Chapter 23: The Making of Anastasia Barrister

ANASTASIA

“You will hold that sword for another hour before you scrub the privies.” Mother Applebyne’s voice echoed off the rafters. She preferred Ana’s punishments to occur in the chapel because it was supposed to engender reverence.

The only thing it actually engendered was Ana’s annoyance. The privies? Again? Didn’t anyone else in this llama-forsaken place get punished?

“You have the devil in you,” the old nun chastized. “That’s why you never learn.”

It was a statement too ridiculous to be true. If the Good Order Monks wanted to modify Ana’s behavior, they needed to offer something better than extra gruel and quiet prayer time. The devil? Please. Ana would be glad to meet him. Maybe she could trade her soul for a decent bowl of stew.

Mother Applebyne continued watching, occasionally checking a silver pocket watch. It seemed a bit ostentatious for a place that left the orphans in rags because it brought them closer to the Great Llama in the sky. Ana brought it up once and received a backhand so hard that stars exploded before her eyes.

“Fifteen more minutes, and you will beat your record,” the nun informed her. “Or you’ll fail and prove you’re the weakest of this year’s class.”

Ana gritted her teeth and adjusted her grip. She would not drop the sword, and one day, she’d shove that pocket watch down Mother Applebyne’s throat.

---

“You never cry.”

Ana’s eyes flew open. Her arms were numb, and she’d lost all track of time. Surruptisouly, she checked to make sure she was still holding the sword.

“Did you hear me?” the nun demanded.

Loud and clear. But it wasn’t a real question. Or rather, not a question that Ana could answer. Had she cried as a baby? Likely. But it wasn’t a thing she was capable of now. For Ana, crying was a great divide. On one side, a vast blankness, and on the other, a jumble of physical sensations she couldn’t understand.

Ana preferred the vast blankness.

Mother Applebyne narrowed her eyes. “How many times must I repeat myself? Is it true, Anastasia? Do you only cry on camera?” 

ANASTASIA

Anastasia reared back in surprise. “What did you say?”

Brytani sighed. “Sims InTouch says inside sources confirm you can only cry on camera because you’re a robot.”

Ana stared blankly. She was rarely caught off guard, but lately, she’d begun to drift. In fact, she couldn’t help sneaking a glance behind to ensure that she was in her agent’s office and not the Good Order Monks’ chapel. “Is that an actual question?”

“No, it’s not a real question! Are you high?” Brytani slammed her pen down on top of the magazine. Anastasia was pleased to see that they at least got a good photo of her for the cover, but she could tell her agent was less than enthused.

“Obviously, you’re not a robot, but the point is, you don’t give audiences anything to work with. You’re not vulnerable or approachable.”

“They voted me Sim Nation’s Sweetest Actress,” Anastasia argued.

“That was over a year ago, which might as well be a century in this town. Seriously, Anastasia, you don’t even have a Sims Tok account!”

And she never would. No vampire in their right mind would have social media. “I show up to events, sign autographs, take pictures like a good little soldier. I like my privacy.”

“Exactly! Everything is sanctioned by the studio! Everything is staged. Fuck. It’s like you graduated from acting school in 1950.”

Actually, Ana took her first acting class in 1850, and she trained under the best. Watching all of these children run around whining about not doing their own stunts was infuriating. None of them had ever performed a monologue while wearing paper-mache fairy wings and hanging from a rope tied around a rotting rafter, and it showed. She took a deep breath. “If this is about doing another event—“

Brytani immediately cut her off. “This is not about another press event.” She slid her phone across the desk and pointed at Vanessa Jeong’s Social Bunny account. “Media darlings share makeup-free selfies and get photographed hanging out with friends. What about that girlfriend of yours? Penny? Why not bring her out and actually get photographed having a life for once?”

Ana was on her feet and looming over the desk in seconds. “Fuck no.” Her claws sank into the glass. When Brytani left comedy to become an agent, Anastasia was her first client. They never talked about Ana’s eccentricities. Brytani was too desperate for a paycheck, and Ana was not in the business of taking mortals into her confidence like her ex-husband. But she always wondered if Brytani knew.

