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Author Topic: Xenophobia: Pride & Prejudice - Chapter Twenty-four  (Read 137932 times)
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Sam the T-man
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« on: February 13, 2008, 09:47:45 pm »

xenophobia [(zen-uh-foh-bee-uh, zee-nuh-foh-bee-uh)]

An unreasonable fear, distrust, or hatred of strangers, foreigners, or anything perceived as foreign or different.

~ From

Fear breeds hatred. Hatred breeds violence. Violence is fueled by aggression, which runs rampant through the all-human, all-male household. Caught in the crossfire is a boy in his mid-teens, bound to one family by blood, and the other by friendship. All he wants is for the two sparring households to make up and move on, but what will it take for that to happen?

Author's Notes

Hi guys, it's me again! As you may be able to tell, I've put a lot of effort into this one (so if this suffers the same fate my others seem to have, I'll be pretty upset Tongue), mostly meaning a testing/enhancing of my Photoshopping and picture-taking skills. You may also have noticed, I've changed the looks on a few sims, but I made sure you can still recognise them Wink There is/may be a few issues with the meshes, but I can't help those sadly Sad

This story is mainly about the aforementioned family feud, but there are sub-stories that add twists and turns to the main one. It's also in a different style to that you've previously seen from me, and the chapters are longer and more picture-heavy (advance warning for those of you with slower connections Wink). You may ask why I did such-and-such with so-and-so - this is just the way I imagine them to be for myself, or maybe even the way they act in my game - not elaborating much here, but one sim who may be horrible in other games is a sweetie in mine :love2:

A word about the setting; my other stories are based in England as that 'hood was completely custom, whereas this one was made by Maxis. It's obvious from things like mailboxes and police uniforms that it was set in the States, so that's where I've kept it - now, I face the challenge of an English author working with American characters and settings. Although I think I've pulled it off pretty well, don't hesitate to pull me up on any mistakes I make, I'm bound  to slip up here and there Wink

What of the other stories?

Think of this as a break. I get the feeling from lack of comments lately, that guys are beginning to get bored of my utopian (comparatively) neighbourhood, and I wouldn't blame you - I'm getting bored with it! :laughing: They've made good writing/picture practice, but my nice nature put up a boundary against being too mean to the characters (especially since I got attached to a lot of them), which now I'm beginning to get past as I seek new material to work with. There are a few interesting stories in Strangetown, but this one stood out the most for me - not to mention the back-story offered just by the Grunts.

Special Thanks

Joe Mulcahy and his video series for inspiring me to rescue Strangetown from the depths of my Program Files folder
SaraMK at MATY for fixing the default neighbourhoods, and her tutorial on merging them
Decorgal at MTS2 for her posing hacks (especially her custom poses box)
Spookymuffin for tweaking Stargazer's main lighting mod
HystericalParoxysm at MTS2 for her Seasons lighting mod
XPTL297 and alkaloid for their default hair overrides
Oepu for her gorgeous skintones and whoever made them default
Margierytka for her remakes of the Strangetown community lots
All you other CC creators and modders out there :worship:

*looks above* Think that's everything - enjoy the story! Smiley


« Last Edit: June 15, 2009, 04:04:56 pm by » Logged

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Astral Faery

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« Reply #1 on: February 13, 2008, 10:07:27 pm »

Pfaw - I don't care if you use an English voice to tell an American story - it's all good.  

Enhance your photoshopping skills?  Are you kidding me?  Look at that picture.  It's gorgeous.  I can only dream about making such nice pictures.

I'm glad some of the characters got makeovers, first, lol.  They needed it.  I've never had much of an affection for these families, but I'm very curious to see what you do with them.  Looking forward to it!

