anchorofmysorrow

[anchorofmysorrow]

Eyes toward the Future

Life is so much better when you’re in love. 

Some days it was hard for Andrew to believe that things really were so wonderful. He and Clara, while inseparable before, hardly spent a waking hour without being near each other since that moonlit night 3 years ago. Sleepovers became more frequent, and though they were put to bed in their own bedrooms, oftentimes they woke up in the same one. His grandma continued to berate them for the impropriety, but his grandda smiled and shushed his wife. They were still young, after all.

As classes drew to a close before the Equinox Break and exams rolled out, Andrew felt less anxious than he had in previous years. He’d noticed that he concentrated better with Clara around, and so his grades improved and eased some of his worry. Everyone else seemed to notice as well, and Andrew began truly enjoy learning for the first time ever, excelling in literature, sciences, and history- just as his parents had. 

It seemed he wasn’t the only one experiencing bonuses from their deepened connection. Clara, Andrew noticed, had blossomed as soon as that uncertainty was cleared from her shoulders. She became more expressive, less docile, and overall more enthusiastic for life. Andrew couldn’t help but feel small pangs of jealousy any time someone noticed how extraordinary she really was- before, it was only he who saw these sides of her- but, he supposed, at least one of them should be involved with the local social circles and get to know their peers well. Gods knew he had no talent for the subtleties of social graces, but Clara took to it like a bird to flight.  

Uncle Edward and Aunt Marissa, in a vain attempt to create some space for individuality between them, charged Clara with organizing school events, the most recent of which being the Equinox function, something Andrew spent as little time as possible partaking in. The theme, they’d decided together, would be Suspended Beginnings, since they all loomed on that magical age of maturity. Flowers on the brink of bloom, re-constructed eggs made to look as if on the verge of hatching open, the sun peeking over the horizon, just about to break into dawn. The colors bold and beautiful, were a testament to both Clara’s heritage, and also how bright his life had become. 

Andrew’s birthday came three days before the Equinox, and Clara’s surprise party (with help from her parents and his grandparents) for him was equally as bright and beautiful. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” she’d said later as guests roamed the halls of his family home. “I just wanted to surprise you, since this is a big one.”

“13 is hardly a big one.” Andrew countered, though he couldn’t help but smile as his chest puffed out a little bit. He was the oldest of his classmates, and his party would set the bar for the rest of the year. Usually, this was something that horrified Andrew, but with Clara at his side, nothing seemed to get to him anymore.  

“Of course it is. 13 means we aren’t kids anymore.” She looked at Andrew straight in the eye, and he swallowed, nervous and excited by what he saw there. 

“Indeed you are not!” Clarke bellowed as he strode past. Andrew looked up at his grandda and smiled.“13 is a very important age. Finishing schools and preparatory schools need to be selected for next year, more societal involvement begins, and you start to develop your own interests. 13 is a very big age, it’s when you really get to start planning your future.” 

Andrew’s eyes snapped back to Clara’s bright blue ones, which gleamed deeply in the subdued light of the ballroom, and knew he was already looking at his future right in the eye.

Clara though that she must be wearing her friends down with talks about what her life would be like. She’d gone from secretive and hopeful to practically bragging in less than a month, and no one seemed to notice more than Isabell, who prior to this, had been the central point for social gossip. Now, Clara ‘s rising options dominated conversation amongst her female peers. Andrew, they said, was sure a tragically odd duck, but there was no doubt what kind of prestige the name Pointe could give to Clara. Plus, they said, someone having so much trauma at such a young age as Andrew had, deserved having happiness on the horizon, and Clara intended to make every moment of his life happy from here on out. 

The birthday party wasn’t all her idea. In fact, she’d overheard Lady Pointe and her mother speaking of it  and had injected her ideas into their boring old standards. An evening instead of an afternoon that way Andrew wouldn’t be obliged to spend too much time in a crowd of people, and if it was supposed to be his coming of age party, then an evening event was much more sophisticated. Her mother had agreed right away, but Lady Pointe had needed some convincing. Seeing it pulled off, however, Clara knew it was not in vain. 

Around 8pm, Andrew found her and swept her into the gardens. This had become their favorite spot in the past year, now that the church balcony was getting too small for their growing bodies. Stars twinkled in a navy sky as streaks of deep plum and fuschia lined the horizon. Soon, it would be completely dark. 

