Author Topic: Worlds Apart - Season 4, Chapter 22: Sibling Issues  (Read 50444 times)

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 5 - I'll Come A-Knocking
« Reply #30 on: July 30, 2017, 05:24:42 AM »
You Don't Have To Say
 
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Bucket: No…! I can feel their beams! They’re almost… choking me…. Arghghbhghhch!
Alecia: For heavens sa….
Jakcson: Are you ok? Bucket?!

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Bucket: My mind! My mind! Aaaah!! The beams are striking the bucket!
Jackson: You must fight them!
Alecia: *Sigh*
Bucket: Yes! Must…! fight…! I can feel them… weakening…! Yes! The bucket… protects me. They’re giving up!
Daniel: Ahem…

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Daniel: I don’t believe we’ve met… I’m Daniel.
Bucket: That’s what you think!
Daniel: Eh, what?
Bucket: You’re not yourself. You’re controlled!
Alecia: Daniel…
Daniel: Am I? By whom?
Bucket: The aliens! Everyone is, except me, and Jackson.
Daniel: And why isn’t Jackson controlled?
Bucket: He’s insane! The beams can’t control the insane.
Daniel: The beams from…?
Bucket: Space! The satellites! The aliens have taken them over. Soon, there’ll be a massive invasion!
Alecia: Daniel, let’s play some chess, please.

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Alecia: Have you taken the oath, my dear?
Daniel: What oath?
Alecia: The family oath, about longevity.
Bucket: No, not Barenalde. Aldebaran, Jackson.
Daniel: No. What’s that about?
Alecia: Not living forever, as a fairy, or a vampire, for that matter… It goes like this: “When my grandchildren, or those of my contemporaries, reaches adulthood…”
Bucket: They can't see the alien armada, it's too far away. For now!
Alecia: Would you shut up!!

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Alecia: “…I will cure myself, becoming a regular human, and take the grey hair.”
Bucket: She’s not herself, she’s controlled…
Daniel: Take the grey hair?
Bucket: The aliens want to silence me...
Alecia: Bucket!! Yes. It means using Age of Instant, the potion, to become an elder.
Daniel: I don’t get it, what’s the point?
Alecia: The point, my dear, is that if you have child who is not a supernatural, that child will die of old age long before you do. The oath prevents that from happening. Everyone has taken it, even her.
Daniel: Hm. That’s why she had no wings when she was brought back…
Alecia: Yes.
Daniel: But… you’ve had grey hair for years?
Alecia: Is that any wonder, with all I’ve been through!? *Sigh* Here comes your mother, we’ll do this later…
Danielle: Daniel! Come here!

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Danielle: The bill from Fumblethrush has finally arrived. Referring to “Division Manager Daniel Lane”, he wants 6000.
Daniel: Yeah, I… made an agreement…
Danielle: My agreement with him was for 2000!
Daniel: Mhm. Did he discover anything?
Danielle: Apparently, the stone referred to a hitherto unknown way of preparing a long-extinct species of papyrus, which at this point is purely theoretical and may not have existed at all.
Daniel: Ouch.
Danielle: When you get a job, which I expect to happen imminently, you will start paying off the 4000 you so callously threw away.
Paying back 4 grand through a bottom-rung job would take some time, but he knew someone who might know a thing or two about making a quick buck. Besides, she had some job for him already.

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Lynx: You handy?
Daniel: Just a little.
Lynx: More than me, I'd bet.
Daniel: I wouldn't.
Lynx: Come on, let's find out.

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Lynx: Eyes straight ahead, soldier, this down here ain’t me.
Daniel: I won’t be a soldier, Lynx.
Lynx: No? Too tough for ya, huh?
Daniel: Too tough for my grades.
Lynx: Don’t do the ditchin’ if you’re gonna be…
Daniel: Easy for you to say.
Lynx: Yep. Goin’ up.

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Lynx: Whaddaya think? Forget the whiff, it’s… from a party. Shoulda aired out…
Daniel: Wow, it’s…
Lynx: Messy?
Daniel: Mmmyeah…

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Lynx: Hey, I don’t waste time sortin’ out my room. I rock, ok?
Daniel: Is that your guitar?
Lynx: On the wall?
Daniel: Yeah?
Lynx: Naha… That’s some jank I lifted. Wanna see the real deal?
Daniel: Sure.

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Lynx: This is da bomb. Dearest thing I own, soldier.
Daniel: Looks hot. Did you steal that too?
Lynx: Naha. This was a gift.
Daniel: From your “dude”?
Lynx: His old man, Jack. Used to rip this bad, back in the day. I’ll put it back, amp needs tun…
Daniel: A guitarist called Jack? What’s his last name?

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Lynx: Huh? You wanna find out who my boyfriend is, huh? He’s in the band, that’s all you get to know.
Daniel: It isn’t about that! This Jack guy could be my grandfather.
Lynx: You’re trippin’…
Daniel: I’ve never seen him, but he was a guitarist, named Jack! Jack Lane. Cracker Jack, they used to call him.
Lynx: Never heard’m called that. Jack The Black, he goes by, ‘cause he always wears black. I dunno his last name, just the stage name. It could be the same as...
Daniel: Yeah... What’s your boyfriend’s last name?
Lynx: You ain’t gonna know, soldier. But it ain’t Lane!
Daniel: Is it Keaton?

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Lynx: What the… How…
Daniel: It’s him! My grandfather! He had a child with a Keaton girl.
Lynx: So… you’re kin to Ritchie, my boyfriend…?
Daniel: I must be!
Lynx: Wooooow… That’s like… so weird.
Daniel: Where does Jack live? I need to see him.
Lynx: He… moves around, nothin’ permanent.
Daniel: You have his number?
Lynx: No. I’ll get Ritchie to give him your number. Promise ya, ok?
Daniel: Ok…
Lynx: Now, check this out.

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Lynx: Hear that? When I crank the treble? It ain’t right, huh? Whaddaya think? Tweeters blown? Bad cable?
Daniel: Well, I…
Lynx: I almost fried myself messin’ around with those tools, inside there. Can you fix it?
Daniel: No... If I even try that, it's ambulance time. You play pretty loud… Your father doesn’t mind?
Lynx: He ain’t my father, soldier. Just some temporary stand-in.
Daniel: Your parents...?
Lynx: Mom died givin’ birth to me, my father stuck around for one night.
Daniel: Oh… Sorry.
Lynx: Don’t be, I’m used to it. Seen the diploma?
Daniel: Sims university… Lynx Blunstone, the Degree of Physical Education… Cool fake.

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Lynx: Nope. Totally, 100% real.
Daniel: Bah, you’ve never gone to school.
Lynx: I don’t need to. I’ve graduated univ, see.
Daniel: It’s a fake! It must be!
Lynx: Naha! For real! Call univ and check! It was fraud, but I got it.
Daniel: Ah, fraud… But Physical…? I don’t picture you as a sporting type.

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Lynx: What? I’m sporty… *cough*
Daniel: Haha, right… I’ve never seen you at the gym…
Lynx: I’ve totally been to the gym, bossed it.

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Daniel: …or the pool.
Lynx: I love the pool! I ain’t no swimmer, though, I’m more about interior design.
Daniel: So, why physical?
Lynx: You can’t always get what you want, soldier. Woulda liked Fine Arts, but… that’s what I got. I ain’t gonna, like, use it for anythin’.

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Daniel: It’s all about rockin’?
Lynx: Yep. Get a record deal, get outta here.
Daniel: You’re looking to leave?
Lynx: This place is weird. Like, dark in the middle of the day, foggy… So provincial and depressing, man. I wanna get a flat in Bridgeport, but… gotta break through first and get the dough.

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Daniel: Yeah, dough… Do you know a quick way to make, I don’t know… 4000?
Lynx: Depends. How much time are you willin’ to do?
Daniel: In jail?!
Lynx: Yeah. But it ain’t a crime if you ain’t caught.
Daniel: I can’t risk that. I’m trying to get a job, and that would pretty much ruin my chances.
Lynx: Though luck. Can’t help ya.

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Lynx: Listen, I gotta pack for Bridgeport.
Daniel: How long will you be gone?
Lynx: Dunno. Gigs, partyin’… I’ll have my birthday bash there.
Daniel: Mine is tomorrow. The next time we see meet, we’ll be adults. Weird.
Lynx: Huh, yep… Take care, soldier.
Daniel: Don’t forget to give Jack my number. I'll... look forward to seeing you.
Lynx: I never forget.

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Hm. The affair between his grandfather and Latasha Keaton, that had already cost their family so much, was coming back to haunt them again. What were the chances that their child would end up being the boyfriend of a girl he fancied? Absurd! He had to meet Jack, and maybe he’d even have some of the answers that his grandmother was so unwilling to provide. One thing was clear: If Jack stepped across the doorstep to House Celeste, Alecia would suffer a nuclear meltdown of epic proportions, so he had to be kept well away from there…

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She was early, not wanting him to wait nervously after Daydream stood him up. She complained about wanting to go as a “nice” witch, and ending up looking like a cross between Dame Edna and something out of Harry Potter, but he didn’t mind. She'd come, she'd made their clothes, which meant this was no joke to her.

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When she started seeming dizzy, and casually mentioned that she’d eaten nothing all day, he thought it best to hit the kitchen. As the words started pouring out of her, praising their house, talking about her family, their classmates and fashion school, he almost regretted it. As she babbled on, he thought about the Jack, and the girl in the nursery.

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They did turn heads, and blow minds. Daydream wasn’t there to see it, but the others were, except for the former King, of course. How Maria Younan could end up without a date was a mystery to Daniel, but he lapped up the look she gave them. All night, Faith was a courteous companion. Ok, she did talk too much, but there were no scenes, no freakouts. There weren’t many couples, due to the lack of boys, but they stood out, not least because of her self-made, matching outfits.

It wasn't until they where leaving he had time to really feel anything. The relief of having pulled through unscathed felt like walking on clouds, but there was no blue sky above, no sunshine. Just the foggy Moonlight Falls night, grey tiles adorned by a couple of bike stands, and the knowledge that, tomorrow, she would be gone. Due to her morning flight, they had to leave early, and the music of the umpteenth last dance kept them company from the inside.

Faith: Daniel… I’ll never, never forget this. Thank you, thank you!
"It wasn't me who changed, but you"
Daniel: Thank you. You’re the one who popped the question.
"And now you've gone away"
Faith: This is the best night of my life! Hehehe.  I wish we could… That I didn’t have to…
Daniel: Faith?
"You don't have to stay for ever."
Faith: Yes…?
Daniel: Don’t talk. And don’t laugh.
"I will understand"

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Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 6 - You Don't Have To Say
« Reply #31 on: August 09, 2017, 03:42:26 PM »
Rites of Passage

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“When you play the game of bones, you either win, or you try.”
Just hours left. He had to come up with something, some sort of declaration of what he was going to do. Or at least try. Beekeeper, perhaps? Was that even possible? Staying at home, smoking the bees, getting stung repeatedly, earning a pittance… Hm.
“A Blammister always pays his debt.”
Banking? No, no business, too dry. Besides, Lynx would hate it… Too bad she had no shortcut for him to those 4000 he now owed his mother. Fumblethrush must have laughed all the way to the bank, but a deal was a deal.

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“The North remembers.”
Would Lynx remember? Would her boyfriend, what was his name again, remember? Or would it take ages before he would get in contact with his grandfather? Did he even know he had a Lane grandson? What did he remember from his life at Memory Lane?
“For I am Shenebys, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, blabla…”

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Bah, what was he watching…? Better get a quick nap instead, to have some energy for what was coming. Since both the girls he would have considered inviting were gone, the celebration wouldn’t involve any guests, but it would still be a bit of a fuss. Maybe a nap could help him think of something, too. Not going to school was quite exhausting, really… Ah, better… Much bett…

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“I am Shenebys… Mother of Unicorns, Breaker of siblings, The Undead, Queen of Lanes, Carsons and Moores, Master of potions, Master of science, Master of martial arts, Master of…”
The voice kept going on and on, and he knew what he was seeing wasn’t real, that it was a projection of his own making. Still, she was mesmerizing. After what seemed like an eternity, he managed to move his eyes away from her face, over to buildings to her right. 325 Oak Grove Road and Villa Carsonia, the domains of the siblings she had crushed. He had never gotten inside Villa Carsonia, where she was born and grew up, together with the sister she had clashed with. There had to be some clues there, however small. To go forward, he would have to go back. Enter the kingdom that had once been ruled by Kate Carson. Get…
Danielle: Daaaaniel…! We are set here, get ready.
Yes. Now he knew what he had to do.

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Danielle: Presents first. Now, this is…
Alecia: …a genie lamp from me. It’s not much, but I hope it can prove useful, my dear.
Daniel: Thank you, grandma. I’m sure it will be.
Danielle: The laptop is from me, it’s a top-range model, too expensive really. But you’re just 18 once…
Daniel: Thanks mom, that's just what I needed. Brilliant.
Danielle: Jackson?

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Jackson: Of course. This is Plutonium!
Danielle: Plutonium, Jackson.
Jackson: That’s what I said!
Danielle: Oh. Sorry. But isn’t plutonium... dangerous?
Jackson: Not this. Can’t make… gah. Can’t go boom!
Danielle: Great pops, thanks. Great presents, all…
Alecia: We’re not done yet, there’s one more thing. From my dearest Vance. Follow me.

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Daniel: It’s the Stallion, his car!
Alecia: Yes. We figured you would be fed up of calling for the limo by now.
Daniel: Wow… That is awesome.
Danielle: That thing looks very dangerous. Are you sure it’s safe, Alecia?
Daniel: Mom…
Alecia: It’ll be just fine, Danielle. Time to blow out those candles, Daniel.

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Four candles? Well, it was all they had. The cake looked so childish, and his grandmother and mother behaved so sheepishly, that he couldn’t help but laugh, more than a little embarrassed.
Danielle: Hoot! Hoot! Happy birthday!
Alecia: Happy birthday! Hihaaa! Come on, hihaaaa!

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Alecia: Wow.
Jackson: Hahaha!
Danielle: Whaaat?! That’s not really formal cloth…
Daniel: Ok, I’m ditching this, this isn’t me.

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Daniel: That’s better. I hereby declare…
Jackson: Cake! Don’t push!
Alecia: Move, my dear! You’re just standing there, fiddling around!
Danielle: Can you hurry up?
Daniel: Are any of you listening…?!
Alecia: Shut up, my dear. Cake first, declarations later.

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Danielle: Where did all that hair come from? And the stubble…?
Daniel: Sometimes, things happen fast, mom.
Danielle: I say… They certainly do. But I think I can get used to it…
Daniel: I hope so, it isn’t going away.
Danielle: What was it you wanted to declare?

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Daniel: I’m becoming a private investigator.
Danielle: Ok... Is the pay decent?
Daniel: There are better paying jobs, but this is what I want to do. I see things, notice stuff, that’s what I’m good at.
Jackson: He will find things.
Danielle: Very well. Will you be working from home?
Daniel: To start with, I imagine there’ll be a lot of field work. But I will eventually need an office, for clients, file cabinets and stuff.

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Alecia: We’ll make room, don’t you worry, young man.
Daniel: I better get down to City Hall, get registered.
Danielle: Already? But…
Alecia: The cases won’t be running away, detective.
Daniel: I’m taking this seriously, grandma. And the biggest case of all is already running away.
Alecia: Choose your battles wisely, now...

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Jackson: Danielle is sick.
Alecia: What are you talking about, my dear?
Danielle: I’m….
She said it just as he slammed the dishwasher shut.
Daniel: You’re what?
Danielle: I’m pregnant.

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Daniel: What? Now!?
Danielle: Yes.
Daniel: Why now…? And not… years ago?
Jackson: I don’t like diapers.
Danielle: It’s not like it was planned, Daniel.
Alecia: Me neither, my dear. Horrid stuff.

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Danielle: You will finally have a brother or sister, Daniel. Aren’t you happy?
Alecia: I hope it’s a girl. A proper, black-haired Carson girl.
Daniel: I haven't exactly been craving for siblings, but I’m happy if you are.
Danielle: Oh, Daniel… Of course I am happy!
Alecia: Daniel, could I have a word before you leave?

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Alecia: The genie lamp only has one wish left, I’m afraid…
Daniel: I’ll manage. Where did the others go?
Alecia: I “salvaged” this lamp from Memory Lane, just in case we might need it. There were four or five lamps lying around there, from riders wishing for eternal joy, and that’s how the first wish was used. I spent the second wish to pay for the house. We still have some cash left thanks to that.
Daniel: No problem, one beats none every day.

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Registering at City Hall was just an excuse really, for finally taking a spin in his own car. He did do the paperwork, and try out the investigator outfit, but mostly, he just drove around. For the first time since he was a little child, he felt… free. No expectations, no obligations. Driving around at random while enjoying the burble of the engine was bliss, and who knew how long this feeling would last?
 
He drove past Ulrich Schlagdorff, the wifeless German tech magnate, striding along with a grouchy look while carrying one of his three toddler daughters. Where were the others? Hm. Soon there’d be a toddler in their house too. What were his parents thinking? There would be an age gap of a generation between their children, and if he had a kid of his own any time soon, it would become very weird. Wouldn’t… His phone rang, and it was Jack Lane. His long-lost grandfather.

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Though it was getting late, they agreed to meet, at Rags to Riches, which was likely to be a secluded spot given the hour. Daniel didn’t have to wait long before a black Eidolon pulled in, ejecting a spindly, grey-haired figure dressed all in black. He hadn’t expected him to look so small and thin, but the face bore some resemblance to the pictures he had seen, and the car matched the description of “Cracker” Jack’s getaway vehicle.

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Jack: About time we met, Daniel.
Daniel: Absolutely.
His handshake was that of a bigger man, or one whose hand has worked so much with strings of steel that the fingers have taken on the same hardness. Perhaps he could see the faint outline of a restrained smile on his face, but no jokes were being cracked.
Daniel: It’s getting dark, let’s go inside.
Jack: Yeah… Too dark to see.

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With some light thrown on him, it was clear that Jack The Black was the source of the brown eyes Jackson had passed on further, but Daniel made a mental note to himself about checking the corridor portraits for an even earlier instance.
Daniel: So, Lynx passed the word on?
Jack: Yeah. She never forgets.
Daniel: That’s what she said… Do you know her well?
Jack: A bit. I taught her some riffs. I know she has her own demons.
Demons? Her issues had just been upgraded.
Daniel: It’s serious, her relationship with your son?
Jack: I think so. Anyhoo, she also told me something about you.

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Daniel: Yeah?
Jack: It’s your birthday today. Congratulations, grandson. Your present is parked outside.
Daniel: Thank… What? The car?!
Jack: The car.
Daniel: I have a car, Vance gave me his. You need it more than I do.
Jack: Ahem. You’re taking it home, and I’ll tell you why. The original buyer of that car was Kate Carson, who bought it as a wedding present for her second husband, Mike Acker.
Daniel: Alexandria’s father…
Jack: Yeah. When he was kicked out, it passed to Trent Lane, Kate’s butler and Alexandria’s future husband. After Trent, it was inherited by Johnny Lane, her son, who styled it orange and called it “Rockwork Orange”. That Eidolon is a family heirloom, and it has to stay in the family. I won’t take no for an answer.
Daniel: If you insist…

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Jack: I do. Anyhoo, I know you’ve got room for it. I saw the house, from a distance. Pretty nice. Alecia’s work? How is she these days?
Daniel: And Jackson’s. She’s thrifty and sharp-tongued, as usual.
Jack: Ahem. Good. Good… Do you miss Memory Lane? I heard what happened, I talk to Vance sometimes…
Daniel: I’ll always miss it. But I still don’t know what happened, and I want to find out. How could your mother give it all to her? How could Alexandria just throw it all away? You were there, with both of them, before… Alecia refuses to talk about it.
Jack: Ahem. Yeah… My mother is a complicated subject, I don’t know if I ever understood her myself... You really want to plough that old stuff?
Daniel: I’ve never been more certain of anything.

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Jack: Vance told me you like to dig, so I brought this…
Daniel: “A Different Drum. The Lane Legacy – Volume 3: Generations II and III.” By Alyssina Lane. Hm! How many volumes are there? Where are they? This book wasn’t in the bookshelves at Memory Lane.
Jack: Each volume was given as a gift, and there are no other copies of them. Volumes 1 and 2, if they still exist, are probably in Alexandria’s hands. I’ve never seen them. The 4th volume was her own biography, and I doubt she completed it. She hated writing about herself, and it got a bit dark. You’ll have to hear that story from me, or at least, what I know about it.
 
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Daniel: That would be invaluable. I’ve just registered as a PI, and though there’ll be plenty of cases, I’ll always consider this the most important one.
Jack: I understand. It would be a long talk, but this isn’t the time. Start with the book. To get a handle on my mother, you need to know about what shaped her, and her own thoughts on her parents and grandparents. Call me when you’re ready.
Daniel: I will. Thanks, for the car, and for the book.
Jack: Don’t mention it, both are a part of your heritage. It’s the least I can do.

It was only when the old man had left, that Daniel remembered. Jack used to be a fairy, with yellow wings. Now he was human, and old. He must have taken the oath, and stuck to it, quaffing a potion as soon as he heard about Daniel’s birthday. Did he keep his oath because it was the sensible thing to do? Or was he afraid of a certain auburn-haired woman coming after him if he didn’t, as she had done with the Moores? There had been no sign of his good sense of humor. Maybe it wasn’t just his clothes that had gone black.

Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here



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Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 7 - Rites of Passage
« Reply #32 on: August 13, 2017, 08:48:26 AM »
A Different Drum, Part I

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Daniel sighed, looking at the size of the book. This was probably going to be pretty boring, but he had said he would dig, hadn’t he?

The Lane Legacy – Volume 3 – Generations II and III
By Alyssina Lane


To my son and heir, Jack Lane.

Her heir, Jack? He never inherited, he was kicked out. Ah, it had to have been written before that...

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Johnny Lane, my grandfather, and the only boy among Alexandria’s triplets. When I see this picture of a young Johnny, I still react to his stupid-looking haircut with a mixture of embarrassment and compassion. That haircut was in many ways a perfect representation of him. He was goofy, impulsive, unimaginative, a hard worker, honest and loyal. He was also athletic, mean-spirited, a bit of schmoozer, and he took an interest in the horses from an early age. Nobody would ever claim that Johnny was rocket scientist material. Still, when compared to his sisters (see volume 2), it is natural that he was Alexandria’s chosen heir. He also had that going for him, that he was so in awe of his mother that he adhered to her instructions more diligently than if they had been issued by God.

Still, even Johnny was a risky choice. If left to his own devices, he rarely did anything useful. He would mingle endlessly with the horses, feeding treats and rubbing necks, engage in meaningless 8-hour workouts, and he was liable to provoke or scare others just to get a kick out of it. He frequently traveled across town to shout obscenities outside Villa Carsonia, to trigger his nemesis and cousin Frank Carson, whom he dubbed “The coach-potato slob”.

With Johnny in charge, there was a serious risk that Memory Lane would turn into a clown school once Alexandria was gone, and she did not take that risk lightly. The search for someone who could act as a balance to Johnny was started early, while he was still just a child. Eventually, Alexandria made her move, and it was as surprising as it was brilliant.

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Brook Kimura Carson, the daughter of Leonardo Carson, Chloe’s oldest son, and Tori Kimura. Every school has a girl who the boys know they can’t mess with, and Brook was that girl. Hot-tempered and tough, she had basically been an orphan from the age of 14, due to the fight between the sisters, her mother’s early death, and her father’s disappearance (see volume 2). The then 16-year old was working after school and selling salvaged junk to pay the rent at a ramshackle house, and, as can be expected, her grades weren’t great. A “donation” to the school had enabled Alexandria to inspect the report cards of all the students, and she sensed buried gold when she discovered that Brook, a Carson, was described as “an artistic talent”…

Alexandria paid Brook a visit, and offered the girl a free room at Memory Lane, a motorcycle, tutelage, and all the comforts of the estate, including perfect meals, potions and nectars. Brook refused, knowing that this was the woman who had caused her grandmother to end up in a mental institution. Alexandria returned two days later, upping the offer: If Brook moved in and stayed until she was 18, Alexandria would pay for university, and, if she ever wanted to leave Memory Lane, a sizeable house, and a luxurious car. Brook found that offer too good to refuse…

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While Johnny and his sisters were never allowed to come near a canvas, Alexandria let Brook use the entire Winter Lounge for her painting and sculpting. For the first time, music, so closely connected with Kate and the Carsons, could be heard at Memory Lane, emanating from a stereo in the Winter Lounge, bought specifically for Brook. The Winter Lounge was locked to all except Brook, preventing her from being disturbed by chatty or dance-hungry members of the family, especially Johnny and his two sisters.

