Chapter 1: Be My Demon Bride
They had lived there for a short time before then, enough to establish themselves in their careers. If they were ever the subject of gossip, the gossipers soon learned that they had little to accuse those two of, and instead confirmed what was concrete about them. In a relationship, probably. One was a man, the other was a woman. The man grew coffee in his modest garden, and roasted it at home. He sold his dark, robust beans at the elixir shop at a markup, and each shipment sold out within a day once Barnacle Bay learned how his product could enhance their pots. Why yes, every kitchen needed a bag from Gemini Coffee Roasters in their pantries.
While he started out raiding other people’s gardens, he quickly stopped once his first coffee beans ripened on the vine. He sent Mr. Coastal a check for his troubles, a check from the account of Almeisan I. Melange. Jake called the police, but the case was dropped. Almeisan paid his dues, and even put a bag of his first coffee batch in Mr. Coastal’s mailbox.
Otherwise, Almeisan divided his time between his home garden, the elixir shop, and the library. At first, the librarian had one hand on the phone, ready to call Animal Control over the silver monster thumbing through her bookshelves.
But all he took was a book about gardening, specifically about gardening in the balmy climate of Barnacle Bay. He didn’t leave plasma on the sofa, nor did he curse the entire building. Almeisan read. He pouted when it was closing time, and when the librarian had to almost rip him from the couch so she could lock the door, but he never fought with her physically. No fangs sank into her neck, and no claws broke her skin.
Plus, if Almeisan was sharing a town with pirate cosplayers, he had a right to be there. Why stop at one form of weirdness?
Soon after Almeisan arrived in town, with a companion, it was apparent that he and the other one were close cuddle-buddies. She paid for drinks at Aquarius one night with her credit card. The name on it was Grazia DiPasquale. Almeisan did not have papers or cards from a previous residence that pointed to anywhere in the world, but Grazia came with her birth certificate and high school diploma. She got her bronzed skin from the sunny hills of Monte Vista.
Passersby noticed the couple more and more when they drove past their remote lot on the edge of the main island. Perhaps the wedding planners of the town hoped for it to last.
Although their lines of works did not intersect, Almeisan and Grazia spent their time at home together in the same room, or fenced-in enclosure. Just out of range of the sprinklers, Grazia slaved over sketches and angles while her partner dug through the dirt with his bare hands, caking brown grime under his long fingernails. While he could have made an alliance with Grazia over the coffee production, she had a different set of ambitions.
“The houses here are so plain,” she complained, 30 minutes after arriving in Barnacle Bay for the first time, “I think I can find my own work here.”
Her first assignment involved a pink kitchen. How fitting for Grazia. Alice GilsCarbo paid up after a quick double-take at the sun-kissed, buxom designer in the pink summer dress. In comparison to her boyfriend’s job, architecture paid pennies. Hipsters didn’t consume architecture like they did to cups of French pressed coffee. She always forgot to cash her checks after marveling over the thousands Almeisan made a day with his coffee beans.
“Funny if he took over the market with these,” some townfolk said.
“He’ll turn the whole town into a coffee grove!” said others.
If only they knew.
Almeisan did all of his business talk over pots of hot drinks. At first, Grazia was the closest thing he had to a colleague, even though she didn’t want dirty hands from gardening, or anything to do with Almeisan’s business practices. He studied at a radical school of thought, she always said, to justify it. It’s just the way he was raised, she thought in order to sleep well each night. She couldn't tell herself those things if she got actively involved.
He poured her a cup of chamomile to each her apprehensions. “Nothing bad will happen to the townsfolk. They’ll be compensated with delicious Gemini beans. Understand, dollface?”
“I do. Just keep me out of your family’s ruthless business. Well, the direct line. I’m stuck here serving you guys.” She took her first sip of honey-sweetened chamomile after that.
“Though I think I can easily forget about that tonight. This brew is almost as divine as your abs,” she said. Almeisan looked down at his tummy and smiled at the rippling muscle underneath.
His line of work was one thing. Grazia held no bad intentions behind redesigning the homes of Barnacle Bay, though Odessa Cross begged to differ. Her new powder room was far too subdued, even with cheddar-orange wallpaper.
