New world issues & solutions. The story of Charity.

Joy of joys, I spent almost all of yesterday trying to solve a few issues. I’m still working on one of them.

My first issue was I tried to track down my TS3 backup files of all the commercial lots I’ve built. I did find some of them but nothing very recent. I did manage to find 3 cd’s full of stuff for TS2. I’ve searched every drawer, drive and disc except for the lappy. Today I’ll search that, wish me luck! I’m finding it rather odd that I found some buildings that are way old but I can’t find most of the stuff in the pics on this blog. Go figure.

The other issue is in game and if I can’t fix it I’ll need to start over yet again. Kind of my own fault as I forgot about the junkyard spawners being buggy. I keep deleting the spawners but have yet to get a clean lot. I despise that the game plops down the AMB lots wherever it wants in SV without caring to ask me first like it does in the other worlds. If I have to start over AGAIN then I plan to edit world first and place the junkyard where I WANT it to go before the game has a chance to challenge my patience again.

As soon as the spawner issue is cleared up I will start adding pics to this blog section.

While I was rummaging around looking for stored buildings I stumbled across a story I wrote 7 years ago. It’s the only sim story I ever wrote. Since this entry is so small and I don’t want you to be bored, here it is minus the pics. I first posted this story on The Sims Resource in 2010. I doubt it can still be found in their archives.

—————————- Charity ———————————

She’s been wandering for years, looking for others. She has no clue what happened but she knows there used to be lots of people. Her oldest memories are full of strange faces and even stranger places. Looking absently around as she plods along the abandoned road she stops in amazement. Is that what she thinks it is or is she finally losing her mind, she wonders. She runs a few steps to get a better view. It is, it’s a building! It looks like an old warehouse. As she gets closer she notices there are lights on inside. That’s when she realizes that it’s getting dark, so she decides to investigate.

The building is dry and seems empty, but then she would have been amazed to find otherwise. Seeing nothing but whats looks to be some old bales of hay she goes upstairs to find paradise. There’s a bathroom and the toilets even flush, well, most of the time. There’s even a couple of shower stalls and a few sinks. To top it off there is an old sofa in an adjoining room. Grinning like an idiot, Charity strips off for the first shower she has had in who knows how long. This is ever so much better than washing in a river or standing in the rain, even if it is cold.

As she washes off the built up grime she wonders why this place is here. She’s followed roads for hundreds of miles but there never have been buildings. No people, no buildings, no animals, just miles and miles of empty roads. Pulling her clothes back on she decides to worry about it tomorrow, tonight she is going to sleep like a baby on that sofa.
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Waking to face yet another dreary day in what has, so far, been a rather miserable life, Charity wonders if today is going to be different. Eating her last bit of lettuce she decides to explore the rest of the warehouse.

Looking out a window she realizes that it’s almost lunchtime. Exploring the old building left her with only 2 things, an old matress and a beat up guitar. The need for another shower faded to the back of her mind when her stomach rumbled. Going outside she starts searching for edible plants. Finding what looks like an onion she has lunch, though she wonders about onions that grow on bushes rather than under the ground. Well, it tasted all right and there was no one to complain about her breath. Chuckling softly Charity decides to explore a bit of the surrounding area.

Standing on the road outside the warehouse she realizes there are lots of roads here, this had been a town once. She must have been more tired than she realized to have missed noticing this last night. Everything was so still and quiet. Trees wherever she looked and weeds most places too. It was all so overgrown that she wondered how the warehouse had survived. There seemed to be nothing else around.

Strolling down one of the many streets she caught a glimpse of something through the trees. Another building! Maybe some of this town had survived after all, maybe some of the people too. Trying to control her excitement Charity decides to investigate.

Seeing the swing set and bike racks Charity realizes this was a school. Now why didn’t she see this as she went by last night, she knows she wasn’t THAT tired. Well maybe she was just too focused on getting to the warehouse. As she approaches the school building she swears she can hear children laughing, but when she goes inside there’s nothing but rows of dusty old benches. No one has been in here for years it seems. Spying a small bookshelf she finds a few undamaged books and takes them with her as she leaves.

Wondering what to do now she sees a large dome in the distance, was that there before? She is beginning to get nervous, as if someone were watching her. Shrugging off the feeling she decides to hike up the hill to look at the dome, it doesn’t appear to be that far away and she has an apple in her pocket. She should be able to make it there and back before dark. Even though she knows there are no animals any more, she’s no longer comfortable being outdoors at night.

