#pascalcuriousfh

[lallyinthesims]

Cassandra sits near the window, the light just strong enough to guide her work as the sewing machine hums steadily beneath her hands. The fabric, a simple white cotton, moves carefully through the needle as she crafts a small pinafore, her attention fixed in that thoughtful, precise way her mind has always worked. It is not merely clothing, but something made for a moment she knows is coming soon.

By afternoon, Little Esther – no longer quite so little – grows into childhood with a quiet transformation. Her features are unmistakeable; she is, in so many ways, a reflection of her mother. The same dark hair, the same thoughtful expression; and  yes, even the spectacles, already perched neatly upon her nose as though they had always belonged there.

“I have something for you,” Cassandra says, pulling out the pinafore. Esther receives it with wide-eyed delight, turning it in her hands before holding it up against herself. It fits just as it should.

“It’s beautiful,” she says excitedly. 

Later, dressed in her new pinafore, she retreats to her room. A small wooden horse on wheels clatters gently along the floor as she pulls it behind her, the sound echoing faintly through the house. Nearby, her younger sister Clara sits with a toy xylophone, though rather than striking its keys, she seems more interested in chewing thoughtfully on one of the sticks.

By early evening, Esther hears the familiar sound of footsteps outside and does not hesitate. She rushes from the house into the cold, breath catching in the air as she runs to meet Pascal returning from the printing house. 

“Papa!” she calls.

He barely has time to set down what he’s carrying before she reaches him, wrapping her arms around him in a quick, tight hug. Pascal smiles and returns the embrace without hesitation.

Inside, supper is served. Levinia, their housekeeper (though she does not have her own quarters and instead takes leave of the house come nightfall) has left behind a proper meal: roasted chicken, corn, and potatoes, all set out neatly upon the table. For the first time, Esther is invited to sit among the adults, a small but meaningful shift she takes very seriously. She sits a little straighter, speaks a little more carefully, and Cassandra watches her with quiet pride.

“We’ll be having company for Christmas Day,” Cassandra mentions during the meal, glancing toward Pascal. “My father and Alexander will be joining us.”

Pascal nods, thoughtful but agreeable, while Esther listens with growing interest.

“Might we invite my brothers and Camryn as well?” 

After supper, the girls return to Esther’s room. Now eager to try everything that feels just a bit more grown, Esther busies herself with a small train set, guiding it carefully while Clara sits nearby. But rather than joining in, Clara stares off into the distance, the xylophone stick still loosely in her hand, her attention caught by something only she seems to notice. Esther glances at her once, briefly, before returning to her game

[lallyinthesims]

Christmas Day dawns, the frost clinging thick to the windows, but inside there is nothing but warmth and motion. Levinia has been at work since before sunrise. She moves through the kitchen, sleeves rolled, tending to a meal fit for the occasion. The centerpiece, a rich cranberry roast beef, fills the house with a deep, savory sweetness, accompanied by roasted vegetables, fresh bread, and all the small comforts that mark a proper holiday table. She says little, as always, but her effort is unmistakable.

By midday, the house begins to fill. Mortimer arrives with Alexander at his side, both bundled against the cold. Not long after, Pascal Curious welcomes his own kin, both brothers and their small household, until the rooms are alive with conversation, footsteps, and the overlap of voices.

Near the hearth, Esther stands before the tree; a modest evergreen brought in from the woods, its branches strung with bits of ribbon and a few carefully placed candles. She stands very still, taking it in with quiet wonder, before at last turning her attention to the stocking hung just behind it.

Cassandra gives a gentle nod of permission, and Esther reaches inside, drawing out a sweet roll. Her face lights as she takes a small bite, savoring it as though it were the finest thing she had ever tasted.

When the time comes for presents, Mortimer steps forward with something hidden behind his back. He leans slightly as he offers it to Esther, his expression softer than usual.

“For your birthday...and for Christmas,” he says. Esther looks at it almost reverently.

In Mortimer's hands is a beautiful bisque doll; delicate and finely made, with painted features and a dress of its own. For a moment, Esther simply stares.

“Oh!” she breathes, clutching it gently but firmly to her chest. “She’s beautiful.”

