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| Flying- Sabrina's Story | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 26 2014, 08:13 AM (547 Views) | |
| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 26 2014, 08:13 AM Post #1 |
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Genius
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((Why, hello there! I see that you've stumbled upon the backstory of Sabrina Flynn, an acrobat from the past with a love of flying. This will explain why she is the way she is today. There are several things you should know first, though…. -The story will be told mostly in third person point of view, but it will also told in letters between Sabrina and other characters from her past and journal entries written by Sabrina. -Sabrina was born in Ancient Rome, so she's fluent in Latin. When the characters are speaking in the now-dead language, the words will be in bold. -The journal entries and letters will all be italicized. -Storywise, the journal entries might be written in Latin, but to make your job as the reader (and mine as the writer!) easier, they will be written in English. -Depending on where she is, Sabrina will go by a different name, so throughout the backstory, I will use several different names when referring to her. When the name used for her is switched, I'm going to attempt to make that as clear as possible. At a first glance, she just seems rude, but this will truly explain why she does the things she does. Because it goes so in depth with her character and there's so many things to cover, it might be a bit long, but hopefully it makes understanding her easier, and you enjoy reading it! It might be a bit dark in places, so the tenderhearted should beware! Alright, I think that's everything. If you're still here (I didn't bore you to death, did I?) then please enjoy learning about the past of Sabrina Flynn!) Edited by thetotalsimsgeek, Aug 22 2014, 11:37 PM.
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| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 26 2014, 08:14 AM Post #2 |
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Genius
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Sabrina Flynn's story begins before her birth. It begins with chaos, it begins with tragedy, it begins with pain. It begins with a sinking ship and a messenger. The large ship was tossed around by the waves and the wind as if it was weightless. The clouds unleashed torrents of rain upon it, and lightning threatened to destroy the sails and the mast. "Save the goods!" The captain shouted as he pointed towards the entrance to the lower decks, where rugs, gold, silver, books, and tomatoes were stored. His orders went unheard thanks to the raging winds and the rain that soaked the frantic crew. "We're going to sink," a dark-haired crew member moaned as he raised and lowered the sail. "Silence," snapped a tall, muscular man that carried a barrel of dried meat to throw over the edge so that they could lighten the load to prevent the ship from sinking like a stone. "You'll jinx us, you fool!" Chaos ruled as everyone did what they could to prevent their untimely deaths. The captain continued to shout orders, but it was pointless. Many of the men were praying to the Roman god of their choice, some were cowering or in hysterics, some were tossing over anything they could afford to lose, and a few remained in their actual positions- working the sails, steering, or rowing. A crack of lightning struck the mast, splitting it in half and sending the top half crashing through the ship. It left a jagged crack down the center, and the unlucky few that got trapped beneath it crashed down to a watery grave. The captain now clung to the remainder of the mast and sobbed and water began to pull his fine ship down into the depths. "May Neptune protect us and may Pluto have mercy on our souls!" He choked out before the ship, its captain, and its crew were swallowed by the sea. A messenger knocked hurriedly on the door of the home of Augustus, the merchant, and his wife, Serena. He had urgent and unhappy news to deliver, so he'd best get it over with quickly. Rap-a-tat-tat! The drumming of his knuckles against the door summoned a slave, who cautiously opened the door and peered out. "Can I help you?" The door slave questioned as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. "I have an urgent message for your master," the messenger said impatiently. "Please alert him immediately." The slave nodded and the door closed for a few moments before it reopened and the tired, tan face of Augustus appeared. "Yes?" Augustus said as he stifled a yawn. The messenger looked regretful as he cautiously began, "It's your ship, sir." Augustus was suddenly wide awake. He opened the door all the way, revealing his heavily pregnant wife that looked just as concerned as her husband. Augustus beckoned for the messenger to come in, and the tall young man did gratefully, glad to be out of the cold autumn air. Serena retreated to the doorway of the stairs that lead up to their bedroom. She knew that as a woman, her husband's business wasn't her worry, but she couldn't help but be concerned. The messenger warmed his hands over the fire as Augustus paced several feet behind him. Finally, the merchant burst out, "Well?" The messenger gulped nervously before delivering his message. "The ship containing the goods you had shipped was lost, sir. It was sunk. The lone survivor and the few things that were salvaged have just washed ashore, and are now at the docks. They