As she gets closer to the dome she realizes it’s even bigger than she thought it was and there are trees inside it. Frustrated and unable to find a way into the dome she turns to head back to town. Pausing to get her bearings, Charity sees the lake. Now where did that come from, she wonders, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have overlooked an entire lake. The feeling of being watched is even stronger here than it was down by the school. Putting the lake out of her mind she heads back to the warehouse, it will be dark soon.

As she trudges back down the hill she stops to admire a pretty rock. She has seen many similar rocks in the last few weeks but never so many in one place before, they seem to be all over the town. Looking up from the rock she is startled to see that the sun is setting rapidly. She drops the rock and runs, feeling as if she is being chased. Her heart pounding as if it wants to leap from her chest, her breath rasping painfully, she sees the warehouse in the distance. Relief gives her the strength to keep running. As she closes the warehouse door behind her, panting and barely able to stand, she wonders why she is so afraid. She knows she is alone, she’s not even heard a cricket in what seems half a lifetime.

Trying to shake the feeling, she eats her apple and takes a long shower before crawling under the blankets. As she drifts into an exhausted sleep her last thought is, where did the blankets come from.
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The next morning Charity wakes to a sunny day. Forgetting her worries of the night before, she tidies the blankets on the mattress. Stepping back, she studies the bed a moment. There was something she should remember, something about the bed. She ponders a moment then, shrugging her shoulders, she goes off to search for her breakfast.

The onion bush isn’t quite ready yet so she continues looking. Rummaging under a shrub, she hears something move. Quickly drawing back her hand she looks closer. Wouldn’t you know, it’s a cockroach. Shaking her head she thinks her mom was right, the cockroaches have outlived the humans, except for her. Thinking of her mom makes her smile in a sad way. It’s been so long that her mothers face is more of a fuzzy memory than a reality. Ignoring the bugs she continues her hunt for food and is thrilled when she finds a bell pepper plant with ripe peppers on it. She quickly breaks one open and seeds it neatly.

Munching her pepper as she strolls through whats left of the town, Charity wonders how to fill her day today. She wanders past the empty school building and the old farmhouse across the street from it. Something tugs at the edge of her memory about that house but she ignores it and continues on to the center of town.

She spends the day wandering the silent streets, daydreaming of how the world used to be. Seeing homes and shops instead of weed infested woodlands, remembering the sounds of children playing and birds singing. Without realizing it she finds herself up near the old dome. It’s a beautiful view from here. She can see the waterfall in the distance, the town is laid at her feet and the afternoon sun sparkles off the lake. Wondering who owns that boat she turns to head back down the hill.

Three steps later it hits her, a boat, there is a BOAT in the bay. She quickly turns back and yes, it’s still there. Running headlong down the hill she strains to keep the boat in sight without breaking her neck. She reaches the beach safely only to have all thoughts of the boat driven from her head as she hears the scream of the seagulls overhead. Shading her eyes from the sun she watches the birds swoop and dive. She loved watching the seagulls when she was a child, she hadn’t thought of them in years. Lowering her hand, Charity looked around. No one in sight, no sounds but the surf and the gulls. No reason to be this tense suddenly. Unable to control herself she runs down the beach toward town. She must get back to the warehouse. It’s not safe on the beach at night. Fleeing in terror with no idea why, Charity runs back through the empty streets to the warehouse.

She comes to her senses standing in the shower, fully dressed, rubbing soap on her clothes. There must be an easier way to wash these things she thinks. Giving up, she strips down and washes herself, the warm water feels so good pounding on her back. After her shower she rinses out her soapy clothes at the sink and drapes them over the window sill to dry.

As she smoothes the wrinkles from her jeans she looks up at the night sky. There are so many stars and the air is so clear. Her terror of the night has already faded like a dream. Finishing her last pepper she washes her hands and heads off to bed. What she really needs is a good nights sleep, that will take care of the fuzziness inside her head. It’s just exhaustion she tells herself. She is sound asleep almost before her head hits the pillow.
———————————————————–

Sunlight slanting through the blinds brings Charity abruptly awake. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes she wishes for a cup of coffee. Sighing, she decides to have her breakfast in the park this morning. Splashing some water on her face, she decides that a bit of jogging might help wake her up, if only she had shoes. It amazed her how tender her feet were considering how far she had walked.

Walking quickly, she reaches the park in no time. As soon as her toes touch the soft grass she begins to jog toward the pond. Admiring the pristine little pond, she realizes you can see the waterfall from here. One of these days I’m going to hike up there, she says to herself. She walks around the pond wondering if there are any fish in it, she’s getting a bit bored being a vegetarian. Deciding to try her luck, she begins to search for a sturdy yet flexible branch to use for a pole.

