#favourite part. in fact normally i make sims first and then build houses for them and the houses are always rubbish 🥲)

[fingertipsmp3]

It has taken me 22 fucking years to get good at building in the sims but oh well. Here we are

[war-criminal-watari]

Building the entire Wammy’s house in The Sims 3, part 2: Canon has left us, and I am taking full advantage

The previous post talking about how I have done this and the exterior is here

Making this post took far longer than I thought it would, but here we are! I have completed roughly half of the first floor’s interior. 

First of all, I should probably explain how I headcanon Wammy’s house is structured physically.

Let’s be honest, the amount of genius kids can’t be too high. Genius kids who are in the foster care are even harder to come by, and Wammy most likely cannot find all of them. So, in my opinion, Wammy’s house has around 20-30 children. This may have also been affected that making enough rooms for more of them would have gotten complicated at best and impossible at worst. Once I start making all the kids, I will probably make around 25, no more than 30 for sure. 

I also think that classes are held in small groups, and certainly not all during the same time. It would make sense that some have classes in the mornings, some in the afternoon, some during the evening. So, I made 4 normal classrooms that hold 8-10 people each, one science lab and one art classroom. Should be more than enough anyways.

The only places inside the Wammy’s house we get a look at in the manga and the anime are Roger’s office, a room where Near is solving a puzzle and a corridor(Which I will make at the very end). Near’s puzzle room leaves quite a lot to imagination, and so I decided to make it into kind of a study room where kids can study, read, or solve puzzles without others disturbing them.

(I couldn’t get the large door quite to match, I had to do with what I had. Also, I will change the floor later.)

Next up is Roger’s office. I had to take some creative liberties with the placement of the windows due to the fact that making it match the canon would have meant remaking the entire window placement outside. Here I kind of mixed together what we saw from the anime and the manga.

(Fun fact: the anime can’t decide if Roger has a lamp on his desk or not)

(Looking at it now, there are probably better wall coverings for Roger’s office. This is another thing to add to my “Get back to it later” list)

Now here is where the canon has decided “fuck it, you’re on your own.”. Yes, we do get a glimpse of the corridor, but I’ll complete it at the end.

First of all: Wammy’s house has two front doors. One of the doors leads straight into the corridor. But why two front doors? Well, I have a solution for that: the other one leads to a wardrobe where kids can get their jackets, outside shoes, stuff like that.

Next up I made the nurse’s office that connects to a small bathroom, a smaller room for the children staying overnight and the nurse’s personal bedroom.

The office:

The room for the children staying overnight:

The nurse’s personal bedroom:

There are four practically identical normal classrooms, one science lab and one art classroom. 

(The ceiling here was really a hit or miss. I think I will replace it later.)

One of the nicer rooms so far in my opinion is the teachers’ room, complete with drawers of files and a coffee machine. I am fairly sure every teachers’ longue comes with one.

Another one of my favourites is the music room, or concert room, I honestly do not know what to call it. It’s where the band practices and music lessons take place, and yes, Wammy’s house has a band. You can’t convince me otherwise.

Lastly is my definite favourite: the living room with the play area. Nothing about it was planned, and I absolutely love it.

With that, we have about two thirds of the first floor covered. I’ll have to find something better for some of the ceilings, but overall I think it doesn’t look too bad.

[wildlyminiaturesandwich]

The Sims 4 Moschino Stuff - Early Access Build/Buy Review

Huge thank you to the EA Game Changer Program for providing me with the opportunity to play Moschino Stuff early!

Ever since I saw the trailer for Moschino Stuff, I knew the Build/Buy content was going to be the part of this pack that I was the most excited for and interested in and for the most part I absolutely love a lot of it. But, like CAS, Build/Buy is not without it’s issues.

As always, if you have any questions about the pack, feel free to send me an ask!

See a preview of all the new Build/Buy items here

👗The Buy

I pretty much love all of the Buy Mode objects. The couches come in some very cool patterns as well as solids, the funky pop art mirror is fun, and I love that the end table is much lower than most end tables we have so it sits nice and flush at the same height as the couches and coffee table.

But my favourite things are probably, as always, the decorative stuff. More specifically the LiBEARian (the books with the bear book ends, get it!), the Simsational Style Stack (the magazine pile) and the Amp Stack (they’re all in the pics above). Even though the Amp Stack is purely decorative, it looks very cool sitting next to a guitar and adds a lot of character to any musician’s house!