would like for you to take a look at them." A stunned silence covered the room. Augustus knew the risks of his business and shipping the goods by sea- every merchant did. He just didn't expect it to happen to him. No one did. Serena's stormy grey eyes were wide with shock and horror. To lose a ship meant debt that lasted for years. She felt a slight twinge of pain, but she ignored it in favor of helping her husband pull on his cloak and holding open the door for Augustus to race towards the docks and the messenger towards his home. When they were both gone and the door was securely fastened shut, she began to pace. Worries swirled around her head as she wrung her hands. How would they support their first child if they were deep in debt? Would they have to sell their home? Her worries were so intense that she didn't notice the signs until the first major labor pain hit her. She let out a cry of agony and clutched her stomach. What could she do? She was home alone, and unsure of when Augustus would return. Another pain hit and she groaned. She carefully made her way up to her bedroom and hoped that it would be over soon. Several hours later, Augustus returned with all he could find: several tomatoes, a soggy carpet, and a lump of gold the size of a baby's fist. The house was oddly silent and the fire had burned low. "Serena, my love?" He called softly, in case she was sleeping. No answer. He left the items by the door, except for the gold lump, which he pocketed, and then climbed up the stairs quietly. When he entered the bedroom, he was met with a scene or both joy and horror. Blood was everywhere, and his wife lay crumpled on the bed, her arms gently wrapped around a baby swaddled in pink blankets. He rushed over to the bedside and picked up the infant, tears of joy springing to his eyes. "Oh, Serena, it's a girl, just like you wanted!" He cried, snuggling his sleeping daughter. His wife did not answer. Augustus placed his daughter upon the bed, and with trembling hands, reached out to check his wife's heartbeat. There wasn't one. He was too stunned, too horrified to cry. He knew once he got over the shock, and he actually wrapped his mind around if, he would sob uncontrollably, but all he could do now was pick up his first and only child and hold her close as he turned away from his wife's lifeless body. "Serena," he murmured to his daughter. "I name you Serena." Edited by thetotalsimsgeek, Jul 28 2014, 07:20 AM.
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| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 27 2014, 02:58 AM Post #3 |
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Genius
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Six years later... Serena, the merchant's daughter, so on the corner of the town's Via Principalis, holding up two oranges in one hand and balancing a basket half full against her hip with the other. "Oranges! Oranges as fine as those emperor's gardens!" She shouted the be heard of the rattle of cart and the argument of two ship captains. "Buy them before they're all gone!" A few passerby gave her a curious glance, but none stopped to buy the oranges. Serena's stomach growled in hunger as she studied the oranges out of the corner of her eye. They looked so delicious, and she desperately wanted to eat one, but she and her father didn't have enough money to pay the emperor's taxes, so all the fruit she stole from the rich folk's orchards or shipments at the docks had to be sold to earn money for the outrageous tax, so they hadn't eaten in several days. If they didn't pay it, Augustus would be thrown in jail and handed a hefty fine while leaving a six year old daughter behind to fend for herself. She would have to get there attention, Serena decided. She placed the basket on the ground, picked up three oranges, and began to juggle. She opened her mouth and began to sing: "He sent our husbands, sons, fathers, brothers, off to sea, off to sea To conquer a new enemy! They were torn to shreds They lost their limbs, they lost their heads The emperor didn't cry He didn't lose any sleep at night He just had the bodies tossed into the seaaa! Wives, daughters, mothers, sister were a mess But the emperor ignored their cries and their pleas Wiped them off like dirty fleas But now wipe that frown off your face For joyous news has echoed across the land!" People had gathered around now, watching the young girl sing a song that was popular with the poor and the bottom end of the middle class. The emperor was a cruel tyrant that overtaxed them so he could build luxurious palaces. This was a popular song that Serena had heard the sailors singing at the docks. Every poor man and child knew it, and as she launched into the chorus, a group of pick pockets joined in. "Bang all your pots and pans, your pots and pans, your pots and pans! Clap your hands, clap your hands! Raise your voice, shout, shout, and raise your voice! The emperor is dead! Clap your hands! Shout for joy! Clap your hands! We've cut off his head and the emperor is dead!" A roar of approval echoed from several sailors that had stopped to listen and the pickpockets cheered. Several people tossed money at her feet, and a few merchants clapped their hands in time with the song. "He raised taxes so he could have a silk robe! He raised taxes to buy a porcelain globe! He raised taxes for a gold chair! He might've raised taxes but WE DON'T CARE!" Everyone watching cheered loudly and then joined in the chorus as many of them tossed money at her. "Bang all your pots and pans, your pots and pans, your