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When Brook turned 18, she didn’t leave. She had formed a stronger bond with Alexandria than she ever had with any of her parents, and both her grades and artistic abilities had boomed. While Alexandria’s children could be the target of criticism, Brook was given nothing but positive encouragement, and she in turn responded by eagerly drinking from the fountain of knowledge that Alexandria represented. She fell in love with Johnny Lane, possibly through Alexandria using her phone app skills, and while Johnny’s sisters left the household, Johnny and Brook went to university together.

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At university, Johnny, a physical major, embraced the culture of the jocks to such a degree that he became known as Johnny The Jock, further amplified by him always wearing a college sweater. I remember him frequently doing that stupid school dance, while always keeping a baseball and a football at hand for idle times. Brook, naturally, chose the fine arts. After returning home, the quickly got married, in a private ceremony, as Alexandria didn’t like publicity of any kind. Brook embarked on a career as a chef, while honing her artistic skills at home, and Johnny went into sports.

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Johnny Lane didn’t like to lose. He prepared so seriously for the Sunday games that his team was never in danger of not winning, but he was also competing with his wife to see who could top out their career first. Workaholic Brook proved a tougher nut than his sporting opponents: She brought home the Kelvin One fridge, deciding the contest, days before Johnny could make it to superstar. In response, Alexandria gave Brook her Motive Mobile, named her family alchemist and future Master of the house. Johnny was the heir, but Brook would be the boss.

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Armed with the Motive Mobile, Brook started going around the clock when she began her career as a painter, thereby also finding time to do alchemy and help out with the horses, besides already being the family cook. Her output as a painter was staggering, but the standards she set were beyond punishing: She sold anything that wasn’t a masterpiece, was too avant-garde, or if she felt that either Kate or Chloe Carson had done a better version of it. As a result of this, she sold 90% of her paintings. “If it’s easy, it isn’t worth doing” was a motto she quoted often, and lived by.

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Johnny’s second career was as a sports agent, a job that didn’t give him a lot of satisfaction, but he struggled through it. Meanwhile, he was paying greater attention to horse racing. Riding a variety of horses throughout his early years, he eventually inherited Alexandria’s Monolith, the first unicorn. Though his race preparation was a complete mess, often entering races regardless of the condition of either horse or rider, he racked up 17 international showjumping wins, 13 of them on Monolith.

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Johnny and Brook had two children: Mickey, the firstborn, was a handsome boy who had horses in his blood and was a genius to boot. Horses and science were two of Alexandria’s main passions, making the choice of heir a no-brainer. Or was it? Symphony, the younger daughter, had cried so melodically as a baby that it was Alexandria who had insisted on the name. She promptly abolished her own rule of toddlers not being allowed xylophones, and proceeded to furnish the house with every playable instrument as Symphony grew.

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My father’s graduation from high school, the day after Alexandria’s passing. From left to right: Apollonia (Resident No 2), unknown bystander, Mickey Lane, Johnny Lane, Brook Lane, Symphony Lane. Apollonia moved out shortly afterwards, with Brook deciding that the family would do their own gardening. I have looked at this haphazardly taken photo so many times, asking myself if it started here. Was Alexandria the keeper of the beat, necessary to keep it all in rhythm? Was she unreplaceable because they didn’t know the correct time, resulting in unavoidable confusion about what was to be true priorities of the family?

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With the Sunset Room available, Johnny and Brook vacated the Sunrise Room, and, somewhat carelessly, allowed Mickey to move into the Sunrise Room. The question of choosing an heir had not been formally settled, but Mickey now took it for granted that it had. He quickly started wearing an aristocratic-looking outfit, and began rambling about how he was going to eclipse the achievements of every previous generation. But all he seemed to be doing was playing chess at his laptop, brooding by the windows, and admiring himself in the mirrors.

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While Mickey was beginning to display his true nature, Symphony had matured into a striking young woman. She had class and style, and despite being a diva, she was humble, gracious, and charming. Able to play any instrument, she declared music to be her true calling, but she was perfectly willing to partake in any activity required to run Memory Lane, whether it be gardening, cooking, nectar making, alchemy or riding.

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To clarify matters, my grandparents pushed for a marriage between Mickey and Becky Landgraab. Becky was down-to-earth, a friendly, nurturing girl who had been having a crush on Mickey for years, and whom they hoped could act as a counterweight to their brash youngster. Mickey didn’t hesitate to agree to an engagement, he even hung a picture, meant to represent her, over his bed. With that matter seemingly settled, Johnny and Brook confirmed Mickey as the heir, before both of their offspring headed for university.

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I really do not know how serious Mickey was about his relationship with Becky, but it is clear that, while at university, he met someone he found far more interesting: Esther Atkins. Esther was a vampire, and while she was still young, she had lived a very long time: She had even been married before, to some bloke named Spencer Mund, now long dead. Drifting sadly around campus without any plan or purpose, all Mickey needed to do to reel her in was to give her some attention.

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Mickey wasted no time bringing his new conquest home and terminating his relationship with Becky Landgraab. Poor Becky never got over the heartache, she died single and still miserable, and it took a major donation to repair of relationship with our neighbors the Landgraabs. Johnny was shocked that Mickey had brought a vampire into their mist, and he never really warmed to Esther, but Brook had no qualms, accepting her at once. With a wedding scheduled, the big remaining question was Symphony.

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Johnny’s mood had taken a dive after his mother died, and now, he clung to the daughter he adored, willing to go to any lengths to accommodate her staying at Memory Lane. He referred to her as “the light of his life”, and even talked about erecting a second house on the property. Mickey however, saw her as a threat to his own kingship. As long as she stuck around, she was a backup solution as an heir, and he would have none of that. Invoking “The rule of one,” that only one can stay, lain down by Alexandria when she had Johnny’s sister Katusha kicked out, he demanded Symphony’s immediate departure.

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Johnny argued against it to no avail. Brook, principled as always, supported Mickey, and Symphony packed her bags. Johnny always referred to that moment as “The day all joy died”, and after that day, he often complained that Memory Lane felt cold and dark, and his relationship with his son was damaged forever.
 
So, the choice had been made. The reckless rider was to have his way. While Johnny had been balanced by Brook, resulting in equal emphasis on arts, careers and horse racing, there would be no counterbalance to Mickey. My grandparents knew Alexandria, and if they made that choice, how can we, who come after them, who never knew the founder, question it? What choice do we have but to follow their beat, trusting that their change of drum was an informed decision, and not simply happenstance? Still, sometimes I think to myself that if Symphony had been the heir, we might have been poorer in trophies, but so much richer in every other way.

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Brook, and later, my mother, made sure that Symphony was frequently invited to festivities at Memory Lane, and she never declined an invitation, starting with her brother’s wedding. Her geeky boyfriend, Abraham Bachelor, whom she later married, also attended. Among the guests was also Leonardo Carson, Brook’s father, whom Mickey had managed to track down and invite. It didn’t turn out well: Brook hadn’t spoken to him for decades, and now refused to acknowledge his presence.

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When we experience Memory Lane as it exists today, it easy to fall into the trap of thinking that we are looking at a perfect conservation of Alexandria’s vision, but that is absolutely not the case. Brook remodeled the upper floors, adding the art studio and rearranging several rooms. To Alexandria, a room with a bed was a bedroom, so when Brook moved in, furnishings were very sparse. Every room was decorated by her, and she also added the basement swimming pool, the trophy room, the kitchen patio, and the nectar pavilion. The pavilion was added specifically to lift Johnny’s black mood after Symphony’s departure, enabling him to prepare for his races in a place that definitely wasn’t cold and dark.

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While Brook was the supreme organizer, Johnny was… Johnny. He was happy enough when around the horses, or when allowed to indulge his nonsensical jock urges, but around the house, he was a nuisance, picking arguments and moping around. When he finished his career as a sports agent and became a stay-at-home horseman, it got even worse. At one point, Brook threatened to have him lobotomized if he couldn’t make himself useful.

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Fortunately, she found another solution: Buying the sports center, and renaming it the “The Lane Activity Center”, she told Johnny to give the place a makeover and keep it buzzing. The makeover was beyond him, and once again required her hand, but she had added some much needed purpose to his life.

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If I make it sound like Johnny and Brook had marital problems, let me dispel that idea immediately. They were eternally faithful, and theirs was true love, of the kind that can only come from never hiding anything, and accepting, or even embracing, each other’s flaws. I never saw them have a serious argument, as he was like wax in her hands, and she was always his greatest fan when it came to horse racing.

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Our newlyweds… For now, sleeping happily under the portrait meant for Becky Landgraab. I think my mother knew very little about the life that awaited her at Memory Lane, and even less about her new husband. Realizing that she somehow had to make herself useful, she suggested to Brook that she would plant a new garden, and become a gardener. Brook agreed, and the green-thumbed, outdoors-loving, excitable vampire was soon toiling away, mostly at night, with seeds, plants and weeds.

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Across town, at 325 Oak Grove Road, someone was watching carefully as the Lanes were adjusting to the arrival of my mother. Years ago, Alexandria Lane had sent both his parents to the afterlife. The Moores were meant to be a vampire dynasty, and his mother, Mika Moore, had been Esther Atkins’ best friend at university. One of them had been the first, original vampire in Sim Nation. Rashawn Moore was very intrigued by Mickey Lane’s new wife…
Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 8 - A Different Drum, Part I
« Reply #33 on: August 19, 2017, 08:53:06 AM »
A Different Drum, Part II

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My father chose the horseman career as his first, giving him plenty of time to parade about town in his frock, proclaiming his greatness. The townsfolk had little love for him, and quickly branded him “The Horselord”.  A new weapon was available to The Horselord in his crusade for trophies: The first unicorn born at Memory Lane, Maestro. Mickey was convinced that the combination of his genius scientific mind, and a unicorn trained from scratch, would make his father’s accomplishments as a horseman seem trivial.

Mickey was systematic, and patient. Every morning, Maestro was taken on a long gallop across town and back. He did not skimp on training, spending a lot of time on next-door Hopalong Field, making sure Maestro could add Endurance Equine to his resume before even running an advanced race. He was a great believer in preparing for the internationals by winning lots of advanced races, so Maestro had 10 advanced wins under his belt before running his first international race. Before every race, Maestro would be well rested, fed, and groomed, while The Horselord himself would be fueled by a great meal, the tastiest nectar and a 7500 simoleon spa treatment. How could he possibly fail?

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My parents didn’t wait as long as their predecessors before having children. Soon, a creepy dark-haired girl, bearing the hallmarks of both fairy and vampire, was walking the halls, and she wasn’t alone. Her twin brother, also a hybrid, had the fortune of inheriting some of their mother’s features, most notably her hair, but he wasn’t very socially inclined. Notice who has the chair and who is standing. Like my father, I never liked playing second violin.

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To me, this photo will always symbolize my mother’s early years at Memory Lane. A cursory glance gives the impression that she looks as if she was born to be in that room, but look closer, at her face. That is not a happy woman. That is the face of an outsider, a vampire in a house full of fairies, a non-rider in a family obsessed with racing horses. The face of a woman whose husband has lost all interest in her as soon as she bore children, and who now spends nearly all of her time in the garden she planted, to hide both herself and her sorrow.

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It took a long time before anyone caught on to what was happening between my parents, and we never knew how bad it was. Years later, my mother told me what happened when she wanted to show off the gardening trophy she’d won. My father refused to look at it, preferring to brood by the window. After Esther had patiently waited for some sort of acknowledgement, he finally said that gardening trophies were for plantsims. After a couple of days, the trophy disappeared from their bedroom. After searching for it, my mother found it had been chucked into a storage room in the basement.

Most nights, Mickey slept in the laboratory, and in general, he did everything he could do ignore or overlook Esther. In desperation, she pleaded with him to have more children, but he laughed it off as if it was a bad joke.

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Johnny was completely oblivious to what was happening, engaged in his own battle to win international cross country races. While that proved difficult indeed, The Horselord was storming forward: When this picture was taken, Mickey had just won 9 international racing competitions in a row. Johnny was disorganized, often discovering that he had ridden off to battle in the wrong saddle, and Mickey thought him stupid, offering him no respect.

The two of them argued without end about all aspects of racing the horses, but in particular about race strategy. Johnny was a firm believer in going for broke, while Mickey was against it, preferring steady pace and taking risks. When Johnny let slip a comment that showjumping, not to mention cross country, was more challenging than racing, Mickey vowed that he would crush Johnny's number of wins in the cross country.

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Brook never really liked sculpting, but she approached that career with the same determination and demand for perfection as before. Except for 6 sculptures, everything was sold. After many failed attempts, she managed to complete the only sculptures that gave her any satisfaction: The pair of perfect Fab-Fabled Fillys.

Neither Esther’s situation, nor the racing-fuelled rivalry between her husband and son escaped her, and she now demonstrated why she had been made Master of the house. At an impromptu family meeting, she proclaimed two new laws, thereafter known as Brook’s first and second laws:

1. There shall be no training or racing of horses on Saturdays.
2. Every Saturday, there shall be a party at Memory Lane, with at least 4 invited guests, and with every non-working family member attending.

With Brook hacking away in her art studio, Esther in the garden, and Mickey and Johnny obsessing over the horses, life at Memory Lane was becoming dangerously inward-looking and unsocial, and Brook’s laws was meant to halt that trend. To this day, we still adhere to them. Now, Brook turned her attention to Esther.

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Realizing that Esther was using the garden as a refuge, Brook had the whole garden uprooted, telling my mother she had gardened enough. After providing Esther with some intensive charisma-tutoring, Brook set her on a career in politics. The result was remarkable: My mother was positively blooming, genuinely happy for the first time since arriving at Memory Lane. Little did we know that there was another reason for her happiness…

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When her self-imposed imprisonment at Memory Lane came to an end, it was only natural that Esther would meet people, especially in politics. Whether she met Rashawn Moore by accident, or by him seeking her out, I do not know, but she finally had someone giving her the attention she deserved. Rashawn was a widower, with three adult children of no particular promise, while Esther was craving for both love and more children. While there is no reason to doubt that my mother’s love for Rashawn was real, there is every reason to suspect that his motives weren’t entirely pure.

At this point, it may be prudent to recall how Kate Carson’s three children headed three different family branches, all paying homage to different ancestors. Chloe, Kate’s first daughter by Mike Acker, was the common originator of all Carsons, to whom Kate was almost a goddess. Alexandria, sharing her parentage with Chloe, had no great love for her mother, and washed her hands of the whole Carson issue by founding her own legacy. Clint, Rashawn’s father, and Kate’s only child by her first husband, Jack Carson, was a disciple of his long-dead father. When Kate claimed the Carson name for herself, by refusing to change her name to that of her second husband, Clint had, in furious protest, changed his name to that of his wife, Moore.

None knew the full story of Kate Carson’s life better than the Moores. While everybody else knew the glitzy part, starting with her rise to fame in Starlight Shores, the Moores kept her humble beginnings firmly in mind. When Kate failed as a chef in Monte Vista, it had been Jack who was the one taking care of their toddler Clint, while Kate took her first baby steps towards being a celebrity, hoping to impress Jalista Rivers and Gino Ferrari with her guitar skills. When Kate went to university, it was Jack Carson who paid for it, by doing handyman jobs around town. When Kate wanted to become a musician in Starlight Shores, it was Jack who sacrificed his career when they made the move.

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To Rashawn, the Moores were the victims of three great injustices. The first was Kate’s way of rewarding Jack for his sacrifices, by tossing him aside like some empty, crumpled juicebox. The second injustice was denying Clint his true inheritance, by allowing Chloe, the Acker-daughter, to inherit Villa Carsonia. The third, and by far the worst, was committed by that second Acker-daughter, Alexandria, by elevating herself to a modern-day Decima and passing judgement on his parents’ lifespan.

Most people thought the red sash Rashawn had worn since the death of his parents was simply a symbol of remembrance. How could they think otherwise? For years, he had played on the same sports team as Johnny Lane, while showing no signs of animosity. Throughout his adult life he had been diligently taking care of his wife and their three children, and he was viewed by all as a sensible family man with no passion for feuds. Little did they know that the sash also represented an oath of vengeance, against the Lanes.

Rashawn was a realist, fully aware that taking on the Lanes, with their vast resources, was a very tall order. Patiently, he waited, for Alexandria to die, for some possibility to act, and now, finally, his patience had been rewarded. There was a chink in the formidable Lane armor, in the form of Esther Lane. But his long wait had proved costly, as he was now running out of time. Bound by the lifespan oath enforced by the Lanes, he faced the choice of either embracing old age or bracing himself for a visit by the Lane family alchemist.

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No eyebrows were raised when a grey-haired Rashawn, without his red sash, moved into the Sunset Valley Retirement Home. He had always been a sensible man. What was he supposed to do, take on the mighty Lanes? Ridiculous… Now, he would fade away gracefully, to the tune of bingo machines, old goldies and the lamentations of Becky Landgraab.

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Another graduation, this time for the red-haired, red-winged hybrid Trenton, and his twin sister, yours truly. Trenton was a talented inventor, and soon left the household to marry Tanya McIrish, with which he later had two beautiful daughters. As for myself, I found adulthood to be a mixed blessing, with my hybrid “powers” being more a hindrance than a help, and I immediately rid myself of them, to the great consternation of my father. Perhaps the sole intention of his marriage to Esther had been to grant his children the trophy of her vampire abilities.

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During those days, I honestly believed that Memory Lane was the most glorious place that existed on earth, at least for a young equestrian such as myself. Did I mention that Brook was also a rider? Tamina, the mare that bred with Maestro, was trained by her, and Brook took her to two international victories. Tisiphone, the result of their breeding, became my steed, and some nights, we raced all 4 horses. On one magical occasion, we brought home 3 international trophies in a single evening.

Of course, our golden age of racing could not last. This picture was taken the night my grandparents honored their oath and took the grey hair. Monolith was getting old, and Brook never meant to ride for long. Soon, there’d be only two riders: My father and I.

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Even on Saturdays, when there was no racing, thanks to Brook’s first law, the house was buzzing, because of the parties. Symphony was a staple guest, and in a way, it was fitting that she passed away during one of those parties, many years later. She made it to Hit Movie Composer, and, playing her guitar in her favorite white dress, she was an extremely popular figure around town, known to most as The White Fairy. Some also referred to her as being the last of the Carsons, that line of black-haired women stretching back to Kate, all so vastly talented in the fine arts.

I feel that I’m so tempted to romanticize this period at Memory Lane, to say that it felt like a summer that would never end, but that would be the perspective of a very young woman who didn’t really know what was going on. What I saw as a well-rehearsed orchestra, performing so beautifully every day, thanks to Brook swinging her baton, was really a collection of selfish musicians thinking mostly about their solo careers. Brook thought she had kept them in line, but she didn’t see or hear everything, and a storm was about hit us, in full force.

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One day, Rashawn invited Johnny, his old teammate, to some event at the sports center for old sports stars with wives. Brook, unsurprisingly, preferred to sculpt instead. That was the last day we saw Johnny alive. Before we even knew Johnny was dead, pictures of my father’s hitherto secret “indiscretions” hit the social media. While we were reeling from the impact of the pictures, the mail arrived, carrying divorce papers signed by my mother, and a letter for change of address, informing us that she had now moved to 325 Oak Grove Road.

Rashawn throwing off his sash and moving to the retirement home had just been a ruse. A ruse to make us drop our guard completely, while a hired private investigator followed my father around, and Rashawn kept building his trap.

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While I was sobbing in a corner, and my father raved around in hysteria, Rashawn, now young again, probably from one our own potions, was back at 325 Oak Grove Road, frantically wooing my mother. How he rationalized Johnny’s demise I do not know, but Johnny was never a friend of my mother anyway. In a single day, he had brought the Lanes to their knees, evening out the score that had been so lopsided since Alexandria’s decimation. Still, he was in a desperate hurry, knowing that one threat was still at large, the most dangerous threat of all…

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Brook. While my father was talking complete nonsense, such as recalling Symphony, who by now was the mother of two adult Bachelor’s, to take over the inheritance from him, Brook just gave him a look as if he was a half-rotten mouse dragged in by a stray cat. She made one phone call, to a genie friend of hers, and started loading potions into her Motive Mobile, with such as an icy stare that she seemed more set on her course than a cruise missile.

I have no idea what went down when she arrived at 325 Oak Grove Road, but Rashawn Moore was not seen again, and Brook brought my mother back with her. Esther seemed very confused, and when I asked her about Rashawn Moore, she replied that she did not know who he was. Shortly afterwards, my father had no recollection of the women he had been depicted with (though the townsfolk never forgot). One of the skills Alexandria had passed on to Brook was how to use certain powerful phone apps.

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Wisely deciding that my parents needed some time apart after what had happened, Brook sent my mother back to university, to obtain a degree in Communications that would enable her to pick up her political career where she had left off.

A bit of much-needed humbleness had now crept into my father’s character, not just from the Rashawn debacle and his foolish affairs being exposed, but from combining a career as a scientist with horseracing. Johnny had completed two out-of-house careers while racing, and my father was now discovering that it wasn’t quite as easy as he had thought, and neither was winning the cross country.
 
Though he was still at heart a vain man, much too concerned with snobbery, the doubts that had started wearing away at his former cocksureness made him more approachable. There were some serious flaws in his philosophy regarding how to train and race the horses, but he was also right on some accounts, and I learned a lot from our discussions during the long afternoons on the nectar pavilion. In hindsight, I want to remember him as he was during this period, while he still harbored some hope of equaling his father’s achievements on the racecourse.

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When my mother returned, she was no longer a vampire. I suspect that Brook had implored her to cure herself, but when I asked, Esther simply said that she had missed her blue eyes and the taste of real food.

She seemed quite invigorated, and while re-embarking on her political path, she now also had a new passion: Online gaming. None of us understood what that was about until much later, when it became clear that she was friends with practically everyone, thanks to her gaming.

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While Brook took the grey hair, she kept her wings until the end, quaffing a potion when she felt it was time to join my grandfather. She did not value her contributions highly, characterizing herself as “A mediocre sculptor, a decent painter, and a failure as a matron.” She was always way too hard on herself. Rashawn hid his plans well, and Mickey was always flawed. Her cooking, alchemy and organizational skills alone make her a family legend in my view, not to mention her works of art.

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Having completed her sculpting career, Brook briefly returned to painting, and three works from her late period adorn the Sunset Room. Two are from a series of studies she did on the lighthouse, hanging on each side of the bed. The third, hanging over the desk, is a portrait of my beloved Tisiphone. Looking at those paintings, I know in my heart that the greatest artist in the history of Sunset Valley may have been born as a Carson, but that she died as a Lane.

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One strange consequence of all that had happened was that my parents had some sort of reconciliation. Mickey now slept in his own bed, and on occasion, I would see them playing pool or table tennis. Perhaps they were just keeping up appearances, for my sake, and later, for their grandchildren. There would never be any love between them, and both career-wise and emotionally, they were on completely different trajectories.

My mother made short work of her political career, propelling herself to the top through her great fundraisers and mighty network of friends. While the townsfolk had always had great respect for Brook, they positively loved Esther and her friendly, over-excited ways.

While his wife garnered sympathy for what had transpired in their marriage, there was little of that coming Mickey’s way. The Horselord was viewed with derision, and he soon discovered, to his horror, that winning the international cross-country races was every bit of the nightmarish grind Johnny had tried to warn him about. Weeks passed between his wins, and Maestro’s clock was gradually running out. Winning all those advanced races had turned out to be nothing but a waste of time. In the end, he got 4 cross-country wins, the same as his father, but Johnny’s plethora of showjumping wins dwarfed his own, meagre triumphs.

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My father’s later years were tragic to behold. Much like Esther had done at university, when he met her all those years ago, he drifted around Memory Lane with no plan or purpose, and no unicorn to take to battle. At that stage, he already knew that his daughter would eclipse him on the racetrack, and while he took some pride in my success, his failures weighed so much more.

My mother didn’t rest on her laurels. Endlessly positive, she was our guiding light, as she kept her great parties going while also completing her third career, as a nectar maker. She kept multiple rodents with silly, cuddly names, and frequently invited guests to crush at table tennis, a game where she had no equal.

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After Mickey was gone, I watched in amazement as the old woman returned to her roots, planting a garden to restock the ingredients she had used to make nectar. She even grew cheeses, burgers, steaks, and omni plants. She tutored my son, so that he was able to take responsibility for the garden, and then, simply to be as close to her grandchildren as possible, started a new career, as a teacher. When they graduated, she was close to topping out that career as well, but that was enough, even for Esther Lane.
 