Wondering why she never considered fishing before, Charity is startled by what sounds like a door slamming. Dashing across the park, she is distracted by what appears to be a green butterfly. Halfheartedly trying to catch one she smells something. Lifting her nose to the breeze, she realizes the smell is familiar. I must be hallucinating, she thinks. Inhaling deeply, she starts to salivate. Startled, she speaks. “I smell coffee!”

She follows that glorious aroma, around the trees and across the street to the little store. Pausing to wonder why she didn’t come here as soon as she woke up, she is too distracted to notice the sound of footsteps. As soon as she enters the old store her gaze is drawn to the coffeemaker. It seems out of place here in this old building but the thought of real coffee lures her on.

Barely noticing the television in the next room, Charity is thrilled when her cup starts to fill. Taking her cup she turns to sit at one of the tables. For just a moment she hears the echo of footsteps in the silent building. The smell of the coffee drifts up into her face as she buries her nose in the cup. “mmmmm” she says, “Smells just like a cappuccino.” Carefully sipping the hot beverage she almost drops the cup in amazement. Staring dumbfounded at the cup, she carefully sets it on the table in front of her and gets up. Backing away from the table she steps into the next room.

Looking around she sees an old television surrounded by hard wooden chairs, through a doorway she can see bookshelves and some over stuffed furniture. Her eyes pass over the staircase as if it isn’t there. Without pausing to think she plops down in a chair in front of the television and turns it on. Nothing happens. Disgusted for giving way to fantasy, she tells herself that of course it doesn’t work, it probably hasn’t worked for years.

Pulling her guitar from her pocket, not feeling the least bit surprised that it fit in there, Charity pretends to give a private concert. In her mind the room is filled with friendly people, who would much rather listen to her play than watch an old television. The music bounces back at her, causing her to notice the wonderful acoustics in the empty building. She puts her guitar away after a few songs, knowing that she will never have an audience again.

She passes quickly through the coffee room on her way out thinking how neat and tidy it is, not a dirty cup in sight. Leaving the store she decides to come back tomorrow for another cappucino.

Wandering back to the park Charity sees a path in the distance. The path seems to be headed toward the waterfall so she decides that is where she will explore today. A part of her feels almost drawn toward the waterfall.
——————————————————————-

Charity follows the winding path past flowering shrubs and a small yellow house. She can see a bit of roof through the trees and what looks like a windmill. Topping a small rise she finds that the path leads to an old red barn with a small corral in the front and what she hopes are a few fruit trees nearby. Ever curious, she tries the door, which opens easily. With the smell of fresh mown hay thick in her nostrils, she enters the barn.

Walking across the barn floor to the back door, she passes several empty horse stalls. She passes a table and several bales of hay. As she goes through the back door something rustles in the loft, causing a few stray bits of hay to drift down behind her. Distracted by what she sees out the window, Charity doesn’t notice as she leaves the barn.

Pulling a lime from her pocket as she steps out of the barn door, she stares at the huge windmill. There’s something familiar yet disturbing about the writing on the vane, but she’s can’t figure out what. Dismissing the thought she continues to follow the path.

The winding path eventually leads to a short lane that ends at a set of large iron gates. In the distance Charity can see the old dome, she’s walked further than she thought. Beyond the gates she can see some strange looking rocks, boulders really as they are quite large, and a small building that reminds her of a crypt. The gates are rusted shut but there is a break in the low stone wall. Clambering over the fallen wall she enters the weed infested yard.

Ignoring the crypt she walks toward the stones. She feels connected to them somehow, she tries to stop but she has no choice, her feet lead her on. She crosses the remains of a cobblestone path and suddenly sags in defeat, weakened for no reason. The feeling only worsens as she nears the strange stones. Approaching the largest of the standing stones, the fact that they appear to be laid out in a circle escapes her as she is  mesmerized by the writing on the stone. She can almost read it, there is something about it that is so very, very familiar. If only she could remember.
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Walking through the clearing towards the beach Charity doesn’t bat an eye at the boat out on the bay. Ignoring it as if it belonged there, she wonders where the morning went and notices the last of her limes is missing too. Perhaps she just miscounted when she set out this morning.

Upon reaching the beach she breathes in the air deeply and laughs aloud for the sheer joy of it. Her head turns toward the sound of waves pounding. Seeing what looks like the pilings from an old pier she takes off down the beach, loping along at a ground eating pace. Spotting a group of large boulders beyond the pier, she almost trips. The boulders are grouped in a rough half circle. Something nags at the edge of her memory but why would these rocks seem familiar. She knows she has never been down here before. Shaking off the odd feeling she runs on toward the old pier.