“Let me take your picture.” Andrew said as he led her towards the night blooming jasmine. Clara smiled. This place, where they’d shared a set of first (chaste) kisses 3 years ago, was one of her favorites. “I want to capture you in this light, before it’s too dark for the film to take.”

“Why didn’t we do this earlier?” She said, laughing. 

“Because, earlier I didn’t have this new camera.” He smiled slyly, and she smiled. A flash of light erupted, and Clara nearly fell off her bench. “Sorry, I’m not quite used to it.”

A few minutes and about 20 photos later, Andrew sat down beside her. She could hear the party beginning to wind down inside,and though she felt some obligation to see the guests out, she didn’t want to leave the garden.

“I hope you enjoyed tonight,” she said. “I know you don’t like these kinds of things, but I wanted to make sure you had fun.”

“It was surprisingly good, although there is one thing that would make it infinitely better.” Andrew said lightly. Clara looked into his eyes. She knew that tone, what was he hiding now?”

“And what’s that?”

“This.” Andrew leaned forward, then hesitated for a fraction of a moment just before his lips met hers. Then, he closed the gap between them, and it took everything she had to keep her head together. His lips were soft, his kiss uncertain and unpracticed. This made her smile, though not because she was in any way better, but because she knew he hadn’t tried it out on anyone else. 

He started to pull away, but Clara moved closer to him, smiling, and thought that nothing in the whole world could feel better, more right, than this did. 

[anchorofmysorrow]

The Night Garden

Moonflowers glowed in her hair under the full moon light, and Andrew realized here and now just how in love he really was. 

Clara had always been his friend first, and his crush second. Now, he realized she was simply his paramount, the pinnacle of all things good and gracious and stable in his life, and as she collected night-blooming jasmine in a basket, he was driven to kiss her. He took a step forward, then another, and another. She looked up at him, her striking blue eyes bright and luminous against the backdrop of her dark skin. 

He stopped. He shouldn’t, it wasn’t proper, she wasn’t prepared, he was clearly losing his mind. Is this what love did when one finally surrendered to it?

“Andrew? Is something wrong?” Clara straightened and tilted her head. He swallowed and shook his head. Damnit, he had to be the only 9 year old in the world with crippling nerves; all the other boys were so bold and outspoken, complimenting and doting on the girls they knew without a second thought. Why was it so easy for them?

“No, I just... you look so... peaceful... right now.” 

“Oh, well... thank you. Being here with you, in the walled gardens I know I am safe. I suppose that gives a degree of peace.” She smiled at him and set down her basket. “Is that all?”

“Umm,” Andrew began. she was moving closer to him now, and his brain was scrambling. Why was she smiling like that, with the look of a satisfied cat? “I just thought that you, here, now, were looking rather quite, umm.... well, and I think those flowers in your hair suit you.” Oh gods, he was rambling. She must think him a bumbling idiot, or maybe someone with a touch of fever. Yet, she kept approaching, her smile getting wider. Oh gods, what was happening? Why couldn’t he think?

“Well, thank you, Andrew Clarence Pointe. You look quite well in the moonlight also. In fact, you look quite well all... the time.” Clara took a final step towards him. Andrew was frozen with fear, anticipation, and disbelief. Clara went up on her toes, and placed an impossibly gentle kiss on his left cheek.

Oh gods, what had she done. She was giddy and excited, and more than a little scared. As she took a step back from Andrew, she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Luckily though, the color would be lost in the pigment of her skin. She glanced at Andrew, who was staring at her with his hand on his cheek where her lips had made contact. He was grinning like a fool, and she let out a nervous giggle, her skirts swooshing around her legs. 

“I hope... I mean, I didn’t want to be so direct, it’s just that you’ve been waffling since that day in the church balcony a month ago, and I just... wanted you to know it’s okay, if you... like me.” 

Andrew’s grin widened to a full smile, and her heart exploded. Thank the gods, he felt the same way she did. She’d been hopeful when she’d seen him give Isabell complete disregard at a school function three weeks ago, and more sure when Jacob Thierin had given her a rose and kissed her hand last week at a dance, and Andrew sulked for the rest of the night, muttering about Jacob and his family’s good looks. 