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Sam the T-man
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« Reply #2 on: February 13, 2008, 10:16:41 pm »

I just knew there'd be a reply while I was posting Wink Thanks - actually that title slide was the kind of thing I meant by "enhancing" my skills, it's about the first time I've felt comfortable enough to try something like that. Glad you like it, hope you enjoy the story Cheesy

An eye opened sleepily, peering at the face on the clock sat upon the end table. The minute hand indicated the approaching of six in the morning, yet already movement could be detected by the boy’s ears. Nothing new there, he thought as he turned over in his bed, his eyes closed once more as he resumed his peaceful dozing.

Suddenly the door flew open, and the dormant light-bulb blossomed into a glowing flower, illuminating the room with a harsh, bright light. A barking voice cut through the stillness of the room, reverberating off the walls and enhancing the already loud volume of the authoritative sounding words.
“Rise and shine mister! Get out of that bed and get yourself ready!”

The combination of loud voice and bright light was enough to stir the youth from his slumber, but after the initial jolt such a greeting would provoke in anyone, he groaned softly to himself as he sat up in his bed, allowing himself a leisurely yawn as he did so.

“Morning Dad,” Ripp Grunt greeted wearily, an indifferent air to his voice.
“It’s Sir!” Buzz corrected sharply, “And get that bomb site of yours tidy when you get home!”
With that he spun cleanly on his heels, marching briskly out of the room as suddenly as he appeared. Ripp waited until the door loudly closed behind him, before giving a Nazi-style salute as he rose from his bed.
“Yes Sir,” he bit sardonically, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light as he found his way to the chest of drawers in his room. After lazily lobbing his under-garments onto the bed, he turned his attention to the floor as he retrieved what would be his outfit of choice for the day.

Ripp scowled as his father’s words rang in his ears, glancing quickly about the cluttered room. It wasn’t as though dust lay thick upon the furnishings, the bedding stained, or spiders had made their homes upon the walls. It was just… homely, that was all. Organised chaos, he named it with affection. Tidiness drove him to distraction; what was the point in tidying the one room you could call sanctuary, if it meant you couldn’t bear to retreat there? He knew where everything was, that was the main thing.

Tank, Ripp’s older brother, was already bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he saw to breakfast. He was less jittery at the sound of his father’s loud voice when it could be heard, doing little more than reaching out to tap his shoulder.
“Morning soldier!”
“Morning Sir!” came his chirpy reply as he gave a snappy salute, not turning to face Buzz for fear of letting the food catch, but for no other reason.
“Smells good!”
“Thanks,” Tank grinned, serving up the omelette before emitting a piercing whistle.

“Come an’ get it!!” he bellowed, almost at the same volume as his father, who didn’t so much as flinch as he took his plate.
It wasn’t Ripp who answered the call first, but the youngest member of the family, Buck.

“Morning Junior,” Tank greeted with a fond smile as he sat to his own meal.
“Hi,” Buck grinned back as he took his seat.
Cheery whistling could be heard from a distance, growing louder as a now fully awakened Ripp ambled into the kitchen.
“Morning Junior,” Tank repeated, this time his smile taking on a wry demeanour.
“Yo,” he greeted as he sat at the table. Upon catching sight of Tank’s face however, he broke into a fit of sniggers as he loaded his fork.
“Hiding the bruises Johnny gave you?” he teased, a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

“Shut up,” came the biting reply as Tank’s features creased into an angry scowl.
Buzz looked at him with a surprised expression, realising now there lurked an underlying motive for the face paint.
“Tank, really…” he remarked coolly, tutting and shaking his head, “Not good, son.”
“I know, I know,” Tank conceded, after swallowing his mouthful of food.
“You lost to an alien?!” Buzz continued, “Not losing your touch, I hope?”
Ripp snorted at the hypocrisy of their father’s words, but stifled the urge to remind him of that by chewing on another mouthful of omelette.
“No, course not,” Tank soothed with a smile, “He was just lucky this time…”
“He kicked your ass!” Ripp proclaimed triumphantly, “Admit it Tank, you suck!”
Tank bit his tongue, but the anger etched on his face amplified the contempt he now expressed by extending his middle finger.
Ripp merely sniggerd as he swallowed his mouthful, but after basking in the glory of the moment, the smile slipped from his lips as he spoke again.
“What’ve you got against him, anyways?” he quizzed, “Johnny’s a nice guy, why don’t you give him a chance?”
“He’s alien!” came the simple reply.
“Half alien,” Ripp rectified, knowing almost as soon as he said it that his words would carry no weight.
“He’s still green!” Tank growled, finalising his analysis of the situation with a stubborn bite on a new piece of omelette.
Ripp slowly shook his head in disapproval, before voicing his thoughts.
“No wonder you don’t have any friends,” he grumbled as he stabbed at the food with his fork.
“What’s that s’posed to mean?!”
“We’re all different – would be pretty borin’ if we weren’t, wouldn’t it? So how’re you gonna make friends if you’re gonna hate anyone remotely different?!”
Tank didn’t answer, instead concentrating on his breakfast. Ripp read his brother’s silence as a small victory, but decided against holding his breath just yet.