I also really like the Repurposed Gear Chest (the trunk with stickers on it) that’s essentially a coffee table and looks very cool and retro, and the Tastefully Empty Bookcase which... is not empty at all? lol I do wish the bookcase came in different heights and widths as well, but at least this time it’s a short one, unlike the bookcases that came with Seasons and StrangerVille that I love but never get to use because they’re too tall for short walls.

Something that’s bothered me pretty much since base game released is that there’s no consistent colour palette for all build/buy objects. I get that each pack has specific themes and there might be colours that fit that theme better than others but I would love to see a consistent palette used throughout every pack — say like black and white obviously, 5 different wood tones, 5 solid neutrals and 5 solid “standard” colours (blue, red, yellow etc) — and have every single item that gets added to the game made in those colours, then if a new pack has specific colours for it’s theme they can be added on top of the standard palette. I like the colour palette that was chosen for the items in this pack but I found it really hard to find anything from other packs that matched it. It bothers me so much that nothing ever matches from pack to pack, half the time objects in the same pack don’t even match! And even now that the 350 new swatches were added to base game doors... they still don’t match anything else!

Sorry, I know I’m ranting and this has very little to do with Moschino Stuff but it just really bothers me that nothing ever matches because whenever I build I spend hours trying to find a floor to match the trim around the bottom of the wall I’ve chosen, then none of the doors match the floor and trim so I have to change it all, then none of the windows match the doors, floor and trim, and on and on until I’ve completely forgotten what I originally wanted the build to look like!

I really like the new frames we got for photos too, and the fact that they can now be placed on tables BUT I’ve had a couple of issues with them. First of all, it’s not possible to turn the frames placed on tables using the alt key, so you can only turn them in 45 degree increments and I hate that. I like to have all my photo frames slightly askew at different angles and it bothers me that these ones can only be places either facing straight forwards or angled by 45 degrees.

The second issue I have with the frames is actually more of a technical one but I’m not entirely sure if it’s the frames themselves, the photos, or the photography skill; I haven’t been able to work that out yet. When I have a sim take photos using the new tripod and camera everything is fine, but the second I exit out of the photography UI my FPS drops drastically.

I thought it was just my computer being stupid at first, until other Game Changers started reporting the same issue. I suspect it might be the photos and frames — specifically the new collage frame — because as soon as I remove the frames from the lot, the FPS goes back to normal. My game normally runs at a steady 60 FPS at all times but as you can see here, it drops down to 8-12 whenever there are framed photos on the lot and shoots back up when I delete them.

NOTE: This was with my game 100% CC and Mod free.

All of the new photography gear is so cool too! The fact that most of the items (like the tripod, camera, and tape markers) can be picked up in your sims inventory is so handy; your sim can just grab their equipment and head out into the world to take photos of other sims, landscapes, pets, and themselves literally anywhere they can plop the tripod down! And the backdrops have some really cool backgrounds for you to take photos in front of... or maybe... some other... uses 😈

👗The Build

I think the thing most people were looking forward to in this pack were the beautiful windows and doors; I’m definitely one of those people lol They are definitely gorgeous but as seems to happen every single time we get new windows and doors, the selection is limit in many different ways.

Every single colourway for both the windows and the doors is either white, black, red, or some combination of those colours. There are no colourways that match any of the other colours used on the furniture for the set (like blue, pink and yellow) and absolutely zero wood or neutral tones.

There are also no other heights for both the door and window other than for the shortest wall height, which absolutely baffles me because they’re clearly a set made to be used in lofts and converted warehouse type builds... builds that are generally made with either the medium or tallest wall height. They also didn’t bother to make single tile versions of any of the windows and doors, or even a closed version for the smaller window!

But what’s even more baffling (at least to me) is the way the door was made. I literally spent a full 30 minutes just sitting here in front of my computer, staring at this door, trying to figure out what could possibly have been going through the head of whoever made it when they decided that not only would it be shorter on one side, therefore also shorter than the windows, but also that it wouldn’t take up the full two tiles it was allocated and therefore wouldn’t sit flush up against the windows it was made to go with!

I saw a tweet by one of the Gurus that basically said “It’s the right height on the outside, just flip it around” but... that still leaves you with one side shorter than the windows, it’s just now on the other side, and there’s still gaps at the side! Why you would go to all the trouble to make the windows fit beautifully together like that and then not make the door exactly the same height and width! It bothers me way more than it probably should but I just don’t understand!

On the plus side, there are some base game doors that fit in with the windows (kind of) that I will probably use instead of the Moschino door... at least until someone makes a build add-on for them anyway lol

👗The Verdict

Overall, while I have issues with some of the build/buy stuff, this is where this pack makes up for the lack of CAS stuff in my opinion and what would make me want to fork over the $10 for the pack. To be completely honest, I’d pay $10 just for the LiBEARian though 🤣

All thoughts and opinions expressed in this review are my own. I am not paid by EA to “hype” their games; I am given the opportunity to review their games early in exchange for an honest review.

