Ted Roswell is the mayor of New Sixam, or so he says. In reality, he's a rich tycoon who sought to buy the land, and the Sixamians who were more or less pushed there during the First Contact era pushed back. Military involvement and tensions against humans led to a massacre of around 60 people. He gave a speech to the dead and bought the land soon after, but both Sixamian and human locals are uncomfortable with the swarming military, who they (and Ted) says are there to protect the Sixamians. He has been seeking to bring the town into the twenty-first century, only the townspeople question what good has actually been done since all their tax money went towards his state-of-the-art lab.
Meredith Roswell is the wife of Ted, and has not been happy with her husband for some time. He doesn't tell her anything about his business ventures and is snappy when asked about any of them. She will try to tell him to not do something because she thinks it is morally wrong, but he never listens, believing his investments into tech to be not in the best interests of the town. She otherwise just tries to keep her head down, but every woman has her point where she says 'enough is enough'...
Making their debut at Edgewave 2026, introducing Abominatrix!
This trio of demons has come straight from the depths of hell to rock out and go crazy all night long! They're here to share their heavy metal sound and won't stop until the whole festival is quaking.
Dulmaroth - vocals - creative and playful, they just wanna have fun and scream the house down
Cazzan - guitar - energetic and always ready to party, she brings an energy that will get everyone bouncing
Ozrin - drums - mysterious and chill, she enjoys her quiet time until she gets on stage and beats those drums so hard they'll make your heart pound
Edgewave hosted by @crazy-hazy-sims
(I'm always late to these things so lets hope the band makes it on stage by the end of the month)
For easier reading, please see transcript below the cut:
Dambele | Zanbira Marketplace
O: We should try to make this at home.
W: *mouth full* I’d rather leave it to the pros. *Obie laughs* There are a few paintings that caught my eye, that I’d like you to look at before we go.
O: Sure. There’s also a pair of chairs I think you’d like.
W: By the basket stall?
O: Yeah. You saw them?
W: Just in passing. But I’d love to take a look.
O: Maybe we should start a travel collection like the Kunals.
!! SABLE + THE UNDERTONES ARE COMING TO EDGEWAVE 2026 !!
After learning their lesson from last year's unfortunate scheduling conflict, Sable and her Undertones have cancelled ALL of their June 2026 appointments and are ready to finally step onto the stage of the biggest Festival in Music history! Grab your tickets online before they sell out to catch Sable +The Undertones LIVE at EDGEWAVE!
Sable Howl ☆ LEAD VOCALS/KEYTAR/HARP ☆ The fiery frontwoman of the band known for her deep, breathy vocals and her *no-nonsense attitude off-stage. Sable claims she is SELF-TAUGHT in piano and her ability to play the harp 'came to her rather naturally'. Sable is the bandmember that is the most intensely focused on ensuring that S+TU gains 'positive notoriety' amongst music fans and always pushes herself to ensure that both her and her girls never have to face failure in the music business EVER again.
*It's also important to note that Sable (Angelina Rawlins) is the estranged sister of The Placid Crows Member, Einar Rawlins, which can lead to a LOT of one-sided tension.
Isadora Virell ☆ BACKING VOCALS/LEAD GUITAR/VIOLIN/SYNTH ☆ Quite literally the multi-talented queen of the band who happens to be a wizard at playing almost any instrument she lays her hands on. Formerly a bodybuilder from Selvadorada, Isadora finds it easy to carry several instruments on her person at once and despite her visual impairment, she doesn't let it stop her from keeping a motherly eye on her crew!
Leah Morrigan ☆ BACKING VOCALS/BASSIST ☆ The extremely laidback bassist of the band most likely known for either her low-cut bangs or her rather risqué clothing choices whilst onstage. Leah has only been playing bass 'professionally' for the past four years and prior to becoming part of the band, she worked as a Barista in one of Willow Creeks' many coffee shops.
S0REN ☆ BACKING VOCALS/DRUMMER ☆ Soren is the band's drummer and they can be a little... Odd sometimes. No one is really quite sure what they are (not a lizard, not an alien but most certainly a friend) or where they came from but S0REN is cherished by their bandmates all the same. Their positive attitude and high-energy approach to literally everything makes them a near-perfect drummer!