The punch-bag suffered a fierce kick to its midriff. Youthful fists sank into the thick canvas coating of the bag, followed by another foot, a few more punches, and then a pause joined by short, sharp breaths.

Johnny Smith burned off not only his own meal, but also hatred, frustration, anger, mixed with unhappy undertones as he gazed at the unyielding sack before him. The scratches he’d sustained the day before stung a little, not much, but enough to remind him of the seemingly ongoing feud between the two families. Like father like son, he mused as he remembered his own father’s scuffle with Buzz. No, that wasn’t strictly true, he remembered quickly. What of Ripp, with whom he got on so well? Knowing of his background, mainly from the times Johnny had offered himself as a sounding board to the stricken youth, he felt so sorry for his friend. Buck seemed to be following him as opposed to Tank, and that concerned him very much. In itself, it was a wonderful thing that only Tank had inherited Buzz’s vicious streak, although it also meant another being in that house would suffer under their father’s stern rule.

Although none of his business, his compassionate nature stirred a sadness within him as he contemplated the situation. It did involve him a little, the scratches on his arms reminded him. As he glanced back at the bag, his energy replenished enough for another round, his eyes narrowed as he saw his adversary in its place.

A renewed frustration bubbled deep within as he eyed the lad’s hard expression. How anyone could be so hateful, merely through a difference in colour and race, was beyond his realm of reason, and he idly wondered sometimes if that would ever change.

He didn’t train alone, however; large, unearthly eyes watched from a distance as he continued to unleash his anger.

Johnny’s father, who had adopted the name Peter as he began his new life on earth, watched with great concern as the teenager pummelled the punch-bag so fiercely, he threatened to rip through the fabric. He knew the drive behind his swings, and sighed with a heavy heart as his mind drifted back to his unpleasant encounters with the bigoted General. He couldn’t understand how someone in command of so many people, whose job it was to trust them, could be so shallow. That was, until his imagination painted a picture of such a scene onto the canvas of his mind. Probably all white men, he mused with a wry smile.

He knew better than to assume all humans were so ignorant, however. One glance at his very human wife was enough to banish such thoughts from his mind. No, Buzz was the first he’d come across, but he was far from the last. Human nature reared its ugly head in many places; he was only thankful he’d found the few golden apples among those that were going rotten. They shone in the most unlikely of places too, not only in the form of Ripp and Buck, but also his son’s love Ophelia. Mind you, she suffered discrimination herself, and she was human. Why did this species hate each other so much?

Being the first to finish breakfast meant Ripp was the first to leave for school. He would often bolt down his food just to get away from the older members of his family, and leaving early gave him time to stroll dreamily along the dusty path, his body down Road To Nowhere and his mind down Memory Lane. So different was he to them, and so thankful in some ways for being that way. It meant that he was more open to making friends, although he chose his circle carefully. People like Johnny, with just as many problems blending in as he felt he had, made his life that bit more bearable.
“Hey, wait up!”
The childish voice pulled him from his musings, a flicker of a smile playing upon his lips as his younger brother trotted to his side.

