D'Emerillon Castle Renovacy

D’Emerillon Castle Renovacy Yep. That is a pretty good view, isn’t it? There’s a town down in the valley as well. With civilised things like shops, and warm places like libraries in it. And gyms. And schools as well, I guess, though I’m not quite so keen on those. They’re okay though. This is me. Jessamine Merrion, to give me my full name, wished on to me by an over-romantic mother, but if you call me anything except Jess we will seriously not be friends. I look just like my dad, except that I’ve got my mum’s eyes.
Where’s my dad? He died before I was even born – before he even knew I’d been conceived. Biking over to see my mum, and he got into an argument with a truck. And lost. They were both only just sixteen and hopelessly in love.
Then when Mum was nineteen, she met and married my stepfather. He was great. Blond, like Mum, so everyone thought I was adopted. Which I was in a way – he adopted me. I really loved him. And this is my little brother, Paul. Paul du Pascal Merrion, to give him his full name. Named after his dad…the trouble with marrying a reservist is that they get called up. Mum was seven-and-a-half months pregnant when she got the news of the explosion, the deaths. Paul was a premature baby: the shock of the news sent her into labour early.
And everything was different after that. Mum took a while to get over the birth alone, and we stayed with her parents for some time. Didn’t work though – the house was small and they were set in their ways. As soon as she could cope with the basics, we moved out.
And Mum sort of retreated into a fantasy world of her own. It was like this twenty-first century world was too much for her. Which is why I’m standing on top of a hill, admiring the view. In one direction, at least. Because this is the view in the other direction. D’Emerillon Castle. The very ruined D’Emerillon Castle. And the owner of it, one Paul du Pascal Merrion is standing here in front of me, telling me what fun it’s going to be, living in a real castle. Okay, I sort of get his point. What little boy wouldn’t want to live in a castle? I wouldn’t even mind doing so myself – if it had little things like roofs and so on. Paul’s hoping there are fish in this remains of a moat. I’m hoping it doesn’t flood. Though the fish might be useful to eat, I guess. “If you must cross this bridge, I want you to be really careful, Paul. Promise me. Falling in the moat won’t be funny. And I might not be here to pull you out.”
“Why not? You’re not going to leave are you?”
“No!” Paul has this weird thing about people leaving. “But I’m going to need to get a part-time job. If we want to eat, that is.”
There should have been a pension. There is a pension. But it’s all going on paying off the loans that got taken out while Paul was such a poorly little baby. We don’t actually have any real income. “But Mum’s going to earn money. Playing her guitar for tips.”
Ouch. Okay, our mum has a guitar, but I don’t think she’s learnt to play it beyond two chords. And she’s as short-sighted as Paul, but won’t get glasses because they aren’t romantic or historical, so she’s quite likely to end up playing to a lamp-post and a fire hydrant under the impression that they’re an audience. “Listen! I’ve got it in tune now.” Which she had. Nothing wrong with her ear.
This is my mother. Yolanda. She’s been trying to live up to her romantic and historical name just about all of her life – she’d have me in historical costume given half a chance. Paul doesn’t mind dressing up as a knight or a pirate or whatever, but me, I want to look like a normal human being, thank you very much.
Don’t get me wrong: she loves us, and we love her. She keeps Paul clean (I can do that for myself!). Mostly we’re fed just fine. There’s the odd beans-on-toast week, but we’re not underfed at all. But I have to be the practical one. And I got out-voted on this moving-to-a-castle lark. Moving to a Ruined Castle Lark! I did suggest knocking it down and using the stone to build a proper house. No. The castle is an official Ancient Ruin. Not a stone of these walls can be moved. We can build on to it – in more or less any style we like. We just can’t knock any of it down. Well, the half-height walls we can, obviously, so as to be able to build them up to a proper height safely, but not the full height walls. This is going to make things complicated…

Special rules for this one:
Jess can have a part-time job.
Yolanda can busk for money, but she can’t join the musician’s career.
All full-height stone walls have to remain, but you can put doors and windows in wherever you like.

Link here: https://www.thesims3.com/assetDetail.html?assetId=9432368