Shimmernoise

okay yeah, Moonfall takes more time than Valley

I had never pegged Marigold as being into unicorns on velvet under blacklight. But maybe this is what she thought people expected when they came to the wagon to have their fortune told.

Maybe I should dye my hair pink. Maybe I should buy velvet unicorn paintings. Maybe I should do acid.

Maybe I should stop making waffles.

That would not be what Seth expected.

I don't even caaaaarreee!

There are some magazines and a few pens on a table to the right. I assume they’re for people to entertain themselves with if there is a line. Although wouldn’t the magazines be hard to read under the blacklight?

I think that maybe I should pick one up, take a pen, sit in the chair over by the unicorn painting. Draw some flaming waffles and a tipped over refrigerator with a wall clock stuffed inside it and also beetles marching everywhere, through the clock and over the waffles and into the fire, and they burn and burn and burn, and then a unicorn emerges from the burning beetle bodies, neighing defiance to the fire and the waffles and the clock, and a double rainbow emerges from the pile of smoking beetle bodies and the unicorn prances up it, her mane blowing in the wind, and the rainbow takes her all the way up to the bare fluorescent bulb hanging above the kitchen sink, and she touches it with her horn and it begins to pulse, white and red and black, and the beetle bodies glow wetly in the strobing light.

Maybe Marigold pumps acid fumes through the vents.

*snickers a lot and flops around in her computer chair, laughing and snickering and snorting to herself*

I stand in front of the door to the main room of the wagon, and I don’t know if I can open it.

I remember the diner. I remember the feel of the hamburger meat, red and raw under my fingers. I remember the hiss of a box of fries just put down into the grease, the waitstaff barking orders, the slippery feeling of my hands after taking the gloves off at the end of my shift. I remember Marigold training me, teaching me the flow of the kitchen. I remember her listening to me go on and on about Seth. I remember her sharing in my triumph when I finally got up the nerve to ask him out on a date and he said yes.

I remember.

I think about my kitchen now, sharp with fluorescent light, silent except for the hum of the refrigerator.  I think about the waffles, perfect in their regulated squares, syrup filling all their empty spaces.

I remember Marigold sobbing, breaking down. Saying that she could see the future. Telling me, with red-rimmed eyes, that I had to leave Seth. I remember her screams when I refused.

My god, this is just like the fourth pic and we're already at 454 words

It takes me a few minutes. I stand there, my hand on my chest, and I try to take deep breaths and get my heartbeat under control. When I am as calm as I’m going to get, I push open the door and walk in.

I have been thinking a lot lately. No surprise there, lol!

“Sarah. You’re looking thin.”

She’s not surprised. But then she can see the future.

The brightly colored bottles on the table behind her, the books and rolls of parchment on the floor; these things remind me of the magic shop. Although here, the yellow wallpaper is lighter and relieved by blue.

Her wings make that sort of shimmery sound as they flap, the comforting background shimmernoise of so many late night shifts at the diner, and suddenly I want to hug her and cry into her shoulder and just listen to her wings.

She was the first fairy I’d ever seen.

Get it? Get the yellow wallpaper? I hope you get the yellow wallpaper. If not, google it and read the story. :)

She looks at me. Her eyes are not red-rimmed now.

“Come to have your fortune told?”

I don't even know what I'm doing

My legs feel shaky from the draining adrenaline. I am here, she has spoken to me, she has not screamed or cried or thrown me out. It’s okay. I am okay. I think.

I want to cry. I want to look at her with red-rimmed eyes and scream. I want to beg for forgiveness, tell her that she was right, that I should have listened to her.

But instead I am a statue, cool and smooth and hollow.

“Yes,” I say, and sit down.

I suck a lot at writing

We sit, silent, in the shimmernoise.

I just keep doing the same things over and over, and it sucks

Finally I force myself to look up, but I can’t meet Marigold’s eyes. Her lips twist with scorn. I realize that it is not okay.

“Rocks fall, everyone dies. There, that’s your future. You can go now.”