“i’ve always liked you Clara.” Andrew said seriously. “But, now, I think... I know it’s more than that. If that’s okay too?”

She blushed again, and nodded her head. It was Andrew’s turn to kiss her cheek, and she thought she might die of bliss right then and there. 

Up on a small balcony on the third floor, Asha and Clarke smiled down at the garden. Young love was absolutely wonderful, especially since the engagement had been arranged years before. 

“Do you think we should tell them?” Clarke asked as Asha leaned into him and pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“What for? They clearly don’t need the nudge. Let’s not make this awkward for them.” 

Clarke kissed his wife’s forehead and turned his eyes towards the sky. Maybe his family would be okay after all. 

(Song inspiration: Puppy Love, Donny Osmond)

[anchorofmysorrow]

The Lonely Children

Andrew hadn’t ever known his parents, however, he had pictures and trinkets, diaries, and the memories of others to fill his head with what they might have been like. His grandparents spoke of them often, never passing up the chance to remember their only son. Uncle Edward was the same, spending hours with Andrew’s Grandda reminiscing about days past over brandy or scotch. His Grandma and Aunt Marissa clucked and spoke softly while shaking their heads, as if Grandda and Uncle Edward were doing something wrong. Perhaps they thought the memories would conjure his parents. Perhaps, Andrew thought secretly, they weren’t really dead at all.

It was only Clara who he dared voice this thought to. She wouldn’t give him a condescending look, or worse, look at him with pity. She would instead ask where they were, and what adventures they must be on to be away all the time. were they out in space, travelling from star to star to see what they could find? Were they living with aliens, trying to spread the social culture of Newcrest with the life beyond our galaxy? Were they in the deepest oceans in a submarine made of coral and glass, far too used to the quiet life under the waves to return? Perhaps they had turned into merfolk, and couldn’t step foot onto land again.   

Clara. His friend, his quiet place, his peace of mind. He loved to watch her play the violin while he painted. He loved to listen to her read books to him while he trained the puppies his Grandda bred. But most of all, he loved sneaking away with her to their secret spot in his family’s chapel. A small balcony overlooking the inside of the church, largely unused since the once vast estate lands had been broken up for development 175 years ago. It was in such a place that Andrew drew the courage to ask Clara about something immensely important. 

“Clara, do you ever think about what life will be like when we are older?” 

She looked up from the sheet music she was filling in and tilted her head. “Sure, about as much as is expected. I heard Isabell Wilds thinking about whether Caleb Nightingale or Jacob Thierin would make a better husband one day. She’s got a crush on both and can’t decide.”

Andrew fidgeted. Though they were only 9, Andrew knew his peers’ parents often began poking about the future at this age, and he couldn’t help but notice that his grandparents hadn’t yet broached the topic. This worried him.

“What did you tell her?”

“I said for her, Caleb Nightingale would be a better fit. Just imagine what adorable children they’d have!” 

“And...” Andrew swallowed. His hands were sweaty, his pulse loud and quick in his ear. “What about for you?” 

Clara looked him dead in the eye. “I haven’t really thought about it. I mean, I already have you as a best friend, what good is a husband?”

Andrew nodded and looked away. Clara went back to her music, humming out bits of tune to check for flow.

Damn him and his cowardice.  

Clara couldn’t focus on her music now. Instead, she hummed the same broken bits over and over, hoping Andrew wouldn’t know. She could see he wanted something, and couldn’t help but feel she’d given the wrong answer to one of his questions. 

Maybe he liked Isabell. Oh Gods on high, please let it not be that. 

She’d lied when she said she didn’t think about it. Truth be told, she thought about it all the time. She thought about him all the time. He was the center of her universe, the sun around which her moon revolved. During their midnight astronomy lessons, she huddled close to Andrew and imagined them stargazing together when they were married. She imagined him teaching their children to paint while she gave music lessons. She imagined what their wedding inside this chapel would be like, how she’d like to decorate it. 

She saw only him in her future, and when the other girls giggled at how bizzare and anti-social Andrew was, Clara  smiled and paid no mind. She knew him, she knew his soul. He may be one of the loneliest children she’d ever met, but he’d never be alone. He’d always have her. 