Her gaze focused on Ana’s claws and then flicked back up to Ana’s face. “Okay,” she said carefully, “ I can see that’s a non-starter.”

Ana forced herself to calm down, retracted her claws, and stepped back.

“Give me something to work with,” Brytani said softly, “Or you’re going to lose this part.” 

That part was so vital to Ana that it made her dizzy. The Sheriff of Alpha Centaura was her swan song. Every vampire had to bid adieu to their personas; she’d kept hers longer than most. Longer than was safe—or sane. Soon, she’d have to retire to a country home and become an exiled senior citizen like Vladislaus. 

But not without her swan song.

Ana smoothed her skirt and squared her shoulders. “I’ll give you something.”

“Good. And a new PA is waiting for you to interview her in the green room. The studio sent her over. They think a personal assistant can help you organize your schedule.”

“You mean free me up to be photographed acting like a not-a-robot.”

“Exactly.”

ANASTASIA

“Fuck you Vladislaus!” Ana pressed her back into an old plank, trying to use the nail to tear her ropes.

Vladislaus was settled comfortably in a coffin with a glass of nectar. He barely looked up from his book. “That would be a feat in the state you’re in.” 

Bastard. Twisting to her side, she worked harder at breaking her ropes. She might’ve slept with him. She might even have made the mistake of asking for his help. But now she understood what a piece of shit he was. The Good Order Monks were right to hunt him. “I will not stay here!” she whispered to herself. 

She finally weakened her bindings enough to slip free, but she wanted the element of surprise. It was her best bet against him because, in addition to being liars and absolute pieces of shit, vampires were strong. She stood up, clutching at her ropes to give the illusion of still being tied up.

“Off for a midnight stroll?” Vladislaus sipped his nectar and turned another page. He was mocking her, which was a good sign. Ana did her best work when she was underestimated.

She smiled pleasantly and then took a running leap intending to crash through the window beside him. She was aloft briefly, and then Vladislaus’s forearm brought her to the floor. The sheer force with which she hit the ground winded her. She panicked, trying to suck in more air even as her brain told her she didn’t need it. 

“If it were up to me, we would drain every villager in this occult-forsaken hellhole. But then where would we eat and rest when the sun comes up and lights your pretty little skin on fire? Besides, I would like to finish my book before sims show up with pitchforks.“

Ana didn’t give a fuck about villagers or pitchforks. She fought when Vladislaus knelt and tipped a flask to her lips. “You’re thirsty,” he soothed, “And it’s making you foul-tempered. Drink.”

She ignored the way the warm liquid tasted when it hit her tongue. Screwing up her courage, she momentarily held it in her mouth and spat it back in his face. 

“I said I don’t want any blood.”

Vladislaus, the devil that he was, stood and grinned. “Not only do you want it. You need it. You’re weak, Anastasia. An infant could knock you over at this rate.”

“I’m not!” Pressing her advantage, she swung at him. She missed by a mile and swayed on her feet. “You idiot! I don’t need blood! I…I need food!” But even as she said it, the smell of it splattered on the ground made her stomach want to curl in on itself with hunger.  

She did want it. Llamas help her; she would die without it. 

Anastasia called on the last of her strength. As a mortal, she’d been a damn good fighter, and now, she used those skills to tackle Vladuslaus to the ground. She shoved his head to the side and sank her fangs into his neck. 

The blood was strange-tasting. Not as satisfying as whatever was in the flask, but it would do. Eventually, she started feeling full. Her awareness returned, and with it, white-hot shame. Ana flung herself away from him, crouching and hissing. The smug look on his face as he rose to his feet confirmed her worst suspicions. 

He let her tackle him so that she’d eat.

Bastard. Next time, she wouldn’t make that mistake. Next time she’d—

“Next time, you’ll drink,” he didn’t bother wiping the blood off his face as he climbed back into the coffin, repositioning his long limbs. He took up his book and nectar again. “And you’ll drink the time after that, too. You’re a vampire, Anastasia. And if you’re going to master your occult energy, you need sustenance.”