Click here for my Create-A-Sim Review

Gameplay Review coming soon

[the-magnus-archives-archiver]

Taken Ill

Case: 0121911

Name: Nicole Baxter Subject: Visits culminating in the fire that consumed Ivy Meadows Care Home in Woodley, Greater Manchester Date: November 19th, 2012 Recorded by: Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London

Fear is a strange thing, isn’t it? What you’re afraid of. For most people, a corpse is at the least unnerving and, for some, outright terrifying. Or maybe it’s disgust. They are two very different feelings, aren’t they? Though they often bleed into each other, if you’ll pardon the pun. I work as a funeral director, so as you can imagine, how I feel about death and the body is a bit more... complicated and more immediately relevant than it is for most people. Dealing with cadavers day in, day out forces you to confront all manner of things about yourself.

Simply put, I have found that I do not believe in any sort of afterlife. I have seen people cold and lifeless upon the mortician’s table who I knew, who I remembered as vibrant and lively. There was no soul that had departed, no special spark that passed on to something else. Simply a body that no longer moved or spoke or thought. It feels odd to consider the fact that you will no longer exist some day, but you didn’t exist for billions of years before your birth, so, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to conclude that you will not exist afterwards in much the same way. I try to see life as a pleasant holiday from non-existence. It provides some comfort when the truth of my own mortality stares me in the face every day.

There is one thing about dead bodies that does bother me, though. One thing that... eats at me, as it were, and does give me that sick tightness of fear deep in my gut. It is rot. I don’t know why it gets to me so; perhaps it’s precisely because I don’t think there is anything beyond the body, and even dead and unaware, seeing a person’s form begin to putrefy and fester – becoming just a home for the crawling, feasting things – is too much for me. Perhaps it’s just an unaccountable phobia. Regardless of the reason, the fact is that to see the corpses decaying, to see their flesh corrupted, it is... the one part of this job that I find uncomfortable. So much so that I would describe reconstruction and preservation as my favourite part of the process. Making sure the cadaver looks as peaceful and lifelike as possible. Make them the person they were, or as close as they can be while cold and senseless. Fighting off the rot. The insects. The disease. 

I don’t know why I wrote disease just then. They’re dead, so they can’t be diseased in the normal sense, can they? I suppose it’s just thinking about what happened at the Ivy Meadows Care Home links them in my head. But it’s not just that, is it? That... the fear, the feeling. That tingling, squirming fear at the back of my mind – it feels the same when thinking of the germs that corrupt and twist our bodies, lurking invisibly on any table or surface, or when I saw those swarming flies. How many more moved and buzzed just out of sight? I’ve never had any mental health issues before, but perhaps after my experience I should consult someone. I read once that OCD can come on later in life, if a severe experience sets it off.

I’m rambling. Disregard this first page, I’ll start again.

I work as a mortician at Baxter and Gordon Funeral Directors in Woodley. By rights it should now just be Baxter Funeral Directors, as William Gordon passed away himself about 5 years ago, leaving my uncle George running the place on his own. He kept the name though, as he always said it was one of the most respected in all of Manchester. God knows there was no sentimental reason to keep it. From the way he talked, he and William Gordon hated each other by the end, to the point where the will expressly stated that the body of William Gordon was to be handled and prepared by Fenchurch and Sons, one of my uncle’s great rivals. Maybe that’s why Uncle George is so keen to keep it in the family. He hired me and my cousin Josh to help, and now Baxter and Gordon Funeral Directors is entirely run by Baxters.

I’ve been there for almost four years now and have taken over most of the client-side arrangements of the business. My uncle has gotten somewhat brusque in his old age and is now more suited to organising things with churches and crematoria, rather than handling the recently bereaved. As such, I’ve gotten to know the various nursing and care homes around Woodley rather well. We generally get a few removals from any given one each year. Maybe as many as a half dozen if the winter is bad. It’s certainly our most reliable source of business. 

Of them all, Ivy Meadows was my favourite. For a funeral director to say she has a favourite nursing home probably sounds a bit like the Grim Reaper talking about his favourite hospital, but it’s true. Ivy Meadows Care Home was on the outskirts of Woodley, where the suburbs gave way to pockets of green countryside. It wasn’t remote, exactly, but it was removed enough from main road that it stood alone, surrounded by rather lovely gardens on three sides, and a long, open field behind it. It had been a country house once, I believe, but not much of the original structure remains, having been modified and expanded to provide accessible accommodation for about thirty residents. It was an odd building, with modern glass and concrete sections sprouting from old turreted brickwork, like blocky stone tumours.

