Notes:
This was my first time using TwistedMexi’s Tool Mod and baby, let me tell you, the learning curve was steep. Shout out to all the simmers (TwistedMexi) who made tutorials. My math skills CLEARLY need work, as I spent so much time mystified as to why 360 rotation wasn’t working (GUYS, IT IS A CIRCLE. THAT’S WHY THEY JUST KEPT FACING THE SAME WAY. I TURNED THE OBJECT IN A CIRCLE. GAH!).
I’m still trying to figure out the cc situation for Gwendolyn’s new look, so bear with me. There isn’t a lot of monster cc for kids and what does exist requires a lot of trial and error. Her look may evolve as I figure out my shit!
StrangerVille, Martin Residence
Valeria
For as long as she could remember, Valeria Martin always had a second sense. She knew when her children were in trouble…when her laboratory staff lied to her…when her husband had an extra helping of pie.
And she knew that when a knock came just after her new lab assistant called to make sure that she was home, murderous creatures were waiting on the other side.
“Just a minute! I have to grab something from the dining room,” she called out, “Door’s open!”
Backtracking to hide from their view but keep her own line of sight clear, Valeria peered past the wall. Did these creatures think they could come into her house on her day off and catch her unaware?
Folks would be surprised to learn what kind of enemies high-level government projects wrought.
Silently, she slid the buffet’s top drawer open and pulled out her gun. Leaning back against the wall, she took a deep breath and counted down from ten in her head.
It would be incorrect to say Valeria knew vampires were real. Though her job brought her into contact with many previously unknown things, vampires had been firmly planted in the “things my eldest daughter liked to watch TV shows about” category.
But Valeria was a scientist—the world’s foremost expert on momentum conversion. Categories changed all the time.
She cocked her gun and took another breath. Based on what she’d gleaned from Alice’s vampire phase, bullets were not going to stop her livingroom guests, just slow them down. But that would be enough.
—For now.
Ignoring the hissing sounds that sent shivers down her spine, she spun away from the wall and emptied her clip into the creature wearing the Victorian ball gown. The vampire dropped to her knees, sputtering and growling.
Meanwhile, the other vampire roared, preparing to charge her.
Valeria took a cautionary step back, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“The hubris of mortals,” he sneered, “You’ll be disabused of that notion soon enough.”
Before he and his purple suit made a move, Servo glided out of the kitchen and delivered an electric shock so powerful, if left the creature’s skin smoking.
Mechanical joints rattling, the robot marched over to its owner, taking care to use a metal foot to crush “Ballgown” back down to the ground.
“Dining Room protocol activated. Back-up has been notified,” he relayed, static punctuating his words.
Valeria took in the miserable sounds of the two fools splayed out on her floor and smirked.
Voice activation, it was the wave of the future.
Selvadorada
Morgyn
The jungle was for insects and those who deserved eternal punishment. That Aur—William—had the nerve to whistle while hacking through it made the entire experience worse. He could have easily used his vampiric speed to rush ahead and clear the path, but Morgyn was sure this sedate pace was being done on purpose.
“Are there no horses?” the Sage whined, not even bothering to put on a show of being disaffected.
“Horses? Have ye not been to the jungle since the Victorian age? Of course, there are no horses. You may look like a sim, but we both know you’re no mortal. Cast an energy spell or whatever you lot call it, and move along.”
Morgyn frowned but didn’t answer. If only William knew the number of times that they snuck away to burn off excess magic. Now they had to balance the scales by conserving magic.
The Sage felt their feet blistering in their highly fashionable but too tight boots.
After a few more miles, they were swaying on those blistered feet. “I think I’m going to faint.”
William turned, his mask of irritation quickly evaporating. As he sped over, Morgyn closed their eyes, deciding that their only consolation for all this suffering was landing in William’s arms.
That’s why it was such a surprise when they landed on the ground.
Shrieking Llama Pub
Caleb
He didn’t let on how much Amisyia’s dehydration bothered him. And she didn’t let on that she was the least bit affected after being dangerously deprived of water. Over the past few days, her condition improved. In fact, she now sat in the bathtub holding court like a Queen, her tailing flicking happily.
