Interlude #2 - The Devil Is In The Details

Interlude #2 - The Devil is in The Details

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[TRANSCRIPT]

Forgotten Hollow, Villareal Townhomes

Akira: Hey. I gotta head out. Wake your dad up. Tell him to make you dinner.

Ly: Don't need to. Ordered pizza.

Akira: Wake him up anyway. He don't need to sleep this long. He might have a concussion.

Ly: He said werewolves don't get concussions. Or hangovers.

Akira: [sighs]

Laurel Library, Office of the Registrar

Akira: Hey, my name's Akira Kibo. I need to adjust my class schedule.

Registrar: Oh, I don’t see that name. Are you trying to register? If you want to apply to the university—

Akira: Check again. I think you see my name right there.

Registrar: Y-you're right. I can’t believe I missed it. What classes do you want to change?

Outside of Laurel Library

Akira: You can calm down, I’m enrolled. Been attending for three semesters already. Got a 3.2 GPA.

Jacques: Not a 4.0?

Akira: That seemed like overkill. Why are you here?

Jacques: I want you to be prepared.

Akira: I think I can handle looking after a bunch of baby witches and grad students.

Jacques: I’m sure you think you can, but two words, Akira: Julia Straud

Akira: We're in Britechester, not Henford. You think I want fuck all to do with that psycho family?

Jacques: Her son is in law school here. 

Jacques: I want you to leave him alone. 

Jacques: In fact, I want you to give him a very wide berth.

Akira (muttering under his breath): Yeah, pretty sure you don't need your help fending sims off. What is he?

Jacques: Nothing yet.

Akira: Whatever. I'm not a dummy. And don't think this means you can forget about your promise.

Jacques:  Of course not. This job qualifies. The devil is only as good as his word, Akira. And I am very good. 

ok, have been MIA as work proceeded to kick my ass. BUT my vacation officially starts today and I'm so excited to catch up on my fave stories while I'm on the beach 😭😭😭

Chapter 3.4 - What Not to Wear

VLAD

Up on the second floor, Vlad runs into his cousin, Mandy. She eyes him suspiciously in the hall and then makes a rude gesture before stomping downstairs. 

He slips into his grandparents’ bedroom and begins stripping off his clothes. Below him, he can hear Mandy begging for cereal and his grandmother telling her to eat the eggs she cooked or “fuck off.” He already knows Mandy will veto the eggs and head to his mother’s house to see what she has to offer.

Jokes on her, it’s eggs. 

He savors the feel of the suit on his skin as he stares at himself in the mirror. 

“You probably don’t need to let the hem out. I used to be your height back when I wore it,” Bubba explains. It’s the only warning Vlad has that he’s in the room. Even at his advanced age, the man moves like a cat. “Custom pockets on the inside for throwing knives,” he holds Vlad’s gaze in the mirror. “Not that this is that kind of occasion.”

“It isn’t,” Vlad replies softly, dashing away a tear. He’s never been able to control his crying. It’s just something that washes out of the static haze inside him. Strong feelings are so rare he’s learned not to fight them, even if he can’t always decipher them or understand why they’ve appeared. “I can’t wear this, Bubba. She’ll think I’m a complete psychopath.”

His grandfather snorts. “You are.”

“Rude,” Vlad chastizes. “Last I checked, you’re not a licensed therapist.”

Bubba shrugs, “Like calls to like. Now, do you want to keep this in case the right occasion ever pops up?”

Vlad thanks him and dashes across the yard to his house and carefully hangs the suit in his closet before grabbing his wallet and heading back out. 

He spots his father loading the truck and feels a wave of fury wash over him. The Strauds have one vehicle, and accommodating eight adults is difficult, which is why they have a system. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Vlad shouts, “You know I have class. I need to get to the train station.”

“I’m not kidding,” his father says, “Now do you want to be a little shit, or do you want a ride? I got things to do.”

Idiotic things. Things to piss Vlad off. Things that require ignoring the whiteboard in the kitchen and taking the damn truck anyway. Vlad works his jaw but doesn’t make a move for the door.