THIS SUCKS OMG but also lololol lamp-shading my tendency to kill all my characters

I can feel blood swirling in my cheeks and I’m breathing fast. Am I shaking? I might be shaking. I don’t know. Everything is fast and my heart beats and beats and beats and I can feel the blood driving through my veins and I can’t look at her, I can’t talk, I can’t do anything except hope that she stops being mad at me.

I don’t like it when people are mad at me.

So I am just now noticing the reflection in the thingy. I'm gonna make it work for me though, watch.

“I tried to tell you. Years ago. You wouldn’t listen. So now you come here to my wagon, wanting to know your future, when it’s too late. What, was he mean to you? Did he ask you to buy ingredients for his experiments and you did and now you’re wondering what you set in motion? Did you look into his eyes and see what was actually there for once, not your adolescent fantasy?”

it is the portal to the BetweenSpace!

“Yes?”

If I agree with her she won’t be mad and she will stop yelling.

Also she does have some things somewhat right. He wasn’t mean, exactly. I probably did buy the wrong sort of beetles. And I think I’ve always seen what was there, in his eyes. Intelligence, loneliness. Hurt. Warmth and light, once. Before the shadow. And the other day. I know I saw the light again the other day.

I will admit that I am a little worried about the beetles.

Is the BetweenSpace a good term? Because I'm gonna need a term for it by the end of this update.

“Oh good, you’ve come to your senses! Good for you! It’s too late to save anyone now though. Sorry. Like I said, rocks fall, everyone dies. You can go.”

Although yeah, like I predicted - most of that plot point will be in the next update

The adrenalin comes back full force, and this time it goes from above my kidneys straight to my ovaries and my mouth opens and the words come out in a string of glowing fluorescent lights and too many days spent making waffles and watching the squares fill with the shadow.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you but I thought you were my friend and I thought you would understand and that you would be happy for me and you don’t know Seth. You never did. You never gave him a chance. You turned your back on him. You turned your back on me. And if you want me to leave, I will, but I am here right now listening to you and I need your help. Please. I want him back. I want my Seth back.”

And yes, I know that Sarah sounds like me, and that is totally on purpose. Months before I started this story, I said I was going to do a Sarah-centric project that would reflect my experiences since Valley.

She looks at me. For a long time. Long enough for the adrenalin to drain away and leave my legs shaky again.

I start counting the blue stripes on the wallpaper. I keep losing track and starting over. I am starting my sixth attempt when she sighs.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. The whole seeing the future thing was new and I didn’t understand it and I was scared. I panicked, and I didn’t really see you as a person. As my friend.”

When she says the word friend I realize how desperately I have missed her. I’ve spent years locked up in that house with only myself for company, my thoughts circling around and around, making deep grooved lines of shadow against the kitchen’s white light.

Friend. I say it to myself, tasting it, savoring it. Friend.

I'm gonna name the next chapter Nightmare! In a total callback to Valley's Nightmare! :)

“So you’ll help me? You’ll tell me the future? I just…I need to know if he’s going to be okay, or if there’s anything I can do, anything I can change, to make it okay. Please.”

Please please please I just want the light to come back. I want the Seth I know is there. The one who touched me. The one who said my name. The one who joked about drinking napalm. Please.

I don't even know what the point of this chapter is. It's the fifth chapter, like Legend, but I don't know if you get much backstory here.

“It’s already gone past that point. I don’t think there’s any changing things now.”

It doesn’t matter what she thinks. If she will just give me some information to go on, I’ll figure something out. I’ll change things. I will save Seth. I will.

She smiles, a small sad smile, and I think about her living for years with the idea that something bad was going to happen, something that could have been prevented if I had listened to her.

Maybe she was right. Something bad did happen. Seth went into the shadow. But I am here now, listening to her, and I will fix it. Whatever I messed up, whatever I did wrong, I will fix it. I will make it better.

She speaks.

“But there may be other things we can do, actually.”

I'm wordy as hell these days, ya'll. This thing is looking to hit at least 1500 words.