Mortimer allows himself the smallest hint of a smile as he looks at his first grandchild, and the doll does not leave Esther’s hands for the rest of the afternoon.

Later, Esther approaches Clara, still small enough to sit among her toys without much concern for order. The wooden horse on wheels, worn from use, sits in Esther's hands.

“You can have this now,” she says, handing the toy carefully to her sister. “I have my doll.” Clara looks at it, then at Esther, before reaching out with small, eager hands.

Across the house, voices continue, laughter rising and falling, stomachs grumbling and anticipating Levinia’s careful work. Outside, winter holds firm, but inside, there is warmth enough for everyone.

[lallyinthesims]

Camryn’s new dress quickly fits as it was meant to, with the soft blue cotton let out carefully at the seams, curving gently over her growing belly. She sits near the hearth in the evenings, knitting needles clicking steadily while the fire sends gold across the room. A small pile of tiny garments gathers beside her; impossibly small socks, a cap no larger than Lazlo’s palm, a small receiving blanket.

Lazlo occupies the chair beside her with a book open but long forgotten. Every so often, he glances over the top of the pages at her; especially when she pauses to rest a hand when the baby shifts. Eventually he sets the book aside entirely and stands before her, his hand spread carefully over the curve of her belly. 

“Well now,” he murmurs softly, as though addressing someone already very capable of listening. “We’re quite looking forward to meeting you.” Camryn smiles down at him while he continues speaking in low, earnest tones and begins telling stories about the house, the town, and all the things waiting just beyond the hearthlight.

On Saturday Camryn stays home to rest while Lazlo meets Pascal near the wagons. Between them they’ve brought several jugs of vinegar, carefully corked and sealed, as well as heaps of wheat and flour. The vinegar will do well for cheese-making, so Peter Ottomas purchases a fair share on the spot. Not long after, Herb Oldie arranges to take vinegar and several sacks of flour back to the general store shelves. Pascal claps Lazlo on the shoulder afterward, pleased. 

That evening, while Camryn and Lazlo settle in for the night and Pascal returns to Cassandra and his girls, music spills into the cool air through the open windows of the barn dance. Vidcund arrives later than most, dust brushed from his coat. He steps up to and orders a drink from the bartender, accepting the cup with a nod before scanning the crowd.

He finds Florence Delarosa near the edge of the dance floor, lamplight catching in her hair, and she smiles when she sees him. Vidcund approaches with a composure that doesn’t quite mask his anticipation. He takes her hand carefully and, with deliberate old-world courtesy, presses a kiss to her knuckles. The gesture earns him a softened look and the faintest blush, before they booth join the others, turning and laughing beneath the rafters. 

Later, when the dance floor grows crowded and warm, they slip outside, where the night air is cooler and scented with hay and smoke. What begins as a stolen glance and simple conversation becomes something more, and behind the barn beneath a spill of starlight, they kiss without hurry. Finally, Florence smooths her skirts, and Vidcund adjusts his collar, both a little breathless and smiling. They agree quietly to meet the following evening at Florence’s schoolhouse after church.

[lallyinthesims]

Across town, in the Curious household, the evening begins as it often does; with too many thoughts and not quite enough chairs. Camryn is midway through supper when her fork dips, her eyelids flutter once, twice; and then she folds forward into sleep, forehead into her meat and potatoes. 

Pascal stops mid-sentence, while Vidcund stares and Lazlo is on his feet in an instant. They guide her carefully back in her chair, Lazlo brushing a crumb from her cheek with quiet fondness as Camryn startles.

And that's when it clicks for Camryn – the missed moon cycle, the extra naps, the sudden distaste for the smell of onions. Later, as she straightens up the kitchen after supper, not a moment too soon, she pops.  

The next morning, sunlight spills across the small kitchen table where Camryn sits with a slice of toast growing cold between her fingers. She tells Lazlo simply: she has missed her moon cycle, and she thinks she knows why. For a breath, he can only stare, and then his expression shifts into joy.  He reaches for her hands across the table, delighted to begin the next step of their adventure together. 

By afternoon, Camryn makes her way into town to visit the tailor. She moves more carefully now as she makes her way up the creaking wood stairs of the shop. Inside, bolts of fabric line the walls in orderly rows, and the tailor listens with a knowing nod when Camryn requests a dress with room to grow.