“That vampire is a menace. She storms into the grotto, no respect, demands I give her answers! Me? I conduct my trade, and I do not ask for trouble, and yet, she appeared.”
Caleb rolled his eyes, “Your ‘trade’ is spying, racketeering, and theft. If I recall, the centaurs left you tied to a tree and set it on fire in 1974. Lucky for you, I showed up then too.”
Amisyia gave him a patently false smile, “And I am so grateful, Caleb Vatore. Now we’re even after I rescued you from that gnome wedding in ’96.” She tilted her head back and settled into the water, “Did you ever find your underwear?”
Caleb growled, but it was undercut by Deacon’s laughter. The zombie was seconds away from rolling on the floor. He would get control of himself, mouth the word “underwear,” and then erupt into laughter all over again.
“It’s not that funny,” Caleb grumbled, crossing his arms. “And just what did Miss Hell want anyways?”
Amisyia sighed, “I knew that spaceship salvage was going to be a headache. She may have gotten the drop on me, but her underling was quite the chatterbox.”
“Why does she want to go to space?” Deacon asked, furrowing his brow, “That seems…far.”
“The Owl,” Amisyia replied. “She has every intention of stealing it and then getting the hell out of dodge. One of the contestants, Jenna or Jimena or something, is a demigod—”
“Jimena is a demigod?” Caleb interrupted. Usually, he wore a mask of boredom whether he knew the information or not. But this was actually shocking. “I suppose her attitude towards Alice makes sense if gods and demigods can sense each other.”
“I don’t think so, bro. I mean, when that other vampire dude killed me, Jimena was there, and she definitely didn’t know Alice was Death.”
Amisyia looked thoughtful, “I suppose that is one way of maintaining a power balance. Gods could be all around us, and we wouldn’t know it unless they revealed themselves. But then, they wouldn’t know if another god was hiding in their midst…”
Deacon shrugged, “Sure, I guess. But The Owl is a hella powerful statue. Why go all the way to space when you could just rock out with it here?”
It was a good question. If Deacon didn’t undercut it by swinging his feet against the cardboard box he was sitting on, Caleb would have actually given him credit.
“There is only one reason you hide after you get your prize,” Amisyia declared confidently, shifting her body in the tub, “And that’s if you were supposed to steal it for someone else.”
“Who is that someone else?” Caleb asked. It felt like the answer was significant.
“Who knows?” Amisyia shrugged, but there was a devious glint in her eye. “And you’re wrong about The Owl. It’s not a what, it’s a who.”
Caleb balked. A who? Did Vlad and Alice know? Maybe he should return Vlad’s phone call. The Former King of Windenburg obviously needed Caleb; the creature was practically begging on the phone.
Rolling his cuffs to give the appearance of being nonchalant, Caleb gave Amisyia a confident smile. “You’re a consummate professional, so I know you’ve left out the most valuable information. What will the rest of your knowledge cost me? And do not say grilled cheese.”
The siren preened. “Help me out of this tub, and we can talk about my fee.”
Fuck. Caleb swallowed and wiped his hands off on his jeans. Mermaids only had tails in the water, and like werewolves, their clothes did not magically reappear after their transformation.
“Of c-course,” he replied, but his tongue slipped on the words.
Don’t look down, he instructed himself, as he lifted her out of the tub. His eyes did not obey. When he finally dragged his gaze back up, Amisyia cocked her hip and smiled.
“Whoa!” Deacon bellowed, “Do you know you don’t have underwear?”
StrangerVille, Martin Residence
Cyrus Martin did not start out wanting to be a [redacted]. He thought about being a pastry chef, an author, and during a particularly misguided love affair in college, a school bus driver. But it turned out, he had a head for strategy and—Cyrus dodged a mud puddle—incredible reflexes.
It had been a long time since he and Valeria had such violent guests. Of course, there was their wedding, but no country in SimNation was ready to repeat that diplomatic incident. Besides, these creatures were decidedly not sims. He could tell by the unnatural color of their eyes and their sharp teeth.
He avoided two green swirls of energy coming at his head and kept running. The “myth, pending further investigation” entry in the government’s database would have to be corrected.
