Justice For Justice; Chapter 2

The dog lifts his head, having thoroughly enjoyed the short nap. Moonlight streams in through the windows; and while a sim would be nearly blind with such a little amount of light, his sensitive canine eyes easily sees the people on the bunks nearby. The strange yet somehow familiar smell permeates the whole room, and seems to be recent if his nose is as good as he believes it to be. 

Getting to his paws, he wanders around the room, sniffing here and there; following the invisible trail left by the creature and pads down the hall into the kitchen, but sees nothing and continues following the faint trail out into the hall. Following it outside, he notices that the food bowl got moved out here, next to a newly painted doghouse. The scent is strong around the bowl of kibble, and gets stronger. As he turns around he sees a pair of eyes in the darkness, a bit above him and across the yard. 

Cocking his head, he pads across the yard and looks up at the creature with a curious look, seeing them sitting upon a strange multi-level house of some type. He has seen cats before, but never one as strange looking as this one and they just watch as they approach placidly. By everything he knows about cats, they should run when they see him; him being a dog after all, but the creature is either fearless, or stupid. 

“Who are you?” He asks and the cat just gingerly licks a paw. “Cleopatra… but the people call me Violet because of my eyes, they are pretty don’t you think?” She says with a languid smile, leaning down so he can look at them. He gives his best dumb dog grin and nods, playing along, but he somewhat suspects she isn’t as dumb as she is pretending to be. She jumps down and he follows her as she saunters almost lazily to the porch, mostly so he can imprint her scent and keep an eye on her. He has never known many cats or lived with one; and he will reserve judgment on how he feels about this one until he knows her a bit better.

“What do they call you?” She asks in with a flowing, melodic meow, making it a bit difficult for him to understand. He is used to a more earthy way of speaking, but it only takes a moment for him to understand. 

“Well, Dog or mutt mostly… I haven’t been around Sims much.” He replies simply, still carrying off the dumb dog routine. “I think the last name I had was Hammer.” She sounds amused by his name. “Hammer? That kind of fits you.” She says, seemingly on the verge of laughing. He fixes a quirky grin on his face and his tongue lolls out of his mouth a bit. “What do you mean by that?” He asks, though he is pretty sure she has some inside feline joke about him being stupid or something like it; giving him the notion that she is fooled by his performance. “Oh nothing…” She says with a smile, turning to walk back into the house; obviously not finding him an adequate conversational companion.

He goes his own way and the encounter is forgotten for the most part in the excitement of exploring some place new. He finds a house just down the street, one that seems to be abandoned from the lack of recent human smells on the property. Not even bothering to scratch at the door, he goes for the trash can and strangely finds it full; and if his nose is any guide, there will be something to eat inside. 

He is not disappointed, finding a plastic container of only slightly spoiled macaroni and cheese, chowing it down with a will and finding it tasty. There are no bones or anything even resembling a toy so he returns home disappointed, just as the sun is rising over the mountains.

His companion for the last couple of days is already up and in a room smelling ever so slightly of urine, doing the most atrocious things to his mouth. The mint smell is almost overpowering and he wonders how he can even stand that taste in his mouth. When he finishes and spits something into the sink, he grabs some clean clothes and the dog gets some kibble from the bowl and waits for him to come back. He smells different; without the pungent odor he had gotten used to, but he isn’t overly perfumed like many people, so it doesn’t bother his sensitive nose. They walk outside and he realizes he hasn’t thought of a name for his human companion yet, perhaps one will come to him in the next couple days. 

His own name (the one he calls himself) is Barco Polo, like the famous canine traveler who traveled from far-away Shang Simla to Sunset Valley centuries ago. According to his dam, he is descended from that great pinnacle of canines and wears the name proudly. He has the blood of long distance travelers and keeps an easy loping pace beside the man’s bike, stopping only when he does for a breather and within a few minutes reach downtown and the businesses there. 

Downtown is a bustle of people and cars, the slight tang of smog in the air with each car that passes them. He sees people looking out the windows of the buildings and houses they pass and also of the cars that go by; curious as to whom they are. Up the hill from the nearly treeless town center is a low stucco building that simply reeks with a cacophony of chemical smells and while his companion goes inside; perhaps looking for work, he decides to stay outside away from that chemical smell. 

The wooden bench is vastly more comfortable than the fitted masonry of the ground and he spends his time enjoying the cool breeze and watching the people go by, engrossed in their own self-important activities. He is contemplating a name for his new companion when he falls asleep on that bench and wakes when his sensitive ears picks up the sound of the door opening behind him. 

