Treason and Plot's Sims

Aussie female, writer, and Simmer. WCIF friendly. My ongoing passion project is a contemporary Sims 3 story that roams between Bridgeport, Isla Paradiso and Appaloosa Plains. Please be advised that I am a mature adult, and this blog contains adult themes. Sister Blog: Sims FAQ simsfaq.tumblr.com/ My Blogger (18+) treasonplot.blogspot.com/

[treason-and-plot]

Twenty minutes later....

Roy: I had no idea your mind was so twisted. I'm seriously impressed. But are you sure it's foolproof?

Mia: Oh my God, literally nothing can go wrong, Roy. These guys are professionals. Of course it's foolproof.

Roy: I hope so. Because I can't go to jail. I'm too pretty. How much money are we talking? Not that money's a problem, it just might take me a few hours to get my hands on enough cash...

Mia: Hard to say. You never know, they might just be happy to do it for fun. And because, like, it's something that's kind of morally necessary, you know what I mean?

Roy: Morally necessary? Exactly what kind of sick fucks are you involved with, Mia?

[treason-and-plot]

Mia toys with her straw for another few moments. The sophisticated surroundings are tempting her to misbehave, to loudly blow bubbles into her glass like a bored child. She suppresses a giggle at the thought of blowing the contents of her straw into Roy’s smarmy, expectant face. Roy would probably go back to Bridgeport and tell Joël that she blew him. Ha ha.

“Let me guess,” she says, thoughtfully tapping her fingernails on her chin. “You want me to hook up with Tobitha, or her brother, or even better both of them, to get inside their room to try and find out where the camera is. And while I’m at it maybe steal Tobitha’s phone or laptop or wherever else she might have stored copies of the videos. Am I right?”

“Great minds think alike,” says Roy, his smile now a full-blown smirk.

“Yeah, nah,” says Mia.

“Shit, Mia! Why not?”

“Despite what everyone seems to think, I’m not some sex-crazed ho who fucks anyone and everyone. Also, I only really like dick.”

“But Joël told me you finger-banged his boss Monica,” says Roy.

“Bro, I was drunk as a skunk. And the next time I saw her I told her I’d made a mistake and I was sorry for giving her the wrong impression. Not that it’s any of your business-“

“Joël kind of made it my business at the time. He was gutted.”

“God, Joël is such a hypocrite! It wasn’t as if we were exclusive! And he was fucking Anita at the same time!”

“Not in front of you at your workplace, though.”

“Are you seriously taking the high ground with me, Roy? Someone who spends more on hookers than Raj’s fiancée spends on Botox and anal bleaching?”

“Sex workers, not hookers. And I don’t do that anymore,” says Roy.  He lowers his voice. “Not since meeting Anya. And it’s something that she doesn’t need to know about, so…”

“Whatever, Roy. I don’t really care. The point is, I’m not going to get my slut on with Tobitha. Or her brother. So we’ll just have to go with Plan B.”

“Okay, fine-wait. We have a Plan B?” says Roy.

[treason-and-plot]

Looks like you might have a drinking problem, Roy...

[treason-and-plot]

Half an hour later Mia is standing opposite Roy in the hushed and elegant surroundings of the hotel bar, trying not to feel self-conscious in her singlet top and jeans and trainers. Roy took the liberty of ordering her a cocktail before she had even arrived, and it is purple and fizzy and tastes like a lavender bush mated with a bunch of purple grapes.

“What do you think?” Roy says. “Pretty decadent, huh? The bartender said it’s their most popular concoction. ”

“It’s okay,” says Mia, screwing her nose up. “I’m not really a huge drinker. Especially at this time of the morning.”

“Do you want something to eat instead?” says Roy.

“No, I’m fine. I just want to hear all the goss! Can we sit down over here?”

“Okay,” says Roy. She gasps when he tells her about Tobi’s despicable behaviour, and shakes her head in disgust when he mentions that she might have incriminating videos of Anya.

“What a bitch,” she says. “Poor Anya. Are you going to go to the police?’

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” says Roy. “We don’t have any proof of anything, after all. And it would be humiliating for Anya to have to make a statement…”

“I suppose so,” says Mia, twirling the straw around her glass.