The look of the place wasn’t why I liked it, though. No, that was the residents. Ivy Meadows was almost entirely populated by those elderly who were entirely supported by the state. Most pensioners have some savings or property or family to support them, which means if they’re unable to live alone they can at least afford to pay for their own care or some of it. It’s rare for a person to reach that age and have literally nothing to pay for their care, but it does happen. In these cases, the state pays for them, but they have little choice in where they end up. Ivy Meadows was almost entirely populated by these. Old people without money or family, sent to be looked after by strangers. You’d have expected the atmosphere to be unpleasant, some morbid combination of prison and hospice, but it was quite the opposite. Something about the mutual loneliness seemed to lead them to create a real sense of community. It was the only place I ever went where the residents still gave me a smile. Hannah Ramirez, who ran the place, would always tell me a bit about the deceased and their time there, and I was inevitably shocked by tales of drugs, sexual escapades and other gossip that sounded more like a high school than a nursing home. I think Hannah enjoyed trying to get a reaction out of me when I was trying to be solemn. It was just a happy place, even if I was only there to do a sad duty.

It all started to change about three months ago, after Hannah left. I don’t know exactly when she left her post or why; we hadn’t had a call from Ivy Meadows for a couple of months, so it must have happened during that period. I don’t know where she moved to, either. It certainly wasn’t any of the other care homes around Woodley, and it wasn’t like I knew her personally. I’d gotten a call from one of the nurses, Alenka Kozel, who said that one of their residents had taken ill and passed away, a man by the name of Bertrand Miller. I asked her for a few more details; she started to say something else, but the call was cut off almost abruptly. I didn’t really think too much about it, most of the details could be worked out when we arrived, so I called Josh and loaded up the car for a removal.

It was a hot mid-August day, and the air was thick and humid, making everything feel sticky, like the whole world was running a fever. The sky was overcast, though, an orangey-grey that cast muted shadows and seemed to muffle the world. It was about a ten minute drive to Ivy Meadows, and neither of us said a word. I don’t know why, at that point we had no idea that there was anything wrong, but looking back it seems like we both felt there was something off about it. Or maybe we were just too hot for conversation and hindsight is colouring my memories.

When we arrived the place was silent. There were no cars in the parking area, which was not unusual, but I couldn’t see a soul anywhere on the grounds. Maybe they were simply staying out of the heat. Josh and I got out of the car and approached the door. I pressed the buzzer, as I had done so many times before, expecting the cheery voice of one of the receptionists. Instead there was just dead air, followed by the clunk of the door being remotely unlocked. I looked at Josh, who shrugged, and we went inside.

Ivy Meadows Care Home was usually much as you would find any other – air conditioned, and smelling faintly of cleaning products and cheap potpourri. This time it was different. The smell now was just as faint, but seemed... rancid, while the air itself was close and damp. The beige walls seemed dirtier than before, with dark marks at roughly hand-height. There was a faint buzzing, like a fly, but I couldn’t see any source for it.

None of it was so bad as to make us turn back, however, and we headed towards the reception desk. There was nobody behind it, and I rang the bell. I always wore gloves when on a removal, and was glad of that fact now, as I noticed a greasy residue on top of the small brass bell. The door to the reception opened, and a tall man stepped out. He was rail thin and wore a faded brown suit that seemed to have been cut for a much fatter man. His eyes were a watery blue and his dark hair stood on top of his head in an unruly mess. He must have been around forty, but had a nervous sort of energy to him. He was quite a surprise, to say the least.

Josh recovered faster than I did and asked the man, a bit rudely, who he was, where we could find Hannah. The man shook his head at this and said that Ms. Ramirez had left the position, and he was now Director of Ivy Meadows. He introduced himself as John Amherst, and held a hand out for Josh to shake. My cousin stood there for some time, staring at the thick, sweaty hand of this strange man, clearly not wanting to shake it. Mr Amherst just stood there, arm outstretched, apparently unconcerned. A fly landed on his face, and if he noticed, he didn’t give any sign of it, not even when it walked across his eye. Eventually, the now clearly shaken Josh stuttered out some semi-polite excuse and backed away.