Barco climbs off the bench as his companion walks over; stopping to give him scratches to his ears. He has never really been that social, but this human seems to be almost a kindred spirit and he’d have to be dumb to not at least acknowledge that and see how it goes. Well, he certainly likes the ear scratches, he thinks to himself and they walk back toward downtown. His companion stops in at most of the buildings and while he doesn’t know what he is doing, he gets to sniff pretty much everything in downtown, so doesn’t mind all that much. He is usually waiting for him when he walks back out; having sniffed all the bushes, trees and people that happened by. He had even grabbed a quick snack after some wasteful sim thrown away almost half of a meatball sub they’d been eating. 

By his companion’s demeanor and attitude, Barco senses that he is a little frustrated and angry with whatever is happening inside the buildings and nudges against him as they walk; his standoffish way of telling him it will be okay. They are out most of the afternoon, and he hopes that when they return home, he can lie down for a bit of a nap before it gets too dark.

“Oh look who is back…” Violet says as he climbs the stairs. “I’d turn back around if I was you… or you’ll get a bath; not that you couldn’t use it.” She says with amused meowing. “What’s that?” he asks, putting on his best dumb dog expression; knowing full well that it’s what people do to clean an animal. 

Truthfully, he’s never really had one, the rain or a puddle of water has always been good enough to keep him clean. “It’s horrible, they put you in a big thing of water and rub smelly stuff all over you and then rub you down with a towel until your fur stands up and you have to completely wash yourself all over again to make it right...” She says, narrowing her eyes in annoyance at having to explain such a rudimentary thing as a bath to the dumb dog.

Just inside Darren meets up with Justice as he’s heading for his bed, tired from all the riding around town that he did. “You look much better, a clean clothes and a shave will do wonders.” He says and Justice just nods in agreement. “Now you just need to give your companion a bath if you want him to stay here; it wouldn’t do to give Violet fleas.” While normally Justice isn’t someone who follows orders, he doesn’t really want to cause problems for someone who is trying to help him. He idly wonders who Violet is as he’s leading the dog to the back yard for his bath, having seen no other animals around the house. 

There in the back yard, his companion slouches down and speaks to him, but he’s never had one speak to him beyond telling him to get away and so Barco doesn’t understand what he is saying, but assumes that it has something to do with Violet’s warning about a bath. 

He motions for the dog to follow and leads him over to a tub near the workshop and Barco understands well enough that he want him to get into the tub on his own, but he is a little fearful about taking a bath; after Violet’s warning and refuses to get in. It takes several long minutes of coaxing and numerous treats stolen from the kitchen for the human to get him into the tub.

The water is warm and the soap has a very mild fruity smell and Barco finds Violet’s description of it somewhat accurate, but it isn’t horrible at all. He revels in having his fur clean, his ears checked and cleaned from mites and happily watches the dead fleas float around in the dirty water. He is washed twice and then dries him off with a fresh and dry towel. It is a bit uncomfortable when he gets out, he feels colder than he normally is possibly from not having all the dirt and grime caked in his fur. His companion goes into the house and disappears like the water going down the drain and leaves him to his own devices.

He goes out the front door and down the streets in his nightly wandering following the various scents coming to his sensitive nose. He comes up to house with the smell of humans, fresh water, and a strange array of odors unlike anything he’s smelled before. The car in the driveway smells of rust, old food and cheap gas and he does a rudimentary sniff before going to the water.

The water is clear and cold and smells fresh as Barco sticks his head into the water to search for fish. Seeing none, he takes a drink and finds it so good he gets seconds and thirds before turning to dig a hole, something he enjoys doing aside from dumping trash cans and shredding things.

He is just finishing up on his hole; having found nothing chewable when a strange smell assails him and he turns to see a man approaching slowly, a strange look on his face. “Hey there pooch.” He says with an oily grin and Barco gets a bad feeling about this guy; whoever he is. Dogs and cats can both sense when something isn't right, and his senses are giving him a warning to be cautious.

The man leans down and scratches his ears and he can smell the strange odors coming off his body, making him even more nervous and he tenses up so his fur stands on end and a low growl comes from his diaphragm. The man gets up and hurries away, shutting the door to the house as Barco follows him up the stairs and all the way to the door.. 

Angry at the man, he grips the closest chair with his jaws and begins shredding it until a large chunk of wood has broken off the underside. Still grumpy, he walks down the stairs and pees on the side of the house and then crosses the yard.

As a last vent for his anger, he knocks over the man’s trash can, even though he has no plans whatsoever of rummaging through the reeking refuse. He scatters the waste across the yard and goes back to cleanse his mouth with the fresh water from the pond before returning home. 

