'Interviews' With Characters

Many apologies everyone, for not keeping up regular updates on this drama series. I hadn't realised just how HUGE this series had become (in characters, world building etc...).

So, for a little 'break' (and the fact that recently I've become disillusioned with Sims 2).....
I've decided to do something different.

To try to get into the minds of my characters, I've decided to slot in (occasionally) an interview or two. What I basically need, is everybody who has been following the series, to tell me which characters' personal thoughts they'd like to read about.

I shall post a poll, and renew it (hopefully) each month, so that I can add in another interview.
Hope that makes sense.

I was originally going to add this to my own Sims 2 forum, Cosy Corner Sims 2 - Home
But decided against it, as these interviews are more appropriate here.

Ephraim's 'Rainy Day'

He knew the score with vampires ... he'd seen the movies ... read the books. But where the fuck could you get hold of holy water, garlic, a wooden stake and especially bright sunlight ... at midnight, here on board a yacht, moored off shore?

A fucking vampire!!!

He could only watch helplessly, as the creature called Caleb, snarled and writhed before him. Sam also realised that any movement (if he could even manage any) would be useless, as vampires were notoriously fast ... lightning fast.

Before he could blink an eyes, Caleb would be onto him, sinking his teeth into Sam's neck and drinking his blood...

There was a sound ... like glass shattering. Ephraim cursed, snapping his head up. His companion, Barnaby, a huge hulking Bull Mastiff, lifted his old head up and growled, baring his teeth.



"Damned kids," he muttered, snapping his lap top closed, "S'okay buddy, I gotcha."

Usually, Ephraim, once in 'the Zone', could write for hours, often forgetting the time until his eyes started watering from looking at the screen. But not today. Thanks to yet another bout of vandalism, his concentration had been cruelly broken, his creative juices drying up in mid flow.




Just as he was getting to the best part of the story.

He leaned down and scratched behind Barnaby's ear, and was rewarded with a snuffle and a heavy thumping tail.

If it wasn't enough, having adoring ... yet, VERY creepy fans, chipping souvenirs from the gargoyles guarding the front entrance of his mansion. It was drunken teenagers throwing stones at the windows for a dare. Thank goodness they hadn't touched the commissioned window he'd had created. A scene from one of his books no less. If they'd touched that one, there'd be hell to pay.

Being a successful Gothic/Horror writer, was no easy task for Ephraim (real name Julius).

Having to meet deadlines, checking in with his agent for any signing dates he may have missed. Answering his ever increasing fan base. It was little wonder he managed to actually sit down and write stuff. But would he swap this for the world?

Hardly.

This was his chance to shine. And he did so spectacularly.




Thank goodness for his haven. This beautiful 17th century mansion with it's stone work and Gothic influences. He could hide away in here and let his imagination run riot.

There was just one thing that really bothered him. Because of it's apparent 'spookiness'. Darkling Manor had gained its own notoriety and attracted people from all walks of life. But to Ephraim, it was ... home. With it's thickly built stone walls and solid architecture.



However .... even with the security in place, there was always a risk of someone breaking in. He feared the day that a deranged fan would confront him..... or steal away Barnaby, his faithful companion and lifelong friend.


They'd been through so much together. From the minute he set eyes upon this ugly little puppy with its squashed up nose and 'screw you' attitude. That's what brought the two of them together.

Along with his passion for writing, and his love of Barnaby, Ephraim adored his fans... truly. But there were some out there that had difficulty distinguishing real life from fiction. And that's what truly scared him.

It didn't help that he dressed the part too. Especially those piercing, amber eyes and that pale, bone white skin.

They were his trademark, that coincided with the overall 'look'. That was his style and he was comfortable with it. If anybody had any problems with the way he dressed... tough. There was no way he was going to change. Not now, not ever.

He'd been interviewed on several occasions, and each time, the same questions always cropped up.

Are those eye for real? Or are they contacts? Is that make-up you're wearing, or are you truly a vampire? Do you ever go out in the sun? Your skin is so pale.

Ephraim could only smile secretively, saying nothing at all, keeping that air of mystery around him at all times. And it worked.... to a degree.

Pinching his nose and scrunching his eyes, he sighed deeply. He had to take a look, see the damage for himself, and hope that there was nobody standing there waiting for him. Sure enough, laid on the floor was a scattering of shattered glass and in the middle, a mis-shapen rock. The shards twinkled in the moonlight as Ephraim felt the breeze coming from the jagged gap. He was growing tired of this vandalism. All because the mansion itself had a history behind it. He loved the place and was reluctant to give it up just yet.

Sighing again, he went in search of the dust pan and brush, and the roll of duct tape he kept handy too. He was getting fairly adept with quick repairs lately, and resumed cleaning up the mess and taping up the window.