He spied the dark-haired woman out of the corner of his eye. It was clear to Cyrus that the vampires were taking their cues from her. Still, in his estimation, the plasma-sucking creatures nipping at his heels were the more significant threat. He could slow them down. He just needed to get to his sniper rifle stored under Alice’s front step.
A [redacted] stayed prepared.
Despite arthritis in his left knee and his rapidly balding head, Cyrus was still an excellent shot. Age before beauty jokes aside, it was good that Maverick and Mayra had been pushing him in his recovery. The heart-attack had scared them, but Cyrus liked to think of himself as an improved model.
He crouched and took aim, narrowing his focus, and pinning his shots to hit where they would shatter bone. He didn’t try to kill the creatures; he didn’t think he could. But anything that lost function of their joints would be easier to subdue.
“Make sure your mother packs the grenade launcher, and if she says there is no room, remind her that I already cleaned out my bowling gear!” Cyrus shouted. Mayra would be in Alice’s trailer, probably microwaving a snack and waiting for her cue. The least she could do was be his ally in this long-standing argument.
When he climbed to his feet (with more effort than he would have liked to admit), the dark-haired woman was gone.
Selvadorada
Morgyn
Morgyn cracked open an eye and sat up. William was frozen in place, and next to him stood Rory, Liberty, and Summer. They had clearly arrived via magic, and judging from their tans and swimsuits, had stopped to have a little vacation time along the way.
“Not to sound rude,” the Sage complained, climbing to their feet, “But what in all the realms are you three doing here?”
“Well, you look like you been dragged through llama shit and laid out to dry,” Rory remarked. He was positively glowing. Morgyn hated him.
“Yes, that is to be expected when someone is fluttering around, playing fast and loose with time. You’re all so powerful, and yet you neglected to reign Miko in. Are we all to be punished for your wayward child?”
“Niece,” Rory corrected. “We blame her parents for her negative personality traits. And is punishment really the way to look at it? How could any of this”—he gestured at William—” be a punishment?”
That brought Morgyn up short. A thousand timelines with Aurelius? They wouldn’t trade a single second, but you never let the Three Sisters know what you truly wanted. “I don’t take your meaning,” the Sage replied, arching an eyebrow.
“Denial doesn’t look good on you,” Rory smirked.
“And that shade of green looked better when you were Olivia Monty.”
“How dare you! You weren’t saying that when I was Admiral Landgraab. You liked my taste in—”
“Can it!” Liberty snapped. “Listen here, Sage of Untamed Magic, even struggling to maintain this form, you’re a powerful ally, and we want to make sure you stay that way. We’re going to give you what you want.”
Morgyn kept their face carefully blank. “What I want? I admit I am glad to be addressed in a manner that recognizes my level of importance,” they shot Rory a dirty look, “But I fail to see how you could offer me anything that I want. Clearly, I have all I need.”
“In exchange,” Liberty continued as if they hadn’t spoken, “We need you to split your magic between you and the creature currently identified as The Owl of Undoing. Untamed magic already has a connection to The Owl. To the untrained eye, the magic won’t be any different.”
Morgyn balked, “How did you—”
“We weren’t born yesterday,” Summer said, “Well, we were, but not in a way that you would understand. The point is, you were part of the original magic that made The Owl.”
Morgyn clenched their fists, “And? I have nothing to discuss on that subject with you three. You’re untrustworthy, never letting the truth slip by when a lie will do.”
“We don’t lie,” Liberty hissed.
“We obfuscate,” Summer agreed.
“And if we hadn’t obfuscated, you woulda never crossed paths with your dear Aurelius, so you’re welcome.” The smug look never left Rory’s face.
“Why would I give up my magic now?” Morgyn seethed, unwilling to give their argument any credence, “You three didn’t want me going after The Owl, so you gave me a distraction that I now consider more important. Whatever happens to her is none of my concern.” They raised their hand, prepared to call their magic.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Liberty warned, “And just for that little display, now we require two favors. Split your magic and broker an alliance between Elmyra and the God of Death.”
“Two favors? Are you insane? If I split my magic, I’ll be infinitely weaker. And why would I kowtow to that vain monster? I’ll have you know, Elmyra killed me on more than one occasion. She’s insufferable, as is her spawn. How does the saying go?” they tapped a finger against their chin, “Oh, I recall: go fuck yourselves.”