pots and pans! Clap your hands, clap your hands! Raise your voice, shout, shout, and raise your voice! The emperor is dead! Clap your hands! Shout for joy! Clap your hands! We've cut off his head and the emperor is dead!" The angry shouts of the emperor's soldiers cut off Serena from leading them into the third verse. She saw the glint of armor in the hot sun, and knew she had to run. If the guards caught her, the one that had started singing the song, she and her father would be fined, and possibly executed for treason. So she shoved all her money and the remaining oranges into her woven basket and took off running. "Hey, catch the little b****!" One soldier shouted, pointing at the blonde haired girl that dodged beggars, sailors, and street vendors to get away. That soldier and another took off after her, but she didn't have to run in armor and she was already faster. Serena ran into a temple, and hid behind a column, holding her breath. The soldiers pounded up the steps and peered around. "Where'd the little brat go?" One snarled. "Who cares?" The second, who had a higher-pitched voice, grumbled. "A girl like her's a dime a dozen. Just another poor, little street urchin." "I bet she'll turn out to be another whore down at the docks," the first laughed wickedly. "By the time she's twenty years of age, she'll have delivered a child of another poor fool out of wedlock!" The other laughed outrageously, ignoring the requests of those to be quiet so they could pray. Serena's face was red with anger. How dare they speak of her that way! The soldiers left, still debating about how vulgar the little blonde girl would turn out. She glanced into her basket. She'd made quite a bit of money with her juggling and singing act. Enough to pay taxes, probably. Serena counted them quickly- much faster than someone her age should be able to. Serena was very smart, and extremely good at mathematics and languages already. It was enough to pay the taxes. The redness from her face began to fade and she smiled. Serena and her father would get to eat tonight- and not in the emperor's prison. Edited by thetotalsimsgeek, Jul 28 2014, 10:07 PM.
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| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 27 2014, 07:55 PM Post #4 |
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Genius
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Two Years Later… Serena paused and studied the sketch. She used her thumb to smooth out the wax, and then used her metal stylus to correct the mistake. She studied it again and smiled happily. “What are you drawing?” Came a boyish voice from behind her. Serena turned and smiled when she saw her best friend, Atticus. The raven-haired boy with glowing green eyes plopped down beside her. They both sat on the steps of the school for the education of rich young men, for which Atticus was too young and too poor for and Serena was too female. Atticus took one look at the drawing, and before Serena could even open her mouth to explain, he groaned. “Not the flying thing again!” “Yes, the flying thing again,” Serena replied, holding up her wax tablet so that he could see her design. “The flying thing” (as Atticus referred to it) was Serena’s fascination with the legend of Daedalus building the golden wings so that he and his son could escape. No one had been able to create the wings, but Serena was determined that she would be able to not only recreate them, but perfect them so no more people tumbled to an untimely death into the sea. “I think I’ve worked out how many golden feathers you would need to support the weight of the average human,” she told the young vampire boy proudly. “How will you keep the weight of the golden feathers from dragging the person down?” Atticus asked critically. Serena tapped the end of the stylus against the ground and grinned at him. “Why do you think I’m sitting on the steps of the center of learning? So that when the math class starts, I can sneak around and listen in through a window. I’ll copy down what I learn and apply it.” “You definitely aren’t boring, that’s for sure,” Atticus chuckled in reply. A small tremor shook the ground and the eight year olds both rolled their eyes. “A ship must’ve run into the docks again,” Serena sighed as she brushed a platinum blonde curl behind her ear. “All you need to be a sailor is a heartbeat, after all,” her friend joked, and they both giggled. They both knew of the stupidity of the vulgar sailors. Students streamed out of the school as a class let out, and one accidentally knocked Serena’s tablet out of her hands. It was thrown out of her hands and into the dirty street to rubbed against the dirt and dust and stepped on be feet. “No!” Serena cried, as she jumped for it. Atticus used his vampiric speed to save it from being knocked into a foul-smelling puddle. It was too late, though. All of Serena’s hard work as gone. She’d spent hours on the sketch and she snuck into countless classes and studied countless books to begin to learn the mathematics and physics required for her invention. “I’m sorry,” Atticus told her sadly as her handed her the tablet, which was wet, streaked with dirt, and blank. Serena bit her lip at she stared at it. “It’s okay,” she finally decided with a lop-sided grin. “One day, I’ll have it all written down again, and by then I’ll finally be old enough to build it!” “No one could ever say you were boring,” Atticus teased. “Race you to the docks!” They both took of running, laughing cheerfully. Edited by thetotalsimsgeek, Jul 28 2014, 07:24 AM.