“But I don’t want to be! I want…I want…” she fumbled with her words, embarrassment scalding her. She’d never felt so exposed, so broken.

Vladislaus rolled his eyes. “We have been over this. Countless times, in fact. Welcome to being a vampire. You drink blood, live forever, and suffer the incessant nattering of new vampires who didn’t read the fine print.”

He was still angry with her. He told her not to go after Miko, and she did. Worse, she ended up a vampire, the exact thing she’d rejected when he laid it out and offered to find someone to turn her so they could be together. It had been terrifying to wake up surrounded by her classmates as the thing they hunted. She needed his help, and Vladislaus and his brother gave it. But she didn’t know if he’d ever forgive her.

If she’d ever forgive herself.

“What is you want, Anastasia?”

For you to forgive me. For all of this to be over. To grow old and ornery and die like I planned.

“I want to live in a house and eat food and see the fucking sun!” Just as she screamed the words, there it was. The thing everyone had been pestering her about for years. Ana was so startled by the damp feeling on her skin that she just stood there, pressing her hand to her cheek. “Why is this happening to me?”

“Because the studio thinks I can be helpful.” Vladislaus shifted in his coffin and gave her a jaunty wave. “Hi, I’m Luna Villareal.”

ANASTASIA

Ana frowned. She was drifting again, only now it was in front of some barely sentient teenager.

“This is my resume,” Luna continued, “I graduated from Britechester with a bachelor’s in communication. I’m organized, detail-oriented, and I know how to make your life easier without getting in the way.”

Ana took the paper she handed over but didn’t look at it. “What do you mean not get in my way? Why would you say that?”

“You’re Anastasia Barrister,” the girl replied as if that was explanation enough. 

“And?”

“You are one of the few Del Sol Valley stars who doesn’t have someone like me at their beck and call. Everyone says you like your privacy, but I think you don’t want to take the chance that someone will get in your way and mess something up.”

“What an astute observation.” Ana crumbled up the paper, trying to ignore the way her mouth wanted to curve into a smile. She’d have to find another way to appease the studio. A personal assistant was not going to happen.

“Here,” Luna handed Ana an identical resume, “I came prepared with back-ups just in case the first one had an accident.”

An accident? A surprised laugh fell out as Ana sized the girl up: Glossy yet perfectly coiffed hair, pink tartan suit, twin spots of determination burned onto her cheeks. She had balls.

Still, it was impossible. Ana couldn’t have some mortal bounding around after her while she lived her full vampiric life. And she certainly couldn’t have her bounding around after Penny. The new werewolf was more closed off than usual. She didn’t want to talk about being a werewolf; she didn’t want their relationship—which she always said with a pained expression—made public. She didn’t want any of the chaos Ana’s life brought around.  

“I’m not hiring,” Ana replied as she crumpled the second resume.

“You should. I’m not afraid of hard work. I won’t miss deadlines or details. I will improve your life. I can handle anything you throw at me.”

Ana cocked her head to the side. What a presumptuous little twat. Luna wouldn’t get the job, but she would get a lesson in fucking around with dangerous creatures.

Even if Ana peeled the memory out of her brain afterward.

Calling on her dark form was easy. “Oh, I see,” Ana bared her teeth in imitation of a smile. “You can handle that I’m a 950-year-old vampire who keeps her life private so she can freely feed off your blood? You can handle that my schedule is demanding because I’m immortal? I have no patience, no heart, no feelings, and no interest in being told what to do, least of all by some insipid child.”

She could hear the wild beating of Luna’s heart—sense the increase in her adrenaline. In a few moments, the child was going to run screaming.

Only she didn’t.

Ana watched in awe as the girl, still terrified, began to smooth her clothes and pulled out a clipboard. “D-does that mean you prefer to take meetings at night? I can flag that in your calendar.” 

“My calendar?”

Luna made one more note and then looked up at Ana expectantly. “And one more thing…what is blood?”

ANASTASIA

“You are quite the warrior. You’ll be laying Vladislaus on his arse in no time,” William held out his hand to help Ana up, a signal that training was over.