“Andrew, do you know if your grandma’s got any honey cakes?” 

He smiled, and they got up together to race up to the art room. Clara’s knee-length dress was no hindrance, and yet she let Andrew win anyway. He gave her beaming grin devoid of superiority and waited for her before entering. 

The art room was, relatively speaking, small. There were two windows, one on the wall opposing the door, and the other on the wall to the left. Floor to ceiling cabinets flanked the window in front of them, full of art supplies and trinkets. The left wall held a canvas rack and a side table, both so full of paintings that extras sat on the floor. Spare canvas lay across the floor in paint-splattered, makeshift rug. To the right, a small desk and more paintings, though unfinished. The right wall boasted some of Uncle Micah’s artwork. 

Lady Pointe, graceful as always, swished her brush across the canvas on her easel with practiced ease. Her flourishing was mesmerizing. 

“Grandma,” Andrew began slowly so he didn’t startle her and ruin her work, “are there honey cakes in the kitchen yet?” 

“There should be, unless your grandda has snuck away with them all. The honey is just coming into season, and Kayla, the lovely dear, is always so prompt with making them at this time of year.”

“Would you mind if we packed some for a garden adventure?” Clara asked brightly.

“Not at all, though to be careful. The brambles haven’t been cut back yet. I believe Kayla is in the dining room.” 

Clara let Andrew lead her down to the main floor, where the dining room was. Kayla was indeed in there, dusting and fussing over the expensive, and rarely used, china. She took the request for honey cakes with a smile, and sauntered into the kitchen where she set several cakes in a kerchief. Kayle even packed in some strawberry jam as well. Handing the bundle off to Andrew, Clara enthusiastically led him out of the kitchen. The back door was just there, just a few feet from the kitchen door. yet, Andrew stopped short. Clara looked back, and saw him staring at the wall. 

A photo of his parents on their wedding day glared at Clara. It wasn’t that the photo was unpleasant- indeed it was quite lovely. Andrew’s mother was so beautiful in her lace wedding gown that Clara thought she’d never be able to outmatch the late lady Sophie. Andrew’s father, Micah, was devastatingly handsome in his tux and top hat. Clara noted that Andrew would grow up to look very much like his father, even though he favored his mother’s coloring. 

“Andrew..?” Clara began softly, but he shook his head. 

“What’s the date today?” 

“Umm... the 8th of April, I believe.” Clara responded quietly, and looked back at the picture. A brass plaque attached to the frame caught her eye then. She’d passed this photo countless times. She’d often admired it, even. And yet, that brass plaque hadn’t ever seemed significant until now. 

April 8, 1904.

Clara read the words and her heart sank. Today marked 10 years since their wedding. 10 years, and no one would celebrate it. No one would mark this occasion, perhaps no one even remembered it. But, as Clara looked to Andrew again, she knew he was. Today, what should have been a great celebration for his family, was merely another reminder that they were gone, and no one seemed to care anymore that they’d been here. 

“Andrew... let’s go to the garden.”

Andrew gave Clara the kerchief. “You go. I’m afraid the day has turned sour for me, and I won’t be such good company.”

She let him walk away from her, realizing then that though she would never let him feel alone, he held no similar reservations towards her. Whatever she may have wished for, whatever she desperately wanted in her dreams, Andrew was out of reach for her. 

She put the kerchief down on the kitchen table, then walked back home. Alone.

(Musical Inspiration: Nothing Else Matters, Metallica.)

[anchorofmysorrow]

Newcrest Genealogy.

It all started with the Fauxberry Family. As the founders of Newcrest in the feudal era, this prestigious family slowly, but effectively, built up the populace between their various branches over 10 generations. The farmlands surrounding the main estate were broken into various plots of land, and smaller estates popped up through the more established and capable family branches. Eventually, the Fauxberry Family died out, leaving in its wake the Pointes, the Sharpes, the Wilds,the Thierins, and the Nightingales.