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Before choosing, as the first Lane and to the joy of the townsfolk, to see out her days at the Sunset Valley Retirement Home, some claimed to have seen Esther at the graveyard. She always carried a portable piano, and witnesses claimed to have seen her jamming with a golden ghost, in the shape of Rashawn Moore.

Since I am, unfortunately, a creature in the mold of her father, rather than her mother, Esther was always a source of wonder and bewilderment to me. If had suffered half of the misfortunes that befell her, I would have crumbled, but she just kept on reinventing herself, coming back stronger every time. I also suspect that she was far more clever than we thought, and that her forgetting Rashawn was just an act.

Esther was willing to abandon her family in her search for love, running into the arms of the man who had disposed of her father-in-law. Later generations might see that as an unforgivable disgrace, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Brook chose to hide her portrait as a vampire, replacing it with one taken later. What would my mother have done if Rashawn had gotten Brook too? I wouldn’t dare to speculate, but I respect the fact that she, unlike Jack Carson, was not willing to sacrifice herself for the sake of someone else. Horse-obsessed, we were blindly beating our own drum at Memory Lane, but my mother also followed a beat of her own: Her heart.

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Esther was our family photographer in those days, and when she passed away at the retirement home, I received her old camera. That’s when I found out just how unrelenting her search for love had been. On that camera were a bunch of pictures, some of an intimate nature, showing her in the company of a dark-haired vampire beauty. Presented with this mystery, I started to dig, trying to find out where the pictures had been taken. After some searching, I found the house, here in Sunset Valley, and tracked down all of its records.

The house in question was rented by Diane Quintana, after my mother returned from her second spell at university. Diane Quintana had been registered as a student during my mother’s first foray at university, so they had known each other for a lifetime. Judging from the dates of the photographs, and the dates Diane paid for her monthly membership at the Lane Activity Center, it seems that Diane only stayed in Sunset Valley intermittently, each time being the benefactor of a considerable transfer of money from my mother’s bank account.

Following the death of Esther, there are no records of Diane Quintana anywhere. My mother was a popular woman, and doesn’t strike me as someone who would have to pay for love, so I suspect there might be more to this. In any case, it is clear that Diane Quintana was the reason my mother’s drum was beating so vigorously during the later stage of her long and illustrious life.

Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 9 - A Different Drum, Part II
« Reply #34 on: August 26, 2017, 06:55:13 AM »
A Bird On the Roof

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His mind still buzzing with the contents of the book, Daniel tried to summarize a bit. Just a few anecdotes about Alexandria, and nothing on the girl from the nursery. That was a bit disappointing, but at least he had a solid grasp on the two generations that had preceded Alyssina, and the circumstances surrounding the so-called shrine.

What had Alecia said, when he gave her the news about the text on the stone? Something about how strange it was that Alexandria hadn’t torn the portrait of Rashawn to shreds. Alexandria had to be truly pragmatic concerning the past to tolerate it being there, considering what Rashawn had done to her son and heir, and yet she spoke of setting suns and sweeping aside the dreams of previous generations. It seemed like new skeletons kept falling out of every closet he opened, and the very latest addition was Diane Quintana. She'd have to stand in line and await her turn.

The author, Alyssina, came off as more than a bit fatalistic, with her musings on following beats and paths and how she was “in the mold of her father”. She seemed able to put herself in someone else’s shoes and didn’t sound like a psychopath, but people can change… He pulled up the portraits and inscriptions belonging to generation IV on his phone.

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Alyssina Lane, Horsewoman (13CC, 13SJ, 2 RA), Author (39 books). Mother of John and Jack. She looked burdened, somehow. What happened to you, Alyssina? Did you write too many books? Did someone disappoint you? Did you start doubting the path you were on, to such a degree that you had to bring back the founder herself?

Jasen Goth, Ghost Hunter and Master Thief. Father of John and Jack. Nobody had ever mentioned Jasen Goth. Another mystery, or just another male second violinist? How many were there? Hm. Perhaps Matthew Carson hadn’t been completely off, when he had claimed that the women where the true stars of their lineage. Hopefully, Jack could shed some light on both Jasen Goth and his wife, but he’d give him some time before he dragged him back to Moonlight Falls. It was time for Daniel to take care of other matters first, such as settling into his new job, and getting rid of that debt…

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Danielle: Have you heard about the announcement today?
Daniel: No. What announcement?
Danielle: They are opening the new library, which has been paid for by a rich fellow, Flash something…
Daniel: Flash Jefferson? The music producer?
Danielle: Yes, exactly. He is going to open a club as well. He is doing an announcement at the library today, at 4 PM. As a new PI, introducing yourself to someone wealthy might pay dividends.
Daniel: Good idea mom, I’ll check it out after the ceremony. Now, let me show you something…

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Danielle: Whose car is that? It looks very expensive.
Daniel: Mine. I met my grandfather, and he gave it to me, as a birthday present. It would cost over 100 000, if you bought it new.
Danielle: My goodness… I thought your grandfather was dead.
Daniel: No, he’s… in the wind. Alecia doesn’t like to talk about him.
Danielle: I see. I’m happy you got to see him, Daniel.
Daniel: So am I, but I don’t need two cars, and that car is quite special. It was once bought by Kate Carson, so I don’t want to sell it.
Danielle: That woman Alecia keeps blabbering about? Then you should give the car to her.
Daniel: No. I want to give it to you, hoping we can forget about those 4000.
Danielle: Of course we can, Daniel. Thank you very much!
Daniel: You’re welcome.
As his mother proceeded to give him a hug, he felt there was no need to mention the fact that Alecia would probably have had the car run off a cliff, rather than set foot in it. Or that Alecia would also appreciate that Daniel preferred the car he got from her son, rather than that of her ex-husband…

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Graduation. It didn’t look quite as grand as those depicted in Alyssina’s book, and it didn’t feel that way either. He had hoped to catch the eye of Maria, if nothing else, by celebrating his rubbish grades with an ironic howl, but he quickly gave up. Maria only had eyes for her sister, and his parents for each other. Mercifully, Alecia soon lost her patience and called for the limo.

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Daniel had already wrapped up his first case, a very small one, which turned out to be nothing but paranoia on the part of Dahlia Goodfellow, but he hadn’t been comfortable doing it. He had felt like a hobo in stolen clothes while he searched through garbage cans, worrying about how he might appear, and uncertain about what to do and say. If he wanted to become more than the boy most likely to burn down his own house, he had to do an Esther Lane and redefine himself. No more looking over his shoulder, and being rattled by any woman he encountered. He had to behave and sound as if he was the best and most experienced PI in existence, born to do the job. From now on, Daniel Carson would not be pussyfooting around...

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Flash: Yo, listen up y’all, Flash Jefferson in da house. Ya know, I ain’t no bummed out front, I bring those dead presidents, for real. We is gonna bling up dis hood, and I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout the cuts, but the 411’s, like this lie-berry. We went gothic on dis, and I hope y’all dig. T’morra, we open a new thang: The Moonflight Baller.
Billy: The Moonlight Ballroom, Flash.
Flash: Don’t step on my game, dawg!
Flash: Bring ‘em hood rats and yo A-game to the Baller, I ain’t messin with ya, dat place is sick, a’ight? Flash is packing, so he’s got one more bomb for y’all, and it ain’t da rollers. A’ight, dawg, do dat thing, I’ll bounce.

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Billy Buffer: Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get ready to muuuummmmmmmble! Introducing, from the depths of the mysterious orient, the one, the only, the Master of Magic, Lo Pan!

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The doors of the library opened, and out came an oriental-looking dude in a yellow robe, taking up position on the stairs.
Billy Buffer: Also introducing… The unfathomable, the dazzling, the death-defying, the Wonder of the East… Bai Jiejing!
While Buffer grabbed the mike stand and hurried off, Lo Pan stepped forward, tossed a lemon to the crowd and asked them to inspect it.

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As there was no sign of the second person introduced, some suggested that the lemon was Bai Jiejing, and after an inspection and some hilarity, it was thrown back to Lo Pan. The oriental mystic didn’t laugh, though. He gave them a menacing look, before announcing “Look…. Up!”, tossing the lemon high into the air.

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As their eyes followed the lemon, they became aware of an explosion of movement even higher up. A black-clad figure was back-flipping off the highest point of the roof, and plummeting downwards, towards the lemon and the narrow opening in the roofs below. The figure turned and twisted, there was a another flash of movement mid-air, but the whole thing happened so fast that Daniel barely had time to look up, much less register the details. Poor Bill Misfit, with his big hat, didn’t see a thing.

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The figure landed somehow landed softly, almost with a rubbery hush, and the sound of the two halves of the lemon hitting the stone stairs were considerably louder. Gasps of amazement escaped the small crowd, a satisfied grin spread across the face of Lo Pan, while the figure, whom they could now identify as a woman, quickly got to her feet.

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Before they had any time to get a decent look at her, she jumped up onto the nearest ledge, before leaping off it, again exposing herself to a frightening fall. Like a parkour-runner, she rolled upon landing, before sprinting towards City Hall.

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Lo Pan now grabbed their attention delivering a short blurb about how honored they were, to be invited to Moonlight Falls by their generous host. Declaring that he would be saving his magic for the show tomorrow, he told them that the show would have no attendance fee, and promised that they would see magic tricks they had never seen before. Finally, he pointed towards the clock tower at City Hall, and exclaimed: “Looks like it’s about time.”

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Straining their necks, they could make out the figure of Bai Jiejing, silhouetted against the illuminated clock-face, and climbing even higher. Some of the spectators walked off when they discovered that Lo Pan had left, while others kept looking at Bai Jiejing until she became indistinguishable from the rapidly darkening clock tower roof.

Discovering that he was the only one left, Daniel reasoned to himself that whatever goes up, must come down, and that a woman of her capabilities was worth a closer look.

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She could see him as she climbed down, and she didn’t make any attempt to avoid him, quite the contrary. Upon landing, she stood as halfway in combat-mode while her arresting, rose-colored eyes quickly scanned their surroundings, like she was looking for more than one assailant, before proceeding to map every inch of him. For a second, he feared that he’d end up like the lemon, and he instantly knew that there was more to Bai Jiejing than just climbing and acrobatics. As her eyes came to rest on his, and her posture loosened imperceptibly, it was clear she had concluded that he was no threat.
Daniel: Good evening, rosebud. Dan Carson, PI. I’m investigating a case of serious neglect.
Bai: I think you have me confused with someone else.
Daniel: I don’t think so. This case revolves around a beautiful woman, whom no one have seen fit to take out to dinner, not to mention arrange transport for. Not even her… husband?
Bai: Brother.
Daniel: Neglect, either way. Come on, let’s get you something to eat, you must be ravenous after that climb.

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Bai: Could you see me at all up there? We didn’t think it would get dark this fast.
Daniel: You’re hard to overlook, even up there and in black. Was it hard?
Bai: Wàn shì kāi tóu nán. All things are difficult before they become easy.
Daniel: If you say so. Ok doll, someplace warm, or someplace private?
Bai: Private, but public, please.
Daniel: I know just the spot.

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Bai: I like the mountains here, it reminds me of home.
Daniel: You surprise me. I thought you were a real cowgirl from Appaloosa Plains.
Bai: Are you the town funnyman, the town charmer, or both?
Daniel: Me? I don’t even have a girlfriend, rosebud, just a disposition for exotic and dangerous women.
Bai: Who says I’m dangerous?
Daniel: Your eyes, and everything else.

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Bai: What’s that sound? Are we close to the falls?
Daniel: Very close. I’m not completely broke, you know. You could have ordered something else.
Bai: I need to think about my figure. Besides, this is healthy, and good.
Daniel: What can we expect tomorrow? Will you carry the show again, or will your brother step up? He was pretty tame today.
Bai: You’ll see more of my brother. He’s a good magician.
Daniel: Where is this show of yours taking place, at the new club?
Bai: The show is outdoors. We’ll be at the Ballroom later, mingling.
Daniel: I might step on your toes when we dance.
Bai: I expect nothing less.

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Daniel: So, what do you do the rest of the year? There aren’t that many well-paid opportunities for twin acts like yours.
Bai: I travel a lot, doing some shows, some representation, and other things.
Daniel: Other things? Don’t try telling me you run around selling Tupperware.
Bai: I didn’t say that.
Daniel: No, but there’s a lot you aren’t saying, doll.
Bai: Ah. Such as?

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Daniel: Let me tell you what I think. You handle a fork just as well as chopsticks. Your English is a mix of continental and new world, with no hint of a Chinese accent. Maybe you travel a lot, but I think you’ve been educated here, probably as a physical major at Evansdale. You’re athletic, disciplined, you know Sim Fu, and I think you’re a vegetarian. There are no rings under your gloves, and back in China, there’s no pitter-patter from the feet of small wonders of the east. You’re so dedicated to your real job that you’re not even thinking about marriage or children.
Bai: You assume quite a lot, Mr Carson. What do you imagine is this all-important real job of mine?
Daniel: I’m still working on that, but I’ll get there.

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Bai: Let’s change the subject, to you. What’s your story? Do you have a family? What are your dreams?
Daniel: I’m no hot-shot, just a small-town PI, shorn of dreams and ambition. I used to be Daniel Lane, a spoiled rich kid, but…
Bai: Lane?
Daniel: Yeah. Know the name? Perhaps you’ve heard about Alexandria Lane. She spent some time in Shang Simla.
Bai: Yes, I think I’ve heard her name.
Daniel: Anyhow, that part of our life is over, because of her, so my parents, my grandmother, and myself, have started over, here in Moonlight Falls.
Bai: Because of her?
Daniel: Mhm. She took all we had. I hope to track her down, somehow.
Bai: Ah. I see… Well, I better be getting back, tomorrow will be a very long day.
Daniel: Let me show you something first.

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Daniel: Now you can say you’ve been to Moonlight Falls. The moonlight could be better, I guess.
Bai: It’s very nice. This is a beautiful town.
Daniel: Don’t start crying now, I’ve misplaced my handkerchief. See the house over there?
Bai: Yes?
Daniel: That’s our house, rosebud. We can’t keep meeting like this, it isn’t proper. I should introduce you to my parents.
Bai: Is self-delusion a requirement for being a PI?
Daniel: Mandatory.

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Bai and her brother had rented a small house on the outskirts of town. There was no sign of Lo Pan as he dropped her off, without any great ceremony, but she did offer a piece of advice.
Bai: Don’t get in too deep tomorrow.
Having been a slightly obtuse gentleman throughout the evening, he let her have the last word, and tried to keep her obscure message in mind. As soon as he’d met her eyes, he'd known that he could forget about getting romantic with Bai Jiejing. She was probably completely unattainable, but it had been a fun exercise anyway, and he’d keep at it tomorrow. She was very intriguing, she knew the name Alexandria Lane, and might know more about her activities in China, recent or not. Perhaps it was time to do a background check on both Bai and her brother.

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While Lo Pan's name only came up in connection with their magic show, which seemed to be a recent invention, Bai had been operating under her own name previously, to great acclaim. The woman could certainly climb, and, apparently, take a fall. The article was dated years ago, and there was no later mention of her. How many times had Bai been resurrected by her brother? Enough times to turn the prospect of dying from being difficult to being easy? Whatever Flash was paying them, what were the chances that this tag team was here just to celebrate the opening of a library and a dance club? 
Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 10 - A Bird On the Roof
« Reply #35 on: September 03, 2017, 07:54:37 AM »
Acts of Disappearance

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Following the traditions established at Memory Lane, Danielle chose to give birth at home. The emergence of his sister, in the room they had dubbed Alecia’s Lounge, was the most colorful event Daniel had ever witnessed. His own birth, in some toned-down room at Memory Lane, had probably been drab in comparison. Alecia duly pointed out that it was the first girl born to the family since Alyssina, and once again Daniel was reminded of “The Impeccable” and his musings on how the women were the carriers of talent in their lineage.

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When Danielle declared that they could not live in House Celeste without a Celeste, Daniel felt a hot-headed pang of jealousy. If this was her house, should he start looking for some place new to live? She had never had her home ripped away from her, or lived on a lawn. To her, Memory Lane would never be anything but a fairy tale, but she would be placed first in line? Recalling Alyssina’s book, and the story of Mickey and Symphony, still fresh in mind, the pang died as quickly as it had been born. No, he wouldn’t be like Mickey. He would never begrudge his little sister anything, even the house. If he had lived on a lawn once, he could do it again, if he had to.

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Alecia: The sparkles are green. My God. She’ll have green wings, like the first generations. And brown eyes, like Kate, and Chloe, and…
Daniel: Brook had white wings, grandma.
Alecia: Green, until her father left her. Then white. Does she have any hair?
Danielle: She’s too young to have hair Alecia, you know that.
Alecia: If it’s black, you better be prepared.
Daniel: For what?
Alecia: Something extraordinary, one way or the other.
Danielle: Don’t be silly Alecia, she’s just a baby, and what she becomes isn’t important. Only that we love her.

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The nursery had been hastily, but thoroughly prepared, and the presence of horse- and unicorn-toys indicated that Danielle had taken an active role. Alecia could hardly take her eyes off the little girl, and further bickering ensued between the two women when she insisted that she thought she could see some strands of black hair. It didn’t get any better when Alecia suggested that Danielle should rethink the name, with Celeste being a blue color, and the girl having brown eyes. It certainly looked as though Celeste Carson would not be lacking attention…

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And with Flash Productions, the hits, they ain’t stoppin’! This next tune was hammered up by a local band, which then quit and sold their demo tape for nuthin’. Here’s DeAndre Wolfe with “Black Holes”!

You’re the king of spray-paint nation,
master of your own fixation,
high on your shapes of inflation,
not noticing your stagnation.
In your black-white imagination,
the tremors are just a vibration.
There’s a massive alien invasion
while you’re tagging the train station…


So, Tristesse had a hit, and sold it for nothing? Daniel chuckled to himself at the thought as he passed the new Moonlight Ballroom. Flash had unceremoniously levelled Bell’s Barbell House to make room for it, and rumors said he was in the process of bulldozing both the Red Velvet Lounge and Varg’s Tavern, to eliminate competitors to his new ballroom. Meanwhile, a new gym was under construction, and several other new buildings. Maybe there’d be more than one grand opening, but for now, all eyes would be on rosebud and her brother.

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The Bandstand, situated next to City Hall, was another Flash-sponsored attraction, and Daniel noted that the man himself was among the audience on the left-hand side. Many seats were empty, probably due to the fact that this was their third show of the day. Daniel mixed himself a drink at the free bar, while Bai was doing contortions on top of a stupidly high pillar, and Lo Pan blabbered about how some might find their show slightly discomforting.

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Among the audience on the right-hand side were more familiar faces. Jackson had been eager to get away from all the fuss surrounding Celeste, and Waylon Wolff was also on the back row. In the front row, Daniel could see Daydream’s mother, and a new-look Tristan, with short hair and a mind-numbingly old-fashioned outfit, brought a sardonic smile to Daniel’s face.

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Soon, the show got going, with Bai doing acrobatic ball-balancing stunts on top of the stupidly high pillar. Several times, both she and her ball verged on the edges, provoking gasps from the audience. Some of her stunts seemed so dangerous that a few among the audience couldn’t stomach watching them.

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Having seen her in action, and read her climbing resume, Daniel wasn’t very surprised when she eventually tumbled off the edge, screaming theatrically throughout her long fall, before plunging into the pool. She produced a splash of the kind that has to hurt, but made no effort to resurface.

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While a camera and screen projected her image, standing motionless on the bottom of the pool, Lo Pan launched into a long speech about the four elements. Several minutes passed while he elaborated on how water, the source of all life, was the most powerful of the elements, able to eventually overcome all the others.

Daniel felt himself becoming gradually uneasy with the whole séance, and was tempted to spoil the whole thing by rushing onto stage and pushing him into the pool, before diving down to get Bai up. How much pain would Lo Pan put her through, while he just pranced around in a fancy suit, jabbering? He tried telling himself that it was the drinks doing the thinking, and somehow managed to remain seated.

Lo Pan stated that Bai was in no danger, as their family was a prominent line of mystics, a line that had mastered the element of water hundreds of years ago. Bai would become one with the water, he declared, while he wound bend it to his will. To demonstrate this ability, he stepped into the pool and started walking around on the surface, astonishing the audience in the process. “About time you did something,” Daniel murmured to himself.

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When the camera could longer pick up Bai in the pool, Lo Pan pompously pronounced that his sister had become one with the water, and that he would have to bend the elements to free her. Going into a long, trance-like incantation, full of Chinese words and mentions of water and air, he proceeded to gracefully move his arms up and down, levitating himself.

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As he rose upward, a tuft of white hair broke the surface at the other end. Then, she gradually arose from the water, in the shape of a blue ghost, evoking mutters from the stunned spectators. Wisp-like, she hovered unto dry land, before capping off the act by doing a deep bow, in coordination with her brother.

While the stage was reorganized, and ghost-Bai disappeared behind it, Daniel asked himself if she had just died for the sake of their performance, and in that case, was there any limit to her self-control? The thought was so unsettling that he had to push it away by concluding that it was just a magic trick.

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While Bai enjoyed a well-deserved break, Lo Pan literally took the heat, by conducting a spellcasting duel against a replica of himself. At first, one could keep track of who was the copy, but as the two figures started twirling around against a hall-of-mirrors background, it got rather confusing, and when one of the figures disintegrated in the end, everybody had lost track.

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The final act was the watery grave, the trick that almost finished off Alecia when she was a magician. This time, it was Lo Pan who had to hold his breath, and it didn’t end well. When the Grim Reaper appeared on stage to collect his motionless body, still stuck in the Box of Danger, several members of the audience were visibly shocked. The presence of two boxes alerted Daniel to the fact that the trick probably wasn’t over yet.

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As Bai, standing beside the grave of her brother, was crying her heart out, she also declared that the show had to go on. Honor dictated that she would have to enter the second box and finish the act, she said, sobbing in between. To loud protests, she dried her tears and walked over to the second box, barely pausing before entering it.

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They could see her holding her breath just before the water went white, and the box started shaking. Some impressionable members of the audience, including Jackson, were now openly lamenting her decision, fearing that she too would die. When the box door swung open, Bai had disappeared, and in her place was an ice statue, in the exact posture that they had last seen her. By now, with a grave and an ice statue on stage, and no sign of the performers, most of the audience was completely bewildered, and they only calmed down when Lo Pan’s voice emerged from a loudspeaker.

Lo Pan: We are both well, of course, and we hope you enjoyed the show. The evening is still young, and we will soon proceed to the Moonlight Ballroom, where we hope you will all join us. Thank you for attending our performance.

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Taking the time to grab another one from the bar, and a snack from the neighboring festival grounds, Daniel found the ballroom to be buzzing when he arrived. Seeing Bai in a silvery silk dress, he immediately made his way towards her, but was quickly intercepted by Waylon Wolff. Waylon wanted him to take on a case, settling the matter of who were the founders of Moonlight Falls, the Wolff’s or the Van Gould’s.

Daniel listened with one ear while scanning the premises. Alecia had risen to the occasion, and was happily chatting away with Gladsten, and he could see some pink-clad woman, probably Cheri Givens, trying to put her charms on Flash. Suraya Younan, whom the rumors said had been rejected by the model agencies on account of being “too curvy”, was among the dancers. The band seemed pretty good, and included a female piano player who seemed to have caught the interest of Lo Pan. He saw Bai answer the phone, with a slightly startled look on her face.

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Waylon: …know it may be impossible to settle the matter, but a positive outcome for my family might do wonders. If Ayden can be convinced that we are the founders, he'll buckle with regard to me marrying Emelie. If we aren't the founders, well... I’m ready to take that risk. Will you talk to Pappy?
Daniel: Huh? Yeah… I can do that.
Waylon: So you’ll take the case? What is your fee?
What the… Lo Pan and Bai were leaving? Something was happening, and he’d better spring into action.
Daniel: I’ll take the case, we’ll discuss the fee later.

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Running down the stairs, he managed to grab hold of her as she strode towards the door. Her arm, all muscle and sinews, quickly pulled free of his grip, as if his fingers were made of rubber, but at least she stopped, and faced him.

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Daniel: You owe me a dance, rosebud. And I have questions that need answering.
Lo Pan: We don’t have time for this, Bai.
Bai: We have to go, Mr Carson, there’s no time.
Daniel: You’ll make time. Has Alexandria Lane visited Shang Simla lately, like in the last 40-50 years?
Bai: What? No…
She kept looking over his shoulder, as if something was happening behind him.
Daniel: What did she do there all those years ago? What have you heard?
Bai: Listen, Dan… You shouldn’t always believe what your eyes and ears tell you.
Daniel: What is that supposed to mean?
Bai: You should have heeded my warning. I’m sorry.
Daniel: About what?
Bai: Your wings.
Lo Pan: He should never have had them to begin with.