Like I will be doing with The Placid Crows, this is just a short note for any Simmer planning to create any CC for this year's EDGEWAVE! (Line Up Posters/Poster Collections/Band bracelets/etc.) You have my complete and enthusiastic consent to include Sable + The Undertones! (If you want to) Anything I post for this Simblr Community Event, you can 100% use!
YOU DON'T HAVE TO ASK! IT'S 100% OK!
S+TU's current logos are below the cut to help get anyone started! ♡
@crazy-hazy-sims | @pulletsimblr | @pulletandraptor (Just in case you were waiting! ♡)
The door appears out of nowhere. One moment the damp, overgrown path sprawls infinitely in front of her, lined with moss-covered trees on either side. The next, the door is looming three yards ahead, cracked and worn, more gray than she remembers, but it’s him. She knows it instantly, feels it in the deepest parts of herself, in every cell, and the spaces between them.
She stops.
Stops moving.
Stops breathing.
Stops the breeze rustling through leaves.
Stops the birds singing overhead.
Stops the small creatures racing around in the brush.
Silence.
She stares at the door, a lump forming in her throat, and waits.
Then. Three knocks in quick succession, followed by two slow knocks. One low. One high.
A sharp inhale.
A sob catches in her chest, expands quickly, and explodes out of her in a strangled wail as she hurls herself forward, racing for the door. She crashes into it with a force that rattles her teeth, but she doesn’t stop. She pushes the door open and falls to her knees on the other side, gasping as if she’d just run an entire marathon in those few steps.
The gravel is rough and wet under her hands. She focuses on it, on the tiny rocks pressing into her palms, letting it ground her and slow her breath. Tears fall onto the backs of her hands. No, not tears. Raindrops. It’s raining. Thunder rumbles overhead.
She stands up slowly, taking in her surroundings. She’s on a familiar path. To her left, she knows the gravel path connects to a road that leads to town. To her right, there is a lake hidden behind the trees. Her childhood home sits in front of her, somehow both larger and smaller than she remembers. Everything is gray. Like the color has been sucked out. But not completely. The front door still has the faintest hint of red.
She takes a step toward the house. The rain falls harder. The static sound of it reminds her of the noise machine her mother would turn on in her room at night before tucking her in, pressing lips to her forehead, and whispering promises of sweet dreams about fairies in a mushroom forest. She closes her eyes, a single tear falling down her cheek as she tries to hold on to her whispers, letting them envelop her before they disappear into the trees.
Another step forward and the sharp scent of ozone overwhelms her, sparking memories of sitting on the porch, watching for lightning and counting the seconds until the crack of thunder. Her father sitting next to her and telling her that each second equals a mile. His presence and this knowledge making her feel safe.
Up ahead, there is a man watching her from that same porch. She approaches slowly, resisting the urge to run to him. To throw her arms around him. To hug him and punch him and scream at him and hug him again and never let go.
“Mikey?” she asks as she cautiously walks up the steps.
“B,” he breathes, the relief in his voice is palpable and it makes her chest tighten, “you’re alive?”
Keeping her head down, she makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and sob. If only it were that easy. “I think that depends on your definition of ‘alive’.”
Trembling, she allows herself to look up at him.
He’s so much older than the last time she saw him. He’s older even than their father was the last time they visited. The thought fills her with a familiar grief, knowing the likelihood that their parents are gone. That they died without ever knowing what happened to their daughter. She wants to ask, but fear makes her hesitate too long. Fear of what the answer may be. But also, fear of what he’s thinking now as he looks at her. He tilts his head, his eyes searching for hers. She knows he won’t find them. “Your face… Why can’t I see you?”
She turns away and sits in the empty chair next to him. She stares at her hands as if they hold the answers to his and all of life’s questions, but they give her nothing. “It’s been a long time,” is all she can say, hoping he’ll understand. When he doesn’t say anything, she knows he doesn’t. That he’s waiting for her to continue.
Seeing him now, with his gray hair and lines creasing his face, confirms what she already suspected. She’s been gone for longer than she ever lived. Decades longer. Time moves differently here, but still, she knew. Over the years, memories began to fade. They grew dark and blurry. She felt herself fading along with them.