“Hey,” he grinned in reply, “Come on then, let’s go wait for the bus.”
They waited in silence for a while, before Buck’s thoughtful mind brought a question to his lips.
“Why do you always look so sad?”
Ripp’s head sank into his chest, his eyes closed in the mounting grief he felt. Without demonising his other family members, there was only one way he could answer.
“I miss Mom,” he replied simply, “Talking on the phone’s cool I guess, but it’s not the same…”
“Why did she leave?” Buck asked, feeling saddened himself. She had gone when he was still a baby, so his memories were not as strong as those of the rest of the family.
“I don’t know,” came the evasive reply, but what he was tempted to say was, perhaps their father had driven her away with his militaristic attitude. Not to mention his apparent desire to fight with as many of Strangetown’s residents as humanly possible. Ripp often wondered what she ever saw in him, but knew better than to complain – if she hadn’t, neither him nor his brothers would have ever existed.

Johnny whistled to himself as he waited for his knocks to be answered, even breaking into air guitar solos once in a while as his whistles became sung words. He wasn’t the best of singers, but that didn’t bother him – his tool of choice was the guitar, and he wielded it well. A fond smile played upon his face as he remembered today would be practice day, where he and his friends would find a likely room to hone their musical skills. As a well-trained female voice sung along, he smiled as one such friend appeared at the door.

They sung together for a moment, before the manner of their greeting changed entirely.
“Morning honey,” he grinned as he hooked his arms around Ophelia’s waist.
“Morning,” she replied, snuggling close to him before their lips pressed softly against each other.

“How’re you?” he asked as they moved off to wait for the bus, their arms round each other as they chatted.
“I’m good thanks, you?” she replied, before her mirth faded. “How’re you doin’ after yesterday?”
“Ah, he just got a few scratches in, is all,” he dismissed at first, his mood dropping as he continued, “Physically, anyways…”
“Tank’s a jerk,” she sneered, “He ain’t worth beating yourself up over.”
“Yeah,” he snorted in reply, “So’s his Dad, an’ it’s rubbin’ off on ‘im. It ain’t just me sufferin’ for it either, that’s the worst bit about it all.”
“I know,” she acknowledged sadly, although as they waited an affectionate smile took hold of her lips. Every one of the Smiths was a good person, and she thought herself lucky to land a catch such as him. It was times like this she became even more thankful for a partner like him; a caring nature a mile wide, fuelled no doubt in part by his own troubles. She often wondered casually if it would be as prominent if he hadn’t, but knew better than to chew over that thought for long. The main thing was, although he easily defeated Tank in a fight thanks to his self-defence classes, he never fought unless he absolutely had to… unlike some, she mused bitterly.
“Hey, you know this festival coming up pretty soon?” she asked suddenly, pulling the subject onto a lighter path.
“Oh yeah,” came the reply, a grin spreading across his face in anticipation. “Was gonna ask about taking Ripp along…”
Ophelia paused, momentarily cocking her head. “Didn’t know aliens could read minds,” she hinted with a wink.
Johnny merely chuckled at the reference, reading the comment as it was intended. “I’ll take that as a yes then?” he replied.
“He’s gonna love it,” she agreed, “Might even find some romance up there!”
At first he chuckled at the suggestion, before pondering the possibility.
“Mm, maybe,” he shrugged, “It ain’t like he has the choice we do though, huh?”
“He’ll have more chance up there than he will down here.”
“That wouldn’t take much,” he scoffed in reply.
“Well, worth a shot I guess,” he decided, “Let’s just hope he don’t fancy goin’ too!”
“Is it even his thing?” she checked.
“Ripp ain’t the only one there into rock and metal,” Johnny reminded, “Only difference is, he chose to pursue it, while Tank’s happy just to listen.”
“Ah,” she nodded in acknowledgement, before chewing over the likelihood for a moment. “Damn…”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “Better start hopin’ either he ain’t goin’, or if he is, he’ll have better things to do than spy on his younger brother. Things are bad enough in that family as it is.”
« Last Edit: October 14, 2008, 10:02:12 am by Sadie79 » Logged

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Astral Faery

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« Reply #3 on: February 13, 2008, 11:11:11 pm »

Your pictures are so beautiful, Sadie.  I'm always stunned by your wonderful pictures, and it looks like you're just getting better.  Looks like that practice has paid off.  You have a sophisticated writing style, very rich descriptive language.  It will be interesting to see what happens next with these two families.

