anothersimlishtragedy

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Please enjoy this ridiculous little fever dream. I hyperfixated on this bad boy from last night until finishing it about 30 minutes ago. I go into more detail on how I create the voices and the background behind my passion project if you want to read it, it'll be under the cut.

🔔 🔉 📯 🔊 🔕 📣The video does have audio as it is the whole point of the project, so please turn the sound on if you're interested for the full experience! 🔔 🔉 📯 🔊 🔕 📣 **TW: Thunder/Lighting; Mild Language; Alcohol; Emotional Distress

Length: 04:53; Credits to: Prelinger Archive; Maxis/The Sims and the awesome creators from the gallery that I used for my sim models that I will have to go back and double check for ;/

So now, without further ado, SoutherFriedPixel Studios in association with Plumbob Pictures proudly Presents:

There's a wonderful video out there about the myths and misconceptions, one of those being that actresses and actors were taught to speak this way and that it was purely an accent for showbiz only. Katherine Hepburn is a great example.

Anyway, full disclosure here that the only way I could have made these voices for my characters was via text to speech models through an app online, I scoured the Prelinger Archives online for audio clips and videos to get ideas as well as the on-the-nose descriptions like, "30s female with husky voice, femme fatale, film noir, mysterious, heavy Transatlantic accent." There were some big flops and some big wins in my opinion, which ultimately led me to doing this little project which had been a brainchild of mine for about 3 months now.

My heart is so happy after listening to hours and hours of both real and emulated classic hollywood sounding voices.

[anothersimlishtragedy]

[anothersimlishtragedy]

"Alexa, play Pure/Honey by Beyonce"

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Melt.

reshade by @intramoon

@atelierlena @simnora thanks for your awesome cc creations as always

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Part 5 - Death and Taxes

Keller and his crew rode up to the house the next spring. Turns out, Magnolia's darling ghost of a husband had borrowed money to build this ranch and Keller was one of them before he disappeared. It was time to pay up or get out. No one had heard that the former man of the house had gone off and got himself killed, and Jamie looked enough like his older brother to assure the whiskey addled stuffed shirt that Gordon Keller was that they'd make good on the payments. They just needed some more time.

Summer, Keller had crooned, casting an uncomfortably long assessing gaze at Magnolia. If they didn't have the money come end of summer, he was going to appraise the ranch and take what he wanted. She knew enough about his face and those steely eyes that he was talking about her.

Jamie told Keller he'd have his money. The two men rode off toward Appaloosa Township and Jamie planned their escape.

[anothersimlishtragedy]

What do you do when you're in the middle of a good story but then you hit the valley and the manic streak ends? Well, pictures are worth a thousand words right?

Part 4 - Delayed Salutations

He expected Magnolia to barge into the room at the sight of the pink sky the next morning. Instead, she'd asked him to mend the fence at the horse barn before he left. When he was done, she asked him to muck the stall while he was at it, handing him a steaming bowl of stew. Then he may as well fix the leak at the water pump because it was leaving a constant puddle and standing water brought flies and skeeters.

Without noticing, they fell into a familiar pattern.

She'd wake, hand him his coffee, they'd eat their breakfast in silence and then tend to the animals. He'd shuffle in at lunch and hang his dusty hat on the back of the chair in the kitchen and nurse down another cup of coffee along with fresh vegetables from the garden or the game he'd hunted.

And then, the fall came. The wind had a sharpness to it and the nights grew cold. It only made sense then, that one night sitting in front of the fire with her knitting in her lap, she dozed and drifted into his side.

Sometimes love arrives with a clanging bell, startling and loud. But sometimes it's as gentle as falling asleep on a shoulder.

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Part 3 - The Stranger and the Ghost

"Well, I guess I'll be off then."

Magnolia looked up from her task of sweeping the kitchen and took a second to compose herself at the sight of Jamie wearing her late husband's clothes. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat and fiddled with the broom handle , staring down at her shoes in solemnity.

"I'd like to thank you for taking care of this here." Jamie motioned towards his side.

"You were bleeding on my floor. Weren't nothin."

He chuckled, which caused her to start. "I'm sorry - I'm not laughing at your expense. I'm just thinking about how many times I thought about sullying your pretty bedspread last night laying on top of it with my filthy clothes and boots. I am real sorry about it."

They could both sense each other's discomfort and uncertainty. Magnolia was tired of pretending she wasn't happy about the situation and was the first the break the silence.

"I know you prolly wanna know about your brother, and you deserve to, truly you do. But I ain't got nothing I can tell you 'cept what I already did, which is he's dead."

Jamie started to speak but Magnolia continued.

"I know how hard it is, losin' a loved one. So you'll be forgivin me then iffn' I come off harsh or uncaring in some way."

They both stood there in silence for a few seconds as the stove crackled.

"I didn't know my brother all that well, Mrs. Brannon. I'm certainly sad to hear of his passing, but truth be told, I'm not all that surprised given his reputation."

Magnolia looked up from the floor at him.

"And what reputation would that be?"

Jamie shifted, the pain in his side waking up now as well.