Suddenly, a swarm of poisonous bees surrounded the Sage. The painful stings were second only to the dull ache caused by the poison shooting through their veins. But it wasn’t Liberty who called them; it was Summer.
“We have plans for Jimena, don’t you worry none about that,” the scariest Fate insisted. She smiled serenely as she flicked a few more bees in their direction. “Think on what we said, Sagey-poo. If you do what we ask, you’ll get the key to Aurelius’s heart.”
Their vision might have been blurry, but they could just make out Summer blowing a little more poison in their direction. When they came to, William was holding them in his arms.
“You should have said you needed to stop!” he chided, but Morgyn, delightedly, could hear the worry in his voice. “Are you alright? Can you stand up?”
It could be like this, Morgyn thought. Less power but all the joy of Aurelius’s love…if they were willing to make the sacrifice. The feeling of naked vulnerability must have shown on their face.
“There’s no shame in it,” William said, hefting Morgyn easily, “You weigh barely anything. I’ll find a place to rest, and then we’ll see about those bee stings.”
StrangerVille, Martin Residence
Mayra
Mayra leaned up against Alice’s trailer, grabbing a few minutes of peace after helping her father drag the vampires inside. Extraction would be there soon, but in the meantime, it wouldn’t do for their neighbors to see two dead monsters in their backyard.
She glanced over her shoulder just to make sure Ted Roswell wasn’t outside with his telescope again, “stargazing.” Mayra had no idea what went down between him and her sister, but he was obviously trying to keep an eye on Alice.
Not that she blamed him. Everyone needed to keep an eye on Alice. If she wasn’t getting arrested or blowing off her tab at the bar, she was trying to avoid everyone. Probably so she could keep dating the bubble blower dealers and drunks she usually kept company with.
Assured that the coast was clear, Mayra tapped a code into the device she installed on the side of the trailer. Last week, her mother demanded that she remove it. Apparently, if they ever needed to go to Dining Room Protocol, it would be a problem for their explosive device to be attached to her older sister’s trailer.
“Oh well, too late,” Mayra sang after pressing the countdown button.
The contraption was her own design. She’d been working on it in between classes, and now that she finally had clearance, she could perfect it in her mother’s lab.
Strolling around to the front of her house, she found her parents arguing in front of the car. That they were supposed to be making a hasty retreat did nothing to deter them.
“Cyrus, do I look like I’m kidding? 1972, you don’t remember saying the same thing? ‘Pack the grenade launcher, Valeria; it’ll be fine.’ And what happened to our luggage?”
“Well—”
“I’ll tell you what happened,” Valeria continued, “We tied it to the top of the car, and it all flew off. And why did we do that? Because there was not enough room. And why wasn’t there enough room? Because I was right!”
Mayra tried very hard not to roll her eyes. Why was her family like this?
She watched as they walked around to the back of the vehicle so her mother could “prove” her point. It was so ridiculous. Once they figured out who was right about the storage capacity, they’d kiss, and her mother would start whispering the name of lab equipment because she thought, wrongly, that Mayra would not know she was referencing all the places they’d had sex.
Fifteen minutes of listening to the worst innuendo later, they were pulling out of their driveway just as the Extraction unit arrived.
“Mayra,” her mother said as she buckled her safety belt, “Are you sure you’ve set the timers appropriately? And you didn’t double loop any wires? Have you tested the—”
“Mother,” Mayra groaned, “I’m not an amateur.”
Her mother shot her a look. “Fine, then text your sister and tell her we are on our way.”
This time, Mayra did roll her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was spend her last few weeks of college break watching her sister traipse around Windenburg. Speaking of which, why did she even need warning? They already knew what she was probably doing—running out on her bar tab, keeping away from everyone, and violating her probation. Their father mentioned a guy. Mayra couldn’t wait to see what half-baked, jobless loser Alice was sleeping with now.
“Are you sure we need to go see her? I don’t think she is going to take this well…” Mayra complained, already deciding not to say anything to Alice. “This doesn’t even involve her, it’s probably about some government contract.”