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Sam the T-man
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« Reply #4 on: February 13, 2008, 11:20:10 pm »

Aaaw, thanks so much! Cheesy I have a lot more written, even some of the pics are already taken, just need to get the extras, place needed lots, etc. Good lighting and the warming technique helps loads, but there's a knack with the latter Wink

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« Reply #5 on: February 14, 2008, 02:44:06 am »

woohoo another story. *dances happily*

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« Reply #6 on: February 14, 2008, 08:00:56 am »

Wow! Sadie, your pics look amazing and love the story already. The colors you used in the opening pic are wonderful. It really has me convinced it's early in the morning. Can't wait to see more.

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« Reply #7 on: February 14, 2008, 11:44:16 am »

Hooray! I've been reading all the other stories you've written and I love them all.  I like how you've made over the maxis sims, and you achieved your goal of making them more attractive whilst still keeping them recognisable. Anyway, I can't wait for more on this story! Spiffy.

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Sam the T-man
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« Reply #8 on: February 14, 2008, 11:57:41 am »

Thanks guys! Cheesy So wonderful to see such positive comments on my pictures, it's taken me ages to get the hang of them, let alone make them look good.

@Bloody_Tears: Glad you like what I did Smiley Tell you what really improved their looks though - the default skin/hair overrides! Amazing how much the right skins can change the look of a sim Smiley

Edited the first post with more credits, since I felt they deserved a mention. Especially the lighting tweaks, which I'd never made full use of before now. Thanks for your support guys Cheesy

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« Reply #9 on: February 14, 2008, 10:56:18 pm »

Its a really great story Sadie!I can't wait to read more Smiley

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« Reply #10 on: February 15, 2008, 04:58:06 pm »

HaHaHa Sadie, another great story Cheesy ow I always love ur stories xD. But that picture of Ophelia is a little creepy xD( don't mean to offend Wink )but I love the others! U can become a writing fotagropher ( hope I said it right Tongue, forgive me if I din't xD) Anyway, I'll keep gonna look back to this tread same as I do with ur other stories xD

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Sam the T-man
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« Reply #11 on: February 15, 2008, 06:09:37 pm »

Damn, all this from the first chapter!? Wow... here's hoping I don't disappoint further down the line Wink Thanks for all the support guys, it's very much appreciated Cheesy

@matt: Creepy? :oogle: Erm, that wasn't intentional, honest... :dontknow: Anyway, as I said in the first post, you may have quite a wait for the others, but feel free to check back here in... erm, quarter of an hour? Wink

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« Reply #12 on: February 15, 2008, 06:24:27 pm »


Life is like a walking cat ~ Nanami Feung Hanfanyo & Akihito Wan Kangino  (my mother & father)

In memory of my mother & father Nanami Feung Hanfanyo & Akihito Wan Kangino who both died May 9 1:37 AM *CRY SOD
Sam the T-man
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« Reply #13 on: February 15, 2008, 06:42:18 pm »

As the younger members of the family left for school, silence descended on the Grunt house, save for the tapping of the father’s shoes against the hard floor as his feet carried him out of the kitchen at a leisurely pace.