There was only one thing for it.
He had to move.
And the mansion was coming with him.

Dry of his creative 'flow', he went back to his lap top and logged online to check out costs for transportation of the entire building .... and came across an accomplished real estate/property developer called Alec Thompson. His web page had recommendations by the bucket load and his business was indeed reputable. It also mentioned that he was residing in a sleepy little village called Cloverdale.

From what he'd seen....
.... surrounded by mountains, a great black lake and plenty of acreage everywhere....
... it was idyllic....
Actually, it was perfect....




There was just a small matter of finding out if Alec was up to the task.
Money was no object, as Ephraim had spent little of it, saving the rest for a rainy day.

And today, that rainy day had just arrived.
In the nick of time.

A Tale of Three 'Muses'

Sonia felt so privileged... so happy... so....

Words couldn't really describe exactly how she felt, but she was definitely elated. She was married to a most wonderful (if not anal, but that's a whole different kettle of fish story) man called Andrew who bought her whatever she wanted... within reason (and depending on their budget of course).

He was her first 'Muse'.



Buddy, a great doofus of a St Bernard, was her second.

Her third Muse was about to come crashing into her life pretty soon. Whether she liked it or not.

It was a fairly bright sunny day, but the clouds were gathering. So, to keep herself occupied, she decided to sequester herself in her study to paint.


Andrew was at work, and her only other companion was Buddy, a big, St Bernard dog whose task it was, was to destroy furniture. Especially when he was bored or wanted to go for a walk.

Like today.

Barely even putting acrylic to the canvas, Sonia heard the distinctive sound of fabric ripping and dashed into the front room, just in time to see Buddy, his head buried deep in the stuffing of an old, saggy, but very comfortable settee.



Gasping out loud, Sonia's eyes filled with tears as she could watch with mounting horror at the scale of his destruction.



Money was tight at present and they couldn't really afford to replace any of the furniture. The restoration of the cottage took a huge chunk out of their savings as it is.

"Oh, good Lord... Buddy!" she wailed, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and hauling him bodily away.

Not used to having any pets, she was having difficulty maintaining boundaries with this head strong animal. Besides, this old settee was a favourite of Buddy's. He'd targeted it, the very minute he arrived home from the dog shelter. Rolling all over it, ragging the edges to bits....

Sonia recalled that very moment with sheer clarity. A huge beast, bounding through the door and heading straight for the settee. Her husband trailing afterwards holding the broken leash in his hand and looking harassed and sheepish.


"I'm sorry hunny," he said, guilt written all over his face, "he's just too darned strong."

She could only shake her head and roll her eyes.

"I swear, they told me he was fully house trained and everything."


They hadn't been in the cottage that long and had spent a good portion of the time renovating and restoring it to it's original quirkiness. And now, Buddy threatened to undo everything.

"I swear," Sonia muttered, "I swear... you just don't think.... at times."

But that didn't stop Buddy from worming himself into their home and their hearts. When he wanted to, he could behave himself. Only if he wanted to... that is.

"Want to go walkies?" Sonia asked, snapping back to the present.

Buddy bounced around, barking excitedly and wagging his tail so hard, she could have sworn it was going to fall off soon. Grabbing the leash, she patted her thigh.

"Here boy!"

His eyes danced with joy as he trotted up to her......
.... and promptly rolled over onto his back showing his belly.

Sonia chuckled softly.

"You silly bugger you."




Maxmillian was deeply disappointed. He'd had hoped that the shelter could have kept Buddy on for that little bit longer until he could find a decent place, rather than that poky apartment with the NO PETS rule. But no. They were bursting at the seams as it was. At least he went to a great home.

He hoped.

It was time for his monthly assessments, checking on new owners and their adopted pets. Just to see if they'd settled in okay, had their boosters kept up to date.. you know... the whole shebang.
Buddy's visit was the last on the list and Maxmillian was eager to see him once more. See if this huge loping beast still remembered him.




He pulled up outside and got out, just in time to see Buddy and his new owner playing fetch. That was a good sign. At least he was settling in well.



Suddenly, without warning, Buddy whipped around and growled fiercely.



The female, whose back was turned, stood up and turned. Max's eyes popped open. This was Buddy's new owner?

From what he'd gathered, the new owner was a guy. Stiff and formal, a no nonsense type of guy who (in Max's eyes) would have you standing on newspaper at the front door. So that you wouldn't trail dirt into the house.

But this woman was so completely the opposite of that guy. She had smudges of paint on her fingertips and her scarf was tied haphazardly around her neck.



And she had the greenest of eyes he'd ever seen.

"Buddy!"

Oh god, even her voice was beautiful.

"Stop that... right ... now!"

"That's okay," Max replied, stepping forward.