A similar smell assails him as he trots through the door; and he goes to find the source of it, more curious than anything. He follows it to the laundry room, just outside the bathroom where a blonde haired woman is standing. He hasn’t yet thought of a name for his companion; but one springs to mind for her, Smelly Socks since her smell reminds him of a sim who had never changed his socks; the smell sickly and bitter. She tries to leans down, but having already had a bad experience with someone smelling like her tonight, he growls in warning and she backs off and then turns to leave.

It doesn’t take long for him to find his way back to the bedroom so he can rest; having had a longer day than he normally would. He falls asleep dreaming of his new companion; hoping tomorrow will be better.

 

Justice for Justice; Chapter 1: A New Day Dawns.

He wakens shortly after the sun rises over the distant hills, shedding its wondrous silvery light over the town of Hidden Springs. For Justice, yesterday had been somewhat of a disappointment; though he knows today may be better for him. His eyes are still closed, but his sensitive ears pick up a snuffling and what sounds like claws on pavement. As he opens his eyes, he sees a mottled brown and tan dog wandering around on the empty lot, licking its chops and searching the thick brush for bugs or something edible. By the lack of a collar and slightly pungent smell, he can tell the dog is a stray; much like himself he thinks ruefully. He slides out his sleeping bag and rolls it up, stopping when he realizes that the dogs head is cocked slightly to one side, looking directly at him.

Since he was a kid running the streets of Sunset Valley, he has always had a little trepidation of dogs; especially ones as large as this. He had been playing with his friends, minding his own business when a stray dog much like this started chasing him. It had nipped at his bum and his ankles, nearly tripping him twice and he had been forced to vault over a fence into a thick bramble of wild blackberries to escape. He had cowered in that bramble, scratched and bleeding from numerous small wounds for several minutes before the dog gave up and left. This one before him seems a little more passive, so he slowly gets to his feet so as not to startle it and as he does so, the dog comes closer.





The dog seems to be more curious than anything and as Justice holds his hand out, the dog moves in and snuffles his hand warily, backing up almost as quickly as it has advanced. He comes in a second time and this time he simply drops to his haunches and sits there looking up at him, licking his chops and Justice is hit with the revelation that perhaps the dog is looking for something to eat; maybe the dog even expects him to have something. He hasn’t eaten since yesterday and he has no food at all, even for himself, so he decides to check the dumpsters for anything he can take to be recycled. He had long got over his aversion to climbing into trash heaps and while he doesn’t find much there worth anything, he stops in at the recycling center inside the grocery store for the two simoleons the cans are worth.



Like any city, the town has a dump for its waste products and he finds his way over and searches for anything else that can be recycled. Most people in Sunset Valley have no regard for nature and throw away soda cans, plastic jugs, metal containers and what not, and the same is true here; though not to the same extent. He finds plenty of stuff to take in; enough for twenty two more simoleons and though he is hungry, he will save it.



He washes up in the public restrooms at the community garden and when no one is looking, swipes some tomatoes sitting ripe on the vine untended. He wolfs a couple of them down on the way home, his rusty bike carrying him quickly away from the scene of his theft. As he rides the lonely road leading to the center of town, he sees numerous stray dogs quarreling for scraps left by the townspeople or chasing squirrels and birds on the off-chance they can catch one. Cats slink through the shadows in search of food and Justice realizes this place isn’t very animal friendly at all. Concern for the stray dog that had visited him that morning suddenly wells up in him and he makes a detour in his route; stopping when he sees a thrift store.



Stopping inside, the cashier gives him a snort of derision at seeing him, but haltingly answers his questions about whether or not he has any simple plastic or metal container; probably wanting nothing more than for him to leave his store. He finds an inexpensive plastic container and buys it, then stops off at the market on his way home. When all is said and done and he rides up to the abandoned lot, the dog is still lingering, licking its paws and lifts its head when Justice walks up.



The yellow plastic tray is soon filled from the small bag of kibble he bought at the store for 10 simoleons and the dog wags happily at seeing it, though uncouth; charges over and chows down before Justice can even get out of the way. They spend the afternoon and evening in tense silence; the dog paying more attention to digging holes and sniffing everything than to him. Justice eats the last of his pilfered tomatoes as the sun goes down and idly wonders what tomorrow will bring for him.



The afternoon drags on, and he spends a little time trying to convince the dog he means no harm by speaking in low tones in an unthreatening manner; but the stubborn critter pays little mind to his rambling. It is a couple hours later; as Justice is preparing for bed that he watches as a Hidden Springs Police car pulls up and a lady officer gets out of the driver’s seat and approach to speak with him.