At this John Amherst lowered his hand and turned to me. He asked why we were here. This took me rather by surprise, as there’s generally only one reason undertakers show up in such a place. We told him we had received a call and been told Mr. Miller had passed away. Amherst asked who had called us, but with such a sharpness in his voice that I lied and said the caller hadn’t given their name. He paused, clearly considering what to say next very carefully. Finally, he nodded, and said that yes, Bertrand Miller was dead. And we could have him. Then he gestured for us to follow and began to walk back into the main building.

As we walked, he began listing the details for Mr. Miller’s funeral, such as they were. No family or friends, no savings or insurance, simple cremation, as soon as possible. No service to be held at the crematorium. Ashes to be returned to Ivy Meadows in whatever the cheapest option was for an urn made of brass. At this I asked what he wanted the ashes for, and he simply waved his hand in a vague dismissal and said they’d be wanting to have a “private remembrance service”.

By now, we’d been walking for a few minutes, and I hadn’t seen another soul in the corridors. I thought I spotted one of the nurses at one point, but they had turned and walked away as soon as they saw us. We arrived at a room bearing a small plaque. It read ‘Bertrand Miller’. John Amherst opened it without hesitation and went inside. 

The smell was what hit me first. I’ve smelled plenty of corpses in my time. I’d almost say I’m used to the smell. This was different, there was some deeper taint there than simply putrefying flesh, and it made me gag. By the look on his face, Josh smelled it as well. Then I got a good look at the body on the bed, and almost turned and ran.

Based on the colour of those sections of skin still whole and unblemished, Mr. Miller couldn’t have been dead for more than a few hours, half a day at most. You wouldn’t have known, though. Large sections of his body were covered in a wet, creamy yellow rash, which... I’m not a doctor, so describing exactly what it did to the flesh it touched would serve no purpose except to start me having the nightmares again. Let us just say that it gave a plentiful home for the flies that swarmed around his body.

We looked at John Amherst, utterly appalled. He said not to worry, that the disease that had claimed poor Mr. Miller wasn’t contagious. Even produced the recently signed death certificate, though it was stained with some dark grey fluid, so I did not examine it too closely. He then apologised that their air conditioning had broken. “I’m sure you know all about what heat does to cadavers,” he said. I just wanted to get out of there, and have never been more grateful to whoever designed care home beds so that we could remove the body with as little contact as possible. Even then, on the way out I felt a sudden tickling pain on the back of my left hand, and looked down to see the thick leather glove in contact with one of the patches of yellow. I nearly screamed and dropped the body, but did neither. Ivy Meadows did not feel then like a safe place to do either of those things. In fact, I kept my composure through the whole of the drive home. 

As soon as we arrived, I ran into the bathroom, throwing my gloves into the medical waste bin. I scrubbed the patch of skin that still felt like it was crawling. I could see nothing wrong with it, but I kept scrubbing until it was bloody, then poured disinfectant over it until it went numb.

When I finally left the bathroom, I found Josh arguing loudly with his father. Apparently Uncle George was not satisfied with the explanation given for the state of Mr. Miller’s body. He turned to me, and asked what had happened. I told him the same thing Josh had, the same thing I’ve told you. We went over it slowly, point by point until finally he stood there silently, looking worried, but determined. He had us tell it to him one more time, before he nodded, told us to stay away from the corpse of Bertrand Miller, and left, telling us he had to make a few calls. I have never seen a cremation done with such a quick turnaround, and he was burned before the end of the day. I asked Uncle George about returning the ashes in a brass urn, but he shook his head, and said he’d already had them disposed of.

I knew my uncle wasn’t one to share his thoughts when he didn’t want to, and that seemed to be the end of it, save for those times throughout the day I would feel that tickling in my hand and run to scrub it away. I went on a couple of other jobs, and it seemed like we were expected to forget it. Josh didn’t talk about what happened, and I got the impression he was trying to ignore what he had seen. He always was a practical soul.

I... couldn’t let it go, though. It just kept playing in my mind. So when the phone rang two weeks later and I heard Alenka’s voice on the other end, my heart skipped several beats. What she said did nothing to allay my fears. The line was bad, very bad, but I could have sworn she said, “Come quickly. We’ve taken ill. We’ve passed away.” The words repeated, as though on a recorded loop, though they were no easier to make out than the first time. Finally, I put the phone down. I was technically off duty at that point, having just finished my shift, so I could have ignored it. I could have walked away. Instead, I put on my normal clothes, grabbed three pairs of gloves and got in my car.

The drive there was dreadful. Still hot, I kept looking at turnings and junctions, and imagining where I would go if I turned away from Ivy Meadows and just drove off. But I didn’t. I kept taking those old familiar turnings, moving inevitably towards that sick, old building.

