Monday, 26 February 2018

Salvia: The Exile Chapter 3

Chapter 3 “Salvia, I’m sorry it had to come to this. I did try to plead for you. I’ll do all that I can to arrange your exile somewhere pleasant - and to keep it as short as I can.”
Salvia was grateful for the words from Calamintha – but their time alone together was all too short. Rubia came over to take her away. Seen by daylight, what she’d done to Rubia’s garden was pretty striking. And Salvia still had a sneaking bit of pride for the flotilla of ducks. But Rubia was far from happy. “And just what did you think you were doing when you did this?”
“It was just a joke. I didn’t know it was your garden.”
“And to whom did you think it might belong?” “Just some old lady or another,” said Salvia – and then realised that might not have been the most tactful way to put it. For a moment, she thought Rubia was about to strike her. The old woman’s anger was terrifying; almost elemental.
“That’s two. Two of the First Five laws that you have broken. And you don’t even seem to care.” Then Rubia did something that scared Salvia even more than that sudden glimpse of her anger. She gestured with one hand and a glowing symbol appeared on the ground next to them.
“You will go and stand on that. And you will not move from it.” And Salvia had no choice. She’d heard of this, but almost as a legend. You had to be both powerful and skilled to do this! Rubia Peregrina was obviously more than just a bad-tempered old woman. Then she looked round in surprise, for someone else had arrived. “So – you have the little mischief-maker.” He looked round. “She did all this alone? That’s no small feat.”
“She did indeed, Sambucus. Which is why I think she might answer all our purposes.”
“All of them?” He turned to look at Salvia. She tried to look away from him, but there was no evading his gaze. And how come he was so old, and still had his wings? The males were losing theirs even before the females. And how come she’d never seen him before?
“She has a lot of power,” he agreed slowly. He went over and looked at the dragon Salvia had made out of one of Rubia’s trees. “And a sense of humour – though I don’t like the uses she’s put it to. Are we going to dismantle this?” “Yes,” Rubia said. “ She’s left a lot of loose power in this lot – see how much you can collect. Leave those vicious weeds in the middle – she’s going to take those out herself. With her bare hands.” Salvia had to stand and watch as Sambucus carefully undid all the mischief she’d made, and restored the garden to its previous state. She was tired and she was hungry, but she couldn’t move from the spot. The moon was rising by the time Sambucus had restored the garden. He clicked his fingers and the pattern beneath her feet winked out, and she could move again.
“I hope you’re proud of your nasty little piece of mischief,” he snapped.
“It was only meant to be a bit of fun,” Salvia said, trying to placate him.
“For whom?” he asked, and his tone of voice made her wince. He pointed to the house, and she had no choice but to go in. It looked much as she’d expected – classic old-lady’s-cottage: warm enough, comfortable enough, but nothing fancy. “That way,” Sambucus said, and she turned and saw the spiral staircase going down in one corner of the room. The room at the foot of the stairs was a total surprise to her. How could an old lady living in a cottage have all this? Calamintha herself – and she was currently head of the council – could barely match it. “You’ve finished? Good. Now we’ll find out just how much power she really has in her.” Rubia went over to the bookcase, pulled at one of the books, and a panel slid back. Behind it was a small antechamber, with a door that presumably led into another room, all built of a strange grey stone.
“Do you know what this is, Sambucus?” she asked.
He looked over her shoulder and drew in his breath.
“Theta-stone?” She nodded grimly. “Theta-stone. This will draw all the magic from your body, and store it in its walls. I am the Keeper of the Theta-Chamber, and have been for a very long time now. And Salvia here is going to spend the night in the Theta-Chamber. Tomorrow morning, we will see how she is.”
“All night?”
“I think she’s strong enough.” And Salvia had to walk through the secret door, through the door beyond and into the tiny chamber. There was a candle, a pitcher of water with a dipper, and a bucket, but that was all. The door shut behind her, and she was left alone in the cold grey room. What was Theta-stone anyway? She’d never heard of it. Eventually she slept on the cold floor, and woke feeling more tired than she had when she’d fallen asleep. Next morning, Rubia let her out, gave her breakfast, let her wash and then sent Salvia outside to dig up the weeds she made grow in the garden. Salvia did wish she hadn’t been quite so enthusiastic in creating them – and the brambles were vicious! Eventually, the garden was almost restored. Salvia had never felt so tired in her life. No, not tired. More, sort of faded. It wasn’t hunger – Sambucus had brought lunch out to her, and no-one had minded her taking a lunch break. And there was water whenever she wanted it. And then the day ended, and she spent another night in the small grey stone room. The next morning, she needed Sambucus to help her up the stairs. She drooped, exhausted, as he brought her out into the sunlight.