Officer Michelle Matlin is a young beat cop on a simple patrol through downtown. She had joined the force last month after passing through the training academy and was so excited to finally get her own squad car; to battle ruthless criminals and weed out undesirables in town. The job isn’t as exciting as she had imagined; having made only a single arrest in the peaceful community in the last month and that for drunken disorderly. When she had passes this lot yesterday in her patrol it was empty and when she saw a filthy, bedraggled man wandering around on the lot with a sleeping bag, she decided to take action.

Approaching him, she forcefully gives her name, putting particular emphasis on “Officer” Matlin, though keeping a little distance between herself and him; mostly from the smell of him.“You cannot stay here... city ordinance 10-2 states that public lots may not be used by indigent persons as a place to stay.” She says gruffly. He is crestfallen, suddenly wondering where he will go if he can’t stay here. He had hoped that people here were as accepting of people like those in Sunset Valley, but he is mistaken in that assumption. “The Hidden Springs Outreach Center is near the eastern edge of town and is a place for people like you.” She says disdainfully; as though homeless people were the cause of all of mankind’s misery.

“Can you tell me where they are so I can make my way that direction…” He says with a sigh and the dog just looks over at him, tongue hanging out of its mouth as it watches the drama. The officer glances at the dog, nervously fingering her sidearm. “There is a dirt road off the highway if you head west, right around the first bend you will see a black house… that is where you want to be.” She says simply; a bit nervous having the dog nearby. “They are closed at the moment, so you can stay here tonight; but I expect you gone by morning.” She finishes and walks away.



He falls asleep after lying awake for some time, pondering his newest problem and hoping the outreach will have a place for him; places like that tend to fill up fast and stay full. Maybe at the least he can get a meal and take a shower; most shelters will at least give those even if they don’t have a bed for you.



The dog had wandered off just after the human had fallen asleep, on his nightly escapade in search of food. While he really doesn’t really need it tonight after all the kibble he had eaten, it is still something he enjoys doing, so goes down the street a short distance until he sees a big house with the porch light on. Padding across the porch, he scratches at the door; having learned this trick long ago as a possible way of getting food from humans, but after a long wait he figures no one is awake to hear him so goes back down the stairs.





Another trick he learned was to knock over the trash cans; humans are always putting half-eaten food in them; potentially he could find something tasty. The can hits the grass with a loud crash and the top comes off and rolls out into the street, spilling the garbage out onto the ground. He sniffs the pile and dives right in searching for goodies. He finds a half-eaten ham sandwich and a chunk of bone from a roast and eats the former in one bite and carries the other back to the abandoned lot, sitting next to the human and scraping his teeth on the bone to dislodge the particles of meat still clinging to it.



Like Justice, he wonders what tomorrow will bring; hopefully something good to eat and a nice stretch of grass to run and play on; all a dog really needs; that and a human to take care of. He curls up on the hard ground and lays his muzzle onto the dirt and falls into a deep doggy sleep; dreaming of chasing cars and squirrels running through endless fields.



The next afternoon finds Justice at the black structure that houses the Hidden Springs Outreach Center, meeting with the apparent manager of the facility outside. The man had been just returning when Justice rode up on his bike, the dog running behind and happily barking at whatever suiting his fancy. He hadn’t been expecting it; but maybe that old adage is true; the one that goes “if you feed a stray dog, he’ll keep coming back.” or something like that. Darren Winter is the owner/operator of the shelter and greets Justice with a firm handshake and a warm, welcoming smile. He is an older man; likely in his late 50s or early 60s, but maintains a youthful vigor that Justice hopes to have at that age.

“I was told that you may have a bed available for me?” He says, once the introductions are concluded. The old man nods and walks up the stairs and into the facility, turning while on the porch. “I do indeed have a bed available for you; and also for your furry friend too.” He says cheerfully and passes through the door.



“We can do this okay?” Justice says, stooping down to run his hands down the dog’s flank softly; hoping to put the dog at ease. The dog perks his ears, listening to the strange man, but doesn’t really understand what he is saying. He does enjoy the attention though and stands placidly while the man pets him and turns to walk into the building.



The dog follows him up the stairs as the old man gives Justice a tour of the facility and he sniffs everything; sensing some other creature is a resident in this place. Darren starts by going over the rules of the shelter; shows him the living room and kitchen, bathroom and laundry facilities. There are also shower rooms for the residents use and of course the bedrooms; one for women, one for men since they are the only shelter in town.