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| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 27 2014, 10:05 PM Post #5 |
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Genius
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A Week Later… Serena bit her lip nervously. "I don't know about this, Atticus," she said nervously. "Father said I wasn't supposed to look at his book of spells until I was older." Atticus shrugged. "I'm sure he won't mind. After all, we're just going to look at it. You aren't going to actually cast the spells." "I guess so," she agreed, but she didn't sound convinced at all. She swung her legs, her feet skimming the water of the dock. Atticus didn't stick his feet into the water, claiming that it could make him grow a third eye. Atticus shot to his feet and yanked his friend to her's. "Come on, then!" He said excitedly. "Take my hand and I'll have us there in moments!" "Are you sure? Last time you tried this teleportation thing, I threw up afterwards and you were blind for a day!" She giggled. "You wound me deeply," he replied, trying not to grin. "Take my hand, you coward!" She grabbed his hand, still laughing, and the docks melted away. The two eight-year-olds reappeared in Augustus's study. Serena raced over to one of him bookshelves. "Get down on your hands and knees," she commanded Atticus. He did so, and she stood on his back. She pulled her father's book of spells down from the shelves and hopped off her friend's back. He stood, complaining of pain, but Serena ignored him in favor of flipping through the pages. "Serena? Are you home?" Augustus's voice floated up the stairs. Atticus immediately stopped complaining, and stretched out his hand to Sabrina. "Take my hand!" He hissed worriedly. "I thought you said he wouldn't mind!" Serena countered. "I may have stretched the truth just a bit…" "Atticus!" "Serena? Is that you?" The sound of feet on the stairs echoed into the study, and before Atticus could whisk them both away, Augustus stepped into the study, eyeing them both suspiciously. Serena was certain he could see the spell book she'd hidden behind her back, but luckily it wasn't as conspicuous as she had previously thought. Augustus opened his mouth to ask what they were doing, but a shrill scream interrupted him. He stuck his head out the window and immediately paled. "Run!" He said urgently to Atticus. "Run to the docks and jump into the water and swim as far away as you can!" Atticus took off running, using his vampiric speed to be gone in a second. He didn't question Augustus, and it was good he didn't. Augustus grabbed one of Serena's slim wrists and dragged her behind him as he took off running. He snatched something off his desk- a necklace that had been his wife's- before racing out the door with his daughter on his heels. When they stepped into the street, they were met with a horrible sight. Ash, rock, and lava rocketed out of Mount Vesuvius, and the lava had already sped it's way down into the town of Pompeii, and it was roughly a kilometer away and closing quickly. Chilling screams echoed throughout the town as its citizens were claimed by the burning of the lava or the suffocation of the ash. Augustus dragged Serena's towards the docks, hoping to jump in and swim to avoid death. He knew Atticus would be fine, and that he would most likely teleport them away. Atticus couldn't teleport two other people a long distance, though. The boy had barely learned how to teleport. Serena stumbled and nearly fell, so Augustus picked her up and continued to run. He wished he hadn't quit practicing magic. If he hadn't, he could teleport both of them away. When Augustus tripped, he knew he was as good as dead. The lava slid over his feet and legs and he screamed in agony. Serena was frozen in horror. The image of her father being melted and in so much pain was being permanently burned into her mind, so that she could have gruesome nightmares that would haunt her forever. While Augustus knew there was no hope for him, there was hope for his daughter. He tossed her his wife's necklace, and spoke the first magic word that came to mind. Sparkles swirled around Serena as the lava swept over Augustus's torso and he lost consciousness. |
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| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 28 2014, 12:25 AM Post #6 |