When I arrived, it was quiet. The whole building looked filthy now, even from the outside, and the plants that bordered it had started to take on an unhealthy whitish colour. There was one other car in the parking area, a faded white Transit van I didn’t recognise. I got out and started to walk towards the front door. The smell was noticeable even from out here, and by the time I got close enough to reach the buzzer, it had become so strong as to be unbearable. I tried to bring myself to press the button. But instead I turned and half-sprinted back to my car, desperate to breath clean air again.

I stood there, torn between wanting to flee and needing to know. Then in the silence, I heard it. Tap, tap, tap. Someone banging rhythmically on a window. I scanned all the ones I could see, but they were dark.

Tap, tap, tap.

It showed no sign of stopping. I began to make a wide circuit of the building. It was on the other side that I saw it. A large, ground floor window showed what I think would once have been the lounge. The walls were dark, stained and smeared to almost black, but the windows were clear. Stood the other side of the glass, weakly banging her fist against it, was Alenka Kozel. Her skin was mottled, covered with that leaking yellow rash. She saw me, and as her eyes locked with mine she opened her mouth, and the buzzing of the flies that spewed out was almost as loud as her scream.

I turned and began to sprint back towards my car. I had to get away, to get out. Then, without warning, I felt something heavy hit me in the side and I lost my footing, falling to the ground. I looked up to see an old man pinning me to the ground, his long, white beard matted and filthy. I screamed and tried to escape, but his age seemed to have done nothing to diminish his strength, and he kept his grip easily. 

Then he spoke in a thick Mancunian accent and told me to keep my voice down. I noticed that his skin was unblemished pink, and behind him stood a young woman, tall and lean with close-cropped hair and a deep scar over her right eye. She carried a large canvas bag, and was shaking her head, telling the old man to leave me alone. After a few suspicious glances, he got up. I could swear I recognised him from somewhere, but when I asked the two of them who they were, they just shook their heads and told me to leave. I asked them what was going on, and the old man looked at his companion, as if asking permission, said something about knowledge being a good defence here. She shook her head and said that leaving quickly was a better one. I didn’t need to be told a third time.

I got in my car, and I left them to their work. I didn’t turn around even when I saw the smoke start to rise behind me. And that was the last time I went there. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go wash my hands.

Archivist Notes:

The Ivy Meadows Care Home in Woodley was officially decommissioned in July 2011, a month before the first of these alleged calls came in. It burned down on the 4th of September that same year after a leaking gas main caught fire. If the gas was already leaking, this might have resulted in hallucinations or other problems during their initial visit. There is no record of the body of Bertrand Miller being processed, or cremated, by Baxter and Gordon Funeral Directors, but based on this statement that’s not necessarily a point of incredulity. Bertrand Miller was a resident at Ivy Meadows, but according to his death certificate he passed away on 19th July, a week before the home was decommissioned. There’s no record of any funeral arrangements or disposal of the body.

In fact, it seems the records from the closure of Ivy Meadows are... well, according to Sasha, calling them ‘patchy’ would be very generous. There are only transfer records for seven residents, whereas at last official count the home held twenty-nine. The others seem to have been lost in the system somewhere. The majority of the workforce also appears to be undocumented, and I can find no record of any ‘Alenka Kozel’ on the system. Martin’s research would seem to indicate the place employed a reasonable number of international staff they preferred to keep off the books, but it doesn’t explain why none of the officially-listed staff can be located for follow- up, except for Hannah Ramirez, whose brief interview simply established she moved to Brighton shortly before the closure of Ivy Meadows and hadn’t heard anything about it since. John Amherst, as best we can tell, doesn’t exist. We’re unable to locate anyone fitting that description anywhere within the care or medical sector, and he certainly never ran any nursing homes.

Another tale full of dead ends. We did contact the Baxters. Joshua Baxter repeated the first part of the above statement. George Baxter told us not to listen to tall tales. Nicole Baxter said she stands by her account, but aside from losing her left hand in what she calls “a workplace accident”, there have been no further developments.

Still, there’s a lot here the puts me in mind of other statements. Something in the way Ms. Baxter talks about fear. I can’t help but be reminded of statement 0142302, how Jane Prentiss talks about her own fears. And the old man and his companion... who does that remind me of? If he wasn’t dead I’d think it might have been Trevor—

[ [DOOR OPENS] Oh, er, yes?

Tim: Are you free?

Archivist: Yes... Yes, I’m just about finished here, what is it?

Tim: Oh, ah, nothing urgent, um, it’s just Elias was asking a couple questions about the delivery.

Archivist: Delivery? What delivery?