He is shown to his new quarters and given a bunk, finding them abandoned at the moment; but that is hardly surprising considering the first rule of living here is that you must be out of the shelter from nine in the morning to five at night; looking for gainful employment or going to school; since teens often find their way here after running away from home. He is given a change of clean clothes, a toothbrush and razor and a pair of shoes all of which are put to use that evening when he finds one of the shower rooms and feeling refreshed, gets a bite to eat from the kitchen before wandering the rest of the facility. 

The dog enjoys running on the expansive lawns on both sides of the house and gets some kibble from a bowl in the kitchen to tie him over until morning; one with a strange scent attached to it… something he isn’t familiar with.



Justice falls asleep first; having had a very exhausting day getting food for himself, earning a bit of money from recycling and taking care of his new companion. Though the dog searches for the elusive other animal that he will be living with, he finds nothing but tufts of fur here and there and that strange smell in every room of the house. He curls up and falls asleep on the carpet near Justice’s bunk soon after and has his regular doggy dreams; chasing squirrels and cars and this time with a shadowy figure, one that he just can’t seem to catch.


  

Chapter 13: A Visitor from the Past

Owen’s burial is somber occasion, where everyone stands in a half circle around a hole in the ground while his body is carefully lowered by L10N3L into the hole. The body had been cleaned and new clothes placed on it by the gentle simbot before this ceremony and the only reminder of that unfathomable event is the angry dark circle around his neck from the knotted sheets he had used to take himself out of the world. Those present saw smoldering anger in Lainee’s eyes as she watched Lionel move methodically and gently; maybe thinking perhaps he should just dump him unceremoniously in the hole and kick dirt over him instead of this more stately and dignified manner.

It is done before long and everyone seeks solace in their own company; most fighting their own failings in the last round or hidden fears that they could be next to leave their mortal coil behind. Whatever their demons, they all went apart from each other in the limited space the Arena has to offer to tend their own affairs.



Simon is standing on the battlement; looking out on the river and listening to the soothing sounds of the rushing water over the rocks and chirping of crickets. He knows he did well in the last round, but it felt like luck more than his skill kept his alive yesterday. He has the notion that Rowena had had something bothering her; she had been a bit distracted during their match and that is the only reason he’d defeated her. While he certainly doesn’t wish her ill will, he hopes she will go before he does; but he really doubts his luck will hold out much longer. For nearly an hour, he wallows in self-pity but when an idea slowly dawns on him and then grows to a more detailed narrative, he decides to seize the opportunity; as he may not get another chance at it.



While he knows he shouldn’t have one, he pulls out his concealed cell phone and looks around carefully before dialing, hoping that they haven’t changed their number in the last six months, the last time he talked to them. “Hey, it’s me.” He says simply and without preamble, knowing he has to be quick so Lainee doesn’t find out. A sleepy voice on the other end of the line replies and he continues as they listen. “I had this idea… I want you to come to see me. I can’t say much, but I really want to see you… you can meet me at the park above the Redwood Heights Lodge here in Hidden Springs if you agree.” He says hopefully, and fearful at the same time since they could easily say no, or maybe they have no reason to come. “I want to see you too, perhaps catch up on things; I can be there tomorrow sometime.” The voice says and his spirit soars with the news, glad they said yes. “See you then.” He says casually and hangs up, his steps lighter than they have been since he first stepped foot in the arena.



Not too far away Tarik is sitting alone, staring into the inviting flames of the campfire and lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t know Owen well, but he still misses the gruff soldier and feels sadness at knowing the man had no family to leave behind, no one that really cared for him as a man or even as a human being. Here he knows the others likely feel much as he does regarding the man, but in a morbid fashion are glad it is him gone, and not themselves. He doesn’t believe that at all; in fact, he is prepared to die when it is the will of Allah, now that his God has been restored to him after so long hiding in the darkness of his soul. Thoughts on Owen’s lack of family brings around thoughts of his own and he wonders if he will ever see them again this side of heaven, or if he will have to wait until they join him. He cries visibly in the depths of his own pain, feeling the loss as keenly as a knife plunged into his back.

His tears fall freely for many long minutes, almost washing away the heaviness in his spirit and bringing a new sense of purpose to this normally passive man. He vows to himself and to Allah that whatever happens from now on will be Allah’s will and he will face it as he should; with shoulder back, head up and a scream of defiance to his last breath.