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The Same Day… Serena groggily sat up, still clutching her mother's necklace and her father's spell book. Where was she? She was in a field of some sort, surrounded by grass, small flowers, and dirt. And her father was… Don't focus on it, she mentally commanded herself. Luckily, the perfect distraction went soaring by overhead. Serena gasped as she saw a paper bird-like thing fly by over head. Serena rocketed to her feet and ran after it, but cringed when it smashed against the ground. She raced over to see what it was and found herself facing two men. One said something that sounded shocked, but Serena couldn't understand him. She remember the spell book and flipped through it until she found what she wanted. She murmured the word in Ancient Simlish before one of the men yanked the book away from her. "Another weird little brat roaming the plains," he muttered with a scowl, flipping through the book. "I can't read any of it, Simbur." "What'd you want me to do, Simville?" The other man sighed as he looked Serena up and down. She shifted uncomfortably as the man began to circle her. "Look at these clothes," the man called Simbur said, pulling at the sleeve of her tunic. Serena stepped away from him, and accidentally bumped into the one called Simville. "She's the right size for a test pilot," Simville commented. Simbur crouched in front of Serena. "How'd you like to be our test-pilot, darling?" "Test-pilot?" she squeaked. "How'd you like to fly?" Simville added. Serena's eyes lit up. "Yes!" Edited by thetotalsimsgeek, Jul 28 2014, 07:01 AM.
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| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 28 2014, 03:35 AM Post #7 |
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Genius
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A Year Later… Star, formerly known as Serena, sat by the fire in a field, writing in the journal she'd managed to buy with the few spare cents the Wright brothers gave her. It was filled with airplane sketches, journal entries, quotes she'd heard and liked, and new spells she learned. Simville and Simbur have started to call me "Star" instead of just "b****". At first, I thought they had given me the name because I was such a good flyer, so I was a star in their minds. I was wrong. Simville said it was because by the time they were through with me, I would have "a constellation of insecurities". Star was thrown to the ground and her journal and small pencil were knocked from her hands. "Whatcha doin', Star?" Simbur Wright sneered at her as he grabbed her platinum blonde braid, which went almost down to her waist, and threw her into the edge of the fire. Her arm got burned, and while Star's face twisted up in pain, she didn't dare make a sound. She'd learned that just got her into more trouble with the two vile Wright brothers. "Can I help you?" Star asked softly as she slid away from the fire. "Simville and I are going drinking, so stay out of trouble," Simbur snarled. "Got it, b****?" "Yes, sir," she agreed quietly. Simbur grabbed her burned arm and pulled on it, and tears welled up in Star's grey eyes from pain, but she she still didn't cry out. "Speak up!" He roared in her face. "Yes, sir!" She replied, louder. He threw her into the rock she had previously been sitting on and eyed the fire. "You know what I'll do if you disrespect me, brat," he snarled at her. Star winced as her eyes drifted down to her feet, still bright red from yesterdays punishment of walking on burning hot nails. "Yes, I do, sir," she agreed. Simbur laughed wickedly as he left with Simville. Star waited until they were out of sight before she dipped her arm into the stream and then washed, treated, and bandaged her burned flesh. She sighed as she saw that the fire burned the cuts on her wrist from yesterday when Simville cut them in with his favorite knife and reopened and worsened the deep gashes that had just begun to heal. She tore a strip off the bottom of one of her four shirts and wrapped it around her arm before she leaned back and used the remaining bits of light from the fire to finish her journal entry. Some days I don't know why I stay. I look at all the scars I'll have for years and I hate myself for staying. But then they've built a new prototype and I get up in the air, and I forget all my problems. When I'm up there, no one can touch me. I'm safe, I'm free. I'm not the