He ambled down the hallway as he drank in the peace and quiet, a fond smile playing upon his lips as their banter lingered in the air like a fading mist, although it slipped a little as he remembered the nature of their last words. Tank was almost a replica of him, which made him glow with pride, but Ripp was beginning to concern him. He was growing to be just like his mother, an ever-present reminder of what they had before she’d left him with the task of raising three children. He would never show it in front of them, but he still missed her, even now. The phrase “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone” was one he could relate to the most, closely followed by “You always hurt the ones you love”; guilt would tug at his heart almost as much as sadness, but the harsh upbringing he himself had experienced prevented him from dwelling on such events for too long. It also stemmed the tears before they had a chance to take hold, turning the pain into anger and hatred. He’d always thought of tears as a sign of weakness, and now, as he waited to be picked up for work, he bounded up the stairs as he felt the rising emotions inside threaten once more to prick at his eyes. He needed his mind to be clear for work, and so his own inner turmoil was unleashed, once more, in the only way he knew how.

At least the punch-bag can’t fight back, he mused, his mind drifting back to their talk at breakfast. He wondered how badly Johnny had hurt him the day before, considering he would often try to walk away. One thing he had never let slip about his hatred of aliens, however, was that in part it hid an underlying fear. Peter was now an old man, yet he had beaten him in a fight before now. Just what were these beings capable of?

With his wife and children gone for the day, the retired alien was now alone in the house. He took a moment to stroll along the carpeted floors, gazing fondly at the photos and smiling at the memories they generated. During his younger years he had experienced fatherhood in the only way he knew how, at least then, in the form of pollinating who turned out to be Jenny’s father. He had felt a void gnawing at him however, the yearning to have a normal family life and to be able to play an active role in raising his children. Now, having been lucky enough to be granted his wish, he felt not only content, but proud. Johnny had blossomed, and their youngest daughter Jill was showing promise too. In fact, Ripp had often commented at the irony that a family such as theirs should bond so well, while in a completely human household unhappiness and anger were rife.

Peter allowed the sadness at his words to pull the smile from his lips as he wandered to the “training room”, as they all called it, remembering that although he had tried to hide it, there was a distinctly envious tone to the youth’s voice as he spoke such thoughts. Peter’s amblings took him inside the room, and up to the punch-bag he’d seen his son grapple so fiercely with before. This he studied for a while, marvelling at the expertise he had displayed, and wondering who on Earth was able to teach him such moves. Even he didn’t know, which in itself was very peculiar indeed.

The sixteen year old, green skinned boy had just left school when the man had approached him. He felt intimidated by the very appearance of this stranger, clad from head to toe in loose-fitting clothing that even shrouded his features from view. What bothered him even more was the way in which he addressed him.
“Johnny Smith?”
Johnny’s head jerked sharply upwards to meet the masked face of the man, not hiding his alarm at being known by someone he had never before met.
“Yeeeaah… who are you?” came the cautious reply as the stranger reached him, “How do you know my name?”

Without answering the question, he reached into his pocket and produced a business card.
“I understand you have been having trouble with your school friends,” he observed.
Johnny’s gaze momentarily wavered as the bruises upon his face throbbed in reply, delivering a painful reminder of his skirmish earlier on in the day.
“Well spotted,” he grumbled.
“I can help you fight back,” he offered, holding the card out invitingly before him.
Johnny hesitantly reached to take the card from his fingers, his eyes scanning the print briefly before looking back at him.
“Self defence classes?” he checked hopefully.
“Specialist self defence classes,” the man elaborated, “Give me a call if you’re interested.”
With that he left, a bewildered Johnny gazing after him before once more studying the card.


“Hey, Johnny-boy!”
A sharp nudge jolted the seventeen year old from his reverie, and on looking about himself, as well as once more glancing out of the bus window, he realised they were pulling into the school grounds.
“Whoops!” he meekly remarked as everyone else began to gather their items, “Thanks.”
With more than one practice meeting awaiting him, he had good reason to drift. He often did when he knew he had a training session with his mystery tutor.