Below him and across the arena, Saraya is battling her own inner demons as well; one by the name of Antonio. Ever since she first started competing with him she has been vexed by how easy it is for people to like him; even though she has more talent in her left nipple than he does in his whole miserable body. It was more than that she comes to realize, now that she is finally being honest with herself. She was jealous of the attention he got from other women when she had been standing right there, and most were flighty little things without a thought in their head beyond climbing into bed (or under the bleachers) with him for long enough to get their tickle-heart attended to. She had made her feelings known to him early in their tryouts for the Olympics and he had just laughed at the time. They had shared their pain and anxiety, their tears and triumphs during the tryouts and even into the Olympic Games. They had spent many nights together in the tent they shared, celebrating victory after victory; each passionate encounter was like another victory for her and she fell for him hard.

As the press began to gravitate towards the swaggering peacock, he had cut off their relationship without a word; once it was plain he could get as many women as he wanted and it was like the supply of oxygen was suddenly cut off to her brain. She could barely think; she didn’t eat much and there wasn’t anything she could do but watch as one woman after another would stop by to “visit” him and go quite willingly to his bed. He had heard their sounds in the dark tent and soon took to sleeping in a different tent; though not far enough away to completely muffle the sounds of their blissful pursuits. Every moan or grunt was like a knife twisting in her gut.

This contest has shown her that she has been wrong in letting her anger at Antonio carry on for as long as it has. Life is too short to hold grudges like that; ones that will fester inside like a cancer and affect your life more than they should. Saraya know that he hadn’t been completely at fault in that; she hadn’t pursued him and fought for what she wanted. It wouldn’t have been hard to drive the women away (by force if it had come to that). She sighs and goes about her day, promising herself that she will focus all of her energy on this potentially lethal competition before her.





Ayasha and Rowena are pensive, but pretty much at peace with themselves; having already faced their demons and feel sadness remotely as they go about their training. Ayasha is sitting cross-legged on the floor of the sparring room, her mind empty of thought and her breathing steady within her meditative trance.

Rowena is nearby in the training room, the practice dummy taking all of her anger and pain in the steady and solid blows she rains upon it uncomplaining. Owen’s service had left her bitterly determined not to be the next one going in a hole. Sweat runs down her face as her hands become a blur of motion, spinning the dummy this way and that, even rocking it in place with the roundhouse kicks she delivers to it. She gets lost mentally and emotionally in her practice and when she finishes, goes to wash up.



After the ceremony, Lainee felt the rage within her, like an inferno threatening to consume her reason. “How could that treacherous hunk of metal disobey her yesterday?” is the main thought circling around in her skull; which is pounding like a bass drum as she paces back and forth in the grass near the new grave markers. In the arena itself Lainee is the boss and her word should be law and she decides to go and enforce that. She finds the robot nearby, just going to clean up and confronts him. “I am the Overseer!!” She shouts, taking him aback at the sudden outburst. He has never been prone to violent outbursts, unlike his predecessor and listens patiently as Lainee rails against him for disobeying her yesterday and then goes on about today. “You should have dumped that stupid fuck into his hole and kicked dirt over him… in case you haven’t noticed this is a fight to the death and they are all criminals! They don’t deserve your mercy or kindness!” She shrieks like a banshee and Lionel is forced to lower the sensitivity of his ears to avoid her keening wail as she continues. “Next time one of them dies, just fucking dump them in a hole or throw them in the river for all I fucking care!! You WILL listen to me from now on and do exactly as I say or you will find yourself in a hole before anyone else dies… do you get me?” She trails off menacingly and he just holds out his hands.

“Didn’t he pay for those crimes with his death? Doesn’t that give him the right to a bit of kindness before he is laid to rest?” He says placidly in his stern monotone. “You can tell me to take someone to the cell, or bury them here with the rest and I have to obey, but the manner with which I do my job is my concern, not yours. I will NOT be needlessly cruel or callous just because you tell me to. I know the rules of the competition as well as you do and cruelty is never mentioned; just that I have to do the Overseers’ bidding.” He finishes flatly and walks away without another word. She is awestruck by his refusal to accede to her demands and though she wants to follow through with her threat to bury him, she knows deep in her heart that she can’t… at least until she can do it without getting caught or implicated.





Shortly after Lainee’s outburst, Simon finds Ayasha on the wall and goes to speak with her, he and Saraya had been unwitting conspirators to the woman’s plan a few days before; a plan that they are still in the dark about, but he figures that she owes him one for playing along when the Overseer believed she had snuck out of the arena. He’d seen her sneaking out of the secret room and only the three of them know of its existence, and when the overseer had confronted her, they didn’t go against her, making the Overseer turn her attention to other matters. She had never really thanked him for it, but she doesn’t really seen to be the type that is accustomed to doing it.