"I'm afraid it wouldn't be too gentlemanlike of me to discuss in front of the gentler sex, ma'am." he hid his gaze from under the brim of his hat to avoid the flush that he expected to see on her freckled cheeks and the warm pink that had flooded his own.

Instead, she let out throaty laugh that shocked him entirely.

"Well, you're just a proper socialite, ain't ya?"

Jamie frowned in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Magnolia approached him and he swallowed hard at the sight of her angular nose and steely green eyes flash, so close in front of him.

"There ain't nothin gentle about me, and I'll tell you right now, ain't nothin you can tell me that I ain't heard or seen before. I shovel shit with my bare hands," she paused to hold up her calloused palms and shake them slightly towards him, "and I've had to keep this farm runnin' on my lonesome without no help from nobody. Naw, there ain't nothing gentle about the female sex, Mr. Brannon. Least not me there ain't."

She turned to twist the cap off a mason jar filled with clear liquid and took a deep pull, then twisted it back on. The smell of moonshine wafted between them and he almost laughed out loud.

She wasn't a delicate flower; she was poison ivy, ready to spread a nasty red rash of sarcasm and no-nonsense on the ass of anyone that rubbed her wrong.

"All right." Jamie said.

"He's got a bad reputation back home of brawling, philandering, and most recently before he took off to these parts, stole some money from some pretty dangerous people." When he finished speaking, he studied her body language for any signs of disbelief or shock.

"He tom-catted around up here, in Appaloosa Township. He didn' t think I knew it but, hell, I ain't an idiot. He'd saddle up and ride into town then show up two days later with a wad of cash in his pants smellin like piss and whore."

Magnolia took one last swig from the mason jar then twisted the cap and wiped her face with the sleeve of her work dress.

"I bet you're wonderin' why I married the sorry sucker in the first place, huh?"

Jamie paused, then shook his head yes.

"I'm still askin' myself that question."

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Part 2 - The Ghost and the Stranger

Everything hurt like hell.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but the room was dim, save for the orange flickers of an oil lamp.

Jamie was suddenly aware of the fact that he was still in his coat and boots, covered in blood and dirt and sweat, lying on top of a crisp bedspread. He started to pull himself upright but quickly fell back when his side began burn. That's right - he'd been shot. Funny thing to forget, he thought, gingerly moving his legs to situate himself on the mattress to prevent soiling it any more than he already had. This bedcover would be ruined.

Damn, the wound ached and throbbed. He could feel his pulse inside of the small entry point above his hip that was now bandaged to prevent any more blood loss. The edges of his memory began to crystallize and he began to recount the past few hours.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sound outside the door. Footsteps, sturdy and quick, trailed away for a moment and then returned. There was a clang of metal against metal, the stirring of a fire, crackling and popping with the arrival of a new log.

He stared up at the wood slats of the ceiling for a few seconds and listened to the shuffled steps and soft clank of silverware on the other side of the planked wall. The steps approached.

The door opened slowly with a faint creak and the amber light from the lamp illuminated a woman in the doorframe.

"You woke up." Her voice was raspy and low, almost hoarse.

He started to respond but she moved across the room before he had a chance, holding a wooden bucket. Water sloshed into the wash basin as she filled it up and she turned to set the bucket back on the scarred pine floor. Jamie attempted to move his head to see her standing at the foot of the bed, a pair of men's trousers draped over her forearm.

His brother's clothes.

"You're gonna have to keep that bullet wound clean. I did about as good as I could with it but if you don't wanna die anytime soon you better wash it out ever few hours or so." She rifled through the top drawer of the dresser for a shirt.

"He was bigger'n you, but it'll do." She was folding the faded fabric when Jamie propped himself up on one of his arms, wincing.

"Where's he at?"

Jamie's question seemed to be ignored at first, silence hanging in the air like a plume of smoke. When she finished folding the shirt, she tossed it on top of a chair in the corner and gave him a look he couldn't quite identify.

"He's dead."

With that, the woman crossed the room and stood in the doorway once more, turning to look back at him. Her eyes glittered in the flickering lamplight.

"Your horse is fed and in the stall. You need to leave by sun-up."

She closed the door behind her and he was alone again.

A sharp pain twisted inside of him, but it wasn't from the gunshot wound. He'd been riding for days to get here and now his fears were confirmed.

Jamie eased onto his back and started to take a deep breath in when his side flared up again. He hissed and blew out the breath with slow deliberation. He studied the ceiling again, searching the patterns in the pine for an answer. Any minute now, he was going to wake up and realize this was just his brain cooking itself from high temperatures like some kind of fever dream.

But the slow, warm trickle from under the bandage on his side and the sickly sweet smell of copper and sweat proved his theory wrong. He wanted to scream but he didn't have the strength. In fact, his head was dizzy from the small attempt he'd made earlier to sit up.

Jamie felt heavy all of the sudden, like the earth was pulling him down, holding him to the bed like a prisoner. soon his eyes fluttered shut and he was pulled under the warm, inky depths of unconscious sleep.