Roy flashes her his warmest and most winsome smile.

“I was hoping that you could help us out , actually,” he says.

[treason-and-plot]

@windermeresimblr's wonderful comment yesterday made me think a lot about what Pablo and Sofia would be wearing to church, mostly because I was worried about them being the subject of withering death-stares if they were dressed inappropriately, so I organised a quick photoshoot. I was very lucky to find Sofia's dress at PattSimsBlog, it was exactly what I had in mind. Pablo's suit is by @simtanico and can be found here. Phew! Crisis averted!

[treason-and-plot]

Roy leaves Anya sleeping in his room and takes the elevator to the hotel bar. It's deserted at this time of the morning, as he was hoping. There's bar snacks available and he orders a selection of cheeses, which comes served on a platter accompanied by a chunk of fresh bread, as well as olives, figs, and some scattered walnuts. It is the most delicious and satisfying meal he has eaten in days. After he has finished he calls Joël, but Joël doesn't pick up. Roy leaves him an affectionate, expletive-littered voicemail and then calls Mia.

"Hey, Roy," she says. "Is everything okay?"

"Way better than okay," he says. He pauses for dramatic effect. "I think Anya and I are back together."

"WHAT?" she gasps. "Oh my God! That's fantastic! But what happened to the throuple? Gimme all the deets!"

"I don't really want to discuss the whole sordid saga over the phone. Where are you?" says Roy.

"I'm just about to buy a ticket to a movie," says Mia. "I got woken up early because Sofia wanted me to go to church with her and her Dad but I had to respectfully decline because dude, seriously? Can you imagine? Like my soul isn't already owned by the devil? Also I had absolutely nothing suitable to wear. Anyway Mum and Rennie were up early too because they'd planned some lovey-dovey picnic somewhere so I was at a bit of a loose end. Then I remembered walking past this cinema the other day so I came down here again after breakfast and I haven't seen any of the movies they've got advertised which is kind of exciting. I'm tossing up between this werewolf one and this other one that looks like it's supposed to be romance because the poster's got a picture of a hot couple on it except there's also pterodactyls in the background and a picture of a sheep who looks like he's holding some nunchucks? Which is super confusing but also I kind of want to see that one just to try and work out what the poster's trying to say-"

"But isn't the whole thing going to be in French?" says Roy.

Mia considers for a few moments.

"I guess," she says.

"I didn't know you were fluent in French."

"I'm not."

Roy feels a light, neurological pressure above his right eye.

"Okay, I'm too emotionally and spiritually exhausted to have this conversation. Besides, that movie sounds dumb as dogshit, whatever language it's in. Do you want to jump in a taxi and come and meet me in the bar of my hotel? I really need to talk to you."

"You just got back with your ex. Do you really want her knowing that you're meeting sexy blondes in bars?"

"She's asleep. But I want you to meet her, anyway. And you're an old friend. I'm not hiding anything. Besides, you have no boobs. Everyone knows I'm a boob man. There's no way she'd see you as a sexual threat."

"You know, it's a complete mystery why Anya left you," says Mia. "Like you're just soooo sweet and kind and charming."

[treason-and-plot]

Sorry for being MIA...I've been battling the flu and bronchitis. I'm tentatively hoping to be be able to post a story update in the next 24 hours, fingers crossed. Hope all my lovely mutuals are safe and well and happy. I love youse all!

[treason-and-plot]

17 minutes later...

Roy sits on the couch in his room while Anya showers, his fist pressed to his mouth. His thoughts ricochet off each other as if his brain is a fireworks factory that has just succumbed to an explosion. Anya is back. Anya is naked a few metres away, her boobs slippery with soap bubbles. A psychotic bitch named Tobitha has incriminating videos of Anya. Anya just vomited. Something has happened to Anya's sense of smell. Sonia's favourite perfume has always been Chanel no.5 but for some weird reason she couldn't tolerate it when she was pregnant with the triplets. The scent of it actually made her vomit. What might Anya's boobs look like pregnant? Sonia's boobs never returned to their pre-pregnancy size and it was frigging awesome. What kind of stuff is Anya doing in those videos, anyway? Is she doing stuff with Tobitha? Tobitha is kind of hot, but the psycho ones always are. Is Anya going to leave him for another woman like Sonia did? Wait. Are he and Anya actually back together?