“I need help with something… I am planning to go out for a bit this evening.” He begins and she just smiles up at him, a smirk plain on her full lips. “Perhaps you can help me out by keeping the overseer distracted should she come looking for me… like she did the other day.” He says, letting it drop meaningfully. She just nods and leans in conspiratorially. “I have a few ideas.” She barks out a laugh. “But consider us even if I do this for you.” She says, suddenly serious and he just nods. It feels like it has the weight of commitment as he heads back the way he came and down into the arena for a few hours of sleep.



Six hours later, when the sun had set Simon gets up and allows himself to be seen by the Overseer before rushing to the secret door and opening it once the coast is clear. Inside, he spends a few minutes doing as Ayasha instructed; clearing his mind and focusing all of energy. At first he isn’t sure it is working, but he soon has the feeling of lightness comes over him as she suggested it would, and he forms a picture in his mind. There is the sensation of flying and he swears that if he opened his eyes he would see the world shifting around him. He had pictured the place he wants to go and before he even opens his eyes he can smell flowers and the fresh scents of open air.





This small park is far off the beaten path, in the hills above the Redwood Heights Ski Lodge and is nearly abandoned as he goes to wait impatiently for his friend to arrive. It has been months since they last spoke and years since he has seen them in the flesh. He hopes they are well and can find this place easily. The flickering light from the camp fire is mesmerizing in its warmth and he loses all track of time in the memories that stir in his head.

The hard chair beneath him forms knots in his back and shoulders and numbs his rump, but he feels nothing as the dreams of the past few nights play over and over in his brain. A sound nearby disrupts the images and he looks up and out into the darkness.



A familiar face peers over a flowering bush and his heart skips a beat at seeing them for the first time in half a decade or more. He stands slowly and on weak legs, not quite believing Shara Hightower is here in Hidden Springs to see him. A million questions race to the forefront of his mind, but he sets them all aside for now.



The years have been kind to her; and she looks just as she did those years ago. As she steps into the firelight, he gets a good look at her and she takes his breath away. Her hair is bit different and her eyes have lost some the playful sparkle they once had, but she still has the lithe, sinuous figure and quirky sense of style she’d had as a teen. The last time he’d seen her, her father had condemned the relationship they had and soon after, she was sent away to the university; one of HIS choosing.



It is like no time has passed at all as they talk candidly about the paths their lives have taken since they parted ways all those years ago. Shara had indeed gone to the university her father had sent her to and did well during her time there, but it didn’t take long for her to rebel against him. Life at the university had taught her to pursue her own dreams, not the dream of others and she dropped out to attend an art academy in Champs Les Sims, France; home of the great Simpressionist painters that grace the walls of many an art gallery.

She already knows of his competing in the Last Sim Standing competition and his reason for being there; the media had slandered him by using terms like “white collar criminal” and “Thief” but she never believed he was capable of something like that. He tells her about Harvey Rabbit and his gang; how they basically railroaded him into this contest and the actions of his former partner that had started it all on the downward spiral.



She leans in and embraces him warmly, in longing for the years back that they had been apart and in silent acceptance of everything that had happened and what they had both become since they have been apart. Just having her against his body, the scent of her hair and light perfume is enough to make the years fly away completely. They hold each other for a long while, just relishing the embrace and he can feel a longing building in her and his own body signals its willingness for what he hopes will happen next.



At that same moment Lainee realizes that she hasn’t seen Simon around for at least an hour and goes to search for him. She had been looking sourly down at Owen’s grave and goes up to the first person she sees; the lunatic Saraya. “Have you seen Simon around?” She asks simply, not wanting an argument. The woman had been briefed by Ayasha to help her distract the Overseer for a bit and it will mean the woman will owe her a favor later on, so she had agreed. “I saw him in the Dining Room just a few minutes ago, having supper.” She says blandly, clearly not wanting to talk to the Overseer at all. The woman turns and heads downstairs in search of Simon.



In the dining room she sees a plate from the evening meal, but the man himself is nowhere to be seen so she walks out and into the kitchen, cornering Rowena in front of the refrigerator.



Rowena saw her enter and had gone about loitering to get the woman’s attention. She doesn’t know what this whole subterfuge is about, but Ayasha had suggested that she chat up the overseer for a bit to distract her. She thought perhaps Ayasha had something planned and didn’t want the Overlord poking her nose into it, so she plays along. The “cornered” woman is smiling and at peace with herself, and before Lainee can ask about Simon, she asks the woman for “advice” about a hypothetical situation; one involving having “feelings” for one of her competitors and wanting to know what to do.