“Yes,” her father sighed, sounding slightly harried, “But your mother has a second sense about these things.”
Thirty minutes after the Extraction team finished their work, the entire Martin residence exploded. Police could not identify an incendiary device and so ruled it a gas leak. Mayra could not resist replaying the news clip for her mother while waiting in line at the airport.
Amateur indeed.
Windernburg Woods, Dryad Territory
Alice
Alice woke up and immediately ran for the toilet. She fell asleep without eating, but her stomach still managed to dredge up contents from somewhere. Becoming immortal was supposed to be dope as hell, or at the very least, a relief. But apparently, living forever didn’t stop you from getting hangovers or feeling pain; it just healed you from it.
How Vlad resisted saying, “I told you so,” she would never know.
Resting her head on the edge of the toilet seat, she thought about the insanity of the last few days. Gwendolyn woke up starving, just like Vlad said, but also wild. She was no mere vampire, as a whispered conversation with an unseen entity made clear. The kid’s eyes flashed, and she fired off a volley of magic that hit Alice square in the chest.
The “gift” of immortality laid her flat.
It wasn’t just that. Gwendolyn was restless and given to tantrums that ended with furniture breaking against the wall.
Besides being ravenous, she was determined to destroy everything in her path. It was exhausting, even for Vlad. Alice asked him about the last time he slept, and he said, “decades, maybe a century,” but Gwendolyn made him want to reconsider.
Their easy banter and special one-on-one activities were gone. Gwendolyn would barely talk to him.
Bedtime was also a struggle. Their mini-vampire/magical container had nightmares. But when she didn’t rest, she became delirious and even more destructive. The other morning she screamed, “I don’t want to sleep in a coffin!” and tried to launch a chair through the window. The effort was only stopped by Penny’s counter-magic.
“You don’t have to sleep in a coffin,” Vlad told her, “But sleeping is not optional.”
Gwendolyn was not pleased. She bit off his finger.
The whole thing led to an argument with Penny, who muttered under her breath that “the kid was a nightmare” and “this was why you didn’t turn children” and was probably the source of Gwendolyn’s belief that she was required to sleep in a coffin. Gwendolyn might have been an unholy terror, but Alice wasn’t going to let Penny talk shit on her kid.
Needless to say, things were tense.
And not just with Penny. Alice and Vlad went back and forth about the best way to keep Gwendolyn safe and how much they needed to worry about Alice’s apparent deterioration. Her body healed just fine. The claw marks Gwendolyn left behind after waking from a particularly vicious nightmare disappeared overnight. But Alice was exhausted, and nauseous, and suffering from headaches round the clock.
On top of that, the contest’s final round was this weekend, and they were still no closer to having a plan. The argument about that was so intense that Alice maybekindasorta surrounded Vlad with a small cadre of killer cowplants, and Vlad pulled so much light from the atmosphere he caused a blackout for three miles.
A reset was necessary, hence today’s plan.
“She’s downstairs with Grim, who, thank sages, figured out how to assemble that dollhouse,” Vlad said, helping her up, “Caleb will be here shortly, so now is our window of opportunity.”
Alice splashed some water on her face and rinsed out her mouth. “Did she eat?”
“Yes, though to my great disappointment, her taste remains unrefined. Random store clerk or terrified witch, it’s all the same to her.”
She leaned against him and huffed a laugh, “Yeah, okay, well let’s put that on the list of future”—she almost said problem, which it was not—”stuff. We’ll just play whatever she wants and then casually segue into explaining that we are keeping her forever and leaving out the part about killing her foster family.”
Vlad nodded, but she didn’t miss the worry that flashed in his eyes. While Alice was fully prepared to be terrible at this, Vlad had no such allusions. It was agony for him to struggle with Gwendolyn.
She turned and gently patted his cheek, “Hey, this is just your new daily reminder that you are not bad at this, and she’ll be your hellion again soon.”
He smiled and reached for the doorknob, “Ah, so I am no longer a selfish asshole and King of Justifying Our Kid Being a Total Terror?”
Alice pulled him back, planting a kiss on his cheek, “Nah, last I heard, you weren’t a king at all.”