Another looking forward to rehearsal, Ripp was already getting into full swing before they’d even found a seat outside.
“Hey buddy!” Johnny greeted, heartily slapping his shoulder.
“Hey!” Ripp beamed in reply, pulling him into a warm embrace. On seeing Ophelia, he did the same with her as Johnny found them a spare bench.
“How’re you doin’?” she asked.
Ripp replied with but a curling of his lip.
“Same as always, huh?” she remarked, her tone softened.
“Mm,” he half-groaned as they sat down. “Dad and Tank are drivin’ me nuts.”
Ripp sighed bitterly in reply as he waved a dismissive hand.
A chance glance from Johnny’s seat saw his eyes lock briefly onto a familiar face, shrouded in part by camouflage colours. Nonetheless, his eyes narrowed as he quickly looked away, but Tank was quick to react, as always.
“Speak of the devil,” Ripp muttered softly as he approached, before gazing up at his brother’s stern features.

“Give it up Tank, we’re just waiting for the bell.”
Tank’s ears let the gentle breeze of his brother’s voice drift through the air, his attentions on Johnny as his brow furrowed into a scowl.
“I’ll get you,” he warned, “Once these have died down, I’ll get you back.”
“Whatever,” Johnny sneered, “You know what they say, the bigger they are…”
“What’s your problem?” Ophelia demanded, “Tryin’ to fix your dented ego or somethin’?”
“Good luck with that one,” Ripp taunted, “You ain’t gonna get him Tank, save it for that bag of yours.”
“Oh, you think so?!” he tested, glancing back at Johnny. “We’ll see.”
With that he spun on his heels and marched away. Ripp watched the smaller version of their father walk off with disgust, before turning back to his friends.
“Jerk,” he growled, “Would’ve thought he’d learned just from yesterday, but no…”
“He won’t learn,” Johnny observed disdainfully, “Guys like him never do.”

“Oh hey,” Ophelia piped up, again lightening the mood with a change of subject as she addressed Ripp, “You know this festival hittin’ the city over the weekend?”
“Oh yeah!” came the delighted reply, the mention of music aggravating his already itching drumming hands as they began to tap on the table. “Got my ticket, so lookin’ forward to getting outta the house for a few hours…”
“Well,” Johnny added, “If you need someone to go with, you’re more than welcome to come with us.”
He paused for a moment as his eyes flickered between the couple. “Wouldn’t I be treadin’ on your toes at all?” he checked.
“Ah, don’t be silly,” she dismissed, “You’re a friend, we’d love to have you with us.”
“That’d be awesome!” Ripp beamed, “Thanks guys!”
“No problem!” she grinned, “Might even be able to fix you up with someone…”
She had not intended to, but she had pulled the smile from his lips as he once more became morose.
“Yeah, right,” he muttered.
“You never know!” she coaxed with a smile, “Stranger things have happened…”
“One problem,” Ripp explained, “Guess who’s also got a ticket.”
At this the couple eyed each other with looks of knowing resignation.
“What did I tell ya?!” Johnny challenged her.
“Damn,” she relented, “Okay, that is a problem, just have to be more careful…”
Ripp snorted in frustration as he leaned back upon his seat, before quickly checking himself.
“Thanks for the thought though,” he told her with a glimmer of a smile.
“Still might happen,” she offered hopefully.
Ripp merely shrugged in reply, his jaw clamped firmly upon his tongue. As much as the attention would be nice, he secretly hoped to be spared any kind of romantic experience during the festival, not only because of the danger of being spotted by his brother, but also because his heart was preoccupied with somebody else. The forbidden fruit as it was known, that posed too much of a risk for him to pursue, yet he couldn’t banish the thoughts from his mind, no matter how wrong they were.
« Last Edit: October 14, 2008, 10:06:03 am by Sadie79 » Logged

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« Reply #14 on: February 17, 2008, 05:10:34 pm »

Most rocking Sadie! I'm so pleased you updated so soon. Although that being said, now I'm going to have to wait for more... Sad I love the way this is going. Johnny and Ophelia are very cute together. I always have Ophelia ditch the pair of them in my game, but I may have to experiment with the J/O relationship now! Anyway, looking forward to more. I love your storytelling.

"I am become Death, destroyer of worlds" Oppenheimer, taken from The Bhagavad Gita.
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