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His wings? He flexed his back, feeling for that familiar response of those wings, but there was nothing. He pulled his arm behind his back and felt it, up and down. No wings. What was this, another magic trick? What about… He tried using his auras, one after the other, but it just wasn’t happening. He was no longer a fairy. Had they done this? How? Why? What did Lo Pan mean by his remark? He couldn’t just let them get away with this…

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Figuring they had to pick up some stuff from the house they rented, he drove towards it, but he was too late. A souped-up pickup soon thundered past him in the opposite direction. She was driving, and she wasn’t pushing the accelerator lightly. He tried spinning the aging Stallion around, but he immediately realized that it lacked the speed to follow their muscled-up pickup. Sighing, he turned the car towards their house again. If he couldn’t catch them, at least he could investigate the place where they’d been holed up.

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Breaking into the house paid few dividends. He couldn't find any trace of them, not even a scrap of paper in the garbage bin. They must have been prepared for that call, baggage at the ready. While searching the house, he could hear a car pulling up outside. Were they coming back, already? No. Peering through the blinds, he could see a townie unloading a barrel from a white pickup. Hm! Interesting.

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The man seemed unpleasantly surprised when Daniel burst through the front door, and he struggled to hide the irritation that was present in both his face and his voice.
Daniel: Who are you then, and what are you doing?
Man: Who are you? You don’t live here.
Daniel: Dan Carson, PI. I’m investigating our foreign visitors.
Man: On whose behalf?
Daniel: None of your concern. Are you going to talk, or do I have to start following you around too?
James: Hmpf. My name is James Hoppcraft. I’m delivering these barrels.
Daniel: What’s in them?
James: Nothing, as far as I can tell. I have no idea why they want them, I’m just doing a pick-up job.
Daniel: Where did you pick them up?
James: The junkyard. Now, will you let me get on with my job?

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Hoppcraft was clearly not in a talkative mode, and Daniel just watched as he unloaded the second barrel from the truck. As he drove off, he took a closer look at the barrels. They were empty, but they hadn’t been empty for long, and their previous content was still emitting a noxious odor. Someone had tried rubbing off mud and bits of grass from the barrels, but a few spots remained. Not long ago, these barrels had been laying down.

Could the barrels somehow be connected to him losing his fairy powers? Had others been affected too? Where the barrels simply a part of a crazy, cancelled trick, where they had planned to go over the falls, daredevil-style? Where they connected to the phone call and their sudden departure? He’d better get a chemist to analyze what had been in them…

Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 11 - Acts of Disappearance
« Reply #36 on: September 08, 2017, 04:28:44 PM »
Double-barreled Anger

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the power outage at the Starlight Shores City Government Complex was just the beginning. Having disabled the alarms and communications systems by cutting the power, the assailants infiltrated the complex from above, by repelling down from a helicopter. An inside source has informed us that 8 guards were disabled, before the two attackers proceeded to raid a supposedly impenetrable storage room, making off with a large cache of Tiberium. According to our source, experiments designed to convert Tiberium into a source of power have ground to a complete halt as a result. It is suspected that agents of a foreign government were behind the attack.
 
Yeah, that sounded like the handiwork of a duo he had encountered… He had half suspected that Bai might be some sort of gun for hire, and it was only natural that her brother was part of it. He could picture her on point, doing crazy moves in her catsuit, fully prepared to pay the ultimate price, as long as brother had her back. But if their magic show was just a cover, why were they so willing to blow that cover for the sake of curing occults? It seemed like a petty thing to do for such a high-flying pair, though Lo Pan had indicated that the matter was of personal significance to him.

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It had been a busy morning. Social media were buzzing, and it had soon become clear that around half the occults in town had been cured. Even before Jackson showed up without his wings, the communal brainstorming had revealed how it had happened: The drinks at the bar where they’d had their show had been spiked with potent cure. Not enough to cure anyone immediately, but sufficient amounts that anyone who frequented that bar more than once would be cured in a matter of hours. The bar had been popular, and over the course of their three shows, had hit a wide audience. Many families were affected, and tempers were running high.

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Calling Dennis Younan, he’d found a chemist willing to analyze what had been in the barrels, for a fee, of course. Following up on Waylon’s case, he called Pappy Wolff, and was promptly told that further inquiry into the matter of the town foundation would have to wait until spring, as important evidence had now been obscured by the sudden snowfall. The temporary loss of one case was immediately compensated by acquiring a new case, one provided by a man indignant at the recent events.

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The man in question was none other than Ayden Van Gould. An eager spectator at the show, Tristan was among the victims of the cure, and that had spurred his father into action. Daniel was puzzled by the identity crises many seemed to have suffered following the loss of their occult powers. He felt just fine being normal, and didn’t really miss being a fairy. He had expected Alecia to make a point of him not deserving his wings, since he rarely remembered to use his auras, but she’d been roosting in her bedroom all day.

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Emelie: Hi Tristan!
Tristan: Hi sis.
Ayden: My darling… Please, just a second… She doesn’t need to hear this…
For a man having just lost his precious occult heritage, and dressed for the wrong century to boot, Tristan was looking inappropriately smug, but it didn’t last very long. As soon as his daughter was out of the door, Ayden opened fire.
Ayden: Some fathers are blessed with decent sons, but I have not been so lucky. This cretin, you’ve gone to school with him, so you probably know how useless he is…
Tristan: Father…!
Ayden: Yes? What did you expect? That I would sing the praises of someone who has never managed to do anything but make a fool of himself? And now you’ve done it again!

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Tristan: Why are you blaming me for this? Half the town got hit!
Ayden: This is just the latest of your failures. Look at you, you’re supposed to be my heir?! We could make you a vampire again, but you don’t deserve it. You couldn’t even make it through school! Instead you wallowed around town with your long hair and your stupid guitar…
Tristan: I wrote a hit song! A hit! If you hadn’t...!
Ayden: Which you practically gave away! To that buffoon! You have no business acumen, absolutely none! If hadn’t stopped that debacle, how…

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Tristan: If you hadn’t stopped it, I’d have made it! I had talent!
Ayden: All you had was bad make-up and a stupid hat. Now that Waylon is cured, I see no reason why Emilie shouldn’t be my heir. She can marry Waylon, they can live here, and maybe he can help me with the business instead of you.
Tristan: Shut up! I will prove myself! I will!
Ayden: No, you won’t. We’ll stick him behind a desk where he can’t do any harm, pushing meaningless papers around. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing anyway.
Tristan: I can’t listen to this! I’m leaving!!

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Ayden: Please do, we have adult business to discuss. I’m so sorry, Mr Carson. He’s a spoiled brat, and I should have put him in a punch clock job when he became a teen, instead of letting him run around acting the town fool. I used to punch a clock myself, in my early days, when working at the sawmill. There’s nothing like good, honest work when it comes to character-building!
Daniel: You may be right.
Ayden: Speaking of honest work, this hop-hop character, Jefferson hasn’t done muc…

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Daniel: I think it is called hip-hop.
Ayden: Is it? Well, no matter. I want him investigated.
Daniel: Ok…
Ayden: I have no objections to him buying up property. Frankly, I’ve made a pretty penny from his buying spree, but him hiring entertainers that cures half the town, including my son, is a different matter entirely.
Daniel: What would you like me to find out?
Ayden: His role in this mass curing. I find it hard to believe that these… easterners did this entirely of their own accord.

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Daniel: Have you talked to the police?
Ayden: I have, and they're of no use. Curing supernaturals is not considered a crime, unfortunately. I want you to get hold of any and all documentable communication he might have had with those people. Don’t tread lightly. Scare him, get into his computers, and make him talk. My lawyers will have your back.
Daniel: No pussyfooting, hm?
Ayden: Exactly.
Daniel: You got it.

While there was some undeniable entertainment in seeing Tristan squirm, Daniel breathed more easily once he was out of there. Compared to the Van Gould mansion, even Memory Lane had felt modern and uplifting.

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Flash Jefferson’s place was on the same side of the river, just a short drive down the road, but very remote in terms in style, and, it seemed, not immediately accessible.
Man: You lost, punk? Get outta here.
Daniel: I need to talk to Flash. You are?
Bone: Bone Dawg. I’m dog, ya the bone, see?
Daniel: I see. I’m Dan Carson, PI. Tell Flash I’m here.
Bone: Ya deaf, or ya wanna lose some teeth?

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Maybe it was his hot head, or maybe it was the fact that he was on his first major case, hired by a client offering solid backing and plenty of cash, but in any case, he wasn’t going to let Bone Dawg stand in his way.
Flash: Staying alive, stay... Huh? What tha…! Motha… Bone! Bone!!
Daniel: Bone is taking a well-earned nap.
Flash: I’m callin’ the puh-lice, this ain’t…
Daniel: Police don’t care, Flash. Half of them got cured, they hate you already.

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Flash: What?! I didn’t do nuthin’!
Daniel: No? You hired them, didn’t you?
Flash: Ya ungrateful sons of… Flash spreadin’ them presidents is all cool, but now ya pointin’ them fingahs, ‘cause somethin’ blew up! You their dawg, ain’t you?
Daniel: I’m a PI, here to find out the truth. If you know what’s best for you, you better talk.
Flash: Puh, you and all ‘em ain’t nothin’! You gonna get got when Flash gets ‘em hooders up’ere!

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Daniel: Nice house, Flash. Shame what'll happen to it.
Flash: Huh?
Daniel: Whoa, that’s a big TV. Could have lots of fingerprints, I’ll have to impound it as evidence.
Flash: No, ya didn’t. Ya get outta here!
Daniel: I’ll be here for some time, Flash, documenting and collecting evidence. Better get used to it.

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Flash: Ya can’t film in here!
Daniel: Part of my job. When the fires start raging, this thing is going to melt. I have to document it.
Flash: Whaddaya on, linthead? Ain’t no fires here!
Daniel: Not now, but in a few hours, everything will burn. The mob is gathering even as we speak. Sharp-teethed, hypnotizing vampires, raging werewolves…

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Flash: What?
Daniel: Yeah… Ensorcelling, banishing genies, fireball-casting witches, face-bending fairies, zombies, mummies, ghosts, aliens with death-rays…
Flash: I didn’t cure ‘em!
Daniel: That’s what they all say, until it’s too late. Don’t bother calling the fire department, they hate you down there too.

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Flash: There’s nuthin’ in the fridge!
Daniel: No? I don't know about that. I’ll have to empty it and take it with me, to check for hidden compartments. You better save the food, for when you go bankrupt.
Flash: Hah! I ain’t…
Daniel: You won’t be laughing when the ballroom and all your other establishments fold. Nobody will set foot in them while they think you did this. Don’t just stand there, start packing your recording equipment and your computers, I’m impounding that too.
Flash: Listen up, man…
Daniel: I’m listening, but you’re not talking. I better take your cars too, there are quite a few inventors coming, and they’ll just detonate them if I don’t.
Flash: A’ight, a’ight! I’m talkin’!

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Flash: I ain’t no rat, but I ain’t goin’ down for this. I never spoke to ‘em Shangs like, for real. She did.
Daniel: She who?
Flash: Miriam Hopp… somethin’. Shaft?
Daniel: Hoppcraft?
Flash: Yeah, man... Met that skank at that shabby gym, got talkin’. She’s like, ooooh yeah, you’re so cool Flash, and these Shangs, yeah, they the real deal, man, you gotta get ‘em for tha openin’. Cool, I say, how much? 10G? Ok, ok. I paid her, she paid the Shangs, man.
Daniel: I hope you can prove that.
Flash: M-hm. Flash transferred them moolah.

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Dennis Younan had concluded his work on the barrels, and could inform Daniel that they had contained a diluted form of endosulfane, a nasty insecticide that was banned practically everywhere. Even in diluted form, the stuff was so dangerous that the chemist was aghast that it was unaccounted for, and he would now go on to battle the icy conditions while sampling the town water supply.

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With both Hoppcrafts involved, staking out their lot was logical, and though they weren’t at home, the presence of a relocation truck indicated that they didn’t plan to stick around for long. The clock was ticking, fast.

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With a dangerous chemical on the loose, and Ayden wanting evidence, breaking and entering was an easy choice. The only thing in the house that might shed a light on the Hoppcrafts dealings was their PC. As he hauled it off, he tried to recall an ad he’d seen in the paper, where some dude offered to do data recovery and ransomware-cleanups. What was that name again? Grom? Gram?

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Grimm, Chancer. The tech-savvy journalist was almost salivating at the prospect of examining the dealings of prominent politician Miriam Hoppcraft, and Daniel had no qualms about giving him exclusive rights to any publishable material. It soon became apparent that both Hoppcrafts had been active on anti-occult forums, where they had ran into Lo Pan. Someone had, as a prank, turned their son, Alfred, into a fairy, and Lo Pan had been willing to oblige when the Hoppcrafts wanted to take their revenge large-scale.

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Since the curing was not considered a crime, Chancer and Daniel soon turned their attention to a program Miriam had used to track the whereabouts of her husband’s mobile phone. When plotted on a map, and chronologically examined, the locations provided some extremely useful clues about where the endosulfane might have been dumped. A redirected and frost-bitten Dennis Younan, hacking through the ice at several aquatic locations, soon reported back that the dumping had been widespread, and fish populations were devastated as a result.

Their emails between the Hoppcrafts and Lo Pan contained no mention of the “chemical warfare”, giving the appearance that this was something the Hoppcrafts had cooked up themselves. This was further confirmed by transactions showing that James had ordered and paid for the endosulfane himself. Their motivation for unleashing the chemical remained a mystery, but with time running out, and no way of incriminating the pair for their part in the mass curing, at least they had James Hoppcraft pinned to serious environmental destruction.

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Daniel accompanied the cops as they made their arrest, eager to witness the outcome of his first major case. In an ironic twist, both the cops, Janet Pok and Selena Durwood, were victims of the cure. James Hoppcraft was no repenting sinner, he shouted at them that they should be grateful, as they were no longer freaks. With his teenage son present, perhaps they could have been a tad gentler when they dragged him out.

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To have a quick word with Miriam, Daniel lingered, noticing that the miserable Alfred no longer had his wings. All that hullaballoo, when all they had needed to do was to cure him and move on.
Daniel: You better get out here. The story will be all over tomorrow’s paper, and it won’t be safe around here. What I don’t under…
Miriam: Are you happy with yourself for destroying our family? You’re nothing but a fool!
Daniel: Stop whining. I’ll sure you’ll manage. You look like a city girl, and I’m sure Bridgeport needs an evil, scheming bi…
Miriam:  Pfffah! Bridgeport is done for! Overrun by the vampire conspiracy.
Daniel: Yeah? You’re sure it’s not the aliens?
Miriam: You have no idea, do you? There’s barely anyone left there who isn’t a vampire! Bottled Vampire Bites sold at half price! Discounted plasma fruits!
Daniel: Bridgeport doesn't concern me.
Miriam: It will, once they start flooding this place too. Then you’ll understand! Now get out of my house.
Daniel: I hope our paths don’t cross again, Mrs Hoppcraft.

Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here



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Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 12 - Double-barreled Anger
« Reply #37 on: September 12, 2017, 03:07:30 PM »
Seeing Without Eyes

As soon as Daniel set foot outside his bedroom, his grandmother’s voice emanated from the half-open door to her room, asking him to sit with her. She had turned off the lights in her room to get a better view of the winter landscape, and seemed entranced by it.
Alecia: Snow, like… I suppose it’s… appropriate.
Daniel: Are you ok?
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Alecia: Yes… Just a little philosophical.
Daniel: I see…
Alecia: Your mother won the international last night. Make sure you see that trophy, and her.
Daniel: Ok…
Alecia: If she should get the statue, after starting over with a new horse, that would truly be an accomplishment…  If she does… put it on the highest pillar you can find. Light it, so everyone can see it night and day. Don’t make the same mistake I did.

Her gaze was still fixed on the outside, and he knew, that in her mind, she was back there, referring to either Alyssina or her ex-husband. He didn’t want to risk breaking the spell by asking, Jack would know about that anyway, so instead he just sat there in silence, allowing her to sink deeper in. Somewhere, far beyond the windows, they connected, at the place neither of them needed to name.

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Daniel: To my parents, it was just a place where they lived. To you and me, it was so much more.
Alecia: I know…
Daniel: Then you also know why I must ask.
Alecia: Yes… I do.
Daniel: I heard about pop's cure, that pill. Why didn’t you trust her to help him earlier, if she could?
Alecia: Because, my dear, she’s the one who sent him traveling through time.
Daniel: What…?

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Alecia: While you were a toddler, Jackson started on a downward spiral. That’s when the outbursts, and the monologues began. Over the course of several months, it got gradually worse, and worse. The way you have seen him act is nothing compared to what he was like back then. Often, he was so fired up and incoherent that I had to lock him in the washing room for hours. I had no idea what was causing it, and Alexandria convinced me that institutionalizing him would not help. Danielle only stayed because of you.

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Alecia: I didn’t know that, while I was working, and Danielle was minding both you and the horses, she was sending him time-traveling. She handled the controls, guiding where he’d end up. She had tutored him, and she had a hold over him, so she made him keep his mouth shut about it.
Daniel: Why? What was the point?
Alecia: She was looking for something.
Daniel: But why did she send him, instead of going herself?
Alecia: I only figured that out much later, after considerable research. You see, time-traveling is fraught with danger. If you enter the past, for example, you risk changing the current state of affairs. If she went traveling herself, she might end up destroying whatever she was looking for. But, due to his condition, Branislav’s syndrome, your father is… different, in that regard.

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Daniel: Different, how?
Alecia: When he experiences a new reality, his mind does not question it, instead he accepts it, completely, and tries to absorb it all at once. This leaves him in a catatonic state, completely unable to affect or interact with what he is observing. Because of this, he can be sent time-traveling without the risk of changing the time-lines.
Daniel: But… he says he can’t remember anything when he returns, only through flashbacks. If that is the case, how did she gain any information from his travels?

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Alecia: A good question, my dear. Alexandria is very shrewd, and found a way around that problem. One day, having gotten a promotion, I got home early, and I heard Jackson rambling in the basement garage. I hadn’t been down there in months, and the door was locked, but I had the master key. That’s when I walked straight into one of her “sessions”, and learned about what had been going on. She was using hypnotic techniques to trigger his flashbacks, while recording everything he said.
Daniel: So she was the cause of him going downhill?
Alecia: Precisely. She seemed willing to throw him under the bus to find what she was searching for. I’ve never been so angry in my life, even at your grandfather, and we had a huge row. She said I was just a stupid actress who would never fathom the importance of what she was seeking, while I threatened to move out, taking Jackson with me. Her experiments stopped, but the flashbacks didn’t. When she claimed to be able to stop them, how could I trust her?

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Daniel: Hmm. By stopping the flashbacks, she was also covering her own tracks.
Alecia: Yes. In the end, I felt I had no choice. We had tried everything else.
Daniel: We can’t be certain it worked, it was just a pill.
Alecia: It wasn’t an ordinary pill, young man. It was very expensive and high-tech, supposed to be available only to the military.
Daniel: Ok… Do you remember some of his ramblings? It could be helpful.
Alecia: No. She probably sent him all over, both and back and forwards in time, so they were just a jumbled mess to me, and I tried to ignore them as much as I could.
Daniel: Do you think she found what she was looking for?
Alecia: Yes, or at least she got close enough to continue her search through other means. Her travels out of town started shortly afterwards.
Daniel: Did she stop my presentation?
Alecia: Who else? She said Maureen Sw0rd was “damaged goods”.

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Daniel: Any idea what she meant by that?
Alecia: No. She didn’t specify, but she was adamant about stopping it.
Daniel: You mentioned something the other day, about the Carsons, and the first generations, having black hair and brown eyes…
Alecia: Yes…
Daniel: Alexandria doesn’t have that look. But the girl Jackson painted does.
Alecia: After an “episode” between the sisters, Alexandria started dyeing her hair and using contacts. As a child, she was black as a raven, just like her mother and sister.
Daniel: And the girl? Is, or was, she a Carson?
Alecia: She’s not important, and that’s quite enough talk about the past, my dear. Let’s talk about the present instead. I hear you cracked a major case, congratulations.

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Daniel: Thank you. And I hear you are on the verge of topping out your film career?
Alecia: Meh, I’m just a vain old woman approaching the end of an unimportant career. It doesn’t matter.
Daniel: Hogwash. You should be proud.
Alecia: I should have done so much more. What is the next case you are working on?
Daniel: Since nothing else is cooking, the big one. I’m planning to visit Sunset Valley, to do some digging.
Alecia: You’re still serious about going after her, even if she knows the future?
Daniel: No matter what.
Alecia: Madness… But Kate would have been proud of your attitude, young man.

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Though Miriam had wisely gone on the run, with Alfred, Ayden was very pleased with how he had handled the case. He quoted Chancer’s article, which made a point of “the relentless efforts of private investigator Daniel Carson”, coughed up 5000, and added another 2500 for quick resolution. When Daniel casually mentioned that, come spring, he might be looking into the matter of the foundation of the town, Ayden assured him of the strength of his claim, but also indicated a willingness to sponsor the undertaking. Two paychecks for one job? Why not…

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He didn’t forget what Alecia had said when he saw his mother at the kitchen table. He grabbed the trophy from the living room, and placed it next to them as he joined her. The gesture did not go unappreciated, and although she downplayed her success, saying that he racing trophy was the easy one, she couldn’t hide her joy. As she recounted the race, he became aware of the lines in her face, and the realization that his mother was no longer a young woman felt slightly terrifying.

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With Zaijian being an international winner, she wanted a portrait of him, as had been the custom at Memory Lane. He had no objections when she suggested that he should take up photography, and pointed out how it could be useful in his occupation.

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When she started talking about the portraits of the horses, and how they’d all been taken in the summer or the spring, he drifted off, to another room in the same house. Where he had checked for monsters under his bed, blissfully unaware that the real monster lived one floor above him, and that she’d been dragging his father into an abyss through her maniacal search. He had to get on her trail, somehow, and perhaps Maureen Sw0rd being “damaged goods” was another pointer in the right direction: South, to Sunset Valley. He’d leave tomorrow morning.

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In his newly-made office, he discovered a disconcerting message from his grandfather, replying to Daniel’s request for a second meet:

“Being watched. Not safe.”

Watched? By who? There couldn’t be anyone still on his tail for what had happened over 30 years ago. Had the old man gone completely paranoid, or was he mixed up in something?

Preparing for his trip to Sunset Valley, he checked the registry of deeds to find out what had happened to Villa Carsonia. If “The Impeccable” had acquired it, he was fully prepared to knock on his door, hat in hand, just to get inside the place and snoop around. Unfortunately, it had been acquired by some faceless investment company.

He tried to clear his mind and make a metal list of what he’d do once he got there. Visit the Memory Lane lot. He had to see for himself that it was gone. Check up on Maureen Sw0rd. How? Hm. Perhaps Vance might know something. Stop by Villa Carsonia, and scope it out. Break and enter if necessary/possible. Who else might know anything about Alexandria? She had worked the hospital… Find out who had been her co-workers, interview them. And then…? Was that all he had?

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As his eyes wandered, along with his thoughts, they came to rest on the lamp. He had put it there in his meager efforts to provide the office with some ornaments, but it did have one wish left… Tingles started running down his spine as his imagination homed in on a way of using that wish, one that could unlock a treasure-trove of information, probably including the identity, and story, of the girl in the nursery. Yes. Oh yes. Now he really had something.

Blessed with his new, brilliant idea, a need to share didn’t follow far behind, but when he tried calling Lynx, her phone was off. She ought to be back by now, giving him no choice but to go over there. Maybe he could invite her with him on his road trip? She’d say no, in all likelihood, but if his prom with Faith had thought him anything, it was that good things could come from asking…

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It wasn’t Lynx who opened, but one didn’t have to be genius to figure out who the dude was. That hair, the yellow wings, and his general look all pointed in one direction: Ritchie Keaton.
Daniel: Is Lynx in?
Ritchie: Who?
Daniel: Lynx Blunstone.
Ritchie: Erm… That girl who used to live here? She moved, dunno where.

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Daniel: Don’t be a moron, Ritchie. Her bike is still here. Go get your girlfriend.
Ritchie: Yeah? Who’re you supposed to be?
Daniel: Daniel Carson.
Ritchie: No, you’re not. You work for them, don’t you? You’ll have to go through me first, sonny.
Daniel: You sound just as paranoid as your father. Should I bring the car around, the one he gave me? Or maybe try calling him? His number is 654 432…

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Ritchie: You’re supposed to be a fairy.
Daniel: So, that’s why you’re so on edge. Like half the town, I got cured.
Ritchie: Yeah? Half the town?
Daniel: Long story. Now, can we go talk to Lynx?
Ritchie: Erm… No… Bad time, man. She’s gone through a… change, not a lot of people she trusts right now.
Daniel: What sort of change? I hear vampirism is real popular where you’ve been.
Ritchie: No, she's no vampire. She’ll have to tell you herself, when she gets into the groove, like.
Daniel: Who did you think I was working for? The same people who are watching your father?