“Is this enough?” he asked. “Should we wait another day or two?” Salvia forced herself to stand upright. Whatever they were planning, it seemed to involve her, for Rubia was saying, “Before long, Calamintha will come looking for her, to arrange her exile. I think it has to be now. I will go down into the Theta Chamber.”
It will kill her, thought Salvia. It’s exhausted me, and I’m young.
“Bring her back down as well. We don’t want anyone coming past and seeing her. And put an illusion on the garden to make it look unfinished.” And Salvia watched Rubia walk through the secret door, into the antechamber, and through into the Theta Chamber itself. She turned to Sambucus.
“Why are you doing this to me? What have I done wrong?”
“You pick on a defenceless old woman? You break at least two of the First Five laws? And you want to know what you have done wrong? All we are doing is justice.”
Salvia would have replied, but just then the bookcase opened up and Rubia came out. But how could this be Rubia? This was no old woman. No girl either, admittedly: she was clearly older than Salvia, but not old, old as Rubia had been.
“We were right about her being strong, Sambucus! Do you think I look young enough to wear colours again?”
She laughed at the look of puzzlement on both their faces.
“The Theta Chamber will drain someone’s power and store it in the stone itself. But the Keeper of the Chamber can draw it out from the stones and take it to herself. I am much older than you think. And we definitely don’t have much time: I can sense that very clearly. We have to finish off the work we need to do on Salvia, and send her into exile before anyone comes to stop us.” Rubia raised a hand, and the last of Salvia’s power was drawn from her. She felt herself falling to the floor while Sambucus looked on unmoved. “Does it have to be her?” Sambucus said, looking down at her crumpled figure on the floor.
“She is our only hope,” Rubia answered. And then the memories faded softly into her mind, and Salvia was back out in the cold and the dark, looking at a little girl trapped in a small space. Salvia had deserved at least a little bit of what had happened to her. Clearing up the weeds had hurt, but she’d put them there in the first place. San hadn’t really done anything wrong. It was all very well for her to tell herself that it wasn’t her fault, but it was San who was paying the price. Bedding at least, Salvia could do something about. She was tall enough – and agile enough – to throw her sleeping bag to San. The child snuggled gratefully into it, not even taking her mask off, she was so tired. Salvia slept in San’s bed that night, over in the sleeping block with the other children. As she made the bed in the morning, she looked round at the little room. Now she knew why the grey walls had bothered her so. This was theta-stone! A whole complex built out of theta-stone. But she didn’t feel drained like she had after sleeping in the Theta Chamber. Her bit of knowledge was raising more questions than it was answering. Had she lost all her magic? Her wings were gone – she could no longer fly. Otherwise, she’d have left as soon as she arrived! And the theta-stone wasn’t affecting her. She went outside to speak to San. “San, I’m sorry,” Salvia said. “This was my fault.”
“No,” San said. “It was very, very naughty. It must go to the naughty place.”
“You weren’t naughty, San. I was cross and I was unfair. This was my fault, San, and I am sorry.” Getting food to San wasn’t a problem – Salvia passed it through the bars to her, ladling it out into a bowl. San looked surprised and pleased.
“San,” Salvia asked cautiously. “When someone is in here, do they normally get fed?”
“No. If it has been naughty, it does not deserve food,” San replied simply. Salvia passed San an apple, and San ate it gratefully. One problem they weren’t going to be able to solve, Salvia reflected, was the hygiene one. She’d looked everywhere, and there were no buckets to be found. I’ve been here three days, she thought, and look at the mess I’ve made already. And I didn’t even make this one on purpose. The next two days were the longest Salvia had ever known. The sight of the other four children going about their routines like little automata made her feel guilty because San wasn’t with them. She spent as much time as she could, chatting to San, asking her questions, trying to find out as much as she could about this strange place. No. Not a place. A prison. Why were these children here? Why was she here, come to that? The days passed, the gates moved, and San was free again. Salvia bathed her, changed her very smelly clothes – and washed the sleeping bag! Looking after the children was so difficult! She wasn’t even managing to get breakfast ready in time for them all before they trooped off to school. San had told her about school – they were collected in a special vehicle, came home in it, and were taught in a room by themselves.
“So why go, if you’re not allowed to mix with anyone?”
“This world has rules. Rules for children. Children must go to school.”
This world has rules, Salvia thought, as she ate her breakfast. So this is a different world. But how can I find out anything about it from inside here?