But Grazia could get good reviews for most of her work, even the lazy jobs done on days when she was pooped after an all-nighter fueled by Gemini Coffee and sketches demanding to be completed. Gil Lai asked for nooboo furniture and he got it. There was no arguing it for him, especially with a little one making him even more tired and lazy than Grazia.
Almeisan had his own shortcuts too. A few bags of coffee beans bought him a dark jade-colored egg, straight from Dragon Valley. He practiced for any future nooboos of his own by baby-talking to the egg on the floor. He even gave the green dragon that was nestled inside the shell a name: Mekbuda. Mek was as important to Gemini Coffee Roasters as his namesake was to the constellation of Gemini.
With that in mind, Almeisan and Mekbuda had a lot of work ahead of them. Almeisan silently prayed for the day to come when he could just get a few sims to do that work, instead of a beautiful reptile.
Regardless, the partnership of sim and dragon resulted in countless thousands of dollars in revenue for Almeisan. He had plenty left to spare. He went to the jewelers’ shop to get his facial jewelry replaced, and walked out with new earrings and a side purchase. He took Grazia to Port-a-Party, with a rectangular bulge in his back pocket.
It was a proposal heard from downstairs. “Be my demon bride,” he said, not even giving her the room of a question.
However, it wasn’t like Grazia was questioning it. Just the audience downstairs. If anything, Grazia was a cute Monte Vista girl falling for a demon groom. The whole town warmed up to her glowing warm colors faster than they tolerated Almeisan’s light silver skin, constant shirtlessness, and his nose ring and chain.
Almeisan celebrated, and made his first batch of friends.
He paid little attention to the scantily-clad party dancer, however, sitting Alec Trebo down with a smooth cup of Gemini’s new light roast. Alec still ogled the dancer over his teacup, but Almeisan never made eye contact with her. He wanted to show off his drinks and the wallpaper much more.
The guests left, wide awake thanks to their host pumping them full of caffeine. One of them stayed to the groove of darkwave, wiggling his bum to some Bastille. Almeisan had no reason to lead him out, so he brewed another pot of coffee and changed out of his oppressive shirt and vest combo.
“Name?” Almeisan asked, “I’ll admit, I trusted the lady with the guest list.”
“Juan Inkbeard, um, junior. Dude, you’d totally rock the night with this stuff. I always want more ways to party ‘til dawn.” Juan drank his cup in under a minute. “Any cool dance moves from where you’re from?”
“Not that I know of. It’s very nice to meet you, Juan.”
“So Grazia’s your lady, huh?” Juan asked.
“Why yes. She’s a doll.”
“I’m going to judge you, man, but she’s a little freaky.”
“How so?” Almeisan asked, “And as if I’m not freaky too.”
“She’s something else. She designed this wicked party room at my place, and we danced for a bit and it all seemed cool…”
“…But then I called my mum and she said that Grazia gave her a new exercise room and did something pretty dang weird.”
“And then the last thing she saw was a werewolf in pink. You know, like Grazia is.”
“Well, you must be a smart young man,” Almeisan said. He clapped his hands. “That’s what I like about her.”
Grazia lunged out of the master bedroom on all fours, in her feral state. Her growls echoed throughout the room. Juan shot up from his chair to bolt out the front door or hop out a window once he saw the beast in the flesh. However, a wild Grazia got to him first.
She threatened Juan with her claws and fangs, sending him back.
“What the hell, Al?” he asked, hastily, “What the hell is up with you two?”
“I’m here on business, and I assure you, Grazi-dear is harmless. I’m what you want to look out for. Little by little, you’ll be choked by my coffee bushes and the whole town will answer to me and market my beans far and wide.”
“Dude…” Juan said, in a low voice.
“My demon bride and I have a lot of work to do for that to happen. It’s getting late. Remember to buy my beans. I have a new batch ready for shipment tomorrow morning.”
He gave Grazia a scratch behind the ear as Juan sprinted out the door. “As long as my family likes it, I think we’re in a good place, dollface.”