Vlad
“What’s wrong with me?” Gwendolyn asked when they took a break from playing dolls. Her rules were so intricate and opaque that Vlad found himself repeatedly chastised for doing it wrong. He had no idea what “it” was and probably never would. She had a future as a dictator if she wanted it.
“I heard Penny talking. You put a monster in me, so now I’m—”
“Perfect!” Vlad growled. He took a deep breath. “You are perfect, hellion. Made exactly the way you were supposed to be.”
“And I’m a vampire?”
“Somewhat.” He tried to think of a way to explain it to her that would make sense, but the truth was, there was a lot they didn’t know. She had no control over her dark form, not this young. Though, it remained to be seen whether her physical transformation would be permanent given The Owl’s power. A power that was still mostly mysterious to them.
“You are a vampire, yes, but also made of magic. Just as I am a vampire, but also Fear.”
“So I’m like you now? I get wings?” Her voice was small and suspicious.
“Yes, you are like me, and perhaps you will get wings when you’re older.”
Her eyes brightened, “Wings! Yes!”
“I said perhaps,” Vlad corrected. “But we’re not talking about your powers tonight, hellion. Do you recall the goal of this conversation?” It was hard to know if anything got through to her when she was screaming and breaking things.
“I’m an orphan, so you gotta figure out what to do with me.”
“You are not an orphan. You’re our kid. We are keeping you,” Alice said firmly. “It’s not a temporary thing, it’s a stuck with us for eternity sort of thing. Does that make sense?”
Gwendolyn narrowed her eyes and looked at Vlad as if waiting for him to confirm, and admittedly, it felt nice. She was full of personality today.
“You will not be parted from us,” he agreed, “You are ours.”
She began to fidget. “But how? I’ve already been born!” she put her head down and hugged her knees, “My family died, and then the other thing happened, and I’m covenless now!”
Vlad’s jaw tightened so much he thought he may have broken it. She referred to everything that happened that night as “the other thing.” It was the cause of her panic attacks and fear, which turned his stomach.
He tried to keep his emotions from flashing across his face, but before he knew it, he was on his feet. “You cannot be covenless, you are not a witch. And that word those cretins would have you—”
Alice pinched his leg and then crossed to Gwendolyn, kneeling down in front of her. “Hey, hey, listen, sometimes your family is the one you’re born with. But sometimes your family is creatures you choose, like friends you care a lot about or a very special, troublemaking little kid that you want to keep forever.”
“Is that a lie?” Gwendolyn asked, using her tiny hands to squish Alice’s face.
“Nope, not even a little.”
Gwendolyn seemed to consider that. Again, her eyes slid to Vlad. Alice’s intervention had given him just enough space to reign himself in. He nodded.
From there, Gwendolyn peppered them with endless questions.
“Okay, so you two and who else? Is Grim my family?”
Vlad ground his teeth together, “Yes.”
“And that zombie you mentioned?”
“…Yes.”
“And—”
“And plenty of other creatures, who you haven’t met yet, but you will,” Alice said quickly.
Gwendolyn insisted Vlad explain how his wings worked (just in case) and tried to get Alice to promise not to send her back to school. She wanted to know if this was her house, where her clothes would come from, and something about their “financial solvency and credit rating.”
Just as they thought things were coming to an end, she fired up another round of questions.
“So you’ll teach me to crush my enemies?”
That pulled Vlad up short. In a different time, he would have said yes. He could teach her destruction, but he now understood it could not be all she learned. He was just beginning that lesson at nearly 600 years old; he would not leave Gwendolyn to the same fate. “You will learn to control yourself. And sometimes to crush your enemies, which I will help with, but also other things.”
They had moved on to talking about Voidcritters when Gwendolyn looped back around.
“What other things do I gotta learn in life?”
Vlad hesitated. In truth, he did not have the faintest idea.
“Like how to make friends and find a hobby,” Alice jumped in, “And Gymboree…and not being an asshole, and some other things that we definitely have on a list because we’re adults.”
“Okay,” she said, clearly not satisfied with that patent falsehood, “But I want it in writing. And an allowance too.”
There’s my hellion. Vlad smiled, “Of course, hellion, we are wealthy beyond your wildest imaginings. Money means nothing, and you may have as much as wish.”