Tim: Ah well, that’s actually what he was asking, huh! Um, apparently Martin, uh, took delivery of a couple of items last week addressed to you. Did he not mention it?

Archivist: No, he... Oh, yes, actually. I completely forgot. He said he put it in my desk draw, hold on.

[SOUND OF PACKAGE BEING RETRIEVED AND OPENED]

Tim: Er, what is it?

Archivist: A lighter. An old Zippo.

Tim: You smoke?

Archivist: No. And I don’t allow ignition sources in my archive! Tim: Okay. Is there anything unusual about it?

Archivist: Not really. Just a sort of spider web design on the front. Doesn’t mean anything to me. You?

Tim: Ah no. No.

Archivist: Well... show it to the others, see what they think. You said there was something else as well?

Tim: Oh, ah yes, yeah, it was sent straight to the Artefact Storage, a table of some sort. Ah, looks old. Quite pretty, though. Fascinating design on it.

Archivist: Tim... Tim, it doesn’t have a hole in it, does it? About six inches square?

Tim: Ah... I don’t know. Maybe? Um, I’ll be honest I didn’t really notice. It was quite—

Archivist: Hypnotic, yes. Do you know who made the delivery? Did they sign in?

Tim: Um... ah no, ah sorry no I don’t know.

Archivist: I need to talk to Martin. Uh, end recording.]

[loladiamond01]

50 Questions Tag

Hey there, so I thought I can’t ignore this forever, and so I’m going to do the rest of the things I was tagged for. First, the 50 questions tag, for which I was tagged by @thesimperiuscurse​ quite some time ago. I decided to do this for Shari since we haven’t seen her in a while, plus she’s rather... uh... complex, so it might be interesting.

How old is your Sim? As of the latest, 19th, chapter, she is 34.

When is your Sim’s birthday? July 4th.

What is your Sim’s zodiac sign? Ironically, both she and Ron are cancers. *coughs suggestively*

What is your Sim’s ethnicity? American, though I do not talk much about it in the story.

Does your sim have any nicknames? Shari. Tiny Shari sometimes (I think @thesimperiuscurse once used it in reference to her, I liked it, and it kind of stuck).

Do they have a job? Technically, she’s a cartoonist, and has even released a couple books with her drawings. But no, she doesn’t have a “real” job, in terms of having set work hours, being forced to get up in the morning, etc.

Where does your Sim live? She currently lives in Appaloosa Plains.

Who does your Sim live with? She lives with her husband, John, and their three children, oldest James and twins – Jasmine and Justin.

What environment did your sims grow up in? She grew up in a loving environment. Although her mom, Candy, was technically a single mother, Shari was surrounded by many other adults she treated like family – “uncles” Reggie, Frank and Waylon, and “aunt” Hailey. And of course, she grew up with Ron and Becca (her peers), and two years older Clint. But throughout the years, she’d grown more and more jealous of the fact that everyone had a father except her. She deeply believed in importance of a traditional family dynamic, even to the point of feeling sorry for Clint for growing up without a mother.

What is your Sim’s favorite food? She loves sweets, and especially chocolate. She can eat a whole bar (or a couple of them) by herself when she’s stressed, which is often.

What is your Sim’s favorite drink? Shari loves tea. She often prepares herself the melissa one because she’s trying to convince herself it will calm her down during anxiety attacks (which it really doesn’t).

If they have one, what is your Sim’s favorite color? She doesn’t really have a favorite, though she started wearing a lot of red because of Ron (and the fact he connects red to her due to his synesthesia), and has gotten so used to it, she still unconsciously buys a lot of red clothes.

Does your Sim believe in any clichés (love at first sight)? She doesn’t necessarily believe in love at first sight, but she does believe in destiny, and that everyone’s fate is known before they are born.

What is your Sim’s sexuality? Straight.

What is your Sim’s gender identity? Female.

Is your Sim type A or type B? It’s hard to tell because she’s quantities connected with both – gets stressed easily, is impulsive, over-emotional, but definitely not a high-achiever.

Is your Sim introverted or extroverted? Introverted.

What is your Sim’s favourite woohoo position? In a way, she treats sex like a way to feel less alone, so she would pick anything that lets her feel it on a spiritual level. She particularly enjoys face to face positions with a lot of tight hugging, like the basket pose. But she doesn’t usually voice her preference and lets the partner decide because she’s desperate for just about any physical contact.

Is your Sim a pet person? She adores pets of all kinds, and can’t pick a favorite. She had always wanted a dog as a child, and was excited when her husband brought a rescued puppy home. Now, as she lives in the country, she feeds a lot of stray cats, dogs, and has also learned horse-riding.