“Have you ever heard of multiple universes?”

Her wings flap. The shimmernoise fills the room. I look at the transparent globe behind her, noticing for the first time that it reflects a door open to the outside, not the golden door and the blacklit room that I came in through.

“No,” I say. “No, I haven’t.”

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15 Responses to Shimmernoise

  1. missyhissy says:

    You’re such a talented writer! I know I’ve said it before, but it’s true!
    I’m please Marigold and Sarah are friends again. I think Sarah could use a good friend to confide it! *Hugs for Sarah*

    Like

  2. I love where you left this off. I really do. It’s like but but but — damnit. xD

    Like

    • medleymisty says:

      I am well known for my cliffhangers in my Sims stories. 😉 And I am excited about developing the multiple universes plot point and the many many interesting pictures that are going to be in the next update, so I might finish it faster than I managed to do this one.

      Like

  3. Robin says:

    This story is great! I can feel the doom getting closer (shivers)

    Like

  4. Blu Paws says:

    I was really leaning in towards my computer screen. What on earth? I can’t wait to see what kind of world Marigold will open up to Sarah. It’s amazing to see that after everything, Sarah is really willing to go through any length (like travelling through time and space!) to get Seth back. Now that’s love.
    There were some great facial expressions, especially when Marigold told her everyone dies, vamoose, be gone. She’s intimidating, but I like her. Marigold’s frustration is understandable, but sometimes you gotta let folks come to their own conclusions. I think she missed Sarah just as much ; -)
    I could really feel Sarah’s plight to make things right while making sure not to upset anyone.It’s all in her posture; it’s statuesque one minute and collapsed the next.
    *hugs for Sarah and hugs for you* Great update m’dear!

    Like

    • medleymisty says:

      *hugs you back a million times* Thank you so very very much, awesome friend person who I love a lot and who is very beautiful and good! 🙂

      I said way back in Valley days that Sarah’s main song was #1 Crush, by Garbage. I wasn’t kidding. 😉 Also, you know, hopeless romantic is one of her five personality traits. 😉 Her traits are: natural cook, hopeless romantic, family-oriented, coward, and light sleeper.

      Woo yay you got where I was going with Marigold! She can be harsh, but she has a decent heart underneath the harshness. And she did miss Sarah, and she can admit that she may not have been at her best at the time. Which when you learn the future she saw….you’ll realize why.

      Wow, I like that observation about Sarah wanting to make things right while not upsetting anyone. She is strong, but it’s a quiet strength. You know – she’s a housewife, she makes waffles, she tries her best to take care of Seth, she wants kids (thus the line in Entropy about trying to not listen to the kids in the park next door, and I imagine I’ll expand on that in future chapters), she is quiet and a people-pleaser, she values relationships above herself and her own needs. All very feminine traits, by society’s ideas. And she’s even in denial about and trying to save an emotionally abusive spouse. But she has just as much depth as Seth, and there is far more to her than what a casual observer might think. 😉

      And yes, I am very much looking forward to shooting, editing the pics, and writing the next chapter. 😉

      Like

  5. “We sit, silent, in the shimmernoise.”

    This chapter was awesome. I’m so excited about multiple universes! I feel like I should say more, but I’m feeling blah today. I’m sorry! ❤

    Like

    • medleymisty says:

      *hugs* I’ve been feeling blah too, which is why it took me a while to reply. I’m excited too! Gonna be fun taking and editing those pics! 😉 Thank you so much for being an awesome friend person through all my hermit phases. 🙂

      Like

  6. After reading your latest post in tumblr I decided to finally make a comment on something that caught my eyes the other day here in your blog. I think it was in one of the previous chapters of this amazing story.
    A comment you made to another reader about how some people at some forum never liked you from the start without giving you a chance. I thought of an answer to give you then, but felt it was not my right to stick my nose suddenly. Tumblr sucks, it only posted one comment, or did it post both? I have no clue but if it did post the comments then this is just senseless blabbing of mine here, however, if it didn’t here it goes: Those people at that forum can’t like you because you shine brighter than all them put together in a sun-room. Okay, I didn’t say that exactly, but it goes something of the sort.
    They come across your story and think it will be something plain, since you barely use any CC if you use any. But when they start reading, they realize they can’t ever create an intelligent story with a well crafted prose as the ones you write. They know, they WILL NEVER be able to come close to your creativity. They are like the fox that claimed the grapes were sour just because she could never reach them. You don’t need their inferior acknowledgement. Was I a bit too offensive? I meant every word.
    Keep doing what you do best.