He hears the bathroom door open and jumps up. Anya gives him a watery smile. She is disappointedly fully dressed in a brown tracksuit.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks her.

"A little bit better," she says. "I think I have some type of bug. Do you mind if I lie down for a while? I feel really tired."

"Of course I don't mind. But can we just talk for a moment about the way you reacted to my cologne? Because I remembered that when Sonia was p-"

"Roy, I don't want to talk about your ex-wife. I just want to lie down. My legs feel really shaky."

"Yeah, sure," says Roy. She lies down with a sigh, holding her stomach. Roy sits down on the bed next to her, still not trusting his eyes.

"What?" she says. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I just can't believe you're really here," he says. "I love you so much, baby."

"Silly Roy," she murmurs, closing her eyes.

[treason-and-plot]

Previous

“I didn’t mean it. I came to my senses a few seconds later. I can prove it. Here.” Roy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out her passport. “See? The reason I came down the stairs looking for you was to give you your passport. I’d never destroy anything of yours, baby. I don't know why I said that. It was a moment of madness. Here. Take it."

Anya looks in his eyes and wills herself to believe him. She takes her passport and Roy asks again if he can have a hug. This time she nods. He pulls her close and she feels fleetingly safe and normal before her stomach turns inside out and a hot, tingly sensation begins to crawl along her skin.

"Roy, oh my God," she says. "Are you wearing new cologne? Because it smells awful. Ewww."

"What? No, it's the Chanel one that you really love," says Roy. "I put it on especially because I know it's your favourite-"

"My favourite? That smells nothing like my favourite. It's horrible," says Anya. "Oh, God. I think I'm going to be sick."

[treason-and-plot]

So I just discovered today after more than fifteen years of playing this game that Sims can sit on the edge of fountains...

[treason-and-plot]

“He doesn’t have herpes,” says Anya. “Tobi just made that up to be a bitch.”

“The girl that was just here is Tobi?” says Roy. “That’s a weird name for a girl. What’s it short for? Tobitha?”

“Roy, this isn’t the time to be making jokes,” says Anya. “Tobi’s crazy. She might have been making it up about the herpes, but I think she’s telling the truth about having videos of Jules and me. She's capable of anything.”

“Which one’s Jules?” says Roy.

“The one who had the seizure,” says Anya. “And Tobi doesn’t have videos of me and Jules doing things together, if that’s what you’re asking. I never did anything with Jules.”

“So who does she have videos of you with?” says Roy.

“What the fuck does it matter?” says Anya in despair. She and Roy look at each other. Her throat is feeling swollen again. “She’s threatening to ruin Jules’ life, and she could do the same thing to me and you. She knows where I go to college. She knows who you are. She could leak pictures to the media. This is bad, Roy.”

“It’s okay, I know people,” says Roy. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“It is?” says Anya.

“I promise you, baby. Hug?”

But Anya shakes her head. Roy’s heart spasms and sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

“Roy, I have so many confusing feelings right now. I don’t know what’s going on. The way you treated me was horrible. Everybody in this entire town is horrible and is trying to blackmail me or some shit-“

“Okay, I admit my behaviour towards you was horrible. But I’m not horrible. And I’d never try to blackmail you!” says Roy.

“Oh my God, Roy! You threatened to cut up my passport if I went to the police. How is that not blackmail?"

[treason-and-plot]

Tobi gives Roy a single sneering glance then turns to face Anya again.

“I guess I know now who you were ringing, at least,” she says. “Dumb bitch. Whatever. But I have no clue about any of the other stuff. Seizures? Drink spiking? Are you crazy or what?”

“Anya?” says Roy.

Anya looks between them, her throat thick with encroaching tears. Seeing Roy in such close proximity, unshaven, his face dark with shadows, seeing the mournful love for her in his eyes, the unfamiliar vulnerability in his expression…her tears threaten to spill and she takes a long, shaky breath. His transgressions now seem so minor compared to Tobi’s depravity.

“She’s evil, Roy,” Anya says. “She’s actually the devil. I found out that she caused someone to have a seizure at a nightclub last night because she spiked their drink! She needs to be locked up!”