While the Pointe family stayed relatively close knit, the Sharpes divided into two: The main Sharpe family, who carried on care and prestige associated with their name, and the Poole Family, who due to gambling and poor investment choices, could never quite live up to the prestige of their ancestry. The Nightingales also split further down the line, dividing into the secretive and reclusive Nightingale branch, and the social, if not eccentric, Clarel family. The Wilds and the Thierin families clung to old adages of pure breeding, and though it is said these families only married amongst themselves and the Pointes, evidence of many a torrid affair with the help, and resulting offspring, can be easily seen in their lineages. 

Lineage, however, plays a very small part in all of this, though family relations and intrigues are always important.

The Pointe Family.

Our (current) lineage started when Violet Clarel met Lawrence Pointe. Young and in love, the two eloped, much to the scandalization of both their families and Upper Society. However, they were too wealthy and well liked to be ostrasized for their actions. Lawrence had always been charismatic and kind, and Violet’s voice charmed anyone who heard it. When Lawrence’s father died, he became the head of the family, and so much more attractive to the ladies of Newcrest, despite his wedding band. Lawrence, however, remained faithful to Violet, gently and discreetly brushing off lurid suggestions made in conversation. For her part, Violet was coveted for her voice, for her beauty, but never for who she was. Offers of fame and fortune sailed her way without any real effort on her part, but being a family woman, and too smart to allow herself to be managed by anyone, Violet refused them all. Ten years into their marriage, Violet and Lawrence had their first child, Claire. No more than a year later, their second, Clarke, blessed their household. 

While Claire eventually married into an out-of-town, new money family, the St. Ives, Clarke, while in Finishing School, met the last remaining Fauxberry descendent, Asha. Asha was touchy about her family- they basically owned Newcrest, and yet had all but vanished. Many argued that Asha was an impostor, claiming the Fauxberry family had died out generations before. Others claimed they were nothing bust ghosts, solid enough to fool the townsfolk and lure them to their deaths in places forgotten in living memory. Clarke, however, saw her brilliant eye for color, her careful way of shading as to capture the light, and he couldn’t help but notice that, for someone who was supposed to be a ghost, she felt undeniably real when she kissed him. Clarke and Asha married shortly before graduation, thus ending her family’s name forever. 

Clarke and Asha wasted no time in producing an heir to the family fortune. Micah was born just after they came of age. Unfortunately, between establishing Clarke’s career as a politician while juggling his love of the written word, and Asha’s success in the Fine Arts, this couple had no extra time to spend expanding their family, and so their young son grew up side by side with Edward Sharpe, who conveniently lived just down the lane. 

As Micah grew up, and Edward veered off towards adventuring, he found comfort in the consistency of science. Astronomy, chemistry, biology... all so unique, all so fascinating. It was during his first years in University that he met Sophie Nightingale, who loved her art, loved her history, and loved her plants. Wooing Sophie was not easy, but Micah was tenacious and Sophie’s reclusive tendencies slowly expanded to include Micah within their borders. The two married shortly after graduation, and returned to Newcrest to establish themselves- Sophie in the museum as curator, and Micah as a doctor. 

On their first wedding anniversary, Sophie surprised Micah with some great news: He was going to be a father! While Clarke and Asha weren’t so forward as to outright say an heir was needed for their family, Micah and Sophie had felt the pressure since they were wed, both from Micah’s parents and his aged grandparents. Luckily, Sophie gave birth to a son, Andrew, in the spring, and the Pointe Family rejoiced at it’s good fortune. 

When Andrew was 3 years old, his parents left for Willow Creek, a historical town full of museums and geological displays. Micah and Sophie had planned to spend the time equally between the sights, and attempting to provide Andrew with a sibling. However, on their way home from Willow Creek, Micah had a heart attack, causing their car to drive into the river, drowning both himself and his wife. News wouldn’t reach Newcrest for a few days, and poor Andrew was left an orphan, to be raised by his aging grandparents. 

The Sharpe Family.

Victor Sharpe had always been an odd duck. His wife, Lucinda Straud, only accentuated his bizzare habits and proclivities. They’d met overseas on an expedition to study the nocturnal habits of bats in Forgotten Hollow- he, an avid bat enthusiast, and her, a local to the area protesting the senseless killing of the “beautiful sky-puppies”. For Victor, it was love at first sight- his future bride waving her arms and furiously screaming  and cursing at his own men, who carried guns to protect against the wolves, and bat bait.  For Lucinda, it distaste at first sight- her future groom standing and gawking at the men he’d brought with him instead of dredging up the decency to help her rein the bastards in before they shot the bats from the sky. Once the language barrier was transcended, Lucinda was more than hospitable- offering Victor and his entourage lodging within her family’s castle. 