Does your Sim have a best friend? She used to be very close to Becca when she was still alive. Now that she’s mostly distanced herself from all her past acquaintances, she doesn’t really have friends anymore.

What is/ was your Sim’s favorite school subject? Art.

Is/ was your sim a high, mid or low achiever in school? She was a low achiever because she was always too focused on her drawings to pay attention during classes.

Are they planning to go or have they already been to college? She studied fine arts for a short period of time, but then dropped out.

What are your Sim’s political beliefs (if they have them)? Shari is an ignorant when it comes to politics, and not once has she even considered voting, nor is she interested in what’s going on in the world.

What is one thing your Sim wants to do before they die? She wants to come clean to her husband, and admit she’s cheated on him multiple times with many other men.

Does your Sim have a favourite TV show (cable) and/ or movie? She doesn’t really watch TV.

Is your Sim a Netflix viewer? She doesn’t watch any series either. She once tried, but came to a conclusion that people there either seem too happy, or, in the dramatic ones, so sad she gets more depressed than she normally is.

Does your Sim like books? Not traditional books, but she loves comics, and likes to do fanart sometimes.

Does your Sim enjoy video games, if so, what is their favorite one, and do they play on PC or console? She used to play on console with Ron, Becca and Clint as a teenager, but she doesn’t do that anymore.

What is your Sim’s personal style? She wears girly clothes in bright colors. When she was younger, she sometimes liked experimenting with more risqué clothing and make up, but has grown out of it. She also loves flower themes, and midi skirts.

Does your Sim have a lucky charm? That would be the bracelet given to her by Ron on their anniversary. More about it in this post.

Is your Sim religious? Not really, but she believes that there exists something out there that’s going to eventually punish her for all the wrong she’s done, like cheating, which she feels extremely guilty about, but has no plans of stopping.

What kind of music does your Sim listen to and who is their favorite artist? She doesn’t listen to music with lyrics, only relaxation music to calm herself down during anxiety attacks. She loves when there are birds or sea sounds included.

Is your Sim a festive person? If so, what’s their favorite holiday? She doesn’t care much for holidays. Usually, her anxiety increases during Christmas when she has to leave the house and shop in a crowd.

What is your Sim’s favorite type of weather? She loves when the sun’s shining. It makes her a bit happier.

Does your Sim prefer to start fights or finish them? She avoids conflict at all cost. So, most likely, she will burst out crying and apologize even if she’s not actually guilty. Thankfully, she and John don’t argue often because he’s very peaceful by nature.

Does your Sim have a dream job? She doesn’t really know what she wants out of life. There was a time when she wanted to be a praised artist but now she feels nauseous at the prospect of being overwhelmingly famous.

Does your Sim have any siblings? She’s an only child, though she used to think of Becca as her sister.

Does your Sim get along with their family? She used to be very close to her mother, and all her extended family (not related to her by blood, but she thought of them as such), but now she’s distanced herself from them, so she isn’t anymore.

What is your Sim’s favourite hobby? Drawing.

What does your Sim look for in a romantic partner? She has never had a healthy relationship. Her marriage with John was a way of escaping from unfinished business with Ron, and she wanted someone who’d provide for her. All she’s done after that have been hook-ups with no emotional attachment.

What is a secret about your Sim? She has a calendar in which she notes down the dates and names of all the people she’s cheated on John with.

What is a wish your Sim has? She wants to die, but is too afraid to commit a suicide in fear she’ll get punished in the afterlife.

What is a flaw your Sim has? Her fear of rejection, which prevents her from building up a proper relationship with anyone.

How do others generally perceive your Sim? As shy, insecure, reserved and vulnerable.

Does your Sim have a greatest achievement? If so, what is it? She’s become quite well-known on the internet because of her comics. She was even invited to take part in a meet and greet to talk with her fans and sign her comics, but she didn’t go due to her anxiety.

If they have one, what is your Sim’s greatest regret? She deeply regrets breaking up with Ron, even though she continuously tries to convince herself it was a good decision.

Does your sim have a favorite emoji? ♥ – a heart, which she not only uses in her conversations with John and her children, but also the men she hooks up with. She often prefers it over actual words because she tends to overanalyzes her text to the point she doesn’t know what to say anymore, and then panics that the person on the other side will get mad for her at leaving them hanging.

Does your Sim use Simstagram? If so what’s their @? She shares her comics on @sharistinydoodles (it’s not an actual username, don’t check, lol).

What is the last text your Sim sent (and who did they text)? “♥” in response to John’s message that he’ll be home in half an hour.