She took it, grateful. In the last five years of being a vampire, she’d learned that her body wasn’t immune to pain. She could still exhaust herself, pull a muscle—wear her body out. William told her that it took years to master the basics of occult energy. Natural-born vampires had an edge, but they still had to learn how to regulate the dark magic that powered them so they could fight, fuck, and heal without passing out. 

It might take her a decade to return to the fighting form she was in as a mortal. 

I suppose having all this extra time as an immortal is a good thing, she thought to herself. She’d learned not to mutter. Vampires had excellent hearing, and she’d had enough of Vladislaus and William responding to the quips she made under her breath. 

“Sweet William,” Vladislaus called out, “Always available to flatter my ego. Why don’t you run off and flirt with your new spellcaster?”

William scowled, “How do you know about Morgyn?”

“I have eyes everywhere.”

The hazel-eyed vampire snorted. “You mean our mother has eyes everywhere. Tell her it’s merely a dalliance, and she needn’t worry about me bringing them home.”

Vladislaus threw back his head and laughed, “The fact that you even bring it up means the thought crossed your mind.”

“Bullshit!” William shouted as the two erupted into an argument using a language Ana didn’t understand. 

She sighed and flopped down on a stump to watch. The language was probably a dead one, given how old they were. And yet, they tussled like children, scrapping and joking like they were in a schoolyard instead of the dark woods.  

The dark was for her benefit. Ana hadn’t gotten enough control of her occult energy to walk in the light. She winced as William tossed his brother to the ground; the distinct sound of one of his bones breaking was loud to her newly-vampiric ears. She would have been furious, but Vladislaus kept on laughing. He never seemed rattled by someone besting him.

Although, it was a good strategy. William was storming off like he was the loser.

“Give Morgyn my love!”Vladislaus shouted, blowing a kiss.

William turned, making a rude gesture. “Morgyn wouldna give you the time of day. And see that you don’t ask him. I know your track record.”

This, for whatever reason, made Vladislaus laugh harder. “Now I will tell Mother you are in love for sure.”

William growled. “If you wish to lose part of your loins, be my guest. I should tell her of your failure to make an honest partner out of Anastasia.”

“Please,” Vladislaus bent over, gasping for breath in between his laughter, “Ana would sooner be beheaded than marry me. Besides, I’ve been married. Our dear mother does not desire more weddings; she wants grandchildren.”

“Good thing she has no need to breathe. I’ve no interest in a mewling pile of brats following Morgyn and me around.” With that declaration, William headed for the treeline. Though, Vladislaus wasn’t done.

“Don’t forget to tell your new man about Harvestfest,” he shouted at his brother’s retreating back. “You know Mother will wish to throw a ball and bring him to church!”

“Are you ready?” he asked, turning back to Anastasia as he shoved his shoulder back into the socket.  

She winced at the sound. “I can’t tell whether you’ve fixed it or made it worse.”

He shrugged and then glanced over his shoulder. “I suppose I fixed it if I can do that. Come, the moonlight is waning.”

Ana laced her fingers together, smoothing her expression until it was one of calm innoncence. “You don’t have to lock me in. Clearly, I’ve accepted my fate.”

A fate that involved bedding down in a rat-infested castle. A witch owned it once, but Ana couldn’t tell if the place had been long abandoned or if the former inhabitant just lived in squalor and it was Vladislaus or William who cleared them out. Neither of the Straud siblings would confirm as if they were still unsure of her loyalties. 

They needn’t have worried. Witches were at the bottom of her list—The Good Order Monks saw to that. 

“Were, but I born yesterday; I might believe you,” Vladislaus quipped, his raven hair shining in the moonlight.

With a scowl, Ana followed him back to the castle. They quickly made their way up the stairs. She hated sleeping in a coffin, even if it was safer. And the tiny windowless tower was a depressing place to pass the time. She opened the door, a complaint on her lips, and froze.

The entire room was lit with candles. A huge bronze carving of the sun hung on the wall.

“It’s the best I can do,” he said quietly. 

