Bloodhound -- Before Deluca (heh)
“You’re not going to keep shuffling cases off for the next few months, are you?” She asked when she caught up.
At his desk, chuckling still, he took a stack of blank papers from a drawer and looked at his pen, “no, I’m not. I’ll be available again starting tomorrow. But as you’re not qualified to join me on any requiring travel, and my new feeding habits will keep me longer, you’ll be with Brena, or the AF team, even Leandro if you’d like.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad,” she said as she hopped onto the desk with a new question, “but, babbo...if you’re not taking cases until tomorrow, and you already sent those letters you wrote for papa,” he was smiling too wide and she leaned to disrupt his view of the pen, “what are you writing now?”
“A story,” he told her.
Oriana tapped her father’s nose, earning his eyes and grin, “what kind of story?”
“One about me and papa,” he said before setting his pen down and pulling her onto his lap, “I managed to get you to love someone you’ve never met through stories of who he is, who I was, and how we were together.”
“You want someone else to love papa?” The question earned more laughter.
But he answered, “in a way, flower, yes. I’ve sent the papers to plead his release to the Council, and Pelagios’ letters may assure it works...but in case it doesn’t, I thought appealing to the rest of the world might force their hand. If other monsters, especially, could see how he was treated perhaps they’d stand up and argue on his behalf.”
“Liar,” she popped, tapping his nose again. Raised brows fought back and she explained, “it’s not a whole lie, but it’s most of one.”
“Such nuance you smell,” he teased with his own tap of her nose, “I may also want to apologize to him, for how I’ve lived without him.”
“Va bene,” she announced, giggling as her voice earned a wince, “let’s write a story about papa. What’re you going to call it?”
“Not sure,” and he wasn’t, a title was the last thing on his mind when he’d made the decision—he hadn’t even considered how to publish it, but he’d figure it out.
Tapping his nose again, Oriana grinned, “all those stories were before me, right?”
Nodding, he added to it, “before me, even. I had a different name then.”
“Well, what about Before Oriana,” she stretched her hands out with the words, earning laughter through his pen scratches—so fast they were, with him already writing—and she looked at the page. Pages, there was a small stack beside him in the moments it took her to speak, “can I read it?”
And he stopped to move the pages to the other side of the desk, covering the one he wrote on, “absolutely not, there are some things you do not need to know about your fathers.”
“Why is it in English?” she asked of the sentence she caught.
Scoffing, he went back to writing, “for reach, flower. I’ll be sure all our beautiful words make it in, but most will be English. Simple as it is, most know it...and he and I did keep to it often enough.”
“Can I help then, if I can’t read it,” she asked the page she leaned to peek at, huffing when he moved it. “It needs a name, if you want anyone else to read it. So let me help name it.”
He continued writing, stopping again to block her eyes, “you already have.”
“It’s going to be called Before Oriana?” she perked.
“No,” smiling for her drooping arms, he took the chance to write more, “I think I’ll call it Before Deluca.”
“That’s so boring,” she told the ceiling, arms still drooped, and as he laughed she hopped down and rushed to check the finished pages.
Blocked again, as they were moved into a drawer, “if it’s so boring, why are you trying to read it?”
She stuck her tongue out, “I’m going to go call Brena, and tell her all about this book you won’t let your only daughter read.”
“You do that,” he laughed. But hunger gnawed, if dully, and with nothing to stave in the fridge and no desire to leave his flower so long so soon, he called after her, “and maybe see if Pelagios is busy tonight?”
“I’m not being mediator for a booty call, babbo,” she snipped from the stairs.
Taking him entirely by surprise for words and assumption, leaving him to sputter before settling on a dismissive, “come se mi importasse.”
Her laughter faded into her room, leaving the haunting melody of his beloved’s violin still playing from the sitting room. It, and a soft but sudden rainfall outside the wide windows of his office, provided a delightful soundtrack as he wrote.
While telling his pen, they will understand if they know, my love. If they see why we did what we did. All of them will, and I will give each and every one a chance to see you, to know you...to love you as I do.
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Fun fact!
The first sims family (sims 3) i ever played was a young married couple ocs of mine. in their story, they were the parents of my Main Character OC and both died while MC OC was very young. So i made them in the sims, gave them a house, and let them live the life they never got in my story. (i cried when they died of old age some time later)
They had 4 kids, a boy and three girls.
(I played this family for 5 generations and still have a written out family tree from it. I can't remember why i stopped playing that save, it might have been lost on an old xbox or something.)
ANYWAYS!
New fun fact!
I recently remade this couple in sims 4 for nostalgia. I gave them a run down little farm house and let them go. (He's a teacher and she became a spy lol)
now here's the funny part.
They also have 4 kids. a boy and 3 girls. In the same order they had in the first save.
I did not plan this. the only manipulating i did was insure the second was a girl through strawberries (i needed one to name after the MC OC). They just so happened to have the same children in the same order (just with different names b/c i didn't look up the other 3 kids names until just now and i'm not changing that.)
so apparently this couple is just destined to have 4 kids had they had the chance. (i should probably rework their story a bit though. Since that would mean my MC OC has an older brother out there somewhere lol)
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