His father leans against the truck and folds his arms. “Fine. You want to tell me what’s wrong, or is this the ghost of your teenage years sent to haunt me as punishment?”

Vlad glares. 

Josef looks up at the sky as if praying for patience. “Wear your dark blue button-down and your purple jeans. My brown boots are by my bed; I already shined them. Blue matches your skin tone, and the purple jeans are your most worn-in, so you’ll be comfortable.”

Vlad realizes that all the tension he’s holding disappears. He takes a deep breath and nods. “Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re welcome; I love you,” his father says, “But watcher help me, Vladislaus; if you’re not out here in fifteen minutes, I’m leaving, and you can walk your ass to the train station.”

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(Part 4 of 4)

Just a little lore while I'm working on the next chapter:

Vlad's parents (Josef and Julia) were married in 1993. They met two years earlier when Josef was working with a team of students at Foxbury to build a web browser for the new World Wide Web. Josef fought with his colleagues and almost abandoned the project. In fact, when he went home in the summer of 1991, he was ready to quit.

But then he met Julia, who was running an illegal moonshine business with her sister and wanted a way to communicate with clients that wouldn't be traced by the authorities.

Josef rejoined the web browser project and built her a platform—a secret messaging system that was virtually untraceable.

At least until the government hacked it, but by then, Josef had already pinned the paper trail on his least favorite colleague.

And the rest, they say, is history.

Chapter 4.2 - Dating for Weirdos

ALICE

They end up at Annie Joe’s as a result of Alice’s “Develop a Plan in Realtime” tap dance. It’s a leftover habit from her time with Jeffery. He would never say exactly what he wanted, leaving her to deploy a bunch of coy observations, questions that weren’t really questions, and leaps of faith to figure it out.

“Are you planning to go inside, or do you have some kind of telepathy that allows you to place orders from the sidewalk?” Vlad’s delivery is so deadpan Alice has no idea if he’s teasing her. Plus, he won’t even look at her. 

She bites back the urge to explain that no matter how happy her ex was to meet his friends here, he got so pissed when Alice took him that he shook her until her teeth rattled.

Why did she let him do that? Why did she accept it? Even now, when she knows she was being gaslit, her muscle memory keeps her feet stuck to the pavement.

“I’m afraid this place will poison me,” she lies because it's better than admitting her fear.

“The campus cafeteria will poison you,” Vlad admonishes, but he’s smiling. “This place will change your life. The food is delicious. You made an excellent choice.”

Alice looks down at her feet because she knows if he reaches for her hand she’s going to throw up.

Please don’t do it. Please don’t. 

It takes a few seconds to pull herself together, but when she looks up, Vlad is just holding the door open. Relieved, she follows him into the diner. 

They get stuck behind a woman yelling at a server about her bill. A server who clearly doesn’t give a shit, which—

Good for her. That’s who Alice used to be.

When they get their seats and scan the menu, Alice’s stomach is so twisted in knots from mourning her former self that she only orders coffee. Vlad, meanwhile, raises a brow, doubles the coffee, and then proceeds to order enough food to feed an army. 

The coffee arrives. 

The silence stretches. 

Alice has exactly two thoughts in her head:

Why is talking so hard?

And why is she so broken that she can’t even make conversation? 

She doesn’t realize she’s actually voiced those thoughts until Vlad answers.

“Talking is hard because everyone wastes time saying the opposite of what they mean, and thus, every conversation is deciphering whether you should respond to the thing someone has said or the thing they mean and depending on the time of day and the height of the sun in the fucking sky it could be either.” He sips his coffee, “The problem is not you. The problem is that there are no rules, and hell is other sims.”

Alice doesn’t know whether to wince or laugh. She didn’t used to have such dark thoughts. Being around tons of sims made her happy. She loved parties. Now, large groups make her sweat, and she can’t get through a party unless she has access to alcohol.

Lots and lots of alcohol. 

Hell is other sims.