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Excuse me, sir

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Part 1 - The Ghost and the Stranger

With a bar of soap in one hand and a pair of trousers in the other, Magnolia sank her hands into the hot water and begin to scrub and lather the material against the textured tin of the wash board.

She plunged and scrubbed the thin cotton chemise she'd been given on her wedding day by her mother. Next was a pair of Hollis' wool socks that had so much sweat and dirt on them they could nearly stand on their own. She grimaced and chucked it into the tub.

The whinny of a horse caught her attention from the front of the house. She stood and quickly wiped her hands on the skirts of her dress, then grabbed her pistol and started around the house.

"State your name!" she shouted to the stranger from behind the mesquite tree, her pistol in hand and finger on the trigger.

"Howdy, Ms. Brannon." the stranger called out from on top of his horse. She had to squint against the afternoon sun to make out the face of a man.

She cocked the pistol and a familiar metallic click sounded as the bullet entered the chamber.

"I said state your name or I'll blow your head clean off your shoulders, mister!"

"Woh, I don't mean no harm....I- I was just looking for the man of the house."

Through the leaves of the tree, she saw him shift in the saddle and grimace, like there was something about him that was hurt. She wasn't risking moving closer to him but something made her step aside from the leaves to get a good look at his face.

"He aint' here." Magnolia said through grit teeth.

The stranger shifted again and his horse whinnied, antsy and frustrated that they were standing still.

"I apologize, ma'am. This is the Brannon homestead, ain't it?"

"You sure got a lot of questions for someone who's got a gun pointed at 'em" she snarled. " I'm going to give you to the count of 3..."

"Name's Brannon. Hollis Brannon, ma'am." the stranger sputtered.

It made sense at that moment. The jawline, the vacant hazel eyes.

"You- you're, Jake's brother?" she manage to breathe out, chest tight and squeezing with every second that passed. She felt violently ill in that moment.

"Yep, his kid brother. Ya see, I was coming to ta-." he reached down towards the revolver on his hip and she fired a shot into the bramble to his left in defense.

"Shit!"

The horse bucked at the sound of gunfire and knocked the man onto the dirt with a thud, then took off like lightning down the road that trailed down to the river nearby.

She closed the distance between them fast. And then there he was, hat in the dirt, looking just like her late husband did 10 years ago. He clutched his right side where his shirt was plastered to his skin, wet and shiny with blood.

"I didn't aim for you." Her brow furrowed.

"Got shot on the road to Brindleton Bay." he winced, trying to sit up, then flopped back onto the dust with a thud.

"Aren't you a popular feller?"

She studied him for a moment, a ghost of her past come back to haunt her in the form of her late husband's brother. After a quick assessment, she knew he'd be too weak to try anything stupid, and she looped his arm around her neck to help him stand.

"My horse." he croaked, lips dry from days riding under the sun.

"He'll be aight. There's a river just down there. I'll go find him in a second. We need to get you on the porch."

"I don't want to impose..." he groaned between heavy steps and arms sagging against her shoulders and neck.

"It's a little late for that, now, isn't it?"

[anothersimlishtragedy]

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Watch till the end!

two weeks from her due date, this has to be a false alarm, right? chris is still running around like a lunatic though.

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Yeeeeeeeeehawwwww!

Happy horse pack release day, darlings! 🐎

Well, despite the runaround I gave you all, I may have known for quite a while that we were going West. More specifically, I knew that we were going to the American Southwest to make Antoine’s cowboy dreams come true and weather the storms of the 1930s.

So whatever anyone says I will forever and always believe this pack was released at exactly this time for Antoine and all of our Darlingtons. We’ve still got a couple of posts left of the 1920s next week but for now, please have this snippet of the yeehaw Antoine days to come.

(In another moment of serendipity, I actually took this screenie a while back to test @moon-simmers marvelous new upcoming collection that I cannot wait to use on our 1930s gentlemen. So my many thanks to you Matt! 😘)

[anothersimlishtragedy]

i got so excited, in fact, that i posted under the wrong blog. whatever, still happy. 

got my coffee, took my meds, signed off work, downloading horse pack and ready to make my history dreams come true

Thanks to @cowplant-snacks awesome townie tutorials for MCC, history save file by @antiquatedplumbobs​, i’m telling my hubby and kids that mommy is “working late” tonight and hyperfixating in true ADHD fashion until I can’t hold my eyes open anymore. 

@aheathen-conceivably​ @heartblobs​ um, are y’all as excited as I am about being able to gather grass and the new grills and all the WEATHERED thnigs?! my history bffs lol 

[anothersimlishtragedy]

Yeaaaaaah love it

80’s edition

[anothersimlishtragedy]

I love when people take the time and legit go through my little stories. It gets me so soft and tender 😭😭 This was just a little space to be creative when I didn't have a whole lot of wiggleroom for that during a really depressed part of my life and I'd always lurked outside the simblr community but never had one till last year and honestly, the people I've met and made connections and friendships with have just been so incredible to my mental health. I have a problem with isolating really bad so when I get positive mutual interaction with people, it helps me SO MUCH and reminds me to not lock myself away from everything.

[anothersimlishtragedy]