Sonia regarded him shrewdly.


Nobody hardly passed by here, unless it was by car, driving at full tilt, it's destination... Downtown. She eyed him carefully. Spiky blond hair, intense blue eyes and a well muscled figure that could only come from working out at a gym. He was the polar opposite of her hubby Andrew.

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself.... I'm Maxmillian.... Max for short."

He held out his hand and waited for her to shake it, his heart palpitating at the prospects of her touch. Albeit briefly. Which.... in this case... it was. She gripped his fingers then let go, stepping back.

"I'm from the shelter. Here to see how Buddy's settling in."

Instantly, this cautious woman relaxed a little.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, "I'm just not used to people calling in unexpectedly. You hear some really terrible stories about burglaries, murders etc ... I didn't mean to be so cautious."

"That's okay, I understand."

He looked at Buddy, who'd dropped his 'macho' image and was rolling about in the soil, covering himself in dust and leaves. Sonia just chuckled.

"He does that a lot," she explained, "he's such a character really."

Stooping down, she reached over and rubbed his belly again. He responded with a heavy thumping tail and his big pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.



"You silly bugger."

There was a sudden breeze that whipped up from the lake and with it, the first spots of fine rain.

"Um, perhaps we should get inside," Sonia suggested, "I'll go put the kettle on."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Max replied, smiling to himself, "a nice cup of hot coffee would go down a treat... thanks."

Buddy bounced in first, the door almost coming off it's hinges as it crashed into the wall and rebounded back.

Max couldn't help noticing little things around the cottage. How 'homely' and comfortable it looked. But the sound of fabric tearing, soon pulled him out of his musings.

"I'm sorry," Sonia said sheepishly, "he keeps doing that all the time. We can't seem to stop him."

"BUDDY!" Max yelled, wagging a stern finger at the St Bernard.



Buddy instantly cowered, his ear back, tail drooping and huge huge eyes looking all folorn.

"You've got to be firm with him. That's all. Show him who the boss is in the house, otherwise he'll completely take over and become unruly."

"Oh, thanks for the tip."

He watched as she filled the coffee machine up.



"How about I suggest obedience classes?"

"Umm.... well.... I'm not so sure."

"It'll be fun."

"I won't know anybody there."

"Yes you will..... me.... I'm the one running it. It's fun.... really."

"I'll think about it."

They both glanced across at Buddy, who'd forgotten about his lecture from Max and was happily gnawing at a rubber bone.




"One or two?"

"Huh?"

"Do you take sugar in your coffee?"

"Um, no thanks... sweet enough."

She handed him a mug of coffee and he sipped it thoughtfully.

Wondering if he would ever settle down somewhere like this. His apartment was nowhere near as nice as this.....

Dang, it sucked being single. Truly, it did. She had one VERY lucky fella.



"About your visit?" she prompted, pulling him from his reverie, "what do you need to know?"

"Oh... umm...well.... it's.."

Dammit, he was flustered and couldn't articulate properly. he took another sip of his coffee to gather his thoughts.



"Well..... it's just a routine check to see if Buddy is settling in well, being fed properly etc. Nothing much really. A few standard questions, then I'll go back to the shelter and file my report."

"Oh, okay."

"But from the looks of things, I can see that, apart from the boundaries issue, Buddy's settled into his new home really well."

He finished his coffee and strolled up to Buddy, stroking the dog's huge head.




"Isn't that right old fella?"

Buddy woofed and wagged his tail, drool dripping down from his jowls as he panted happily at Max.

"Anyway, I'd better get going. Put my reports in at the shelter before the office closes up for the night. Thanks for the coffee and the hospitality."

"You are most welcome. It's a shame my hubby wasn't around to talk to you."

Max just smiled quietly.

No, not really.

It gave him the chance to see a wonderful, youthful woman with a big heart to chat to. He gave Buddy one last pat on the head.



"See you around Buddy," he said grinning, "maybe your mistress will take you to obedience classes huh?"

He climbed into his jeep, Sonia had to hang onto Buddy's collar to stop him from joining Max, and waved with her free hand as Max backed out of the drive and out onto the road.

It was really nice seeing Buddy's new owner. And he was really looking forward to seeing her again. Even if it was a 'chance' encounter.

In the meantime, Sonia looked down at Max and grinned. The drizzle was still thick in the air, but that wasn't about to stop Buddy's never ending enthusiasm.

"Well, Buddy," she said, patting his damp head, "still want to go for that walk?"

He barked happily and tugged his head forward.

"Guess that means.... yes."

Brooke Makes a Decision

"Deano?" Brooke called out hesitantly, her hand was shaking as she pulled at the door handle. Inside, she could hear raised voices, that had suddenly switched from obvious amorous giggling, to an angry exchange of words.