Alice made a sound of disbelief and elbowed him. “He means we’ll talk about how much an allowance is and get back to you with a number.”
StrangerVille Military Base
MIss Hell
Miss Hell slammed her car door and peered up at the building. When Jimena said she was in StrangerVille, it was obvious she and Bloodvein embarked on some scheme to leverage Alice’s family. Not that Miss Hell had not considered it herself, the two were working from the wisps of her plan.
But she didn’t think the idiots would land themselves in a military facility.
With a growl, she sauntered towards the door. This was no trip through airport security. They searched her and questioned her in the clearance room before she was allowed to check-in at the front desk. It went smoothly—her weapon was her body—but it did give her a sense of just how dangerous a situation Jimena was in.
“Legal representation for Miss Jimena Stewart,” Miss Hell explained to the soldier working the front desk.
“And Mr. Richard Lionel?”
“Who?”
“Richard Lionel,” the soldier explained,” Alias Vlad Bloodvein. He was brought in with your client and claims that you are his representation too.”
Miss Hell smiled, taking a moment to bask in the absolute glory of this moment. “I’m sorry I don’t know him. Perhaps he just got my name from off the internet.”
The soldier nodded and motioned for someone else to escort her down. As they made their way through the facility, Miss Hell made a note of the number of high-ranking officials and rooms full of monitoring equipment. This was not the kind of place you escaped easily. She had underestimated Alice. In fact, she had underestimated the entire Martin family.
Finally, they reached the holding pen. Judging by the soldier and the scientist standing next to Jimena’s cell, they had questions. Would Jimena’s otherworldliness register? How much did they know about vampires? Suddenly, she felt like a very small fish in a very big pond.
“I would like to be afforded a moment to discuss matters with my client in private,” Miss Hell announced, as she surreptitiously studied the camera angles. There was one blind spot, and it was virtually useless.
“I don’t think so,” the scientist said, “The property damage and attempt to ambush high-level operatives makes her a national security threat. On top of that, her tests have come back with several concerning and frankly confusing results. We are the ones with questions.”
“She has a legal right to—”
The soldier stepped forward and cleared his throat. “With all due respect, ma’am, this is a sim nation facility. It’s federal. Legal rights are different here.”
“And who are you?” Miss Hell asked, sizing him up. Though he said everything with the utmost politeness, it was laced with an undercurrent of threat. He would have made a fine lackey. Better than Bloodvein. Probably better than Jimena.
“Martin. Corporal Maverick Martin. Pilot of the F-Wing Starter in the 171st division.”
Miss Hell smiled. Maverick Martin? As in Alice’s brother? What a fortuitous turn of events. “Alright,” she said, pulling over a stool and taking a seat, “What are your questions?”
Credits
SPY Animation Pack by Zac Frietas
- Gun by RJSims
Combat Poses by JoanneBernice
Get Out Of My Bath Posepack by Phobis
Turn Your Attention to Me Poses by Helgatisha
Male Poses 09 by Helgatisha
Sniper Poses by Princess Paranoia
Inured Poses by RayGun
Eyes (Glowing Robot and All White) by Zaneida
Animation Mega Pack: Talking Emotions by Steven Studios
Carrying Him Posepack by Natalia-Auditore
Land Rover Defender 110 by LorySims
My Sick Sims by JoanneBernice
Mother Daughter Goals by MandiJSims
Female 15 Posepack by Cassandra Grusel
Posepack 29 by Katverse
Sims 4 Model Poses by Helgatisha
Parent Child Interaction Pose Pack by RayGun
Vampire Teeth Child by MahoCreations
Kids Seated by Simmerberlin
Random Couples #2 by Phobis
All My Life by Simmerberlin
Kids Seated by Simmerberlin
I Just Posepack by Simmerberlin
Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Simmerberlin
15 Sitting Poses by Isims1357
Under Your Spell Eye Set by PyxisAngel Wings by Natalia-Auditore
Modern Eco Family Home by ashbatch16
The stunning Military Base lot was built by margotmtb. You can download it from the gallery. It has literally inspired an entire chapter because I HAVE to play in it more.