When Victor’s expedition ended, Lucinda returned with him to Newcrest, and bore him a son, Edward, shortly thereafter. She found the sun in her new town disagreed with her complexion, however, and spent most of her time indoors, or otherwise completely covered up if she had to venture outside for long during the day, no matter how hot. Lucinda doesn’t believe in photographs, claiming they steal parts of one’s soul, and so unfortunately she and Victor were never photographed during their life together.

Now, Edward Sharpe can’t really explain how it is he came to (legally) inherit his family’s estate while his parents were likely still alive. Always overseas to study bats and other nocturnal life, they simply failed to return from an expedition, and he received nothing but a vague letter from his mother revealing his father had contracted a mysterious blood contaminant, and she couldn’t bear to return to Newcrest without him.  However, Edward didn’t mind. He and the butler, Elijah Morrow, had a close relationship. Plus, he had Micah. Micah’s parents were his second parents, and his home was Micah’s second home. The two grew up as if they were brothers, sharing secrets, sharing adventures, and sharing lovers. However, as they grew older, Micah’s love for secrets drew him into the sciences, where Edward knew he would almost certainly follow his parents’ footsteps; he simply had to see the world and all it offered. He wanted to explore every inch of it until he’d seen all the beauty in the world. 

Though he never ventured to his mother’s homeland, his travels took him to jungles and deserts, plains and forests. He climbed mountains and swam in oceans. And one day, deep in the hidden heart of the forest, Edward found the most beautiful thing the world had yet produced: a woman by the name of Marika Outanga. She was opposite to everything he was accustomed to, and Edward found himself inviting her to join him in his adventuring, and praying to all that was holy she’d say yes. 

She did, and three months later, she said yes again when they wed back in Newcrest. Marika changed her name to Marissa in a vain attempt to seem less exotic to the snobby and close-minded people her husband entertained in his social circles. Edward thought she was silly for doing it, but Marissa knew that in the pale world around her, anything could be seized upon and used against her and of her future children. Edward might not understand what the looks she received meant, but she did, and as the last of a long line of warriors, she was not going to give up without a fight- even if it was forced to be of a subtle nature. 

Clara Sharpe was born no more than 4 months after Andrew Pointe. Edward and Micah, still as close as ever, reveled in this new shared adventure. Fatherhood was by far the most intriguing thing they’d taken on. Sophie and Marissa were quickly becoming as close as their husbands, and it was a few years later with these ladies that the idea of an arranged marriage was conceived. You see, Marissa had had quite a difficult time conceiving, and despite the fact that she and Edward had been married nearly a third longer than Sophie and Micah, Clara was their only child. Marissa was loathe to see how long it might take for them to conceive again. Sophie, who had grown fond of Marissa’s fiery nature and unique outlook on life, adored the idea. When brought to their husbands, the men agreed without second thought, and a formal announcement went out announcing the arranged engagement between their children. 

It was only a few days later that Sophie and Micah left for Willow Creek, and one week after the plans were made, Edward received news that his longtime friend, his brother, was dead. 

Edward cried for days, completely unashamed of the depths of his anguish. Marissa fared only a little better, but their sweet Clara remained unaffected. Edward, determined to do right by his friend, went to the Pointe residence to take charge of little Andrew. However, Asha and Clarke were adamant they would not part with the last remaining piece of their son. So instead, Edward and Marissa spent as much time as they could with the Pointes, and Clara and Andrew grew up the very best of friends. 

The Poole Family.

David Poole had always known he was destined for great things. However, Fate seemed to disagree. One of many leftover children from a vastly expanded family tree, David longed for the prestige his distant cousins, the Sharpes, had. His mother, Julia, had been a Sharpe, sister to Victor, but with sensibilities instead of follies. Victor never had time for his sister or her family while he was off studying night creatures, and since he was never around, all that money simply sat and grew interest. Sure, his mother had her dowry and living allowance, but with six children and husband constantly switching careers, Julia Poole was far from living the life her upbringing should have afforded. Carson’s father, Keith Poole, was a savvy businessman who saw Julia and her allowance as a boon and asset to their family. Carson, however, was far too sweet and gentle to follow his father’s ruthless footsteps, and when he died, the family business fizzled out within a few years, torn apart by Carson’s older brother, Wayne, and his sister, Sherrie. 