Perhaps she shouldn't enter after all, especially if Deano was having some trouble.
But there again, he may need her help. Especially if this now extremely shrill woman (she was quick enough to establish), was going to cause some trouble.



Deano, in the meantime, was in a real dilemma. He heard Brooke's soft voice outside, above the angry and potentially ear piercing voice of Charity.



Outside was Brooke, wanting to come in. Inside was Charity, refusing to leave and causing such a scene, enough to break the sound barrier.

He didn't want this to happen....
.... but it had.....




..... and he was powerless to stop the forthcoming chain of events.



"For crying out loud Chaz," he thundered, "can you please, put a sock in it and calm down? Enough with the dramatics already. You're giving me a headache."



"Headache?!" snorted Charity, even louder than before, "that's a new one on me. Never gave you any excuses before."

Deano rolled his eyes. From his point of view, there was no way out. It was a firing line, and he just had to stand and take what was thrown at him.

Massaging his temples, he sighed heavily and groaned.



"Chaz, please, don't make this any more difficult than it is. Brooke is coming through that door and your screaming and shouting isn't helping at all. I really can't think straight here with you yelling in my ear."

Planting her hands firmly on her hips, Charity sneered, her pretty face contorted in an evil grin.

"You're in a real fix here," she said, contempt dripping like acid from her tongue, "aren't you?"



They both fell into an uncomfortable silence. The tension between them was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.



In the meantime, Brooke was stalling for time. Convincing herself that what was going on inside, was just an argument, and nothing more. But deep in her heart, in her soul, she knew what Deano was like. He couldn't help himself, falling in love with any pretty girl that batted her eyelashes at him. They'd been down this road too many times recently. Far too many to count on one single hand.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she let her hand slide from the door handle, a single unhurried tear trailed down her cheek and she swallowed hard.




This was going to be the most difficult decision of her life. If she couldn't do it, nobody could.
Swiping her hand across her face, she turned and walked down the trailer steps.

Away from Deano.

And into the big 'unknown'.


She was in deep, pensive thought as she passed the stranger dressed in black, a look of concern written clearly on his face. Her dad was right. Deano was trouble, and she'd been blinded against his faults.




"Hi," said the man in black, "penny for them?"

His voice was soft and gentle, like caressing waves across a sandy beach. She gave him a passing glance and a quick smile.

"Hi," she replied, forcing a brave smile, "nah, it's okay, I'm fine."



Father Thomas realised that this wasn't exactly the right time for introductions, but he really felt for this sad, lonely woman. He offered his hand and automatically she took it, feeling the soft fleshy palm, in places there were callouses. This was a hand that seen some really hard work.
There was something else too, but she couldn't quite place it.

Besides, she was just in the process of letting Deano go, and another relationship so soon, just wouldn't feel right.

Then she saw the dog collar and blushed. A priest. How typical. And at that precise moment too. Perhaps her prayers had been answered. Or was this one of Nature's cruellest jokes?

But looking into this man's impassive face, she couldn't help noticing the finely chiselled bone structure and those gentle grey/green eyes behind those frameless glasses.



His mouth curved up into a gentle smile. But what she noticed most of all, was the fact that he blushed uncontrollably, casting his glance downwards whenever their eyes made contact.

It was plainly obvious that he was extremely shy around people. And judging by his lightly tanned skin, he spent a lot of time working outdoors.

"I'm..... Father Thomas Macguire," he stuttered, his mouth felt dry and he had to force the words.
It had been a while since he'd spoken to a female. Especially a very attractive one too....

"I'm Brooke," she replied, as pleasantly as possible.

Now wasn't exactly the right time for pleasantries, but, she'd been brought up to be polite, and she didn't want to appear rude.

"I live just up the road, Rose Cottage," she blurted out, "you've probably passed it en route here..."

Suddenly her mouth clamped shut. What the hell was she thinking? Giving a complete stranger her home address? Her relationship with Deano had hardly had time to go cold and here she was, practically inviting someone else home for coffee!!!

There was an uncomfortable pause, broken only by Father Thomas coughing softly. He shuffled his feet and glanced at his watch.

"I'd better go," he said hastily, "I'm due at the boarding school, they're expecting me."

"That's okay," Brooke replied, a soft smile played on her lips, "I'd better be heading off home too. It's been quite an eventful day today."

He nodded in agreement and they went their separate ways.




Father Thomas a little more buoyancy in his step, at having met a very pleasant, yet deeply troubled young lady like Brooke.

Brooke, in the meantime, dragged her leaden feet as she made her way home. He mind was in a turmoil, and tears once again started to spill from her eyes. She dreaded the thoughts of being alone. But more to the point, she dreaded telling her father too, knowing that he'd been right all along.