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Ritchie: Yeah. But… It’s not him they want, it’s her.
Daniel: What? Why?
Ritchie: I can’t tell you, but she’s in danger. We had to bail outta Bridgeport, when she got… erm, exposed, and we’re laying low, real low. The band, everything, is on hold, to keep her safe, hidden. See?
Daniel: Is she ok?
Ritchie: Physically, yes. But she’s scared, and distraught.
Daniel: Who are these people?
Ritchie: We need every friend we can get, but I’ve said too much already. Erm… We’re trying to stay inconspicuous, so don’t come here until she, like, blows the horn, ok?

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He looked in on his sister before he went to bed. His black-haired sister, now turned toddler, and keeping late hours. She didn’t say much, not being able to talk yet, so he did the talking.

Daniel: She’s gone through a change, and they’re after her. What do you think about that, Celeste? I can't just sit here and wait for her to call, can I?
Daniel: So, you’re Ms. Remarkable… You’re a little late, you know. About 20 years late, in fact. I suspect we’ll have a long chat when I get back, and maybe you can tell me a thing or two. I was never very good at the xylophone, or the peg-box, but I suspect that you are. Please don’t ever say that there’s something you can’t tell me, hm? I’m getting quite enough of that. Promise?

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How peaceful it looked. The lights were on, but nobody seemed to be around, not even the horses. The pavilion, that Brook built for Johnny’s sake. The statues, won by Trent, Johnny, Mickey, Alyssina, Jack, and her. The effort that must have gone into winning them, my god… He knew so much more now. He hadn’t been ready. But how could he see it all so clearly, if this was a dream? It seemed so real...
Bai: You shouldn’t always believe what your eyes and ears tell you.

About what, rosebud? About this? About Memory Lane? He wasn’t seeing with his eyes, he was seeing with his mind. Was he having a vision? Was that why it was so clear, why he could control it? Why was everything still there, like it was frozen in time? Was this real, and its disappearance just a giant illusion? Could they dispel the illusion and get it back? Flush with excitement, he rushed towards the door, past Brook’s pair of perfect Fab-fabled Fillys, and inside, where everything was as it had been, before Alexandria’s selling-spree.
Alecia: First and foremost, Memory Lane is a machine, built and organized from the ground up to succeed at horse racing.
Daniel: I know, grandma. I’ll never forget.
Alecia: Everything here is secondary to winning the races.
Daniel: I know! It’s not too late. We can get it back!

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Exhilarated, he ran down into the basement, to confirm that the trophy room was still brimming with the results of the machine’s revolutions. Then, he peeked into one of the neighboring storage rooms, stocked with trophies and diplomas. One of those gardening trophies had been Esther’s, the sports agent trophy had to be Johnny’s, the golden fox must have been Jasen’s. Why were there here, and not on display? It wasn’t right, and he was going to change it. Every achievement would be celebrated from now on, every new trophy put on display for the Saturday parties dictated by Brook’s second law. Everything was going to be different this time, he was going to be ready, and appreciate it all.

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The piano, bought for Symphony, were “the light of his life” played for Johnny. Celeste would play it now, play it to the high heavens. The bookshelves, with skill books to the right, fictional books to the left, and children’s books and fishing books in the middle one.
Daniel: Do you see, grandma? I remember! It’s going to be all right.
He would read with Celeste here. He would look through the telescope, work on his skills, even read all of Alyssina’s books. The key to the city, on that desk, why hadn’t he noticed it before? Who earned it? He needed to see more, to know more…

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The Winter Lounge, as Brook made it. Why had he wanted to change it? It was appropriate, just right. He would get married there, probably to Shawanda. It didn’t matter how she dressed, she was a nice girl, and maybe Bai could split those lemons so that they could make more lemon juice. Lemon juice was good, and healthy.
Daniel: How many lemons in the fridge, grandma? Or the chest in the nectary?
He'd learn to keep track of every ingredient, and to garden, in case they needed more. Brook didn’t garden, but that painting was one of hers. Born a Carson, died a Lane, the best artist in the history of Sunset Valley. Was Celeste an artist, or a rider? If she was an artist, maybe they could find a talented orphan girl who can ride, and add her to the family. His mother would like that, and they had lots of space here, with all the bedrooms. She could stay in the Freshman Room, like…

Suddenly, he realized that he was no longer in control. Floating out of the room, he knew this wasn’t a vision, just a dream. Drifting inexorably up the stairs, he felt chills playing along his spine, intensifying with every step, and he knew the dream was turning into a nightmare. He came to a halt outside the door to the Freshman Room, just like he had done all those years ago, and with the chills raging all the way up to his ears, he knew what was going to happen.

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He had thought she wasn’t at home, and, driven by his childish curiosity, he just wanted to take a peek in her room. But as he swung the door open, she was there, as if she’d been waiting for him to make his mistake. Her eyes impaled him, like she was pinning an insect on a spreading board. Helplessly caught in those pools, so deep with curiosity and knowledge, it felt like his soul was being dissected, by a machine operating with such logical efficiency that it could absorb everything, in a matter of seconds. Having flattened him, drained him of all his secrets through nothing but a look, she spoke, with a soft voice, a voice fully aware of what had just happened, and with those eyes still pinning him down.

Alexandria: Are you looking for something?

Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 13 - Seeing Without Eyes
« Reply #38 on: September 24, 2017, 06:47:16 AM »
Night of the Living Dead


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Here stood Memory Lane, the legendary mansion of the Lane family. For 7 generations, it looked down upon the town, but nothing lasts forever… 20 Summer Hill Court is now owned by the Carson family, and will house the headquarters of Carson Incorporated.

The monument had to be the work of “The Impeccable”, payback for what Alecia had done at Villa Carsonia. Carson Incorporated… What a bunch of fluff. He could see someone sitting at the edge of the lot, and started making his way there, feeling the crushing finality of knowing that Memory Lane was truly gone. There was no illusion, and the bulldozers had scraped down to the bedrock.

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The sitter was Glen Andrews, who had gotten old and didn’t seem to recognize him.
Glen: Tourist?
Daniel: I suppose I am.
Glen: If you came to see the house, you’re a few years too late, son. They wouldn’t have let you in anyway, they were a nasty, unfriendly bunch. Treated us townies like we were thrash, for many generations. Ptoi!
Daniel: That bad, hm?
Glen: Yep. Well, I hear a couple of the women were alright, throughout the years, but the women who weren’t, they were the worst…
Daniel: Who were they?
Glen: When I was young, the woman everybody feared was the Chimera. Her name was Alyssina, and bad seed she was.... She was born a hybrid, turned herself into a witch, and she loved fire, just like the Chimera of legend.
Daniel: She cast fire spells?

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Glen: Oh yeah, she poured fire alright, when she was mad. It was them races that did it. She lived for racing those horses, and she was mighty good, but she couldn’t stand losing. If she came second, she fumed, but if she came third, she erupted. They used to watch the race results at the fire station, and if she came third, they knew they needed to call in extras.
Daniel: How bad was it?
Glen: Pretty bad, son. She stocked up on magic potions, and came during the night, hitting either the library or one of the clubs. She hated their modern architecture, and when she let it rip, it went on for hours. I think it always amazed her how many people showed up to try to stop her fires. She’d laugh when they fell over exhausted, or simply in shock. Sometimes she'd shout: "Let it burn, all that modern crap!"
Daniel: Didn’t someone take action if it happened repeatedly? The police, or something?
Glen: Hah! Take action, against her? A few people tried calling the police, or writing about it in the paper, and they either got turned into toads or got visited by her dead-eyed twin brother. He was an inventor, and blew your stuff up.
Daniel: So nobody dared do anything?

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Glen: One guy, Donald Crumplebottom, threatened her with a lawsuit, for psychological damage or something. First, his car was blown up, and then the Chimera herself visited him at home. He collapsed in shock and, afterwards, sold his house and moved into the Retirement Home, as he didn’t dare to live alone anymore.
Daniel: But nobody got hurt… physically?
Glen: Who knows? The Lanes covered everything up. Ptoi!
Daniel: Sounds like she was quite a handful, the Chimera.
Glen: She calmed down eventually, when she got old. From what I hear, there was someone worse than her. The first one, who came from over there, where the Carsons lived. Ack... I don't remember her name...

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Daniel: It doesn't matter, go ahead.
Glen: Well... She was nothing but bad news, they say. She kept time on everybody, and turned people into elders if they lived too long as adults. If you have lived long enough as an elder, according to her time tables, or if you crossed her, you were done. My ancestor, Kelsey Andrews, crossed her, or rather, her daughter. She turned him into a simbot. A little later, he wound up in a pool, which is death to a simbot. She was at the pool too, of course.
Daniel: We better hope she doesn’t come back, somehow.
Glen: Woe to the world if she does! I tell you son, the world would be a better place without rich people, whether its Lanes, Carsons, Moores, or Landgraabs. Their scheming and wheeling and dealing always ends up hurting us commoners.
Daniel: You may be right about that.
Glen: I sure am! I’ll bring my chair up here to enjoy the view for as long as I can, but now there’s something else brewing, as you could see on that stone. More schemes by the well-to-do’s. Ptoi!

His visit to the hospital turned out to be a tedious affair, obstructed by red tape and a less than cooperative desk clerk. After harassing a number of people, he finally got the name of someone who had worked with Alexandria: “Doc” Youngblood. He was a pensioner now, and wasn’t answering his phone. Dropping by the library to try to dig up some information on Maureen Sw0rd proved even less fruitful. There were no documents or articles who could offer any immediate explanation of why she might be “damaged goods”. He’d have to ask Vance about her, and then, if necessary, dig into her heritage.

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By the time he got to the graveyard, to conduct his main business, it was already dark. Spring might have come to Sunset Valley, but it was still early in the year, and darkness waits for no man. He stopped at the spot where he had encountered Alexandria, and she had left him gape-jawed. Last time, he didn’t see whose grave it was, but now he saw. The Chimera, who had brought about this whole mess. She was buried next to her unicorn, with her husband offset to the right. Even in death, she was making a statement.

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Walking straight down the aisle, four rows down, he arrived at his destination. He noticed that Alexandria’s gravestone had a red hue to it, making it stand out like a sore thumb. A fake, and not a good one. Didn’t she care? Whatever, he wasn’t here for her, he was here for him. Trent Lane, the lamp genie who had been freed by Kate Carson to become her super-butler, and ended up marrying Alexandria. He couldn’t possibly be very comfortable about what had happened to the legacy that carried his name, and he could answer a lot of questions.

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He didn’t quite know what to expect when he rubbed the lamp, but what he definitely didn’t expect was the chubby genie woman that appeared telling him that it was impossible to resurrect Trent Lane, on account of him not being buried there. At first, he didn’t believe her, and they got into a small argument, but she remained adamant: Trent Lane was not buried at this graveyard.

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Flabbergasted, he got the genie back in the lamp and tried to think. If Trent’s gravestone was fake too, how many fakes were there? Why wasn’t he here? He remembered Alexandria asking the ghosts about him, which probably meant she didn’t know either. The decimation of the Moores had happened at his funeral party, which meant that Alexandria herself had buried Trent, so how could she not know where he was? It made no sense.

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He retreated to the fountain to gather his thoughts, and noticed for the first time that the walkways connected to the graves like the branches in a family tree. The central spine represented the Lane inheritance, with Carsons and Moores to the right of it. He was delighted by this discovery for about 5 minutes, when he realized it didn’t help him one bit. Bah! If he left this place now, when would he get back? New clues and new cases would throw him on a loop, and maybe he’d spend the lamp wish some other way. It had to be now, or never.

After about 30 minutes, he had reached a decision. What he was about to do was extremely risky, but at least the person in question ought to have some useful information. He toyed with the idea of bringing back Kate Carson, which would have sent shockwaves through half the nation, but not only was she too out of control, she probably couldn’t care less about the Lane legacy. Motivation to act against Alexandria was a must, and some honesty wouldn’t hurt either. His experiences with madness had thought him that it was usually very overrated, and the people who were said to be mad, like his father, were often the most straight-shooting ones, though sometimes in a kind of roundabout way…

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The genie didn’t protest this time, and acted very dramatic, while Daniel couldn’t help but feel extremely nervous about the whole thing. He hadn’t really thought this through, and maybe he should have brought something with him, like a straitjacket, or at least a cane? He didn’t dare look at the grave, fearing some half-rotten corpse would rise up from it.
Chloe: What year is it?
Daniel: 431
Chloe: *sigh* Why is everyone so ***** slow…

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Daniel: What…
He turned to look at her, but she was already gone, jogging through the maze of hedges towards the exit.
Daniel: Chloe, wait….!
Chloe: For what!? Christmas?!
He ran after her, but couldn’t make up any ground before she jumped into his parked car. He barely managed to get into the passenger side before she had hotwired it and was blasting off.

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Daniel: What do you think you’re doing!? This is my car!
Chloe: Maybe you can have it back when I’m done with it. Don’t tell me you’re one of those sobbing “oh my mommy didn’t love me” types, or I’m tossing you out in the first curve. You’re in Chloeland now, wake up and smell the lamb chops. Now, what did you have most trouble with?
Daniel: Most trouble with? That Trent Lane wasn’t there, I guess. So, I resurrected you instead.
Chloe: Oh God… What else to expect from a man.
Daniel: You’re not very polite to your relatives, are you?
Chloe: Have you tried being dead, whipster? Or just old? With every joint aching and your energy constantly in the red? Do you have any idea how much that sucks? No? So excuse me for not pinching your cheek and giving you your favorite chocolate bar.
Chloe: What?!
Daniel: I didn’t say anything.
Chloe: She hasn’t even asked me who I am! Pff. I couldn’t care less who you are. You’re just a pawn in someone else's game. Never met a man who wasn’t.
Daniel: Sounds like you spent too much time with your mother.
Chloe: My mother? She was fairly easy-going, I’m not. I eat chumps like you for…

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She suddenly hit the brakes, hard, and looked up at the hilltop in the horizon, with shock written on her face.
Chloe: It’s gone!!
Daniel: Memory Lane? Yeah. If you could just listen to me for a second, instead of…
Chloe: Why is it gone? Where is she?
Daniel: Your sister? How did you know…
Chloe: I saw her at the graveyard, genius. She tried to stay away from my ghost, but she was there quite a lot. Where is she now?
Daniel: I have no idea. I was supposed to inherit it, but she bulldozed the place, gave away all the money and disappeared.
Chloe: Did she really… OK… Now it’s getting serious. Maybe she knew I was coming, and ran. This could be fun… Who are you? Let’s say I’m interested, for pretends sake.
She started rummaging about in a heap of old CD’s Vance had left behind in the middle console.
Daniel: Daniel Carson, formerly Lane. She was my 4 x great grandmother, and you’re my 3 x great gra…
Chloe: It’s getting boring now. Who brought my sister back, why, and when?
Daniel: Alyssina Lane, Johnny’s granddaughter, about 40 years ago. We lacked a rider, apparently, but I suspect there was more to it.
Chloe: Right. Hey, this is perfect…
He tried to say something, but it was immediately drowned by the loud music produced by the CD she had inserted into the car stereo. Incredulous, he watched her jam along to the music, before singing along with gusto. What had he brought back? Was she insane, or just… wild?

I - don't wanna know your name
Cause you don't look the same
The way you did before
Okay - you think you got a pretty face
But the rest of you is out of place
You looked alright before


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Daniel: Chloe!!
Chloe: Yeah?
Daniel: Where are we going?
Chloe: To Villa Carsonia, or whatever might have replaced it.
Daniel: It’s still there, but it’s…

Fox on the run!
You scream and everybody comes a running
Take a run and hide yourself away
Foxy on the run
F-foxy
Fox on the run
And hide away


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Daniel: Listen, this place is owned by some investment company now…
Chloe: Do you know anything about why Abyssina brought my sister back?
Daniel: Alyssina. No, I...
Chloe: Wordplays are just wasted on you, aren’t they? Do you know anything or not?
Daniel: I’ve been trying to work out the why myself. I have a book she wrote, about the second and third generations, and I’ve…
Chloe: Give it to me.
Daniel: Sure, but did you hear what I said about who owns this place? They must have changed the locks since you were here.
Chloe: Yeah, the mighty investment company has locked me out. My, oh my, I wonder how I’ll get in now…

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She turned, facing the gates, and suddenly he could hear the sound of servos being engaged, the metal lock twisting and breaking, before the doors swung open for her. Gobsmacked, he stood rooted to the spot, and the gate quickly slammed shut again, accompanied by the sound of pneumatic bolts clanking into place. He tried opening the gates, but whereas he had been able to shake them upon his last visit, he now found them utterly immovable.
Daniel: Chloe, wait! What if there’s somebody in there?
Chloe: For their sake, I hope not.
Daniel: Chloe…! Open the gates!
Chloe: No first date sleepover, whipster. Come by tomorrow, I got work to do.

He stood outside the gates for a while, shaking his head in disbelief at the experience. How the heck was he supposed to handle her? He needed her a lot more than she needed him, it seemed. Bringing back Kate would probably have been the saner choice, and she would probably have been much more charming, at least to begin with… He couldn’t come back tomorrow being as clueless about Chloe as he had been today, he had to put in some hours, and the library would be as a good a place as any.

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A search on Chloe Carson turned up a grand total of three relevant hits, and only one of the articles had her as the subject. Even her media-shy sister had been mentioned frequently, in connection with her adventures and her horse racing, though she hadn’t spent half her life in a loony joint…

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The world is at her feet
By Teddy Dalton

Chloe Carson, daughter of super-celebrity Kate Carson, is a student at Sims University. But she’s not just any student. Originally enrolling for Fine Arts, Chloe has also been studying business and communications, and although she took just one exam, she was top of her class in all three courses. Estimated by her professors to have a capacity for study of four times the average student, Chloe has declined to have her IQ tested, but the top firms are lining up to get her.

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A ceremony at Conners Student Union unveiled a plaque celebrating the all-time top performers at Sims University, the so-called “top hats”. Not only was Chloe Carson on top of the list, her scores were so incredible that a portrait of her was hung beside the plaque. Professor Madeleine Noetal characterized Chloe’s performance as “once in a quincentenary”. Ms. Carson declined to comment on the ceremony, her academic performance, or her future plans.

Editor’s note: Our reporter, Teddy Dalton has gone missing since submitting this article. At this point in time, it is unclear whether he went off the grid before or after leaving Sims University. If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of Teddy, please contact Academic Monthly.

The world at her feet, and then nothing? Just a black hole? Chloe had to be as allergic to publicity as her sister, or even worse. Maybe Teddy shouldn’t have written that article... Hm. The sisters were so close in age that Alexandria had to have been at university at the same time, but academically Chloe had blown her away, and everybody else too. Yikes. If she was half as smart as she had been, and her take-no-prisoners attitude was for real, she was some piece of work.

With nothing more to go on with Chloe, he turned his attention to her two sons, with the information being provided by none other than the Chimera. Maybe they were extracts from one of her earlier volumes on family history?


Leonardo Carson – The man who had it all, and just walked away
By Alyssina Lane

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Have you heard the name Leonardo Carson? These days, not many have. Once upon a time, everybody knew his name. He was the firstborn son of Chloe Carson, and her husband, peripheral businessman Gary Carson. Far older than his younger brother, Frank, Leonardo grew up at Villa Carsonia while it was buzzing, with Kate, Alexandria and Trent Lane still present in the household.

With Chloe and her husband busily pursuing their careers, Leonardo got shipped off to boarding school at Le Fromage, and never really bonded with his parents. Graduating with honor, and as blessed with talent as any of his ancestors, expectations weighed heavily on him as he returned. Not wanting to be compared with his ancestors, he chose to become an author, and quickly started produced promising material.

During those days, Villa Carsonia was hardly an ideal location for a solitude-seeking writer. Kate, even though she was old and grey, was literally running up and down staircases. In the living room, Gary always seemed to be present, working from home, with the sound of the TV to keep him company. Alexandria and Trent was always busy with something noisy, such as snapping photos, the food replicator, the alchemy lab, the martial arts dummy, and then there were the incessant arguments between the sisters. If everything seemed quiet, he could count on his never-sleeping mother to fire up the chainsaw and have a go at a block of ice.

One day, trying to write and once again having his eardrums assaulted by the sounds of the chainsaw, Leonardo snapped. He grabbed the laptop and simply walked out of Villa Carsonia, without saying goodbye to anyone. Cutting off all contact with the family, he married local girl Tori Kimura, with whom he had a daughter, Brook. Tori soon died in a tragic accident, and Leonardo, struggling with both grief and writer’s block, walked off again, leaving his teenage daughter to fend for herself.

Leonardo was in a bar when he got the letter, informing him that his mother had been committed to a mental hospital, and inviting him to take charge of his inheritance. He read the letter aloud, before, to the shock of everybody present, he crumpled it into a ball and tossed it. For the rest of his life, the golden boy drifted. From town to town and bar to bar, never breaking through as a writer. All he had to do to take charge of the most famous estate in Sunset Valley, was to walk through its doors. But he never did.

The Carson family, invited to comment on this article, has declined to do so.


How the Carsons lost their fortune: The house that Frank built
By Alyssina Lane

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After the hospitalization of Chloe Carson, the leadership of the Carson clan, and of Villa Carsonia, fell to her youngest son, Frank Carson. Witnessing the rise of Memory Lane, Frank felt it was time for the Carsons to reclaim their position as the most prestigious family in Sunset Valley, and that he was the man to mastermind that effort.

Frank wasn’t much of a worker, relying on selling off the artworks of his mother and grandmother to keep the Carson accounts from dwindling. Still, he had a six-figure sum to play with, and his delusions of grandeur were on the same scale. To put Memory Lane in the shade, he planned something monumental, and in secret, he had already acquired the only lot wherefrom it would be possible to look down on Memory Lane: Crystal Falls.

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This dark old photo is the only one from the building site that still survives. Building engineer Emerson Durring was present during the construction process, and offers the following comments:

That thing was so big and unwieldy… It was meant to be built on pillars, like Villa Carsonia, but it looked like a total mess. Frank was no architect, his drawings made no sense, and we had to redo pillars and floors all the time. Then he had to tear down the sections closest to the falls, because Frank wanted them even closer to the rock, moving pillars again. Then the width wasn’t right, and so on… It was a nightmare.

I always suspected there was something fundamentally wrong with Frank’s calculations, but he couldn’t be bothered to come up there. Every time I visited him at Villa Carsonia, he was watching TV, with chocolate wrappings accumulating on the floor around him. The called him the coach-potato slob for a reason, you know. “Just keep on building,” he said, dreaming that everything would work out.

After we had struggled and re-built for months, it became clear that, even from the rooftop, there would be no view. There was a small hill blocking the view, and the house would never be tall enough to overlook it. “Tear the hill down!” Frank said, but the hill wasn’t on his property, and the town council wouldn’t let us touch it. Even Frank understood that nobody would want to live in a house in the middle of nowhere, with no view and precious little sun, so construction was halted. He tried selling off that half-done monster for years, but nobody wanted it. In the end, the town ordered him to clean up the place, which meant more money down the drain.

Insiders in the Carson family informs us that their financial troubles continue: Their union with the Moores have been to no avail, as the current patriarch, Moses Carson, has lost significant amounts of money on an out-out-town project, and as a result, Villa Carsonia will shortly be put up for sale.

Through their lawyers, the Carson family has informed us that the publication of this article will lead to a suit for slander against the Sunset Valley Daily.

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With Kate contributing 90% of the Carson-related material online, she was hard to overlook, but it wasn’t until he stopped browsing and let himself sink into one of the photos that he noticed. Her pale complexion, her brown eyes and black hair, that nose… Hmm.

He ran through more photos of her, where she wasn’t in her Kata Strophy-mode, but it still wasn’t what he was looking for. He started sorting the hits by date, and started going deeper, further and further back in time, through her time at Starlight Shores, and all the way back to Monte Vista. And that’s when he found it. A short article, mentioning “Kate Carson, the latest rising star on the celebrity sky, frequently flaunting her guitar skills in the company of Jalista Rivers.” He worked with the picture for a while, cutting Jalista Rivers, then found another picture he had, pasted it in, and looked at the result.