little orphan girl that no one cares about. I'm Serena, shining star and queen of the skies. I'm never going to give up flying. It's the only thing that keeps me sane. But then I'm back on the ground. I hate being on the ground. I hate being down here, because down here they can hurt me. Yesterday, Simbur told me that no one would ever love me. He said that they would see the scars and run away scared. He said all that men care about are looks and he said a bone thin girl like me with scars will never be loved. He said if anyone gets past my scars, they'll find out about my insecurities and they'll be gone. He said that no one will ever love me and then he beat me and he made a brand on my back with a a hot burner. Now there's a brand on my back, in the center, of a star. It hurt so bad. The whole time he told me I'd be nothing more than a whore that sold herself on the streets. I'm afraid of that. I don't want to grow up and be like that- nothing more than a whore like the ones down at the docks in Pompeii. But I do want someone to love me. I think I'll hide my scars. Star closed her journal and hid it so Simbur and Simville wouldn't find it before curling up on a small, thin blanket next to the fire and trying to ignore the howls of wolves and fall asleep. Edited by thetotalsimsgeek, Aug 10 2014, 01:54 AM.
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| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 28 2014, 07:01 AM Post #8 |
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Genius
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Half A Year Later... Star knelt in front of the fire as she stirred the stew that hung over the fire. She was in charge of making dinner and she had to be cautious because Simbur had just bought a whip and more nails and was eager to test them. One mistake- no matter how small- and he'd get the chance. Still, she couldn't help but listen in as they discussed the aerodynamics behind her. She was like a sponge, soaking up whatever information she could find. They argued about the mathematics of it. Star dared a glance at their blueprints, and nearly burst out laughing. The answer was so simple. A faint smile appeared on her face. "Something funny?" Simville asked coldly. "No, sir," she replied politely. The smile vanished from her face. "Then work!" He shouted at her as he yanked on her long, pale blonde braid. "After all, wouldn't it be a shame if your pretty hair got caught in the fire and it burned off? It's the only thing that's even close to pretty about you." He smirked as Simbur roared with laughter. Star's face flushed red as she nodded and accepted that Simville was right. She dished up the stew and and held it out to the brothers. She wasn't allowed to serve herself until they'd gotten their meals. Simbur jerked it from her hand, making her accidentally spill some stew on Simville. The tall man shot to his feet, his eyes angry. "Simbur," he said, his voice dangerously low. "Get me my favorite knife and bring your whip if you'd like." Simbur grinned cruelly and dashed off to his tent. Sabrina tried to escape from Simville, but he grabbed her hair and shoved it into the flame. "No!" She shrieked. She had always been told her hair looked just like her mother's, and now that she was in this place that would never be home, she clung onto things that reminded her of Pompeii tightly. Add that to the fact that she had been repeatedly told it was the only thing that was a tiny bit pretty about her, and you could understand why she chose to cry out. "Oh, the little brat cares about looking pretty, does she?" Simville laughed as the fire devoured Star's hair. When her hair barely reached her shoulders, he dunked her hair into the pot of stew to put out the flames. Then he held her up by her collar so that his face was mere inches from hers. "You will never be pretty, you hear?" He hissed. "No one will ever love a b**** like you. H3ll, I wouldn't even consider marrying you to a pig, you're so pathetic. No one ever has or ever will love you. If they say they do, they're lying. You deserve all the pain you get in life." She nodded and she bit her lip and held back tears. Crying would make her an even easier target than she already was. "Yes, sir," she agreed. "Repeat it!" He hollered. "I will never be pretty and no one will ever love me. I'm not even fit to marry a pig because I'm so pathetic. No one ever has