Her voice cracks as she tells the ground beneath her feet, “I don’t… I don’t remember…” She breaks before she can finish, folds in two and sobs into her hands.
He reaches for her, tries to speak, but she holds up a hand to stop him. She doesn’t want him to comfort her. His attempt only sparking anger. He doesn’t get to comfort her. He abandoned her. That anger forms a ball of fire inside her that dries her tears and sucks the emotion from her voice, “Don’t.”
He recoils, and she sucks in a breath to steady herself and says, “In the beginning, I thought you’d come for me. I knew you would. Didn’t doubt it for a second. You’d hear what happened and you’d find me. But you didn’t. You never came. And after a while I began to think you were right. That maybe this part of us is evil. That maybe I have died, and I’m in hell. Destined to be wandering lost and alone like this for eternity.”
“B, I-,” he starts, but she shakes her head, silencing him.
“I met others like us,” she continues, and he gapes at her. “They’re just kids, but powerful. More than they know. The boy doesn’t like me. He’s afraid of my…,” she gestures to her face, or lack thereof, “but the girl, she’s been kind to me. Sometimes she helps me remember things. Like the way we were at their age. Innocent and playful and imaginative. Inseparable and bickering constantly.” She smiles to herself, holding on to the feeling before it fades to mist. “I’m able to Travel to them. Easily. They’re family, right? Sadie and Simon. Do you know them?”
She can’t decipher the expression on his face as he shakes his head.
“I’m glad to have met them. I was lost and alone for so long. I was slipping away, losing my mind. Myself. It was really scary,” her voice cracks. She takes in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself as she continues, “But then there was this little girl, tiny and giggling and running through the trees. I don’t think she knew where she was or what she’d done, but there she was all the same. I think she’s given me a bit of my humanity back. And hope too. Like, maybe one day, she can help me find my way home.” She looks over at him, at her Mikey, her twin brother, her best friend, and pleads, “But now you’re here. You can help me, right? You have to help me. Please.”
He hesitates, the corners of his mouth pulling down, taking the rest of him with them. His whole body sags like whatever weight he’s been carrying just became too much. “I want to. More than anything. But I don’t think I can. I’m not strong enough, B. That’s why I called out for you. I can’t Travel.”
She stares at him. A million questions clamoring to get out, stumbling over top of each other until one finally breaks free, “Why? Why can’t you Travel? Why didn’t you come sooner?!”
“I would have come sooner if I could. I swear to you. But my father-in-law, whatever he did, it worked. I stopped dreaming. For decades. But then…”
“Then what?”
“It was… One minute I was sitting down for dinner, and the next I was at the lake with my toes in the sand. It’d been so long, I didn’t even know it was a dream until it was over. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I couldn’t speak. The doctor said I’d had a stroke. I got to you as soon as I could, but it’s not the same. I’m not the same. And I’m not sure how much time I have left.”
She shakes her head. Keeps shaking it. Willing what he’s saying not to be true. “No,” she cries, the anger building again, churning hot in her abdomen. How could he? She wishes he hadn’t shown up at all. All he did was bring false hope and force her to grieve the loss of him all over again. It’s cruel. Her rage grows hotter, boiling now like the surface of the sun, flaring through her veins and escaping through her fingertips in cracks and sparks.
She stands, begins pacing the length of the porch, but refuses to look at him, “No. No no no no no.” The air vibrates around her as she looks out at the road where she was on her hands and knees only moments before. A bolt of lightning strikes with a deafening roar that shakes the foundation of the house and rattles the windows.
“B! Stop!”
When she looks back at him, his eyes are pleading, “I may not be able to help you find your way home, but I think there is something else I can help you with.”
She stares at him. Part of her wants to aim the next lightning strike directly at him. Another part of her is curious. What could he possibly have to offer her if he can’t help her find her way back?
“Sit back down, please,” he gestures toward the vacated chair.
Reluctantly, she sits. She pulls in a breath. As she does, the smell of petrichor flows through her, dowsing the fire and nearly putting it out entirely. She knows he’s doing it on purpose, and she lets him. Lets the wave of calm wash over her.
She’s missed him so much.
“Better?” he asks.
She nods. Then, turns to him, “So, what is it you think you can help me with?”
He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a photograph, and hands it to her. “I can help you remember.”
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