Passing the pier she hears splashing close to the shore. Staring out across the waves she doesn’t seem to see the large umbrella nearby. Sudden thoughts of a fish dinner cause her to get out her fishing pole. As she casts her line she wonders why she is surprised to have a pole in her pocket. A leaping fish catches her eye and the thought drifts away on the breeze. She gives all her concentration to fishing as the waves pound on the distant rocks.

Dripping with sweat after what seems like hours in the sun, Charity puts the useless pole back into her pocket. Looking around for some shade she spots a lime tree at the edge of the beach. Searching the tree she finally locates one pitifully small lime, barely ripe enough to eat. As the juice trickles down her throat she sees another of those odd yet pretty rocks out of the corner of her eye. Tossing away the peel and wiping her hands on her jeans, she decides that this one she will take with her.

Looking around for more rocks she sees what looks like a very large seed lying in the grass. The setting sun reflects dully off the water as she reaches for the strange seed. Upon closer examination she has the feeling that the seed, of all things, is familiar. Puzzled she tucks it carefully into her pocket then notices the change in the light. Straightening up she looks for a way out, terrified of the falling night. Seeing the first star in the darkening sky prods her to action. She takes off, running like a madwoman, no thought at all for her tender feet. Scorning the winding path she heads for the hills fleeing as if her life depended on how fast she ran. Her heart beating in rhythm with her pounding footsteps.

Over and over in her head like a mantra, she hears the words again and again, the warehouse, the warehouse, as if the words themselves would keep her safe. No longer questioning the fear, she flees on through the night, despair looming larger with every step. Suddenly she was there. Safe at last. The warehouse.

Shaking, she stumbles wearily to her bed, wondering if the fear will ever leave her.
——————————————————————-

Grabbing a quick shower before heading out for her morning cappuccino, Charity considers going up to the waterfall today. Putting it off until tomorrow she needs to gather extra food for the hike, her supplies have dwindled quickly. Deep in thought, she pauses just outside the coffee shop thinking she hears people talking. Deciding that her imagination is getting the best of her she slips inside to brew a cup. Quickly slamming her coffee she’s back out the door in moments.

She decides to head back to the beach, there has to be more than just that one lime tree. Carefully combing the tree line she manages to find an apple tree before lunch. She gratefully gathers all the ripened fruit while carefully making a note of her location. There are several fruit trees in the area that should be ready to harvest soon.

Munching on an apple she realizes she has too many to carry so she heads back to the warehouse to drop them off. She stashes the apples in an empty drawer, thinking how lucky it was that the previous residents of the warehouse left some stuff behind, then heads out back to look for that pepper plant again. Searching the area she finds another of those pretty rocks. Hefting it in her hand she decides to keep it. It’s just the right size to… Her head snaps around at a faint sound from behind her. Barely breathing, she listens closely, to nothing. Giving herself a mental shake for being ridiculous, she decides to grab her guitar and head back to the park, she finds it very soothing there.

She snags an onion from the bush as she goes by and is in the park in record time. Staring into the depths as she finishes her onion, she sees movement in the water. Digging out her pole, she tosses out her line so eagerly that it snags in the tree overhead. By the time she yanks it down again she is frustrated and ready to wait on the fishing for a bit longer. She checks the tune on her guitar, amazed again at the clean tones that she coaxes from the old instrument. Falling into the music she is oblivious to everything around her.

Lifting her head, she could swear she heard a car go by. Setting down the guitar for a moment she takes a quick trip to the outhouse. As she comes back out she notices what looks like lettuce across the street. Putting away the guitar she goes to check it out. She manages to find 3 decent heads of lettuce and enough dirt that she could use a quick wash.

Back at the pond she washes the warm earth from her hands and face. It’s still fairly early but she’s starting to feel tired. Shaking the excess water from her hands she walks around the pond to sit gingerly on the old park bench, hoping it won’t crumble beneath her. Leaning back she decides the bench is sturdier than it looks. Curling up on the bench, she lays her head on her hands and watches the sunlight play on the water. Her eyes drifting shut, she sleeps peacefully as afternoon turns to evening and dusk gathers.

Hours later she wakes, not realizing where she is at first. Then suddenly it hits her, it’s night and she is outside! Panic strikes as she rises from the bench, franticly she looks around seeking shelter. Spying the outhouse she almost leaps for the door. Inside she slides to the floor, her back against the flimsy door, sobbing. Huddled against the door, she strains to listen. The scream threatens to claw it’s way from her throat as she hears rustling nearby. Something is searching for her.
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She wakes feeling cramped and sore. Stumbling from the outhouse, she shivers in the wan light of dawn. Bits of half remembered dreams float at the corners of her mind along with whats left of a headache. Watching the sun rise, Charity decides that today is the day she tries for that waterfall. She heads back to the warehouse for a shower and to gather some supplies for the hike.