or ever will love me. If they say they do, they're lying. I deserve every bit of pain I get," she repeated. Her hands shook. Simbur stepped into the light. He carried Simville's favorite knife, which was already stained with Star's blood, and his brand new whip. Simbur wore an eager grin. "Hand me the knife," Simville chuckled darkly as he stretched out a hand to his brother. "She needs to be taught a lesson." Star sobbed as she sat by the creek. She was out of range for Simbur and Simville to hear her, and she could hear them as they snored in their tents anyway, so for now, the girl could cry. She had washed and bandaged her back, which was covered in deep marks made by the whip. That bandaged had brought her down to three shirts, and a bit had already been torn off another to mop the blood off the new scars Simville has given her on her wrist, and the scar he'd given her on her left shoulder that was in the design of a broken heart. She stood and wiped tears from her eyes as she pulled her journal from it's hiding spot in the hollow part of the tree. The stream she washed the blood off her in was on the border between the woods and the meadow. The forest was on the outskirts of a growing city called Bridgeport. She has gone a bit deeper into the forest to hide her journal when she first hid it so that the Wright brothers couldn't find it. She pulled out her pencil and began to write. I will never be pretty and I understand that now. The one thing about me that could possibly be pretty is ruined, so no one will ever love me now. My lovely platinum blonde curls has been burned in the fire I was making dinner under. I am as worthless as Simbur and Simville say. They say my grey eyes are dull, my skin is as white as a ghoul's, my freckles are unladylike, my facial features could make me blend in with a herd of horses, and I'm too skinny to ever be attractive to anyone. And then there's my scars. They're so deep I doubt they'll ever fade. They are just reminders of how pathetic I am. Simville said that the only way I'd ever find love is if I'm attractive, and since I am not, I won't. But that is alright, because no one will ever love me. If I don't care if I am pretty, when I hear that I am not it won't wound so deeply, and when no one ever loves me, I won't care. So from this day forward, I won't care. I need to get up in the air again. My sanity is hanging on by a string. Star closed the journal and hid it again. Her whole body ached as she climbed over the hill that lead to the meadow. She walked silently- a skill she had developed because she required it to survive. She cautiously opened the flap of Simville's tent and grabbed the airplane plans. Then she silently closed the tent and took off running. When she was far enough away to be safe, she began to study the plans, straining her eyes to be able to read them by moonlight. She found the mistake in their math and fixed it, showing care as she made sure it looked like Simville's handwriting. She dashed back to his tent and held her breath as she put the sketch back. She was almost safe- "Simbur?" Simville groaned, still half asleep. Star froze, but then remembered her natural talent for imitating voices. She had heard Simbur's voice enough to imitate it. She said in Simbur's voice, "Yeah, Simville?" "Just seeing who it was," Simville murmured before rolling back over. Star closed his tent again and then raced back to her blanket by the ashes of the fire. She fell asleep easily, but she was haunted by nightmares of her father repeatedly telling her he hated her and was glad to be rid of her. "Get up!" Star was awoken by Simbur's sharp voice and a swift kick to the ribs. She jolted awake and managed not to yawn as she said, "Yes, sir?" "Simville fixed the mathematics on our design, so we're going to start building. Get up and make us breakfast, b****," he grunted. Of course that dummy would steal my work, Star thought bitterly, but even that couldn't keep her mood down. Soon, she would be in the sky, where nothing could touch her. "And wipe that smile off your face," Simbur ordered. He slapped her, leaving a bright red mark. Star decided on a neutral expression. "Yes, sir." Simbur shoved her to the ground before he walked back to his tent, complaining about how useless Star was. The object of his hatred sighed as she flopped back on her thin blanket. Edited by thetotalsimsgeek, Jul 29 2014, 03:17 AM.