“Oh, puh-lease! Bitch, shut up! This is all crazy talk!” says Tobi.

“You have proof she did this, baby?” Roy says to Anya. “Because if so, we need to go straight to the police-“

“She has no fucking proof. Because it’s all bullshit,” says Tobi.

“You told me when you got home this morning that you’d decided to teach Jules and Cas a lesson,” says Anya. “And then next thing I know, Cas is ringing from the ER saying that someone spiked their drinks and that Jules had a fucking seizure.”

“I told Jules that my brother had herpes, that’s all,” says Tobi. “Because they were both annoying the crap out of me. This is the first I’ve heard about any of this. What do you mean, Cas rang from the ER? What hospital are they in? Why didn’t you tell me this before? THE FUCK, ANYA?”

She screams the last sentence, and it feels as if everyone in the foyer has now stopped what they were doing and is staring at them. Tobi starts sobbing and runs towards her room. Roy and Anya look at each other.

“Sooooo…..the brother with herpes…” says Roy. "Was he part of the throuple?"

[treason-and-plot]

“I have videos of you,” says Tobi. Her demeanour is now sweet and sunny, a saccharine smile painted on her face.  “You and Jules. There’s a camera set up in my room. There’s a camera in the lounge area too. You know, I’m seriously thinking of sending a copy to Jules’ boss. He works for a well-known politician, did you know that? A famous politician needs to protect his reputation, he can’t let it get out that one of his staffers is a dick-sucking ho.” Tobi giggles and steps closer to Anya, who feels like she has been frozen to the spot, every part of her body numb. Tobi continues gleefully: ”Like the first night we met him, when you were passed out, I got strapped up and then me and Cas Eiffel Towered him. It was wild. You should see for yourself. You want to come back to the room and watch with me?”

Anya stares at her, eyes cold with loathing. “So you're not content with spiking his drink and causing him to have a seizure, you have to ruin his life for him too? What kind of evil, twisted-“

"Anya?" says a voice from the stairs, and Anya looks up to see Roy. He too stares at Tobi, his mouth agape. "What the actual fuck did I just hear?"

[treason-and-plot]

“I didn’t lie to you,” says Anya. ”I’m going back home to Bridgeport after I have breakfast. Anyway, how is it any of your business? I don’t owe you anything-“

Tobi’s smoky green eyes bulge with indignation.

“You ungrateful slut!” she says. “After all we did for you!”

“Excuse me? Who the hell are you to call me a slut? And what did you do for me, exactly?” Anya says. “Apart from use me for your perverted sex games?”

"Fuck off. You weren't used!" says Tobi. "You were totally into it! And are you forgetting how we saved you from that abusive arsehole? If it wasn't for me and Cas, your holiday would have been completely ruined! You wouldn't even have made it to the concert! How dare you say you don't owe us anything! Of all the fucking nerve. You owe us big time, bitch."

Anya feels her blood starting to simmer, her face flushing with anger. But it's anger at herself more than anger towards Tobi. She can't believe she let herself be seduced by someone so ugly and depraved.

"I owe you nothing, Tobi," she says. "Go away. Leave me alone."

"I'm not going anywhere," says Tobi. "And neither are you."

"You're a nutcase," says Anya. "I already told you-"

"I have videos of you," says Tobi.

"What?" says Anya. Now her blood feels like it has turned to ice, every part of her body numb with horror. "You....you have w-what?"

[treason-and-plot]

Anya takes a deep breath and counts to ten while she paces the length of the foyer. The sun has now risen and there's an increasing number of people milling around. As much as she would like to scream obscenities at Roy, it would probably not be wise to create a scene. There is complete quiet on the other end of the phone, and she imagines him gloating, thinking he has the upper hand. Several more seconds pass, tension swelling in the silence.

"Roy, listen," Anya says finally. "What about we start this entire conversation again. I'm sorry I told you to shut up, okay? That was uncalled for. But I really, really need my-"

"Anya! Oh My God! There you are!" says Tobi, bounding across the marble tiles towards her. Anya quickly terminates her call with Roy and turns towards Tobi with a carefully contrived expression of doe-eyed nonchalance.