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They even had the same haircut. Take away the golden Monte Vista sunlight on Kate’s face, compress her into that frame, and how would they differ? Kate Carson died before Memory Lane was built, and there was absolutely no way anybody could resurrect her and keep her moping in a nursery. The way he saw it, that left only one possible explanation: Someone had cloned Kate Carson. The only person he positively knew could clone something, was Alexandria. But why would she clone her mother, and what had happened to the clone?

Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2, Chapter 14 - Night of the Living Dead
« Reply #39 on: October 07, 2017, 05:40:28 PM »
Revelations – Part I

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Vance had spared him the indignity of sleeping on the streets, and though he had no information on Maureen Sw0rd, at least Daniel got to meet the family. He was tempted to mention the resurrection, but it didn’t seem right to burden his wife and daughter with the family intrigues behind it, so he tried small talk instead, and soon regretted it.
Daniel: So, how’s married life?
Vanessa: A nightmare!
Vance: Well, Daniel…
Vanessa: You’re never at home! Never! Am I supposed to do everything around here!?
Vance: I’m working, baby! A few more jobs, and we’re in Lucky Palms. You know that.
Regina: I’m going to school.
Vanessa: The dishwasher is broken, do you know that? Start working on that! If you leave here today, with those dishes still dirty, I swear...

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“Doc” Youngblood was living at the retirement center, and was willing to talk. He had some very surprising information about Alexandria’s work as a top surgeon. It sounded so strange that Daniel couldn’t help thinking he was just displaying extreme professional jealousy.

Doc: What a disappointment she was… Whenever we needed a surgeon, she managed to excuse herself. I think she spent most of her time playing golf. She did do some vaccinations and free clinics, and collected a lot of DNA samples, but she wasn’t worth a tenth of what we were paying her. She couldn’t make a single diagnosis without consulting someone on the phone! If she hadn’t quit, we would’ve had to fire her!

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The gates opened for him this time, as they had done for her the night before. The walkway to the very business-like entrance doors were flanked by an array of flowers and expensive fountains, presumably put there to send the same message as the pair of unicorn statues at Memory Lane: “Here… is greatness.”

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That was a hallway. While admiring the statues, marble floors and the supremely modern-looking staircases, he could hear hear the piano, and her singing, her voice clearer and more powerful than it had been last night.
…tear it down and start again,
ooh-oh.
In the year 9595...

Not wanting to interrupt her by shouting, he made his way up the stairs.
I’m kinda wondering if man is gonna be alive
He’s taken everything this old earth can give


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and he ain’t put back nothing
ooh-oh.

Was that her? It sounded like her, but…
Daniel: Chloe…?
Chloe: Gods, I’ve missed music. It’s been so long… The guitar was my mother’s thing, so I settled for the piano. Anyhow, you’re late.

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She got up from the piano, and Daniel tried, in vain, to reconcile the woman in front him with the one he had met yesterday.
Daniel: And you’re... young.
Chloe: Yeah. Don’t get excited, whipster. I’m still your great-whatever. I added you to the facial-recognition system at the gate, seems like it worked.
Daniel: Yeah, I walked right in. Fancy stuff. Has it been active all these years?
Chloe: My mother installed it, back in the day. It was dormant, set to trigger on my face or the face of Leonardo. Have a seat, I have a lot of questions.
Daniel: No, no… Hang on. I have questions too, and I’ve waited years to see this place. Show me around first.
Chloe: That’s a complete waste of time.
Daniel: Then it’s a good way to waste time.

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Chloe: Not to me. But if you insist…
Daniel: I most certainly do.
Chloe: Reginald! Come here!
Reginald: Yes, miss Chloe!
From above, a robotic voice was answering, and the entity started making its way down the stairs, emitting a cacophony of strange sounds. Soon, a rusty, battered simbot made its appearance.

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Chloe: The executive plus tour, Reginald. No charge, skip the living room.
Reginald: Very well, miss Chloe.
Reginald: Good morning, sir, I am Reginald, your friendly tourbot.
Daniel: I’m Daniel…
Reginald: Pleased to meet you, mister Daniel.
Daniel: Have you been here for a long time, Reginald?
Reginald: I do not know sir. My memory was wiped 9 hours ago, but my physical condition does indicate that I may have been assembled some time ago. Now, please follow me, sir.

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Reginald: Originally, the only structure on ground level at Villa Carsonia was the hallway, sir. Later, the garage and a butler’s quarters were added, before the butler’s quarters were turned into an alchemy laboratory. It isn’t very interesting, I suggest we skip that, sir.
Daniel: Fine by me.
Reginald: The original pool was demolished when Kate, somewhat foolishly, allowed Alexandria to keep a horse on the property, to console her after her father’s death. The day Kate died, Chloe sent the horse to the glue factory and started refurbishing the pool and the gardens.
Daniel: Alexandria lived here until her mother died?
Reginald: My files indicate so, sir. She moved out shortly afterwards, together with Trent Lane. Let’s move on, sir.

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Reginald: The small collection of stone sculptures was made by Chloe, and the sculpting gnomes seem to have an adorable affinity for that table. Beyond the fountain there are more flowers and trees. Do you wish to see them, sir?
Daniel: Not really.
Reginald: Very well. The gardens looked nothing like this before Chloe’s refurbishment. They were more like an open wound, and in the early days, were home to double SwfitGro gardening stations, operated by Mike Acker. Kate sent Mike all over the world to obtain specimens to grow in her gardens, and he had to work them day and night, when not gathering metals and gems. When Kate kicked him out and demolished the gardens, Alexandria saved many specimens, and later re-planted them at Memory Lane. The perfect meals and astonishing nectars of Memory Lane began here, sir, with the back-breaking work of Mike Acker.
Daniel: Why did Kate kick Mike Acker out?
Reginald: Glad you asked, sir. She grew to detest him. From Kate’s perspective, he was a simple man, happy to spend his time among plants or animals, but childish, and completely lacking in ambition. Kate tried her hand at nectar making, but found it incredibly boring, and with sufficient stocks of food from the gardens, there was no longer any need for them, or for Mike Acker.

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Daniel: Are there any pictures or photo albums from the old days?
Reginald: My files indicate that there aren’t, sir. The Carsons were not fond of taking pictures, I’m afraid.
Daniel: Who made the ice sculptures? Chloe?
Reginald: Glad you asked, sir. The three ice sculptures in this garden, the fish and the hands, represent 75% of what remains of her ice sculptures, after 15 of them were destroyed by Alexandria. Before that, a host of ice sculptures decorated the roofs of Villa Carsonia, and Chloe regarded them as her life’s work.
Daniel: Why did Alexandria destroy them?
Reginald: My files indicate that it was an act of revenge, sir, for what Chloe had done to her horse.
Reginald: The pair of applauding hands, seen behind me and generally known as “The Applause” was Chloe’s last work before her hospitalization. They are regarded as a work of irony, applauding her sister’s act of destruction. Is there anything else you would like to know about the garden, sir, or shall we proceed to the basement?

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Reginald: This is a copy of Kate’s showroom, which used to be on the first floor, and was used for parties. Kate used to show off as Kata Strophy at the karaoke. Some decorative items are missing, I’m afraid. Further in is a fully-equipped disco. Do you wish to see it sir?
Daniel: I think we can skip that. Why was the showroom moved down here?
Reginald: My files indicate that Chloe wanted something more practical upstairs, and there weren’t many parties at that time.

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Reginald: I do apologize for the state of the galleries, and the basement in general. My files indicate that there used to be significant works of art here, but that many was sold off by Chloe’s useless son, Frank. Now, there are mainly drawings here, of lesser value. Most of them are by Chloe, while 90% of the paintings are Kate’s work.
Daniel: What do your files say about Chloe’s other son, Leonardo? Was he useless too?
Reginald: Absolutely, sir. Completely lacking in self-discipline, they say. A “oh my mommy didn’t love me” type, through and through.
Daniel: I think I know who did your programming.
Reginald: Do you, sir? I do not, I’m afraid.

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Daniel: Who are those people?
Reginald: On the left, we have an experimental close-up painting of Alexandria. To the right is the mailwoman Adrianna, Kate’s last romantic fling. To the left of Adrianna is a rather bad portrait of Mortimer Goth.
Daniel: The portrait of Adrianna must be valuable, as she was one of Kate’s romantic interests?
Reginald: My files indicate that it isn’t, sir. Her face was not well known, so to the general public she could be anybody.
Daniel: This is the last room in the gallery?
Reginald: Yes sir, ordinarily that is the case… But the executive plus tour means that another treat awaits. Please follow me, sir, through the secret door in this bookcase, and into Kate’s private gallery.

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Reginald: Let’s start here, sir, to do this chronologically.
Daniel: The sisters. Before Alexandria changed her looks.
Reginald: Yes, sir. The sisters were Kate’s favorite subject. As you can see, they are virtually indistinguishable when seen in profile.
Daniel: They look like twins.
Reginald: Indeed, sir.

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Reginald: Kate made several attempts to paint them as a duo, hoping her brush could capture their subtle differences, but in the end, she caved in and mastered photography for the sake of taking a single photograph: That one.
Daniel: Wow… They are very similar, but there is a slight difference around the eyes, and the eyebrows.
Reginald: Yes, sir. When the sisters were at university, Alexandria got her first boyfriend. Chloe decided to put their likeness to the test, and impersonated her sister. Alexandria’s boyfriend could not tell the difference, and that was the end of that relationship.
Daniel: Do your files indicate when they started clawing at each other’s throats?
Reginald: Glad you asked, sir. It seems to have started when they realized that only one of them could inherit Villa Carsonia, at about age 5. At that point, Chloe launched a merciless campaign of ridiculing her sister for still clinging to “Rags”, a doll that had arrived by mail. From there on, there are many childhood events logged, like “Learning to swim”, “That jelly bean isn’t dangerous”, “Dark rooms and locked doors”, “The cat that disappeared”, and “I didn’t start the fire”. Would you like to hear about them, sir?
Daniel: No, I think I get the picture, Reg. Let’s move on.

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Reginald: After the incident at university, Alexandria changed her looks. In these official portraits, you can see that her new hair color is actually a tribute to her father, seen to the right. To the left we have Clint, Kate’s firstborn, and the blond-haired man is Gary, Chloe’s useless husband.
Daniel: Gary was useless too?
Reginald: Oh yes, sir. A failed politician, a flaccid businessman, and not much of a man in general, my files says.
Daniel: The Mike Acker portrait is very smudged, compared to the others…
Reginald: Intentionally so, sir. Kate felt he wasn’t worthy of a better version.

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Reginald: Lastly, we come to Kate’s “master series”. Frustrated with the confines of the portrait genre, this was her attempt to transcend it, testing the limits of her painting skill.
Daniel: She was pretty good, I’ll give her that… Why do the sisters have their wings in the official portraits, and not in the others?
Reginald: Glad you asked, sir. Kate felt that the wings were a distraction, and had the sisters cured when doing her artistic portraits. My files indicate that the Carsons were quite pragmatic about their occult state.
Daniel: Why is Alexandria’s hair so red?
Reginald: My files indicate that Kate used very intense light for this series, believing that insufficient lighting was the cause of 75% of all failed portraits. That may be the cause, sir.
Daniel: These paintings must be valuable, why didn’t Frank sell them?
Reginald: All the works in this room are protected by court order, and must accompany the property. The same applies to all works of art above ground. Frank could only sell paintings from the galleries, sir.

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Reginald: The positioning of the stairs and the kitchen was done with maximum efficiency in mind. You’ll notice, sir, a few small homages to Kate’s music careers. This long hallway leads to the lab, the gym and the sauna.
Daniel: I guess those rooms were Alexandria’s domain?
Reginald: I doubt that, sir. The rooms replaced the showroom, and were built by Chloe, shortly before Kate’s death. Alexandria moved out they day after Kate died.
Daniel: How was the inheritance settled?

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Reginald: Glad you asked, sir. Chloe had already been confirmed as the heir, but Alexandra was welcome to live here, as long as Kate was alive. When Kate died, Clint sued to get Villa Carsonia. In the end, Alexandria got 400 000, Clint got 250 000, having already gotten 385 Oak Grove Road, while Chloe got Villa Carsonia, valued at 250 000, and 150 000 simoleons.
Daniel: What were Chloe’s careers, and how long after the inheritance was she hospitalized?
Reginald: My files indicate that she had completed a career as an art appraiser, and was well on her way to finishing her career as a sculptor. Her hospitalization occurred 5 days after Alexandria had moved out.
Daniel: That soon? Who lived her at that time?
Reginald: Her useless husband Gary, and their second child, useless Frank, who was 5 years old.
Daniel: What careers did Alexandria pursue while living here? And what about Trent Lane?
Reginald: Alexandria was a photographer, sir. Trent Lane was in the military.

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Daniel: Do you know what caused Chloe’s hospitalization, and where was she committed?
Reginald: I am no doctor, sir. In my files, the entry closest in time to her hospitalization is the destruction of her ice sculptures, which occurred the day Alexandria moved out. Chloe was committed to Ralston Heights Sanatorium.
Daniel: Do your files contain any description of her condition, or information regarding her stay at the sanatorium?
Reginald: I’m afraid not, sir.
From the window, he could see the pool, the garden, and the pair of applauding hands. The sight of the hands prompted the question: If someone reacts to the loss of their life’s work by creating art that is an ironic comment on the destruction, are they already verging on the edge of madness, or are they so far from that edge that they are highly unlikely to go completely bonkers a few days later?

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Reginald: The kitchen is small, but intimate, and kept in a hue scientifically proven to be soothing to the spirit. You’ll note the magnificent view, of course, and “Zebra at Nine O’ Clock”, one of Kate’s earliest masterpieces, and the most valuable painting in the villa. Not much else to see here, and we better move on, sir, we don’t want to disturb miss Chloe.

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As they returned to the “Silver Studio”, Daniel started shutting out the chatty bot. Reginald was clearly one of Chloe’s toys, and though he might provide snippets of information, he would never illuminate the dark corners that were lurking here. This was the most important room in the house, Kate’s command center, and he felt he had to absorb it to understand Villa Carsonia.

The room was dominated by the only existing portrait of Kate Carson. The task of painting the legend must have been intimidating, but Chloe’s work was simply majestic. Was it just a lucky hit, or had she minimized her output as a painter to avoid trampling her mother’s artworks into the dust? Trying to ignore Reginald’s prattle about Kate’s incredibly collectable guitar, he noted how a few specks of color kept the metallic sheen of the room from feeling overwhelmingly inhuman. Take away the paintings and a couple of decorations, and how long could anyone spend in that room before becoming as cold as the room itself?

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Reginald: …very reason Villa Carsonia was built. For Kate, everything grew out of the idea of her art studio possessing this view, and originally, she envisioned…
There were colors to take in, as long as one was looking out. Was that why the ever-social Kate had thrived, while the work-obsessed Chloe had hit the wall? Now, one could see the roof of the Landgraab estate, but that would not have been possible while Memory Lane existed.

Had Alexandria chosen that location not just because it was close to the JRA, and overlooked the town, but also to stick a thumb in her sister’s eyes? Was it a coincidence that it had been situated to be clearly visible from Villa Carsonia’s centerpiece? Hm. If Chloe had tried looking out, maybe what she saw up there, payed for by Carson money, was what made her crack?
Reginald: Shall we proceed upstairs, sir?

Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 2 Finale - Revelations, Part I
« Reply #40 on: October 07, 2017, 06:38:29 PM »
Revelations - Part II

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Reginald: The bedroom was given a makeover when Chloe took it over, and it has been maintained in that state, so nothing remains of Kate’s original décor, except this painting. If you look closely, you can see the original pool, and the double gardens, worked by Mike…

Concentrating on his own observations, Daniel found that it was the first of the four bedrooms to have any sort of personality. The three others had been a mess of unmatched colors, marred by a succession of occupants who had made paltry attempts to change them. This room had a hard, austere kind of class.

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Queen of the dance, prom queen, most artistic, valedictorian, and a writers trophy. Chloe had owned her high school, and wasn’t shy about it. A sculptor’s medal complemented the collection of trophies, together with one of her own drawings. Looking to the right, he could see the sculpting station. Apart from the trophies, and the plant, there was absolutely no knick-knack in the room, and no trace of her husband. This was the room of a serious woman, who loved winning, and calling the shots.

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Bidding Reginald farewell, he wandered for a bit in the upper hallway, taking it in. This was the sort of modern lodgings he had dreamed about as a kid: It gleamed with shiny metal, expensive, dark wood, cold stone, and massive windows. Most of all, it looked like something out of a corporate headquarters, where the most dedicated employees would diligently choose the super sleeper as the first option for the night, rather than succumbing to the weakness of sleeping in an actual bed.

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Though the upper bathroom was windowless, and kept pace with the stark modernity exhibited by the rest of the 2nd floor, but at least it had some clutter, hinting at the existence of humanity: Styling gadgets, perfume, a plant, even a bathing duck desperately trying to hide behind the shower curtain.

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He walked out, onto an observation platform situated above the silver studio, and tried to condense his observations into some sort of conclusion. The house resembled an ugly spaceship on stilts, confidently imposing itself on the terrain, and striving upwards towards the heavens. The ice hands did likewise, as did the twin searchlights at the entrance. Throughout the house, decorations had been kept infrequent, and there were no playful arrangements, like Alecia had experimented with at House Celeste. Everything was serious, and effective. If Memory Lane had been a machine, build to succeed at horse racing, what was this place? A grinder, where you either survived and ascended to the top, to the sound of icy applause, or were torn to shreds?

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Chloe: Are you ready for my questions?
Daniel: Not quite. I still need answers. Why did your sister clone your mother? What was the story of Trent Lane, and where is his grave? How did the Carsons make their money? What was…
Chloe: All irrelevant, and a waste of time.
Daniel: What? No, it isn’t! I don’t even know if I can trust you. For all I know, you could turn into a raving lunatic at any moment. Why did you end up in a sanatorium? I want the truth!
Chloe: The truth is a story. A story retold repeatedly to promote a certain perspective, and to provide the illusion that there exists a solid, immovable piece of ground, from which to view or move the world. Lesser minds will scream in horror when confronted with the reality that everything they have been told is just a quagmire of relativity. Question everything, especially the truth.
Daniel: So the truth is that you didn’t go crazy?
Chloe: The question you should be asking yourself is how much you have left to lose, after she took everything your family had, and bulldozed what was on that hill. If you think trusting me isn’t worth the risk, start walking, and don’t expect the gates to open if you change your mind. Answer my questions, and I will show you why yours are irrelevant.
Daniel: You’re not giving me much of a choice…

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Daniel: Is this really necessary?
Chloe: Genius IQ will allow you to answer my questions more accurately, and to follow my reasoning with more ease. It saves time.
Daniel: Do you do this often?
Chloe: No. It would just make me dumber.
He was tempted to make some sarcastic remark designed to strengthen his macho detective persona, which didn’t exactly get to flourish in her company, but he decided to hold back. He was a guest, and she probably wasn’t bragging…

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Then the questioning started. He had thought it would be quite unpleasant, a barrage of questions designed to demonstrate that even his new genius IQ was peanuts compared to hers, supplemented by condescending comments, but it was nothing of the sort. For the first time, she was treating him as an equal, and she was both courteous and patient. As she weaved her questions, he felt himself gradually unravelling in the close presence of her beautiful face and golden skin, glowing without the assistance of any sun. He knew he was being exposed to a weapon she had inherited from her mother, but that awareness did not make her less irresistible.

She had worked through the night, reading “A Different Drum”, researching genealogies and committing them to memory, and he gave her everything. The only fact he held back was that Alexandria had burned the painting of the clone. Since she had insisted that the clone was irrelevant, he’d keep that to himself. She seemed puzzled by her sister’s time-travel shenanigans, while her questioning was especially in-depth regarding what skills her sister had demonstrated, and the relationships between Alecia, Alexandria, and Alyssina.

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Chloe: That went quite well, didn’t it? I’m upgrading our relationship to a more appropriate level.
Daniel: Ok…
Chloe: Now then, let’s watch a home movie to get in the mood.
Daniel: Eh, what…?
Chloe: Come on, don’t be shy, and be prepared to lose some illusions.

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Despite considerable misgivings, he followed her into the living room, where he was soon relieved to learn that she was just playing with words.
Chloe: Back in the day, when testing the facial recognition-system at the gate, my mother installed an additional camera near the entrance. The video you are about to see was taped by that camera, the night before Alexandria left Memory Lane, mere hours after the investment company installed a new lock on the gates.
Chloe: Let’s freeze it right…. There. Nice and up close.
 
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Daniel: She was here?! Why…
Chloe: Ah, isn’t she almost perfect… A bit pale, and the hair is weird, but never mind that. She was here for about an hour that night. Did you see how did she got in?
Daniel: She had a key. To the lock installed by the investment company?
Chloe: Yeah. Which means she owns it. What do you make of that?
Daniel: Curiosity? Chickens coming home to roost?
Chloe: She bulldozes her own legacy, because of “bad memories”, and buys a place where she barely had any good memories at all?
Daniel: Maybe she wants to keep Villa Carsonia out of the hands of others.
Chloe: Hah. The sister I knew would have defended Memory Lane more fiercely than her own children, and would never have cheated her own family of their money.
Daniel: People can change. Maybe she needed the money.
Chloe: My sister?! She could snap her fingers and make it rain gold, with her cloning. Let me offer an alternative answer to this conundrum: That is not Alexandria Lane.

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Daniel: What?! That’s insane.
Chloe: Forget the fact that she looks like her, and consider her actions.
Daniel: No, no… That is rubbish. Alyssina said she resurrected her, her grave is empty, she has the same skills, she looks exactly…
Chloe: Her grave was always empty. Like Trent, she must be buried somewhere else. I ghosted that graveyard for 200 years, and she was never there, until she was suddenly alive again. According to your answers, she has factually demonstrated less than a third of the skills my sister possessed. She fiddled with the science lab, but you never saw her do any actual research. She wasn’t much of a doctor, she never talked about her great adventures, never took any photographs…
Daniel: So what?! Are you suggesting that someone else, who looks exactly like her, spent over 40 years of her life impersonating her?! Did she fool Alyssina too, or what? This is just silly…

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Chloe: When my sister was a child, she had trouble letting go of her stupid imaginary friend doll. Kate eventually had it turned to dust, but only after providing a replacement: Reginald. That bot was her only friend throughout her childhood. I refused to let her take him with her when she moved, and instead had him deactivated. He was in the private gallery when she visited, and still had all his memories. My sister knew about the private gallery and how to enter it, but the impersonator never set foot there, as the dust covering the floor was completely undisturbed.
Daniel: So, she got over that bot. That proves nothing.
Chloe: She came out better than me in our mother’s master series, and believe me, she was proud of it. If my sister had “visited” this place, she would have entered that room.
Daniel: Maybe she was busy looking for something else.
Chloe: Like what?! No. Take a look at this picture.

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Daniel: Where did you get this?
Chloe: Never mind that. That is a postcard she sent to Trent, when he was at university. Does she seem like the cold, single-sentence spewing woman you encountered? The impersonator emphasized one part of her character, but she was more complex than that. My sister could be as charming as a puppy, and as talkative as a village slander-monger. How do you think she got Brook on board? That’s how her hair should be, by the way…
Daniel: That was a long time ago. People change.

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Chloe: Into someone completely different? I was suspicious just by seeing how she looked and behaved at the graveyard. When you said she had demolished Memory Lane, I was 99% sure she was a fake. Use your IQ! She didn’t know that Trent’s grave was empty because she didn’t bury him. You were presented with a copy, almost picture-perfect, who had mastered some core skills, and your imaginations have done the rest of the work for her, fleshing out the full image of the legendary founder.
Daniel: I don’t buy it. If she isn’t Alexandria, who’s she supposed to be? A clone?
Chloe: She’s no clone, she’s a different drum altogether. The clues are all in the book. Esther Lane never enrolled for a second term at university. I checked with both Sims Univ and Evansdale, and it never happened. A woman coming out of a disgraceful relationship goes away for a while, and then comes back. Do I need to spell it out for you?
Daniel: She was pregnant…
Chloe: With or without Brook knowing about it. Where did the child end up?
Daniel: Aha… With Diane Quintana. That’s why Esther was paying her…

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Chloe: Good! Diane probably brought the child with her when she visited Sunset Valley. She wasn’t just Esther’s friend and lover. Now, fast forward about 30 years from the birth. Alyssina is now about 50, knows that her son Jack will eventually quit racing for music, and that none of her grandchildren, Vance and Jackson, are riders. She blames Alecia for the latter part, and rightly fears that the Lane racing legacy is in the process of dying. Not only is she feeling unappreciated, she feels lost, questioning everything, and she needs answers. She tries to resurrect Alexandria, for confirmation that the legacy is on the path she intended, but the founder is not in her grave. Are you with me?
Daniel: Yeah, but…
Chloe: With no answers or guidance, Alyssina is deeply frustrated, and emotional, as she has always been. The true beat of Memory Lane is fading out, and she is at the helm, responsible, while everyone around her seems perfectly content with just letting the racing die. She’s tempted to just burn it all down, to punish the family when the inevitable happens, and her son quits racing. But then she has an idea, born out of her fruitful search for Diane Quintana: She has a half-sister, another offspring from the mother she thinks so highly of, an offspring untainted by the genes of her tragic father.
Daniel: You’re assuming that the assumed child was a girl, along with all your other assumptions?
Chloe: Just keep hanging on, whipster. At first, perhaps Alyssina thinks about bringing her half-sister, now an adult, on board to be a rider. Then she realizes that doing so would not inflict any punishment on her family, as the half-sister cannot inherit anything. Alyssina’s descendants will always be prioritized. But… in a legacy there is one person who, if alive, is ahead of all descendants in order of inheritance, and who is also the only one who can dispose of the property itself: The founder.