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| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 28 2014, 03:37 PM Post #9 |
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Genius
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A Month Later... Never before had Star been so outnumbered and so hated. Normally when Simville and Simbur came back from drinking, they came alone and they didn't bother her. Now they'd brought two disgusting men and a few women that Star refused to classify as ladies. They all listened and watched as Simbur kicked her around literally and Simville shared how worthless she was with the people they'd brought back to turn beating her into a show that allowed public admittance. The Wright brothers' "friends" laughed and jeered and made foul comments. One threw a small bottle of nectar at her. It smashed and spray all over her and some glass made a long scar across her right palm. That gave the rest of the juiced fools the idea to throw something at her. A rock hit her head and left a bloody gash. Simbur picked it up as he grinned wickedly. He tossed the blood stained rock up and down, catching it and throwing it, as he chuckled, "I think I'll keep this." "Have you ever had a friend?" One of the men asked, holding her up by her neck and cutting off oxygen. "Yes, sir," she croaked. "Aw, don't kill my punching bag," Simbur complained as Star began to wheeze for air. The man dropped her and kicked her before he laughed and stepped back. Simville crouched in front of her and said, his voice rich with fake sympathy, "Aw, you had a friend and you lost them. Do tell us about them." "H-his name was Atticus," Star replied shakily, knowing she would be in trouble if she didn't tell them. "Ooh, a boy," one of the woman laughed outrageously. Star hated them. She hated them so much- not because they hurt her. She deserved it. She understood that now. No, she hated them because she knew they would make fun of her best friend, who was so kind, so cheerful, so amazing. "Tell us more about him," the tall, bearded man cackled. "W-we liked to run," Star continued. "On the roofs. People called us the Roof Runners. Atticus was so fast and a special bird lived near us that would mimic me when I sang." "You liked to run?" Simbur smirked. "Y-yes, sir," she agreed. "Watch the little b**** for me, Simville," Simbur commanded before disappearing. Simville threw Star back. "Atticus didn't care about you. He befriended you out of pity or hopes that you'd turn out pretty enough to be a wife. No one has ever cared about you or ever will. It's impossible to love you. Anyone that says they care secretly hates you." Simbur returned with his matches and nails. He chuckled gleefully as he set up the nails and lit them on fire. He shoved Star onto it, and she burned her hands. "Run!" He mocked as everyone else laughed and shouted cruel things at her. Star stood cautiously and when she didn't move, Simville stabbed a knife in her shoulder. She cried out in pain and began to run across the nails, trying to block out what the evil people screamed at her. |
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| thetotalsimsgeek | Jul 29 2014, 04:33 AM Post #10 |
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Genius
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A Week Later... My hair is growing again. I cut of the burned bits with Simville's knife when he was sleeping, and neither he nor his brother noticed. I keep thinking about Atticus. The other day I went into town to get groceries and supplies. I heard a small group of boys around fourteen talking about what they called "The Roof Runners". I was shocked to discover they spoke of Atticus and I. We had become a legend. They say that the Roof Runners were two courageous heroes that challenged the laws of a cruel tyrant by racing across rhe roofs at night and singing the songs of birds. We're inspirational. When they boys caught me listening, they threw stones at me. I have a cut on my cheek, which Simbur later poured juice into so that it would sting. But even the burning in my cheek can't distract me. I'm curious about my friend. Is he still alive? Vampires can live forever, so perhaps he is still around. I miss Atticus, although I doubt he misses me. I bet he and my father are rejoicing that I'm out of their lives, that they no longer have to care for the ugly, foolish little brat I was and am. Star slammed her journal shut when a voice behind her laughed, "Slacking again, Star? That's a shame." It was Simbur's deep voice. "N-no, sir," she stuttered. Simbur fingered Simville's old knife. Simville had recently gotten a new one and given his old one to his brother. "And lying. Sounds like you need to be reminded of the rules." "Yes, sir," she agreed weakly. Simbur yanked the journal from her hands and shoved it into the hollow tree she hid it in. He stabbed the knife through the center of it. "I never want to see you writing in that ever again," he commanded coldly. "Yes, sir," Star agreed sadly. Simbur cackled. "Oh, don't be sad. I have a new assignment for you." He held out a sheet of paper and made a precise cut on her veins. "I want you to drip the blood out in a such a way that it writes 'I am worthless' over and over until I say stop." Star nodded weakly. She kneeled down and began her task. By the time Simbur let her stop, spots danced jn her eyes and shs felt lightheaded. Simbur kicked her in the stomach. "Pathetic," he snarled before throwing her into the creek. |
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I see that you've stumbled upon the backstory of Sabrina Flynn, an acrobat from the past with a love of flying. This will explain why she is the way she is today.




3:38 PM Jul 11