Vlad takes in her expression and sighs. “I’m sorry. That was…” He breaks off. “I’m probably not going to get through this date without saying something off-putting. I can be unsettling despite my best efforts. Or, well, not really my best effort,” he says almost to himself, “More like no effort if I'm being honest.”

Alice’s mouth falls open. It's a stunning thing to admit on a first date. Sure, she has some obvious flaws, but still, she was worth a little bit of work. “D-did I hear you right?” she demands, “You’re not even trying?”

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(Part 2 of 4)

Honestly, shout out to @coolpuppy12, who built this amazing lot! I love it so much 😭😭😭

Also, just gonna say some stuff about Alice here:

When I was young (Alice's age), I was in an abusive relationship, and getting out of it was a REAL MINDFUCK. It took time to get back to my old self (or, I guess, learn that you can't really go back, but you can become something new and better). And when I started working on this story, I was debating on how much of this to actually put in.

Ultimately, I decided to just go for it, which has been pretty cathartic to write.

Anyway, I just wanted to flag this because Alice will probably come off as a bunch of contradictions for a while (She's confident! She's not confident! She's horny! Wait, don't touch her!), and that's just coming out of writing my own experience. She's finding her footing and mourning her old self while trying to trust again.

But rest assured, this is a HEA (Happily Ever After), and baby is gonna figure herself out!

I guess it just felt important to me to write someone in the messy middle bc I needed that when I was in the messy middle. And seeing someone make it to the other side? Fucking chef's kiss.

Okay, enough of me oversharing emotional trauma on the internet! In about five minutes (aka the next part), Vlad is going to say something completely outrageous, and this date is gonna get weird and funny, I promise lol.

Chapter 2.4 - Happenstance

[POV: WILLIAM]

Somewhere between Gunther screaming, Christopher snarling, and Vladislaus grinning like a total sociopath, William realizes he has lost control. 

"Try it again," Vlad purrs.

"No, Christopher, do not try it," William growls. "Walk it off!"

Gunther taps William’s shoulder, "We should call the campus police. This is assault!"

"No,” Candy huffs, "This was two idiots. And the only thing we should do is leave."

William shoots her a grateful look. He waits until she hustles Gunther and Christopher downstairs before he rounds on his best friend. "Why?"

"Why what? Why is Gunther such a fucking killjoy? Why is Chris's right hook surprisingly adequate?" 

"None of those is the right question, and you know it! This is a game, you unhinged tosser! I am creating a story that you are playing with other sims. Winning is about coming to a resolution together."

"I can't come to a resolution with those idiots. We'd still be fighting if I didn't make that move. Is that what you want?" Vlad’s tone turns chiding, "Endless weeks of going through the motions trying to preserve something that gets destroyed anyway?” 

“You don’t even like him!”

"Well, of course, I don’t like him,” Vlad barks a laugh, “What’s to like? Christopher thinks ‘good’ is a personality trait. He enjoys fruitcake. He respectfully declines to offer up his opinion. I more than dislike him; I loathe him entirely.” 

“Then why are you doing this? What do you care what I do in my relationship?”

“It makes you miserable,” Vlad intones like he’s explaining the concept to a toddler, “You’re trapped in a toxic dynamic, and you don’t like him either.”

Avoid. Avoid. Avoid. “Can you not just pretend?”

“For him?”

"For me!" William explodes. "I know you are capable. You can be charming and chill and nice—yes, nice, Vladislaus—when you want to be."

Vlad affects a pout. "Had I any idea your bedroom paladin was going to take his dice and go home, I would have—"

"Can you, for once in your life, just fucking spare me?"

“I did spare you,” he looks genuinely perplexed. “Or at least I tried,” he lifts a shoulder, “You broke it up before I could finish.”

“I don’t need you to put my boyfriend in the hospital.”

“I rather think he’s your ex-boyfriend, now.”

“Vladislaus!”

“What?” he rubs his chest and dips his head. “I didn’t mean it. I…I lost control.” 

William sighs. “I said pretend for me, not at me.”

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