"Oh, hey," she says. "Did you sleep well?"

"No. I woke up all alone," pouts Tobi. "It was awful. All your stuff was gone. I was scared you'd abandoned me. What are you doing?"

"Just...going to breakfast," says Anya. "I didn't want to wake you-"

"Who were you talking to on the phone?"

"Nobody," says Anya. Tobi looks around, her gaze landing on Anya's bags and suitcases.

"I knew it! You ARE abandoning me! Why did you lie to me?"

[treason-and-plot]

This or That — Tropes Edition!

Thank you for the tag @dandylion240! This was a lot of fun. I'd like to tag @windermeresimblr @pixeldistractions @nectar-cellar @spladoum and @echoweaver.

Slow burn or love at first sight?

This is a tough choice because I enjoy both but I would probably lean towards love at first sight, and it’s not the same as lust at first sight. (Although that is also fun!)  Love at first sight is eyes meeting across a crowded room, the concept of time standing still, the feeling of an instant bond, even an unsettling sense of déjà vu. A character is so strongly drawn to another that they begin to wonder if they have known them in a past life, because it feels as if their souls have just reunited or that they have found their lost half. And there’s often an undercurrent of impending doom as well, which is just as irresistible as the actual swooning romance of it all.

Fake dating or secret dating?

Secret relationship. I love the angst of having to hide a relationship from the world, the tip-toeing around, the near-misses... just the illicit deliciousness of it all!

Enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers?

Enemies to lovers. Just more potential for danger and excitement.

Hurt/comfort or amnesia?

Hurt/ comfort. There’s not much about amnesia that I find compelling. It just seems too contrived and cliched as a plot device, as well as unrealistic. (@gaiahypothesims' Jonah is the exception that proves the rule)

Fantasy AU or modern AU?

Modern.

Mutual pining or domestic bliss?

Mutual pining. And unrequited pining. Just pining in general!

Smut or fluff?

Smut. Apart from the fact that I love reading smut, it’s also challenging and ultimately very rewarding to write a good smut scene.

Reincarnation or character death?

I don’t dabble in anything fantastical or magical, so I’d have to choose character death.

One-shot or multi-chapter?

Multi-chapter. Decades long chapters!

Kid fic or road trip fic?

Neither appeal to me, but if push comes to shove I’d choose road trip.

Arranged marriage or accidental marriage?

I had to Google this because I wasn’t really across the accidental marriage trope, and I’m still a bit confused about how it could happen, at least within the framework of my contemporary, pseudo-realistic storylines. I think quite a lot of disbelief would have to be suspended for it to work. So for that reason I choose arranged marriage. 

High school romance or middle-age romance?

Another tough one! But I think if faced with a choice, high school romance. The y just have the potential to be messier, more complicated, and more emotionally fraught, and choices often have more damning and unforeseen consequences.  

Time travel or isolated together?

Not into fantasy, so isolated together.

Neighbours or roommates?

Roommates- love the forced intimacy, the potential for drunken mishaps, love triangles, orgies…

Sci-fi AU or magic AU?

Neither.

Body swap or genderbent?

Nope, nope, nope.

Angst or crack?

Angst.

Apocalyptic or mundane? I like apocalyptic from a psychological POV. How people deal with such scenarios, the sacrifices they make, the lengths they're prepared to go to in order to survive, etc.

[treason-and-plot]

Roy: Hey, my beautiful baby. I gotta say, you've made me the happiest man alive. Just when I was losing all hope of ever hearing your sweet voice again-

Anya: Roy, just shut up and listen. I'm flying back to Bridgeport today and I need my passport. It's in the safe in your room. I'm in the hotel foyer. I need you to bring it out to me. I'll be waiting near the reception desk. Okay?

Roy: W-what? What do you mean?

Anya: Are you still asleep? Do I need to repeat myself?

Roy: I heard you. But...I don't think I can do that.

Anya: What are you talking about?

Roy: I don't know the combination.

Anya: It's ----.

Roy: Still can't do it.

Anya: Why?

Roy: Just can't.

Anya: Roy, if you don't bring me my fucking passport I swear to God I will go to the police and have you charged with theft-

Roy: Then I'll cut your passport into tiny little pieces the second they knock on the door.