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Daniel: You’re just assuming things. You’re suggesting they broke countless laws…
Chloe: Does Alyssina strike you as having been a very law-abiding citizen? With all her firestarting? She tells her half-sister to start preparing for the task, sending her all the material she has on the founder, which is considerable, given her role as the family author. Once Jack quits his racing career, Alyssina has her excuse: The family needs a rider. In comes the half-sister, surgeoned to perfection, and the game is on.
Daniel: What’s in it for the half-sister? Why would she agree to surgery, and a 40-year long act, just give it all away? Nobody would…

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Chloe: Who says she gave it all away? She bought this house, took the unicorn with her, and who knows what else she took. Do we know who is behind the Arcadia Foundation, who got all those millions? What they are doing? You said Alyssina donated to undermine charities for 60 years, and if she made a deal with her half-sister, do you really think the latter would give everything back to charity?! Is your IQ boost wearing off already? Have you gone stupid?
Daniel: What, no, I…

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Chloe: How did it go… “To Rashawn, the Moores were the victims of three great injustices…” Who were Rashawn’s targets? The Carsons and the Lanes. Now, his daughter owns Villa Carsonia, while Memory Lane has been wiped off the map. Instead of using her fire spells to burn down Memory Lane, Alyssina brought the fire in the form of a redhead, for she must be a redhead, being the daughter of Esther and Rashawn. Meanwhile, that daughter got to carry on both Rashawn’s crusade and Alyssina’s precious racing legacy. I’ll bet all those trophies are on display wherever she’s holed up. Alyssina would have wanted that.
Daniel: But… she knew the aliens, from before. She always treated my mother well, and sent her a horse…
Chloe: The aliens aren’t particularly smart, I’ve met them. They would have been fooled as easily as anyone else. Your mother was an outsider, neither Carson nor Lane. She had no reason to pick on her.

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Daniel: Wait… I have to think…
Bai’s warning of not trusting his eyes and ears had come as a response to a question about Alexandria, but how could she know if the woman was an imposter? Despite Chloe’s fistful of assumptions, her version of events made sense, and explained a lot. It even explained why the picture of Rashawn, displayed in the antechamber, had been tolerated by “Alexandria”: He was her father. Holy frick… Chloe was probably right.

Those two women had pulled the wool over everybody’s eyes, for decades. What a trick that was, what a heist… Alyssina’s ghost was probably cackling with evil laughter on a regular basis at the graveyard. While a part of him was raging, from being so thoroughly misled, and having been on the wrong track for so long, he was also relieved. They hadn’t lost everything because he couldn’t ride, the whole thing had been set in motion before he was born.

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Chloe: Do you see now, why the questions you were asking are irrelevant?
Daniel: Yeah... But there are still things we don’t know, like why she would bother bringing my mother into the family, her graveyard visits…
Chloe: Maybe she just needed her to take care of the horses, but yeah. There’s also the time-traveling. What she has done so far might be just phase one of her plan, with more to come. You’ve been barking up the wrong tree, start working the right one. Look into the Arcadia Foundation. I’ll bet there is a paper trail there, leading back to her. I’ll handle the investment company. I may have to relocate, since she owns this place, but in any case: Don’t tell anybody that I’m back.
Daniel: She knows the future, so she probably knows.
Chloe: Perhaps. I hope not. The advantage of surprise is considerable.
Daniel: How did you…

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Chloe: How did I what?
Daniel: You made yourself young again, you… reprogrammed Reginald, you researched genealogies, read the book, memorized… And then you figured all this out… in a matter of hours. That’s inhuman.
Chloe: I’ve been known to be pretty smart. But you’re right to question it. Question everything. Dive into the quagmire of relativity, and consider some scenarios. One: My sister is back, for real, while I have posed as her for that video at the gate, to fool you into joining a crusade against your ancestor, who is just trying to help people through charity. Two: It was me, all along. I took everything from you, then, knowing the future, I changed my looks, quaffed a potion and got buried as Chloe Carson, just to do it all over again, and this time I’ll take your house in Moonlight Falls. Three: I’m…
Daniel: Please, don’t…
Chloe: No? How boring, I was getting excited. Well, I guess div…

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His phone rang, with his crying mother at the other end. Alecia was dead, of old age, and his presence would be required at the funeral. He tried to make some comforting noises, but his mother didn’t seem to be up for a long conversation.
Chloe: What was that about?
Daniel: My grandmother, Alecia, is dead. I have to get back to Moonlight Falls, for the funeral. Gods, that's so sad. We had a sort of connection...

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Chloe: People die all the time. Get her in the ground, and get over it.
Daniel: What the heck… she was Frank’s granddaughter, your…
Chloe: I don’t care, I didn’t know her. Don’t be a wuss, in this game the weak gets eaten, and the strong dance on their graves. Mourning is a waste of time and energy, whipster. You’ve got work to do, and don’t let that wobbly lip get in the way. No Moore-spawn gets to take Villa Carsonia from me. I’ll find her, and when I do, she has two options: To perish by her own hand, or by mine. Call me when you’ve got something.

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He could hear her get going at the piano, but he stood there, stunned by his loss and her utter insensitivity to it. Alecia was her great-grandchild, and she couldn’t care less? He moved slowly towards the stairs, with the thought that Jackson would have his predicted funeral gradually being pushed away by her playing and singing. The music followed him as he walked slowly down the stairs, calling forth more thoughts about the true mental state of his 3x great grandmother…

I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva
I'm gonna go go go
There's no stopping me

I'm burning through the sky yeah!
Two hundred degrees
That's why they call me Mrs Fahrenheit
I'm trav'ling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

Don't stop me now
I'm having such a good time
I'm having a ball


--------------------------------
END OF SEASON 2
Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Intermission: Behind the scenes
« Reply #41 on: October 15, 2017, 10:16:56 AM »
Intermission: Behind the scenes

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Season 1 vs season 2
When I started season 1, I knew how the season would end, but had no more than a couple of scenes planned out, basically just diving into it. Season 2 was exactly the opposite, with lots of scenes planned, and no idea where (or how) I’d end it. Season 1 was very much a learning experience, and could have been much better, in many respects. In season 1, I had the luxury of being able to shoot out of sequence, since the seasons wouldn’t change much, and Daniel would remain a teen. I could also throw out loose ends without worrying too much about following them up. Not so in season 2, where Daniel would grow up, lose his wings, there’d be summer, autumn and winter, a new house, new town buildings, and loose ends to tie up. Season 2 was much harder, but also more rewarding.

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Stop flapping that wing in my face
When I started the story, I thought I would be able to play the game and take acceptable screenshots while playing. I was soon shorn of that illusion. The shots I was getting were like the pictures I take while on holiday: Rubbish. Playing and “shooting” often had to be completely separated, and doing that, I soon made another discovery: Those fairy wings are no problem when you’re playing, heck I’ve played fairies for 8 generations, and gotten so used to the wings that I barely even see them when playing. When I was shooting, however… Trying to minimize the impact of those wings when I was doing close-ups (with Daniel at least partly in the frame, what, 90% of the time?) was turning into a massive chore. The idea of Bai Jiejing and Lo Pan was conceived during season 1, and their sole mission at the time was to somehow clip Daniel’s wings. They won’t come back, ever (the wings, I mean).

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Can’t you just grow up, you little…
My original intention was for Daniel’s teenage phase to last a little longer. After all, that’s why he chose Moonlight Falls as their destination: It had lots of teenage girls, and he could finally get a social life going. The plan was for him to recoup that social life once House Celeste had opened its doors, which would also have given me time to give a couple of the girls some screentime: Larger roles were planned for Maria Younan and Alice Blanestreet. But, as season 2 rolled along, I found myself quickly getting more and more tired of teenage Daniel and his face. Sacrificing his “second” teenage phase allowed me to keep my sanity, and to return to the main story line quicker.

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Another casualty of speeding up Daniel’s life, was their stay at the lawn. Being stuck on the lawn until it got cold would have made the loss of Memory Lane feel greater, and would have provided Daniel with a stronger motivation to go after the person who caused them to be there, but you can’t have it all. Screenshots from a lawn gets old pretty fast, and it was a relief to get them under a roof, with a lot more varied backgrounds.

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All your friends are dead
When I was to make the chapters from “A Different Drum”, I knew I would have to re-shoot quite a lot of shots, as I was lacking enough good shots to make two 25-picture chapters. I was sure it wouldn’t be a problem, as I had a savegame featuring the 2nd and 3rd generations stowed away. Using that savegame, I also planned to highlight how Memory Lane had changed throughout the years. However, when I tried to find that savegame, it no longer existed… Oops. Enter Debug Enabler, and a lot of work: Resurrecting all those dead sims, dressing them up right, styling them, etc… In the end, it became a mix of old shots and recreated ones, and not as good as I had planned.

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...and their pictures are gone too
When I played the first two generations, I had no intention of making a story out of it, and took no screenshots. Stupid and naïve, I actually relied on the memory system to keep track of their lives, editing out irrelevant and minor memories, so they each had their own cute little scrapbook. I would like to have included Kate Carson’s long and illustrious life in the story, as well as the life of the sisters, but there are no screenshots, and this isn’t their story. Their old lives will remain a backdrop, and only if strictly necessary will something be recreated.

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The CASt
I knew Tristan wouldn’t have enough screen-time to be fleshed out as a character, so I felt a sidekick was needed to spice his early scenes up a bit. The choice of Faith MacDuff was more or less random, and she was originally intended to be just comic relief. As I experimented with various silly clothing and looks in CAS, she actually started looking kind of cool, in an off-beat way. With that, her path changed, to a fashion-designer wannabe that was worthy of redemption and a prom date. She will return, at some point (the years pass quickly for the sims…).

I follow strict rules regarding possible CAS changes to all family members: No features but hair (and facial hair) and makeup can be changed, unless dictated by the story. Trent Lane, who was a lamp genie, took plastic surgery to stop being blue, while Alexandria changed her eye color, but apart from that, all family members keep the face and eyes with which they came into the world, whether they were born or summoned by the sim finder app (like Danielle).

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Story sims are sometimes generated through rolling some dice in CAS, and quickly throwing some clothes on them, but a select few get a more detailed design, such as Lynx, Flash, Bai and Lo Pan. Bai took a lot of tweaking to get what I wanted, and she is also the lucky recipient of a selected few CC items, which I generally try to avoid. I don’t get CC for just anyone, there were more scenes planned for Bai in Moonlight Falls, and although that didn’t work out, I have a distinct feeling that we will see Rosebud again.

I’ll miss Alecia. I’ve spent a lot of time with her, she’s gone through a lot, and I felt she was quite well-defined as a character (at least in my mind). Unlike many others, her lines were usually easy to write. Unfortunately, her time was up (and she knew it), age-wise, so she had to go. Daniel will honor her with some flashbacks.

Season 2: Troubled scenes
The shoot introducing Flash and the easterners, done at the stairs of the library, was a nightmare. Despite the relatively small cast, the portrait panel went haywire, generating over 1000 error messages. Due to the stairs, managing the camera was torture, and in addition, I was fighting with time issues (the sun was setting), caused by the camera issues and not being able to pause the game while choosing poses in the pose player. Bill Misfit not seeing much because of his hat was peanuts compared to that…

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During Bai and Lo Pan’s magic show, there were other issues. Once they were at location, in clothing planned specifically for the occasion, they kept switching to their outdoor outfits, which I hadn’t bothered to set up at all. The fact that it was winter, and outdoors, hadn’t featured in my calculations… I also thought Bai would be able to perform her pillar-top contortions on command, being a level 10 acrobat (by virtue of MC), but found that she had to train first. The magic box trick was meant to be different, but Lo Pan also lacked training, and couldn’t pull it off, being washed out of the box every time. Then he died, and I just went with that… The shots I got of Bai falling off the high pillar turned out to be rubbish. Aiming to re-shoot just that, without any audience, I had to wait 4 sim-days for the sun to shine again. It then disappeared again before I could get the shot, and more waiting was in store…

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I had planned for a lot more to happen at the Moonlight Ballroom, and for Daniel not to lose his wings until the next morning. The Ballroom was a downloaded venue, but I put some work into modifying it, and it was supposed to be the very reason Flash had invited the easterners, the really grand opening. When all the sims were in place and I started shooting, the portrait panels started acting up again, big time. I think it was caused by someone leaving the scene, going to work, and me evicting them from the household. Putting my thinking cap on, I sped things up and clipped Daniel’s wings there, changing the focus to Bai and Lo Pan leaving town (which wasn’t supposed to be a scene at all, they were supposed to leave unseen during the night), and introducing James Hoppcraft a bit earlier.

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When I returned to Villa Carsonia, for the first time in 6 generations, I found that the place was no less bug-ridden than it used to be. Nowhere in my game have more sims sunk into the ground or paintings disappeared into thin air than at that lot. It’s probably because it was built prior to me using Nraas mods, and never resetting the place. When returning, I found I could no longer control the lights, having to sell and rebuy the lights I wanted to control, and the place was also infested with spirits, and their accompanying fog. I had to summon Vance and turn him into a ghost-buster to clean the place up, and buydebug-remove all the fog emitters. Only then could I start moving some stuff around and start properly preparing for doing scenes there…

Deleted scenes
There was supposed to have been another world introduced by this stage, and I did a quite a bit of construction and shooting there, but I had to scrap that entire storyline. That was a bit of a blow, but we will get to that world, and I guess I can use some of what I built there.

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I had another plan for putting Daniel on the track of a possible child being born by Esther, and to inform him of Chloe’s academic prowess. The university mascot, which turned out to be a rather attractive girl, would turn up at House Celeste, right after Celeste had been born. Daniel thought she had come for him, but she was there for Celeste, the reason being the legendary status the Carson’s have at Sims Univ. When asked about the status of the Lanes, the mascot listed all Lane attendees, and no Esther Lane… I did some shots with the girl, and even had some romantic plans for her, after making her a resident, but it turned out to be too much of a sidetrack.

The funeral that Jackson predicted was actually supposed to be his brother’s. Daniel would get his car through inheritance, and his return to Sunset Valley would be to investigate the murder, which the police (with one of Corrie’s daughters being the investigator) had written off as an accident: He fell from the roof. I downloaded a chalk outline to place outside Vance’s house, started preparing a news article, and soon got stuck, finding that the whole thing did nothing to advance the main story line.

There’s a new club in Moonlight Falls, where a major scene was supposed to happen, involving both Flash, Bai and Lynx, but that story fell apart. The club is ready, and will possibly appear in some modified version of those scenes in season 3. There’s also a new gym, where Flash was supposed to appear and do some stuff, and it may feature at some later time.

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Keeping in sync
I have no idea how other people manage their “storygames”, and found it to be a challenge after the move to Moonlight Falls. After a while, I had 3 savegames that all contained information I wanted to keep: The main save, with the most up-to-date version of House Celeste and the family. The “teen” save (for the teenager scenes), that featured Lynx, Daniel, Faith and Tristan, all living with Lynx’ foster father, and the only save where Lynx’ room and Faith’s looks were done right, and finally, a save which was up to date with the changes I had made to all community lots. The “teen” save came about with me thinking that I wouldn’t need Lynx’ room when that scene was done, but later, I got an idea that made me want to keep it. What a mess, but it did teach me a couple of lessons (I hope).

Building a house
I’m not an advanced builder, and I’m very slow, especially at decorating (which I do rather sparingly). Watching speedbuild-videos makes me utterly depressed at how bad I am. The houses in the story are built to live in, not as sets, and are usually based on some concept central to the family that will live there. For House Celeste, the central concepts were Jackson’s studio in the tower, and for the house to feel somewhat Victorian, while having some colorful, mood-upping (to me, mostly) rooms. I don’t present floorplans as a part of the story, that would feel artificial, but feel free to ask about ‘em if you’re interested.

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Who stopped the snow?
Isn’t that beautiful? When we left Moonlight Falls, we were 2 days into a forecast of 7 days with heavy snow. Meanwhile, there’s not much weather to be seen in Sunset Valley, either in season 1 or season 2. Yeah, it’s boring, and I miss the weather, but there’s a reason for it: Error 12. The Sunset Valley save is so on the edge that weather will never return to that town.
If fact, Error 12 is the reason this story exists. I’m not much of a writer, but I like it, and it enables me to say goodbye to that savegame in a really protracted way.

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A grumpy director
Yeah, let them hear it, Vanessa: Stop smiling so much! When I do dialogue, I usually try to let the sims engage in, you know, dialogue. Sometimes, I can get something useful out of it, but most of the time, they’re smiling too much, acting too much, and the animations connected with dialogue get repeated pretty fast. Run 3-4 “chat” and you’ll see quite a lot of identical expressions and hand movements. After a while, one does get pretty tired of seeing the sim being talked to placing his/her hand over his heart and smiling a dorky smile. More often than not, it’s not a smile I want, and most sims don’t exactly look their best when they’re smiling.

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Sometimes, he found himself thinking about all the hard work and all the hours his mother had put in to train Zaijian. How many times had she been taking him through the paces, early in the morning, no matter how wet or cold, while he was on the school bus, warm and…
Cut! No, no… Daniel, why are looking at the driver?! Is the driver that interesting? Look to the right, please! You’re not thinking about your mother at all, are you? *Sigh* Hm. Maybe I should have run some facial animation and “look here”, that might have worked…

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Chloe? Why are you standing over there?
Chloe: The lighting here makes me look good.
I can see that, but you’re at the wrong end of the room. You can’t be on the coach, and then suddenly over there.
Chloe: They don’t know where I am.
Maybe not, but I know, and that’s enough. It doesn’t feel right.
Chloe: It’s a good shot. If you don’t use it, you seriously need an IQ boost. Stop complaining and do your stuff. Look, I’m almost smiling.
Don’t. You’re supposed to be serious when doing these lines. Get closer to the coach, please.

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Tristan: …and then, then I’m gonna… I’m gonna…
CUT! Tristan, why are you holding an umbrella?
Tristan: I’m a vampire. It’s daytime.
So? You’re supposed to be the most bad-assed dude at the school, and you’re trying to intimidate someone while holding an umbrella?!
Tristan: Yeah. I need it. I really do! It's in my contract, look: If doing scenes outdoors and during daytime, the actor is entitled to...
Shut up, you wuss...

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Look at the girl, Daniel, and don’t look so miffed! This is supposed to be a little romantic. Come on! Give me something to work with!

That scene at the Scrumptious Nibble, positioned at the edge of the falls, was actually take three of that encounter. The others happened at other places, and were different, in various ways, but they didn’t feel right. One of the others were shot at Little Lennon Café (not introduced in the story), and ended with Bai looking around the table, bemused and confused by the three French tourists that insisted on joining their romantic dinner for two.

At Scrumptious Nibbles, I made several attempts to make Daniel eat his meal at the same table as Bai, but he refused to cooperate of course, sitting down at a different table each time. Each time I ordered him up to get up, his plate disappeared, and he had to go inside to get a new one. Before I gave up, I was tempted to add one of the French tourists to the household and let him have a go at it.
 
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Lynx, can you look a little less stiff, please?
Lynx: Nope.
Can you look a little to the left or right?
Lynx: Nope.
Why not?
Lynx: ‘cause you put me in a friggin’ pose. If you’re gonna use ‘em, better get ‘em right, huh?

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Chloe: *Sigh* I get so tired of this role… I’m a beautiful woman, why do I have to be so super-smart and tough, why can’t I be allowed to be a bit more feminine… Next time, I want to work with another dir…
Chloe! Get off that couch, and back to the other one. And stay in character!

I try some poses now and then, but they rarely work out. I’ve looked at experience’s work and marveled at how good she is with poses, For this story, they usually turn out too dramatic or too “cute”. Since Kate Carson, the women in Daniel’s family have been accustomed to ride rough-shod over their men, and any opposition (with the exception of Esther, and to some extent, Danielle). Usually, I rely on Nraas animator or normal conversations to capture certain expressions, but at some point, someone who displays a bit of femininity and caters more to romance might appear…

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The truth behind the story
Sometimes, the truth is a story, and sometimes, it’s the other way around. With the family history being provided by a 8-generation deep savegame, the vast majority of what is being presented as history did actually happen in-game. Kate did start out in Monte Vista, that house in Crystal Falls was Frank’s idea (not mine!), and Chloe’s ice sculptures did get destroyed. They weren’t destroyed by her sister, but by the game and my carelessness: I came up against the infamous “since you’ve turned on weather, you can no longer build 2nd story walls in this savegame”-bug. Remember that, back in the day? Starting a new game with the lot and family saved to the bin (which took a long, long time), I was well into the new game before I made a shocking discovery: All her ice statues, which was her specialty, having sculpted a host of family and friends, were gone. Just the round, black base of the statues had survived. Doh!  I just had to play on, roleplaying that they had been destroyed by her sister…

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The ups and downs of writing
I’ve found that scenes usually turn out better if I start with the screenshots, and use them to build the dialogue, rather than the other way around. I was very happy with the scene where Faith is asking Daniel to prom, where the shots were done first. Every picture matches very well with what is happening dialogue-wise. Bucket’s little scene was fun to write, and evolved out of the pictures, as did the scene with Maggie Donovan. Most turn out just OK, while some turn out rather disappointing, usually the ones constrained by dialogue. The last chapter, with the long talk between Daniel and Chloe, was dialogue-driven, and didn’t turn out as well as I had wished for, but, it is what it is.

At its heart, this is a tragic story rather than a happy one. Historically, the sims in Daniel’s family have been self-obsessed and deeply ambitious, which has its costs. Because of this, dialogue was a natural refuge. If I was stuck in Daniel’s head all the time, it would become too inward-looking, and too depressing. It would also be harder to write. Even though dialogue often feels like an easy way out, I struggle with giving the characters a personality. What they say, how they say it, and the accompanying screenshots becomes all-important to how they come across, and with English not being my first language, it’s hard! I can’t write “regional” English, I even have trouble distinguishing between English and American words (I had a clue once, now they're mostly just... words). With Danielle, to make her sound a bit English, I try to minimize contractions, and to be somewhat aware of the words I use. Flash is such a caricature that his quasi-gangsta talk becomes a like safe haven, compared to the subtleties of language that would have been required with a more restrained, realistic character.

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I do get a bit sick of dialogue sometimes, or simply look at the material and go: “Geez, that is a lot of dialogue, some sort of internal reflection is required here, as a break”. Writing the two chapters that make up “A Different Drum” felt almost meditative after so doing so much dialogue. I’m fond of long sentences and probably make lots of linguistic mistakes, but that isn’t likely to change, I’m afraid.

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Can they follow the family story at all? Yeah, sometimes I ask myself that… The cast is pretty big, and I rarely slow down to dive into family trees. The trouble with family trees, and talking about them, is that I have serious doubts how entertaining it is. At the beginning of the story, Daniel himself doesn’t care much about it, so why should the reader care? I do hope that sufficient snippets of information are available for interested readers to grasp it, but I’m not really sure. Being able to rattle off the family tree while asleep does warp one’s perspective… Anyhow, there are often some weird issues with the family trees as well: In the picture above (taken before Chloe was resurrected), both of Frank Carson’s sons are shown as being alive, but that’s just because I have removed their tombstones. Why the woman in the bottom right is shown as a baby, I have no idea. She is dead, and was the grandmother of Vance’s current wife, Vanessa…

Season 3
What to expect? Hmm, let’s see. We’ll get some more insight into the lives of generation IV and V of the Lanes, provided by grandpa Jack. We’ll visit 2-3 new worlds (not totally new, but new to the story). The stuff that Lynx is struggling with will be revealed. There'll be more Flash. I’ll try to not introduce too many new characters (and hopefully none whose name starts with the letter A), since there’s already quite a few people involved, but we will get to meet Alyssina’s half-sister, if she exists, and one of the Crumplebottom-sisters (from Moonlight Falls, not Agnes. But Agnes will be mentioned. Perhaps even shown. Why is people so hung up on her…?) will play a central role for a chapter or two. There’ll be many recurring characters, some of whom haven’t been seen in season 2 (which means we’ll visit Sunset Valley again), and I suspect that Daniel will be slightly more romantically involved. Before any of this happens, I’ve got some thinking and some building to do…
Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 3, Chapter 1: The Snows of Yesteryear
« Reply #42 on: January 01, 2018, 10:40:52 AM »
Season 3

The Snows of Yesteryear

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She had seemed a bit melancholic when they last spoke. The very last time.
 