All of this, however, only served to prouve to David that he deserved more, that he was owed more, and so when he met Mary, a hopeful socialite who was just as power hungry as he was, he saw an opportunity. Mary was one of the mistakes made by a gentleman of the Thierin clan. Her mother Georgia, a maid, had caught the eye of a young Terrance Thierin and had seduced the teen in hopes of marrying into the family. However, Terrance’s mother, Regina, had her fired and outcast instead. Now, Mary sought the ultimate revenge for her mother- and David had a plan. 

It wasn’t exactly love that based their young and rushed marriage, and despite rumors, it wasn’t pregnancy either, but a savage, thirsty ambition. After Carson died, Julia appealed to her nephew, Edward Sharpe, who graciously allowed her access to one of the family’s country homes. David and Mary moved in with her, and so a tentative relationship formed between Edward and David whenever the two men got together for semi-annually for Edward to inspect the house and make sure Julia was alright. Upon her death, however, Edward continued to allow the Pooles residence, and this foothold launched Mary into the lowest echelons of Upper Society. For David, career opportunities began to open and he started to make a name for himself in the world of politics.

Vanessa was born many years into David and Mary’s marriage at a time when both their ambitions had stalled. David was stuck as a city councellor, with the mayoral chair always falling to Alastair Thierin. Mary, for her part, was constantly being out-done by Marissa Sharpe for social events, despite the fact that none of Newcrest’s residents were really comfortable with Marissa’s exotic leanings. 

It had long been assumed Mary was simply barren, or that David was perhaps sterile, and so news of a Poole pregnancy shook society. Had Mary had an affair? It would be in her nature, considering her mother’s dubious ways. Perhaps she and David had simply grown to love each other. Perhaps their marriage wasn’t cold after all, and Mary’s odd blend of modesty and gaudy finery appealed to David’s imagination. The whisperings continued, and for her part, Mary generally didnt mind. Whisperings meant notoriety, which meant recognition.

David found a surprising joy in fatherhood- something he’d never thought to like due to his upbringing. He loved to watch Vanessa learn and grow, enjoyed teaching her about her world, and bringing her flowers and trinkets. 

Mary saw her daughter as a way to further elevate herself, though despite Vanessa’s flawlessly pale complexion and perfectly ladylike demeanor, Mary found her daughter frequently set aside in favor of other prospects for marriage. Vanessa was simply too plain, possessing no personality or mind of her own. 

Perhaps when she was older, things would change. After all, Mary thought, what a man truly wants in a wife is obedience and delicate fragility, and Vanessa was very good at that.

[anchorofmysorrow]

Hello everyone! I thought I’d introduce myself and my intentions before beginning this series.

My pseudonym is Ivy, I live in Alberta, Canada, and I love to create- so much so that I have dedicated a total of 20 months to creating two small human prototypes, though they aren’t finished yet. Creating good full-sized humans takes a long time.

When not busy with that project, I create art and write books, read tarot, practice astrology, and create worlds.

This story is a much more literal world creation than most, as I have finally stumbled upon a plotline that fits okay-ish within the Sims capabilities. That being said, this is still primarily a written story. I will add a few photos to every post, some more than others, but ultimately it isn’t meant to be super visual.

A lot of mods and custom content have been downloaded for this (though let’s face it, I only needed about ¼ of what I downloaded, it’s just so damned addictive once you start!) and unfortunately, I dont remember where I found it all, so I wont be posting sources since the photos are only being added to enhance the story’s setting and character development. Sorry. (If you recognize your work and would like the credit though, please message me with the link(s) to the item(s) and I will definitely post it/them.)

My next post will introduce the synopsis foe the story, as well as key families and their members: The Pointes, the Sharpes, and the Pooles, as well as the Fauxberry family, though they are not major players in this particular series of events.

#Sims4 #AnchorOfMySorrow #GoodGodsWhatHaveIStarted