As she went round the two buildings, cleaning, tidying, making beds and planning the next meal, Salvia thought hard about what she now knew.
She was, most likely, somewhere else altogether. But how could she find out if that was true?
The children had been here from very young? Why?
They had been looked after – by The Roku. But that had been different people - and most of them hadn’t lasted long. Why not? – and that was a bit of a worrying question!
There was enough food, and San said more would be delivered, when the washing was collected and the clean clothes returned. The children were sent to school. This world had rules about their well-being. But they were totally unloved. Why?
They never took their masks off. Salvia had asked them, why not? We can’t, San had told her. And when she looked, the masks were indeed fused to their faces in some strange way. Salvia walked across the yard to the sleeping quarters, the questions buzzing around in her head. All she could see above the walls was sky, and huge boulders. Where was she? The dark patterns on her arms caught her eye again. Where had they come from? What did they mean? Why were they there?
And then her memory stirred into life again.

Sunday, 25 February 2018

The Hutchins and Mojica Renovacy Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Breaking Ground

This is Mmdrgntobldrgn's renovacy - the link to the back story is here:
http://mamadragonssims.weebly.com/renovation-challenges/hutchins-and-mojica-renovation-challenge
And the download for the lot is here:
https://www.thesims3.com/assetDetail.html?assetId=9190694

“I can’t believe there’s only two small children at home now and all the others are at school.” Regina was posting again.
“This is Henrietta and Charlie, the youngest two, and twins like Desmond and Uiara. Like my sister and me too, except they’re not identical. There’s a few basic differences!” She had a handful of followers still, but not enough to be earning any money from the blog. “I do wish things would stop breaking!” Regina thought. This was not going to be a post for the blog. They’d extended the toilet hut, moved the bath in there and turned it into a bathroom so that they could fit the beds into the house, but there was still no sink in the kitchen and still no money to extend the house. Which was what they really needed to do. She – and the twins – were still sleeping in the kitchen. And the other room was now crammed with bunk beds and their one bookshelf, with its handful of second-hand books and Regina’s complimentary copy of her cookery book. That all seemed so long ago now…
“I could write a really good cookery book now if I had the time. All about how to use fresh ingredients economically.” But spare time was as rare as spare money in Regina’s hectic life. Viriato still felt permanently exhausted, even though he was no longer looking after two small children. He’d come home from school, fall asleep, wake up and try to do his homework and then fall asleep again. He didn’t know that buried grief would do this to you, and he held himself so stiffly aloof from everyone else that no-one had a chance to talk to him.
He’d finally dragged his school grades up to a B, but he could see that he’d only be able to find a part-time job when he left school. His dream of being able to support the rest of the family on his own – and of kicking out Regina – was fading fast. “I must get a photo of you all!”
That garage sale had also yielded second-hand school clothes. The school had a uniform, but weren’t too bothered if people didn’t wear it; most parents went for it because it saved the what-shall-I-wear-today arguments. But up till now, they’d never had the money for the clothes.
“After all, there’s only this year when you’ll all be in the same school together. Next year, Uiara and Desmond will be joining Viriato. And we’ll save their uniform for when Charlie and Henrietta need it.”
“Good job we’re a boy-and-girl twin like them, then,” Uiara said laughing, and moving into the group. Her new hairstyle was making a difference to the way she felt about herself, and she liked the uniform too. Another year went by – autumn into winter, spring, summer, autumn and now winter again. Regina was running out of original things to post and began to get a little – just a little! – more personal.
“There were two red-headed girls out in the snow earlier, making this snowman.” She made sure that the Christmas garland – their one decoration! – could be seen through the window. Everyone would assume the whole room looked festive.
“They reminded me of Aurora and myself when we were young, and snow was magical and new each year.”
To her surprise, people started responding. In the winter, the library put board games out for people to come and play. And the library was warm! They went there a lot at the weekends.
Regina frowned at the dominoes in her hand. From the look on Tesni’s face, she had an amazing hand and was going to win. Again. Eugenio preferred the painting sessions at the art gallery. It was a bit soon to say whether he had any talent, but he did enjoy it. The older three tended to go and read downstairs. Desmond’s reading matter always featured horses! Viriato on the other hand was still trying to catch up with the school work he just didn’t understand. He’d be graduating very soon now and his school grades still weren’t good enough. “What are you writing?” Uiara had come up behind Regina to say that she’d go over to the art gallery and pick Eugenio up.
“Oh – my blog,” Regina said, unwilling to shut Uiara out by refusing to tell her. Uiara rad a few lines over her shoulder.