Ana reached up, running her fingers across the metal. She still remembered the feeling of warmth. It flooded her as she touched the sculpture. “What is this?”

“You wished for the sun.”

She turned, eyes flashing, anger bubbling up for reasons she could not articulate. “And what now? I’m to be so flattered by this display that I forget I hate you and instead grab hold of your cock?” She twirled her hair, raising her voice, “Oh, why yes, Vladislaus, I’ll marry you and run around behind you like a good little wife, fixing your meals and darning your socks!”

His expression was wry. “If you darned my socks, I’d know you were plotting to kill me. Based on this, I assume you like it?”

Ana swatted him. She tried to maintain her scowl, but the carving really was beautiful. “Why would you spend your precious gold on something like this?”

Before she was a vampire, she didn’t understand his dedication to stacking coins. When they met, he already had more money than she could imagine spending in a lifetime. And yet, he and his brother lived like paupers. But now, as the possibility of centuries stretched before her, she could see that whatever amount they had gathered would not be enough. Immortality required a treasury the size of a small country. 

Vladislaus chuckled. “Why would you assume I paid for it?”

The laugh turned into a groan when she kissed him. “This is the last time I lie with you, Vladislaus Straud, so you better remember it.”

ANASTASIA

“Okay, I get the whole occult energy thing,” Luna chewed on the end of her pen, “But…why are you calling plasma blood?” 

“I’m very old,” Ana replied, her mind still half in the memory of that night in the castle. “Turn for the cameras but don’t wave,” she instructed.

Luna gaped at the paparazzi as she tried to make sure she was in the shot but also did not appear to be noticing them. She failed miserably. “How do you know all of this?”

“I told you, I’m old. Some sim during the scientific revolution discovered that blood was made up of plasma, and the word became all the rage. Now no one remembers that it was ever called anything else.”

“No, I mean, how do you know where all the cameras are and how to place your body,” she looked around, “I’m completely overwhelmed.”

“Oh.That. I have excellent senses. I’m attuned to everyone and everything going on around me at every second.”

Luna squeaked. “Everything? But how are you not out of your mind? How do you—”

“Enough questions,” Anastasia held up a hand. “You’re my assistant. It’s your job to make me look more mortal. What should we do for our photographer friends over there?”

Luna hesitated. Ana followed her gaze to a group of young sims that stumbled into the bar and headed for the game area.“Well?” 

“I…”

“You what? Luna, you’re alive and conversing with me because you made yourself out to be capable. If that’s not the case, tell me now, and I can put us both out of misery.”

The sim balked, “No! I just…it’s…” she fumbled for a moment and then clenched her fists. “You had an outburst earlier this year, but generally, you don’t get messy. If you want to look like a mortal, you need to act like you’re actually affected by the world. Get startled by the paparazzi. Pretend to be drunk and make bad decisions.”

The last bad decision Ana made in a tavern resulted in a centuries-long marriage to a self-centered demon, but maybe Luna was right. She threw back a drink and pulled the girl to her feet. “Come on.”

Ana walked up to the group from earlier. They were filling up cups and placing them on a ping pong table. “Hello, fellow sims.”

They gasped.

“I’m a celebrity,” Ana added helpfully.

They continued to stare. 

She winked, “I’m drunk. And I challenge you to a round of juice pong.”

---

Mortals weren’t cut out for juice pong. That much was clear. 

“I need to take notes on this in case we have to schedule it again,” Luna slurred, nearly knocking into a pole. 

Ana steadied her. “Where are your keys?”

“Keys? I don’t have keys! The doors just open when I get to my house!

Ana sighed and leaned Luna against the fence before donning her bat form and flying in through a cracked window. 

Luna’s apartment left a lot to be desired, which was saying a lot because Ana had spent her formal years in a medieval orphanage. She unlocked the door and carried her snoring assistant to what she assumed was her bedroom.  

“Do I have the job?” Luna mumbled.

Ana stared at the cat poster on the girl’s wall. “Hang in there,” it proclaimed. What drivel. “Luna, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“T-the job,” she replied, her tone insistent,”  I’m trying to get it because I need it.”