    Like

    • medleymisty says:

      It took me a while to reply, for all sorts of reasons. One of them was thinking and feeling a lot about your words.

      *gives you all the hugs in all possible multiverses* Thank you, very very extremely much.

      You weren’t offensive at all! I appreciate honesty like that, and really – ever since the hate secrets I have been researching that sort of behavior, and yeah – I would say you’re right. Took me years to figure it out though, after I stressed myself into an ulcer trying to figure out what was so bad about me as a person, what I was doing wrong, why everything I said and did made people so mad.

      I have been looking through the Macklemore tag on Tumblr lately, and I could see it there, since it wasn’t about me. I could see that the people who hate on him don’t know anything about him and they completely misunderstand and misinterpret his work, and yeah, a fair few of them seem to hate him for no other reason than that he’s successful. I made that observation to the spousal person and he said “Well, yeah, you remember what happened to you, right?”

      Took me eight years, but I’m finally finding a place in the Sims community with good friends who talk to me and who are nice and supportive, like you. 🙂 I’ve found better friends, and I’ve also learned how to be a better friend, and I’m good now. And I am going to keep doing what I do best. Always. 🙂

      *more hugs* Thank you really really really a lot.

      Like

      • Well, I’m glad you are finally coming to terms with it all. Sometimes we tend to ignore certain things because we are careful not to become snobs, or arrogant fools. We think we really need to cater to certain people because we ourselves are not completely pleased with our work, and we look for acknowledgement were we subconsciously know it won’t matter. It’s like a way of beating ourselves down, making us challenge ourselves, making us stronger. It is all in the process of becoming a better artist and a better person.
        Artists, TRUE artists, struggle with self motivation and appreciation of their own work. Because perfection is the ultimate goal, and nothing is perfect.
        I love writing, but I understand my writing is a bit poor at the moment, so I have to challenge myself more and learn by, reading, reading, reading, and more reading. I have started doing this. However, I have been creating and expressing myself through art since I was very little; friends would say what I do best is not writing (not at all) but drawing. I have to admit I do neglect my art a lot, because I know that I can do it, but when I start drawing I feel like I’m not really that great as my friends think I am. So… hehe, instead of listening to them and the teacher, and the gallery owner, and my mother’s friend who is a painter, I post my art in forums where I think I should, so others can appreciate it, but where most of them are only amateurs; kids starting to discover themselves, or 30 somethings like me, who never really had a talent for it but love it. They all hate on my art, they all turn their noses, but not by saying it isn’t good, but by being mean to me or regarding me as rude and uncivilized. This happened many times, and I always went back to my friends crying and troubled, thinking I was a bad person who thought too much of herself. But my friends set me straight.
        Sometimes, we see too little in ourselves just because we want to be careful to not oversee what isn’t there in the first place. I hope this makes sense… I’m kinda losing my wording here.
        As a woman with a goal (to one day finally finish my novel) I tell you that your writing, your stories, they are GOOD. Good is a word I have learned to appreciate and not misused. You have talent. Know this, understand it, and use it to it’s full potential; use it to make a change. To reach people. Don’t worry about the haters, they are trying to survive just like we all are, but they are doing it wrong. Help them if they reach out, but if they don’t, help them indirectly with your stories. I’m sure they read it and like it, they just don’t tell you.
        Okay. I’m done here, because I just will continue to say the same thing over and over again.
        Let’s spread the love for one another, because that’s all we need like John said. 😉

        Like

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