The tailor promises the dress will be let out carefully as needed, seams prepared for the time ahead. A soft navy and floral cotton is chosen; sturdy, breathable, and forgiving.

[lallyinthesims]

Morning begins gently, the quiet broken only by little Esther shifting in her cradle. Their housekeeper had prepared what was locally known as the, "Lumberjack Breakfast," that day, and Cassandra and Pascal speak little as the house warms around them. "Trading Post today?” Cassandra finally asks, still half asleep but learning to function before the sun fully rises. Pascal nods. “Lazlo’s bringing the grain.”

Pascal finds his brother unloading burlap sacks from the wagon, his face ruddy from the fields and full of the same newlywed cheer. The brothers exchange a brief hug and share stories of husband life. “Camryn keeps me fed better than the farm ever did,” Lazlo assures.

As the brothers cross the threshold to the interior of the trading post, they bump into Komei, the local gong-pit cleaner, who mutters, "You star-watchers will never know real labor," under his breath. Before his marriage to Cassandra, Pascal would have let the moment pass, but now he would not allow himself to be spoken to that way. "That was unnecessary." "So stay out of my way," Komei shoots back, before darting out the door of the trading post. "One day someone’s gonna throttle that man, and he’ll die not knowing why," Lazlo mumbles, and Pascal can't help but let out a chuckle.

That evening over dinner, Pascal mentions, almost reluctantly, the way he crossed paths with Komei. “I imagine he deserved whatever words you gave him,” Cassandra says with a knowing look. "His demeanor fits his profession," she grumbles, and Pascal chuckles heartedly, the day’s frustration loosening its grip with guaranteed support from his wife and brother.

[lallyinthesims]

Admittedly, child rearing was not a trait most of Freedom Hollow had anticipated to suit Cassandra and Pascal as well as it has. Barely steady enough for her first steps, Esther follows her father everywhere, babbling as he mumbles about daily articles if she understands every word. Everyone remarks how much she favors her maternal grandmother, a likeness that occasionally startles Cassandra when the afternoon light strikes Esther’s face just right.

Together, the four of them have settled into a rhythm of gentle chaos. It is not the life Cassandra once imagined, nor the solitude Pascal once assumed he’d keep, but it is home sweet home for all of them. Though sometimes, Pascal can't help but turn the slightest shade of green with envy if he catches Darren Dreamer's gaze lingering on Cassandra just a little too long.

[lallyinthesims]

Freedom Hollow Town Record Cassandra and Pascal Curious

Cassandra Curious née Goth was born to comfort, class, and expectation — three things in short supply around these parts. As Mayor Goth’s daughter, she’s long been the town’s picture of refinement: quiet, proper, and never seen without her spectacles. Folks once thought she’d make a proper husband of Doc Lothario, but the good doctor had other ideas.

Her mother's tragic disappearance struck just weeks before her ill-fated wedding, and the ordeal left Cassandra shaken. After a slew of failed suitors, Cassandra wed Pascal Curious, the eldest of a trio of eccentric wheat farmers who've sworn they’ve seen lights in their fields and heard voices in the night. He’s a quiet sort, more interested in the stars than in small talk, and to everyone’s surprise, he and Cassandra seem as happy as two people can be who spend their evenings discussing astronomy and proper table manners.

Though she keeps her composure (and her spectacles), Cassandra’s no longer the same woman who once waited at the altar. Still, whenever Doc Lothario rides by, she looks the other way — and Freedom Hollow pretends not to notice.

Pascal, the quietest and brightest of the Curious lot, surprised the whole town when he married Cassandra Goth. Many called it an odd match: a reserved socialite and a dreamer with starlight in his eyes and ink on his fingers from his days at the Freedom Hollow Gazette. Yet somehow it works, and Pascal swears she’s the best thing that ever landed in his orbit.

He still spends his nights seeking constellations and jotting theories by lanternlight, while Cassandra reads beside him, pretending not to listen. In the span of a few seasons they have welcomed two daughters, Esther and Clara; leaving the couple to balance stargazing and civility with the joys of tending to babes.