Of course, she did. Ana sighed. She always swore she wouldn’t let herself be plagued by some mortal tagalong, but perhaps she’d grown soft in her old age. “Yes. But next time, we’ll do considerably less drinking.”  

Luna made a pleased sound. “I did it like the book! Attract positive energy, and energy comes,” she slurred, “And now I don’t go home. I stay here.”

“Why can’t you go home?” Luna seemed young enough to still have a place with her parents. Modern sims kept children well past the sell-by date. Although, she could see the appeal. Caleb and Lilith were far more fun now than when they were screaming toddlers or sullen adolescents.

“He’s there,” Luna said softly. She did not offer any additional explanation.

She didn’t have to.

Ana switched off the lamp, but Luna tossed and turned, her brow furrowed as she made pained noises.

Bedtime had been Vladislaus’s domain. He was unfailingly gentle and full of stories and affection. Ana left him to it with their children, but sometimes, she crept back into their room late at night. Whatever life they led before becoming the wards of two vampires left Caleb and Lilith with nightmares. By the time Ana pushed open a door and lit a candle, Lilith would be sitting up, watching everything intently while Caleb huddled in front of the cradle as if he could protect her from the rest of the world.

“Go to sleep,” Ana said.

“I can’t,” Luna tossed again, “Can’t sleep. I’m scared.”

Caleb said that too. So Ana told her the same thing she told her son when she put him back in his own bed. “The only thing you have to fear lives in your house and calls herself your mother. If you sleep, you can dream of how I will find your enemies, pluck out their eyes, and eat their insides.”

Like Caleb, Luna stilled and went right to sleep.

Satisfied that her bedtime routine had universal appeal, Ana softly closed the door and walked back to the living room, only to find Luna’s roommate stumbling over to the radio as if to turn it on. 

“Touch that radio, and it will be the last thing you do.”

“Umm…what? I’m Luna’s roommate. My name is—”

“I don’t care what your name is,” Ana snapped. She grabbed the sim by the scruff of his shirt and wrapped her hand around his neck. “Luna will be very hungover in the morning. See that she drinks water, takes aspirin, and doesn’t try to leave the house. If you fail to do any part of this, I will know, and I will kill you.” 

“Okay!” he croaked, eyes wide with panic. “I p-promise.”

ANASTASIA

Anastasia didn’t think of herself as a mother with a second sense. She thought of herself as a mother who barged into her children’s lives whenever the feeling moved her, and she was usually right that they needed it. From the moment she arrived at Lilith’s house, she could tell something was off. The entire place reeked of magic.

Lilith sat on the couch, reading a book, but she jumped up as soon as Ana appeared. “Mother!”

Ana frowned at the mess, including the many empty nectar bottles. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I…I am sleeping,” Lilith’s eyes were wide. “This is just a very good book.”

It was never a good sign when Lilith lied. She relished making everyone uncomfortable with the details of her life. If she clammed up, it was a problem. “It’s beneath you to tell falsehoods,” Ana admonished.

“I’m not!”

“You are.”

Magic sparking from her daughter’s fingertips so erratically it nearly burned the furniture. “I am not lying. I’m not tired; I’m fucking fine. Why are you here?”

To be lied to, apparently. Ana smothered a sigh. If things were this bad, she would have to call Vladislaus. Her ex-husband was the devil, but he was also the only one who could deal with Lilith being magically overcharged.

Ana pressed a finger to her lips. Maybe she’d get lucky, and a bolt of lightning would surge through his cell phone and electrocute him.

“Mother? Are you listening? If you don’t have a real reason for being here, then get the fuck out!”

Pulled out of her fantasy, Ana refocused. Nothing distracted Lilith like gossip. “I had a fight with my girlfriend,” she announced, “She asked me a series of confounding questions about feelings, and I need to talk about it.”

---

FLASH WARNING

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CREDITS

In addition to the  CC I regularly use in the game and buildings from the Fleuralia Save File, I used the following builds and custom content. This story takes a ton of mods and cc, so if you see your work and I failed to tag it somewhere, please message me.