“You’re writing about Aurora. About my mother when she was little.” She paused for a moment. “Will you tell me some of the stories?” Early spring, and still chilly enough to make a fire welcome. Regina had risen early, lit the fire, made the pancakes: it was a hot breakfast day, she thought.
“Thanks,” Uiara said, coming to sit next to her. A tentative friendship was growing between the two of them, based mainly on Regina’s stories about Aurora when they were both children together. “These are great, Aunt Regina,” Desmond said, grinning.
Viriato said nothing. He didn’t like the change in the relationship between Uiara and Regina – and where Uiara led, Desmond would follow. And as for the younger ones – they’d been totally corrupted.
“Reggie’s made pancakes,” Tesni called out to the children still in the bedroom. “Bags I the last seat too.” “This sink is beyond a joke,” Regina thought, attacking it yet again, and getting soaked by it yet again. “Next bit of money we’ve got, we’re having a sink for the kitchen.”
But at least she wasn’t standing among vicious brambles any more. Three teenagers instead of one working on the land had made a big difference – the brambles were cleared, new fencing was up and painted. And their crops should do better too with more care and attention. The sink fixed, she picked up the dirty dishes ready to wash them. On the mantelpiece above the fire, little seedlings were growing, ready to plant out later when the last of the frosts had passed. This year, maybe, they might make some progress instead of only just managing to stay afloat. The foundations were in for extending the back of the house and making two bedrooms – one for the girls and one for the boys, which would be a step forward. “And maybe I’ll get my own room when I go into a retirement home,” Regina thought wryly. “Still, better late than never.” They’d managed to clean up and paint the walls in the kitchen, but life still seemed to be a battle for cleanliness and order. Without small children to look after though, Regina found that she had more time and energy for the fight. Desmond was heading purposefully off towards the garden – gardening first, homework second but, unlike Viriato, he was managing to do both. Uiara was pausing to reveal her plans to Regina.
“Things that cost nothing – I thought that we could move those bushes, clear up at the front of the house. I’ve found someone – Fawn’s dad – who’ll cut down those dead trees, cart off the wood and even pay us a little for them. Then maybe we could fence off some more ground, keep the deer at bay. Then…”
“That’s great, Uiara. Go with all of it! Whatever you want to try – we can’t make the place any worse, can we?” And they smiled at each other, two women on a mission together. “Falafel.” Another week, another post. Regina was alternating between factual and slightly more reflective, usually about her and Aurora when they were children, and the contrast with this family’s childhood. Uiara liked it when she came up with new stories for her to hear.
“One of the children asked me to make something new, so I did.”
The ‘one of the children’ had been Uiara – who’d also asked if Regina would teach her and Desmond how to cook. Viriato had looked on helpless as the twins had quite happily spent a couple of hours in the kitchen with Regina. Three teens working on the garden and their income was going up a bit. Enough to alter the house! The extension had been built, and now there were three beds only (and Uiara’s Prom Queen crown) in the room, and the three girls were discovering the pleasure of a girls-only space. After sharing with four other people for so long, it didn’t occur to them to complain about having to share a room for three. And finally – before she reached the old people’s home! – Regina had her own tiny slip of a bedroom, complete with one of Eugenio’s early paintings to go on the wall. She had been thinking of making this little room into another bathroom, but Uiara had been adamant.
“You need a bedroom. You’ve slept in the kitchen for long enough.”
And Regina had given in to her determined niece, gratefully and gracefully. The other bedroom had four bunk beds in it, and no girls! Three boys and one soon-to-be man instead. Viriato was finished with school and now he was graduating. He’d just scraped his grades high enough, but never made it onto the honour roll, unlike most of the rest of the family, who seemed to be permanently there. The outside of the house was looking slightly better too, Regina thought, glancing back at it as they all piled into a taxi to go to Viriato’s graduation. Neater, for one thing, and the vegetable garden and the orchard at the back were thriving. They were, finally, beginning to make some progress, a few small steps towards a less poverty-stricken existence. He was graduating. He had finished school. Viriato looked over at Tesni in her hand-me-down best dress, his youngest sister, and felt like he’d failed her. Failed her because there was no way he could make a home, a life, for the five of them on his own.
Charlie and Henrietta stood next to Viriato, puzzled as to why he’d shrugged off their congratulations, their excitement at his achievements. Charlie in particular was hurt – he’d always looked up to Viriato, admired him since he’d been a toddler and Viriato the oldest and wisest brother.
Desmond wasn’t too happy either, as he watched Viriato stride purposefully towards the doors that led to his future. Desmond was by no means sure that Viriato was heading the right way, becoming the man Aurora and Lincoln would have wanted him to become