rinsed and gargled before leaving the bathroom ... and I don't suppose there are many folks who keep extra toohtbrushes and mouthwash in the downstairs loo ... Honestly Lynet! Can't take you anywhere I have it on complete authority, from Brighton herself, that her breath was no more sour than a posseting baby's (hmm ... are there two ts in possetting ... no that's never right, either. I'd know if I'd actually read any baby books ... ) BTW In keeping with my simiverse theme, I nearly had them watching I-Sim as the late-late old movie ... I expect it was in B&W? PPS. You might've noticed that I sped them up to the wedding cos I've gotten impatient to play again. I've been having fun writing somewhat on the fly the last few days. Brighton's been pregnant since Last weekend (10 days ago). I've only played to gather photo's that I didn't have in store. I avoided playing the Ottomas house, where Brighton lives, to prevent her belly growing, but I missed getting a pic of the proposal and regret, now, not going back for a retake. Still .... One thing I am full of admiration for your stories. You have actual plots that start at a beginning and go to an end via a middle and all your stars are in costume. I still haven't worked out how you got a pic of Ironsides jumping out of a window ....
It was the "Ew" word. As for Ironsides' fall, someday I'll have to do a thread on how I stage some of my pictures. MoveObjects is, of course, is the cheat I rely on most. Thanks, about my stories with plots. I never plan much in advance. I write myself into corners and then have to figure a way out of the situation. This leads to some pretty wild twists. I appreciate all the freedom that I have here at Worldsims to get as crazy as I like with these adventures (keeping it clean, of course .) So I end up with Errol going through mirrors in his basement and traveling the simiverse. I hope I tie up all loose ends. I worry about that sometimes. I did, for instance, leave a pregnant robot on the moon. I don't know yet what she gave birth to.
LOL ... the Ew, of course was in Brighton's mind. Ash is far to much of gent to complain ... no he just comes right out and asks "mm ... so you've been technicolor yawning down the big white trombone, then?" Funny that ... I never realised he was an Aussie before now Someone come around here and stop me. I'm downloading again ... I think I've melted MTS2
Now I am puzzled by: Since a normal pregnancy is 40 weeks from the beginning of the last period, most moms, who wait for the first missed period, only have to wait 36 weeks. On the other hand, by the law of averages, half of all babies will be over term. If you ask me I don't think doctors know a blind thing ... /me ducks in case Kat poke her head around the corner and notices I'm talking on her subject On the other hand ... Hugz!!
You know, I was going to ask you the other day if you were "nesting." Do you have something to share with us? Or just general TTC woes? And Mirelly; I'm loving this story! I keep checking your blog to see the pictures!
Wonderful story. I know what you mean about being impatient! Their lives go so fast ... from not in love to in love, to pregnant, and from baby to toddler like that ... I smell a new legacy brewing.
So happy for the lovely couple! And I love your take on the Sim Universe, Mirelly! ("...all that Mirelly mumbo jumbo" indeed!) So glad you're back and writing again!