Lainee finds it strange that the woman is asking her advice about anything, but decides to try and help, since everyone seems to hate her but Rowena. It takes several long minutes of discussion to give her the advice her own mom would have given her in the same situation.



Back at the park, Simon and Shara are just releasing the almost sensual embrace. He takes her hands in his, finding them warm to the touch and looks deep into her familiar blue-green eyes with a coy smile on his lips. “Shall we find some place we can be alone?” He whispers. She nods and takes his arm as he leads her down the hill to the abandoned lodge.



The Redwood Height Luxury Lodge is closed for the season, but Simon feels there is no sense drawing too much attention to potential passerby’s by breaking a window on the bottom floor to get in when there is a perfectly good door on the second floor balcony. He breaks one of the tiny glass panels in the door and reaches in to unlock it and as the door opens and he pulls her in behind him he gets a rush of adrenaline with what will be come next. The whole place smells of dust and mildew, but they pay it no mind as they fall into each other’s arms and kiss away the last five year’s absence.



Once Lainee got her question out, Rowena had directed her to the barracks, where she had apparently seen Simon napping only a short while earlier, right after supper. When she enters, she sees some of his clothes on the floor and the bed in disarray like he’d been there, but she suspects he has gone AWOL, like Ayasha did the week before; a fact she is still investigating, but as yet cannot prove.



Turning to leave, she seeks out the treacherous woman herself and finds her engrossed in a game of foosball in the main hall. “Where is he?” She growls and Ayasha takes the initiative. “Who? Tarik? I haven’t seen him for a bit, perhaps you should check the courtyard, he was reading a book last I saw.” She says with an easy smile. Lainee, ever suspicious of this woman just arches her eyebrow. 

“Simon… where is he?” She growls again, though with the thinly veiled attempt at civility. Of all the competitors, Ayasha is probably the most dangerous; certainly a wild card in this event; no telling what she is capable of considering her background. “Simon… I vaguely remember he said something about being alone for a while, but he also said he would take a shower first… have you checked the bathroom?” She suggests casually, sending the Overseer off with a bee in her ear.



They lose their lip lock and stumble into a room and fall onto the bed and continue making out; hot and heavy like they had in high school. Time passes slowly as they grow hotter with desire by the moment, their bodies both crying out almost painfully with lust for each other. Hands explore each other anew and soon they are very familiar with every nuance. Kisses and touches make way to sheer and unimaginable pleasure as their bodies become one in a sometimes clumsy, sometimes sensual, but always passionate rhythm. It lasts for longer than either of them realizes and when it is over, they collapse in a breathless heap and simply hold each other until their breath returns. Knowing he doesn’t have long before he must return, he turns to face her and sees her tears. “Be safe… get through this so we can be together again“ She says sadly and hugs him one last time before he gets to his feet, dresses and walks back to the arena, lost in thought.



About the same time, Lainee is just walking into the shower room, seeing a set of Simon’s pajamas on the floor, and a slight dripping from the faucet in one of the showers but still no sign of the man. Grumbling to herself, she goes striding down the hall, full of purpose; that purpose being proving the man had left the arena.





He is just rounding the corner into the main hall when she spots him and rushes over to confront him. “I know you left the arena!!” She hisses. “Just like Ayasha did last week… you won’t get away with this.” Her voice is a harsh whisper and frustration is plainly written on her face. “I have been looking for you for over an hour and I demand that you tell me where you have been.” Ayasha had coached him on this possible outcome and he is ready for it.



The only emotion he will show is anger and lashes out at the horrible woman. “I needed to be alone… is that too much to ask?!?” He growls and advances on her, forcing her to step backwards. “I may die a horrible death tomorrow, or the day after, can’t I get a little peace and quiet without a bitch like you coming to harangue me with your pointless observations or trying to stir up trouble? Can’t you wait at least until I am dead to treat me with such disrespect.” Ordinarily a man like him would make her laugh; even angry, but something in Simon’s eyes and his manner had forced her back, and there is no way for her to recover except to relent. “Just show me where you were hiding, and we’ll let this go.” She says almost meekly and he just glares and leads the way.



High up along the wall toward the back of the arena, Simon leads her to a small chamber used for maintaining the statues that overlook the arena and once inside, she sees his shoe prints on the floor and a void in the dust on the wall where he had been sitting.

“Sorry for my assumptions.” She says softly, the words tasting like ashes in her mouth, so unaccustomed to speaking them as she is. “It’s okay, just don’t jump to conclusions next time and we’ll all be happier.” Simon says with a smile and walks away, levity in his steps.