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Looking out the windows, entranced by the snow, she had mumbled something about it being appropriate. He knew what she meant now.

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Snow, falling like the final curtain.

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Alecia Carson. Master Magician, Distinguished Director. Beloved mother and grandmother. RIP.

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Of the townies, only Gladsten had shown up, the only friend she’d had time to make. They were all in black, with not one speck of color between them, save for the blood-tinged ribbons in Celeste’s hair. When put down, she had instinctively crawled towards the tombstone, which had just made them all sob even harder.

In between drying his eyes and sniffling, scattered thoughts jabbed through Daniel’s mind. He kept recalling the family graveyard in Sunset Valley, and the central spine of graves there that represented heirs of the Lane dynasty. His grandmother had been stabbed in the back by those two scheming women, and the spine brutally severed. For decades, they had let her believe she was the heir, and she never was. He thought about his grandfather, and how he ought to be here, to see the grave of the wife he betrayed. He cried for his own loss, the unique bond that they had shared, but mostly he cried for her, with every tear dripping into the snow a letter in a growing testament to how unfairly she had been treated.

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It couldn’t go on forever, and it didn’t surprise him that someone finally spoke up, but it did surprise him that it was his mother.
Danielle: *Sniffle* I want to say something…. *sniffle*
Danielle: Alecia and I were never friends. *Sniffle* We disagreed on everything. I used to think she was a spoiled, uppity old woman… But I was wrong, so wrong. She was principled, but neither uppity nor spoiled. If it had not been for her, we would have been sleeping in the snow, or at best, in some shack. When we got stranded on that lawn, she worked until she fell down from exhaustion, and although I know she hated the outdoors, I didn’t hear a single complaint. *Sniffle* While I was selfishly training Zaijian, she was actively…

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More than once had Daniel awoke in his bed on the lawn, finding his grandmother collapsed by the mailbox, so exhausted that when she finally came home, she hadn’t even made it to her bed. Besides designing the interior of the house and keeping them all fed, she had written two books while tending to her career. When the house was ready, she had, to Daniel’s amazement, even completed the task of upgrading everything in the house.

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Danielle: …love of children. She came home from work two days ago, having finally topped out her career, and bringing the director’s chair with her. I suggested that we’d have a celebration, and she’d sit in the chair, having worked so hard for it. She would not hear of it, declaring that it was just another chair, and not important. Then she took Celeste to the library, and spent the evening there with her. When came back, her face was glowing with happiness… *Sniffle*

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Danielle: I know now, how much she cared for this family, and how hard she worked for it. If I can be half the asset to this family that she was, I will die a happy woman. But I don’t know if I can. Alecia was a hard act to follow, on a big stage. And I will never forget her.

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At the conclusion of her speech, more sobs broke out. The brothers seemed too broken to say anything, and everybody else was content with Danielle saying what needed to be said. Soon, the small standing parade around her grave disintegrated into hugs and muffled words representing futile attempts at consolation. His mother was shaking as they put their arms around each other.

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Danielle: It is you and me now. *Sniffle* We have to take charge, for Jackson and Celeste.
Daniel: It’ll be all right, mom.
Danielle: Will it? I’m just a stupid horsewoman.
Daniel: No you’re not. Your speech was magnificent.
Danielle: No, I am, and I’m scared, Daniel.
Daniel: I’m just a stupid PI, but I guess we’ll have to make the best of it.
He tried to sound like a man imbued with confidence, but the truth was that he was scared too. Alecia had always known what to do, and it was her leadership that had gotten them off the lawn.

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Taking the lead again, Danielle invited the attendants to a gathering at House Celeste, asking that they’d leave their sorrow behind at the graveyard, and look to the future. Gladsten, being the only non-family member, excused himself from the proceedings, but received warm thanks for having come. Daniel told him that if he ever needed a PI, he’d do it for free. Gold-digger or not, he had been very helpful, and always shown Alecia great respect. As Danielle led the entourage through the gate, Daniel thought to himself that his grandmother had deserved a far bigger crowd for her final act.

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In light of the new information he had acquired in Sunset Valley, and with his uncle at hand (and his grandmother permanently unavailable), Daniel couldn’t help pulling him aside and asking him a few questions about the woman they had known as Alexandria Lane. Unfortunately, Vance was clearly not in the mood, quickly brushing him off by stating that he had already told Daniel all he knew.
 
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Danielle: …was all Alecia’s work. It’s a bit eccentric, but we’ve grown to like it.
Vanessa: It’s very colorful. A bit too much for me, I think.
Danielle: Vanessa, I don’t think I know your family. Do they come from Sunset Valley?
Vanessa: The Funke family moved in 4 generations ago. They married into various other families over the years, so I have both Lane and Carson heritage, believe it or not.
Danielle: Are your parents still alive?
Vanessa: No. My mother, Shelly, died recently. My father died just after I was born, when a freak fire broke out at the Port-A-Party.
Danielle: I’m so sorry.
Daniel thought he might know who started that fire, and who had paired Vance up with his wife. As a descendant of both sisters, she carried the hallowed traits of Kate and her daughters: Black hair and brown eyes. Alecia wouldn’t have picked just anyone for her blue-eyed boy.
Vanessa: He never did anything right, I’ve heard. No great loss.
Danielle: Oh…

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An awkward silence erupted, with Danielle clearly unsure about how to deal with what seemed to be another hard-nosed woman in the Carson mold.
Daniel: Did Alecia visit you regularly?
Vanessa: Sure. I knew her better than I knew my mother, I think.
Danielle: But… Why did I not see you at Memory Lane? Neither of you ever visited. Until recently, I wasn’t even aware that Jackson had a brother.
Vanessa: Really? Well, it’s because of our work. Alecia was adamant about keeping up appearances.
Daniel: What is it you do, Vanessa?

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Vanessa: On paper, I’m a chef. I’ve read some cooking books, but I’m awful. Pray that I’ve ordered pizza if you’re ever invited for dinner. I work at the Corsican Bistro, officially.
Daniel: Officially? But you’re not really working there?
Vanessa: Gods, no. I’d ruin the place in an instant. I stay at home mostly, doing paperwork for Vance, and the Bistro pays me as if I’m a chef.
Danielle: I don’t understand. Why do they pay you if you are not working there?
Vanessa: Because it’s in their best interest.

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Danielle: I still don’t understand… What is it you do, Vance?
Daniel: Mom, I’m not sure you want to know…
Danielle: Of course I want to know. There is so much I still don’t know about this family, and that has to stop.
Vance: Well, I… fix things.
Danielle: You are a handyman?
Vanessa: I wish…
Vance: No… no… I fix people things, so to speak.
Danielle: You are a psychologist?
Vanessa: He’s a thug.

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Vance: No I’m not. I just keep the wheels turning. Or kept, until you moved. Doing diplomatic…
Vanessa: Don’t lie. You’re a thug and a thief.
Vance: Sometimes I’d pay people, sometimes I’d talk to them…
Vanessa: Bribe and intimitade, you mean. I keep track of it all, he’s not great at remembering.
Vance: I was just a cog in the machine, working for Alecia. Keeping things smooth.
Vanessa: Mad Dog Vance, the most feared man in Sunset Valley.
Danielle: Why would Alecia need to…
Daniel: We were like mobsters, mom. We ran Sunset Valley.
Danielle: Wow. I never had any idea…
Vance: Anyhow, that’s all in the past. I’m retired now, and…
Vanessa: You’re still thieving.
Vance: Yes, well… We’re moving, and there’ll be no more of that in Lucky Palms.

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Danielle: What?! We barely got to know you, if you are moving, you should come here!
Vanessa: The climate here isn’t exactly…
Danielle: We’re family! We should stick together, Alecia would have wanted that.
Daniel: There are plenty of nice houses here, even some new mansions.
Vance: It’s too late! We’ve already bought a house in Lucky Palms.
Daniel: You could sell it.
Vanessa: Vance has promised me we’ll move to Lucky Palms. If he sells that house, I’m afraid he might somehow seriously cut himself while shaving.
Danielle: The snow isn’t that bad, it’s kind of beautiful here in winter.
Vanessa: It’s settled, I’m afraid.

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Danielle: That’s so sad. We have to visit each other, then. Wouldn’t that…
Regina: Can we go home soon?
It wasn’t until Regina started nagging that he absorbed the obvious fact that a second trophy now occupied the coffee table. While he’d been in Sunset Valley, his mother had cleared the second hurdle of the challenge she had set herself, winning the international showjumping. Mickey Lane had spent half his life attacking the cross-country, with a unicorn trained from birth, and luxurious spas and high-class nectar at his disposal, getting 4 wins. The ordeal had broken him, and now it was his mother’s turn to take it on.

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As he watched them leave, he noticed how Vance’s new car was a far cry from the old one. Mad Dog Vance in an environmentally-friendly Toyota? He had to be serious about changing his ways. Now, they would be worlds apart, on divergent paths, and the glue that had held them together was gone. As they walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he would never see them again.

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He could hear his mother take Celeste upstairs, and shuffled around aimlessly in the silence that followed. His father had to be up in the tower, painting or brooding. Soon, he came upon the chair. Alecia had topped out her career on her last day at work, bringing it home without ceremony, even though she had been in that career his whole life. No celebration. The Lane way. His heart felt as empty as the chair.

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She had always been around, and was as much a mother to him as a grandmother. It had been her that he could talk with. It had been her that he had played with, while his mother had been busy with the horses. While his parents had been kept in the dark about the family business and the family history, she had let him know. She had trusted him enough to make him her heir, not knowing the great trick that had been played on them.

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How could Alyssina hate her family so much that she would leave it all to a half-sister, the latter so set on revenge that she was willing to dedicate over 40 years of her life to wipe out their legacy? What had Alecia done, beside being herself? She had earned her place, sticking with the family despite the flight of her cheating husband, and they had taken it from her. To him, she would always be the last Master of the House at Memory Lane, and an extremely capable and loving…

Get her in the ground, and get over it.

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Yeah… One Carson was gone, but another one had returned from the dead. If he hadn’t been so eager to use the lamp, he could have brought Alecia back instead of her. It was too late now, having unleashed the beauty and the beast in one package: The most brilliant mind their families had ever produced, a mind also showing clear tendencies of her being a remorseless psychopath. He had promised to track down the woman who had played them like fools, and in a matter of hours, Chloe had accomplished more than he had in years, turning the whole story upside down. In searching for a woman with no name, one who knows the future, Chloe would be a powerful ally, but she would run the show, and expect him to follow. Would she have any qualms about turning it into a horror show? Could he trust her at all? What was her agenda? She had called him a pawn in someone else’s game when they first met. If she had her own game, he had little doubt that she would do everything to capture that pawn, and that her game would be played on a level he would have no hope of understanding.
Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Agathon

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 3, Chapter 1: The Snows of Yesteryear
« Reply #43 on: January 07, 2018, 05:52:36 PM »
Three Strikes and Out


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Daniel: I think it’s that one. The square one.
Celeste: No…
Daniel: It is! I’m sure!
Celeste: No! Trick!
Daniel: Am I trying to trick you?
Celeste: Yes…
Daniel: Which one is it, then?
Danielle: Daniel, you have a client. But it’s just Bucket…
Daniel: *Sigh* Can you tell him to come back tomorrow?
Danielle: I can, but I need you to do something.

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Daniel: OK, what?
Danielle: I need you to talk to your father. He has some… motivational issues, and doesn’t want to paint.
Daniel: I guess he’s still broken up by grandma’s death.
Danielle: I’m sure he is, but we must get on with our lives. We need him working, and Celeste needs a father. Make him understand that.
Daniel: But can’t you…
Danielle: He doesn’t always listen to me, you know that. But he might listen to you.

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When Daniel went to his room and got dressed, he glanced out the window, and caught sight of his father standing in the garden. He was motionless, and wearing clothes that few sane individuals would choose for heavy snowfall. Daniel muttered to himself, fearing that his father had suffered a serious mental setback.

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Daniel: He’s in the back garden, in shorts and a T-shirt.
Danielle: Who?
Daniel: Pops!
Danielle: Don’t be silly, he was just in our room, and I would have heard him going down the stairs.
Daniel: I saw him, through the windows!
Danielle: That’s not possible. You must be imagining things.

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Daniel: Pops?!
There was no reply, and his father was nowhere to be seen. Daniel checked the windows, but he couldn’t see him in the garden either. Straining his eyes, he could make out a single pair of footprints in the snow. Scratching his head, he suddenly heard some low, wimpish noises from the far end of the room.

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Dumbfounded, Daniel struggled with the concept of his father being two places at once, at then it dawned on him. The figure he had seen in the garden wasn’t of this time. It was his father of some 20 years ago, traveling to the future on her behest. He was chasing a woman with no name, and no face, who had known all that time where they’d live. He had known it was so, but only now did it seem real. As more wimpish noises escaped his father, he pushed his darkening thoughts back and tried focusing on the problem at hand.
Daniel: Pops, what are you doing?
Daniel: Pops! Look at me!
Jackson: I can’t.
Daniel: Can’t what?
Jackson: Paint…
Daniel: Why not?
Jackson: I never painted, her. I should have.
Daniel: Alecia?
Jackson: Of course. I can’t paint. Can’t.
Daniel: Stand up.
Jackson: No.
Daniel: Jackson Lane! Stand up! Now!

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Having scheduled a meeting with Chancer, he didn’t have time to stroke his father’s feelings, and took another approach. He knew Alecia had had several ways to try to control her son, and that uncompromising commands were one of them, though she seldom resorted to that. It worked, as his father slowly shambled into a standing position, still not able to meet his eyes, and clasping his arms in a neurotic fashion.
Daniel: Are you an artist?!
Jackson: Yes…
Daniel: Are you a Carson, like Alecia, Brook, Kate and her daughters?!
Jackson: Yes…
Daniel: Then you work, for the benefit of your family. And your daughter needs a father, not some whimpering wreck.
Jackson: I can’t. Paint…
Daniel: If you can’t paint, you’ll invent, or sculpt. What will it be?
Jackson: I can’t…
Daniel: Choose! Invent or sculpt?
Jackson: Spulct.
Daniel: Good. Now, we’ll get into my car, and get you registered at City Hall as a sculptor. Get your clothes on.

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Having driven his father to City Hall and back again, Daniel took a detour to check out Lynx’s house. It looked dead, and only the vague, grey shapes of furniture gave it away as being inhabited. There were no obvious signs of someone breaking and entering, so they were probably still safe. What the heck had happened to her, and how long did they intend to keep this up?

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Jefferson Gym wasn’t the most obvious place to schedule a business meeting, but Flash’s new place, being a converted library, did offer some comforts that most gyms didn’t.
Daniel: I need some advice in tracking down information on someone.
Chancer: Who?
Flash: Das it, you da girl…
Daniel: Maureen Sw0rd, of Sunset Valley. I tried calling City Hall, but they just brushed me off, saying they don’t keep files on people, and that I’d have to do geneaology on my own.
Chancer: What are you trying to find?
Flash: such a fiiiiiine wuman as yousself…
Cheri: Oh Flash…
Daniel: I’m not sure. Someone said she was “damaged goods”. An illness? A scandal? Something in the history of her family?
Chancer: Nothing concrete? That could be a lot of work.

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Flash: …my crib.
Cheri: …have to live there?
Daniel: I know...
Flash: …keepin’ me entertained, baby.
Chancer: I may be able to help you out. I have a source there, at City Hall.
Cheri: …not sure I like the sound of…
Daniel: Ok…
Chancer: I can look into it, but I won’t do it for free.
Daniel: Exclusive rights, if anything turns up.
Flash: …ya own suite, and shiiii…
Chancer: If it doesn’t, 250 an hour.
Daniel: That could bleed me dry if it drags on.
Flash: …two more, baby. It ain’t gonna be just…
Chancer: So, we limit it. 20 hours at a time?
Daniel: Then I pay, and give the OK for 20 more, if I can afford it?

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Cheri: …don’t wanna…
Chancer: Yeah, would that work?
Flash: …moolah. 6G’s.
Daniel: That works.
Cheri: …week!?
Chancer: Any idea where I should begin? Might save you some money.
Flash: ...baby, Flash got them…
Daniel: Not really. Damaged… Illness, maybe. The woman who said it worked as a doctor.
Chancer: Ok, I’ll start there.
Cheri: Ok… I’ll do it, Flash.

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Returning home, Daniel found that Bucket was still waiting, having been joined by two more potential clients.
Daniel: One of the ladies first, perhaps…?
Bucket: No way! I’ve been here for hours!
Annalove: What a gentleman you are, Bucket...
Deedee: Let him go. I’ll go last.

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Daniel: So Bucket, what can I help you with?
Bucket: I need your car. And the plutonium Jackson gave you.
Daniel: Why do you need my car?
Bucket: I must travel around, to organize the resistance.
Daniel: The resistance against…?
Bucket: You know. The alien invasion!
Daniel: That again. I need my car too, so this isn’t going to…
Bucket: I can pay! I have a pink diamond! I found it in the catacombs!
Daniel: Sorry Bucket, I don’t need a pink diamond, and I like my car.
Bucket: I need the plutonium to make bombs. Someone must fight them! I’m begging you!
Daniel: No trade, I’m afraid. Goodbye, Bucket.
Bucket: You’ll regret it when they come! We’ll all be on our knees!

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Daniel: Geez, it’s pouring down outside. The snow is gone already.
Annalove: I heard about your grandmother. Condolences.
Daniel: Thank you. How’s your daughter doing?
Annalove: She’s a painter now, barely earning a penny.
Daniel: And your husband?
Annalove: We’re divorced.
Daniel: Oh. Well, good for you. Now, what can I do for you?
Annalove: Are you familiar with the island of Bungo-Bungo?
Daniel: I can’t say I am.

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Annalove: Since little else can grow there, the island has gradually developed to become the world’s leading producer of plasma fruit, albeit of a rather poor quality. Most of the fruit is turned into plasma juice. The islanders, not being vampires, are dependent on the only other food source found on the island: The Bungo-beetle.
Daniel: This is all very interesting, but…
Annalove: The beetles live on bushes that has long, horrible, prickly thorns, and they are plucked by the children, as only their small fingers can…
Daniel: I think I’ve heard about this before. Annalove, what is it you want me to do?
Annalove: To go there, catch some beetles, and bring them to me.
Daniel: Why?
Annalove: They are wonderful source of nutrients, and I want to start a beetle-farm. We should all take a page out the islander’s book, as eating insects is completely environmentally-friendly. It is the future! I can’t pay you anything, but I can promise you a hefty discount on your beetle purchases. Shall we say 60%?

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Daniel: What?! My salary will be to eat cheap beetles?!
Annalove: Not satisfactory? OK, how about a share in the beetle-farm? 20%.
Daniel: No, no, no…
Annalove: 25%? Think about the environment! Think about our future!
Daniel: I am! And the answer is no!

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Deedee: …I like this guy, and… well… I don’t know if he likes me…
Daniel: This doesn’t sound like a job for a PI, Deedee.
Deedee: Well, I thought you could… find it out for me.
Daniel: Why can’t you just ask him?
Deedee: What if he doesn’t like me? That would kill me!
Daniel: Come on, it isn’t that bad. You’re a nice girl, and…
Deedee: Am I?
Daniel: Yeah! Why wouldn’t…

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Deedee: Thank you! I’m so happy you said that.
Daniel: OK… What does this guy do, anyway, is he some kind of super-rich…
Deedee: No… I don’t think so.
Daniel: What does he do, then?
Deedee: That’s just it, you see. He’s a PI…

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With Little Lennon Café just down the road, the easiest way to deal with Deedee was to appease her with an immediate date. She came on strongly, and he didn’t put up as much resistance as he should have done. Soon, she was talking about announcing their engagement within the week, and their marriage within a month. The whole thing was so rushed that felt more than a little detached, but he managed to talk vaguely about needing a little more time before committing.

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With no new cases to work, he followed Chloe’s suggestion and put in a night shift looking into the Arcadia Foundation. While the foundation itself was fairly transparent, and seemed legit, what had happened to the 14.6 million was not. The money seemed to have been split, some being allocated to other foundations and charities, and most of it into various mysterious trusts. For a while, he was tempted to give up, and it was only by keeping his grandmother in mind that he managed to stick it out. By all rights, this was her money. Deep into the night, having tracked down a host of tax returns and yearly reports, some facts were starting to emerge, and one fact above all: Money had been spent, so fast that there was probably little left.

Several sums in the 500-900 000 range had been allocated to agricultural institutions, such as Riverview Agriresearch and AP Ecological Produce. And there was that place again: Bungo-Bungo Agricultural Center, being the beneficiary of half a million. If the Arcadia Foundation was fighting world hunger, donations to agricultural research made perfect sense. More interesting was the fact that a single institution, through various channels, seemed to have swallowed up donations approximating 8 million: Starlight Shores Biogenetics Institute.

Full of hope, he started looking at that institution, and quickly discovered that it had ceased to exist over a year ago. The search engines still turned up their webpage, containing nothing but a cheap logo and an extremely short blurb:

Starlight Shores Biogenetics Institute is a non-profit organization dedicated to the research and eradication of diseases affecting biological organisms.

It wasn’t the kind of webpage designed to attract donors, which indicated that SSBI might have had only one, and no interest in acquiring others.

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As he walked through the dark house on the way to his bed, the sight of the room they had dubbed Alecia’s Lounge brought forth thoughts of his grandmother. An uncharacteristic moment of inspiration occurred, as he suddenly knew how infuse some purpose into his father’s work.

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Daniel: Doc, it’s Daniel Carson.
Doc Youngblood: You again? What is it now?
Daniel: A medical emergency. We’ve had an outbreak of a disease in Moonlight Falls…
Doc Youngblood: Why are you calling me? I’m retired!
Daniel: I know that, Doc, but we need some advice. We need to get in contact with someone who might have done research on this disease.
Doc Youngblood: What disease?
Daniel: Eh… well, we can’t identify it. But you have a wide network of connections in the medical world…
Doc Youngblood: Yes…
Daniel: …and maybe you can point us in the direction of someone who might be able to nail it down. One of the doctors here suggested we track down someone from Starlight Shores Biogenetics Institute, as they’re supposedly…
Doc Youngblood: Dr. Brendan Whittaker.
Daniel: Does he live In Starlight Shores?
Doc Youngblood: As far as I know. Goodbye, Mr. Carson.

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Daniel: Working with metal, pops?
Jackson: I don’t like, it.
Daniel: Why not?
Jackson: Should have spulcted her.
Daniel: Well, can you?
Jackson: No. Can’t see. No backflashes.
Daniel: You know the statue in Alecia’s Lounge?
Jackson: Yes…Alexia Full of Hair.
Daniel: Exactly. I’m going to thrash it, and I want you to sculpt a new one. It’ll be called Alecia Full of Hair.
Jackson: Yes… but… I don’t know, how.

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Daniel: You will learn how, just like Brook did with the unicorns.
Jackson: In stone? Big and tall, and…
Daniel: You bet. And it won’t just be for me. It’ll be for her.
Jackson: For her… of course! She will see it, from above!
Daniel: She will! Can you do it?
Jackson: I will try!
Daniel: Try hard! Make it good!

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Daniel: I’m going to Starlight Shores.
Danielle: Really? What about all your cases?
Daniel: I don’t have any cases right now.
Danielle: What?! You had three clients yesterday!
Daniel: One of them was Bucket. And none of them panned out.
Danielle: Panned out? Are you taking this job seriously?! We have bills to pay!
Daniel: I’m sure it’ll…
Danielle: We have lost Alecia’s income, I’ll be earning precious little while racing the cross-country, and your father isn’t painting! Where is the money supposed to come from?!
Daniel: Me… I guess?
Danielle: You better not be guessing!

Worlds Apart - Can Be Found Here

Offline Audren

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Re: Worlds Apart - Season 3, Chapter 2: Three Strikes and Out
« Reply #44 on: January 07, 2018, 11:19:27 PM »
I just finished reading through this story. I absolutely love the depth of this family and reading through their journey! The behind-the-scenes intermission post was also quite enlightening. Can't wait to continue following this story!