The sun is still low in the sky as she leaves the warehouse with bulging pockets. Heading toward the waterfall in the distance she decides that she’ll only follow roads as long as they go in the direction she wants. Not far from the edge of town she is forced to take to the woods. It may be cooler under the trees but hiking is still sweaty work.

What seems like hours later she finds herself in a clearing on a stony rise. While startled to see that the sun hasn’t moved much higher in the sky she is pleased to find that the waterfall seems much closer now. Barring accidents she should be there before lunch. Clambering across the rocks, she starts to wish she had found a path that came this way, it would have been a much easier climb.

What seems like only moments later she wanders out of the dense shrubbery to find a road. Stumbling up the road, she can hear the waterfall, the pounding in her head throbbing to the rhythm of the falling water.

She barely notices when the road comes to an end, her head hurts so badly. Staring numbly at the raging waterfall she forgets all about that swim she was hoping for. Gradually she begins to notice her surroundings, her headache is starting to slowly seep away. There are a great number of those pretty rocks here but they hold no interest for her today.

Deciding it’s lunchtime she peels a lime to munch on while exploring the shore of the small lake. There’s a large clearing, protected by the mountainside, and several fruit trees and edible plants nearby. Lots of stone just the right size for building too, this would be a great place for a home. Stomping quickly on her daydreams, Charity turns to head back to town and the safety of the warehouse. As the sounds of the waterfall begin to fade behind her, Charity reasons that as long as she goes downhill she is going in the right direction. Jogging easily she heads downhill. Looking over her should she tries to shake the feeling of being watched.

Coming round a curve she is dismayed to find a branch in the road. Surrounded by hills and trees she has no idea which way to go. She decides to go left. If it seems to be the wrong direction she can always turn and come back here. The road tops a small rise then rushes down the other side as she stops to gawk at what she sees. Rubbing her temples in an attempt to disperse the returning headache, she stares at what appears to be a small military installation hidden deep in the hills. Knowing she did not come this way, she turns to go back. When she hears a familiar voice call her name softly, she stops, confused. Her head pounding, she looks all around but there is nothing, just the wind in the trees. She heads back to the intersection, going to the right this time. Nearly blinded with pain she stumbles down the road toward town.

Reaching the warehouse she drags herself up the stairs towards the bed. The pain in her head driving all other thought away. Collapsing on the bed, feeling as if the pain will tear her apart, her eyes start to drift shut. As the pain closes in on her mind she can hear those voices again and what sounds like a very incessant beeping. Escaping into the gathering darkness she hears what sounds like her mother weeping, the strange beeping noise stops.
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Shoving back her chair and hitting the power button on the pc, the little girl sighs and rubs at her temple. She likes reading the stories almost as much as she likes playing the game, that last one was kind of weird though. Wandering in search of her mother the pain strikes at her viciously. Crumbling to the ground unconscious, she doesn’t hear her mother scream out her name.

Everyone came to the funeral, the girl was greatly loved in the small town. Her mother was devastated and had put the old house by the waterfall up for sale, the furnishings and toys donated to the local orphanage. She couldn’t stay here any longer, every time she closed her eyes she could hear the sound of Charity’s laughter.

Opening her eyes to sunlight through the trees, she is soothed by the sounds of a waterfall nearby. She can see a small town in the distance, though from here it mostly looks abandoned. At the edge of the town is what looks like an old warehouse, the red cross on it’s roof belies the fact that it was once the towns hospital. She can’t remember much, just a few hazy images that make no sense at all. Pushing those images to the side Charity decides that this would be a lovely place to build a big house, after all there is already a mailbox and a trashcan here….
—————————— THE END ——————————–

Thus began Charity’s new life as a sim. Having been a player in her previous life she was quite happy in my little abandoned town of Averton, as long as her memory never returned.

She and her descendants rebuilt the town and turned it into a booming metropolis. She was a lot of fun to play with and the story just sort of grew out of the game. For Averton my idea was to start with a park only town and a dead broke sim, then let it grow as my sims needs grew. It worked. It was weird but it worked LOL.

I have a couple hundred pics I took while playing Charity and almost every one is from behind her. After much searching I found one that kinda shows her. It’s a moment in the little store when she thinks she hears footsteps but is distracted by the fact that the coffee tastes just like cappuccino. Charity was one of the few sims I played that had a normal human skin tone.

Have a happy!