She's always liked the rain, she tells herself, enough to ruin a perfectly good pair of stockings.
Sure, she hasn't played in the rain since who-knows-when (certainly not her, because her memories have been stolen from her by who-knows-who for who-knows-what) but when things are just a little too overwhelming, the rain stays simple.
And if she's being honest, the overwhelming-ness of her entire life ever since she found herself in Sunset Valley has just about reached its peak.
But that was before she noticed the changes. And took the test. Multiple times.
"What's wrong?" His feet sloshed when he stepped out after her, voice laced with concern. "I'm not upset that you're pregnant."
"I know." She'd sighed. "That's the problem."
She's always wanted children, or at least she thinks she has, but bringing another sim into a world as suffocating as this? Unacceptable.
A house. He buys a house.
In small moments such as these, she feels comfortable; almost like she could be content here, if she really tried.
But she doesn't. She stays determined.
"Would you take a break already?" He sounds disgruntled; at this point, Clarissa knows better than to take the grumbling at face value. "You look exhausted."
"I can't. I think I might finally have a lead. I just... need more time."
He looks surprised. Aside from the basic information he's able to glean from a glance at her plumbob, Clarissa has never let him look into her more detailed 'code.' "But what about your Before?" he asks cautiously.
Clarissa bites her lip. "Avoid it if you can, please. But, if you do see anything... just do me a favor and don't tell me."
"Is this part really necessary?"
"Physical contact does make it easier, you know."
"Yes, but..." she sighs into his palm. "Never mind."
"Great," Clarissa responds, tone distant.
She tracks down the Weather Stone. A strange construction that feels almost out of place in the Sunset Valley aesthetic, this monument of no origin was the centerpiece in many tales of supernatural happenings; tales which, when Clarissa was reading about them from dusty books in the elixir shop, toed the line between fiction and reality.
Fairies, witches, vampires, werewolves... Sunset Valley has nothing like this, at least as far as Clarissa can tell, yet here the Weather Stone stands.
Another dead end.
Though the cold trail of the Weather Stone is disappointing, she still has one more chance. If she can just study the alchemy tomes a bit more...
"Ingredients," Clarissa reminds him.
Hansol flails his legs to keep balance. "Uh, we're poor, but we're not that poor."
"Not for eating. It's for my project."
"Perfect."
"Don't mind me, just drowning in trash," Hansol grunts.
"I'm not, Hansol," Clarissa sighs. "I don't even know if this will work. But if it does, if our 'code' you talk about becomes temporarily incompatible with the inner-workings of this place... we might be able to slip past the perimeter."
"And what if it isn't temporary? What if glitches can't be temporary? Clarissa, I don't think--"
"I'll wait until after the twins are born to try anything." She reaches over to grab his hand, to meet his gaze intently. "I will get us out of here, Hansol. That's a promise."
She's going to be free!
The final ingredient is collected only a few days before Baby Time.
Hansol freaks.
Somewhere amidst the chaos, a taxi is called, and the twins are born at the hospital.
While Hansol would be happy to let Clarissa choose names for both girls, Clarissa reasons that there's certainly enough babies to go around, and it's only fair he gets a say.
So, the firstborn daughter is named by Hansol. He calls her Newlife--a name that is, in his mind, simultaneously beautiful, symbolic, and practical.
She hadn't truly loved her daughters until she held them in her arms, Clarissa thinks. Now, it's physically painful to let go. Still, it's hard to feel any joy, now that there's no more reason to wait.
Part of her already knows the decision Hansol will force her to make; and the decision she will force him to make in turn.
"Do they have them?" she asks him quietly. "The plumbobs."
Hansol's eyes haven't left the girls since they were born, but he nods in her direction. "Both of them."
Clarissa is silent for a moment. Then; "There's something I need to go do. I'll be right back."
"Right now?" Hansol looks at her for the first time since the birth. "But you just--"
"I know. I won't be long."
"Can't it wait--"
"No. I need to do this now."
As she assured him, it doesn't take long to complete what she has been working toward since the day they met.
She was worried success would feel hollow, but it doesn't.
It's exactly what she wants.
"We should leave now," she tells him, back at the house, a few hours later. "I finished the elixir, and I think... I think it'll work. It's dark, it's late; this is the perfect time."
He looks exhausted, concerned, a bit confused. "What we should do is rest. The girls need to rest. It's been a long night for all of us..."
"No," Clarissa's tone is clipped, a sharp contrast to how soft and delicate the house feels now that the twins are home; "I won't have my daughters staying in this place one second longer than necessary."
"I--"
"Our babies, Clarissa."
She falters.
"The only reason we met in the first place is because we both knew this town was wrong. You know what this place does to me, I can't--" she chokes. "This is no place to raise children. This is no place to be happy."
"Why not?" Hansol snaps back. "Everyone else is. I think I could be. And even if I wanted to leave..." his expression turns injured. "How could you even suggest risking our children like that?"
"They're so small, it would only take a few drops..." She's interrupted by the thin, sleepy wail breaking from one of the cribs behind her. Her eyes turn bleary and she casts her gaze away. Her brow knots with momentary guilt, and her shoulders are tight with indecision.
He takes her hands. "Stay," he begs. "We'll build our own happiness."
After a heavy beat filled only by the fitful cries of Omelas, she draws him into a tearful kiss. "I don't think that's possible."
She takes out the first vial.
It doesn't feel great; her body twists and jerks in unnatural ways, and she grits her teeth against a brief feelings of fire rushing her entire body. It's different from the times she'd tried normal elixirs.
Hansol watches her in frozen shock.
Once the discomfort subsides, she takes out the second vial. In the room beyond, Newlife has added her tiny voice to the growing din.
"Can you see anything different?" she asks Hansol quietly, barely audible beneath the crying behind her.
Hansol gives a delayed glance above her. "It worked," he answers.
Clarissa stares down at the second vial for a moment too long; she wants to look over her shoulder, but knows that if she does all her work will mean nothing.
She takes Hansol's hand and forces it to curl around the vial. "In case you change your mind," she says quickly, like the words need to leave her as soon as possible.
Her hand leaves his around the vial. And then she's gone.
☼
The drama, the intrigue! All in a magical world where women can run around town doing alchemy mere minutes after childbirth. Oh, Sims.
Clarissa having twins was a complete surprise; as far as I know, I didn't let her do anything that would have increased her chances. I had a second partner lined up for Hansol and everything (the roommate I originally moved Clarissa into the town with), but I can't say I'm upset. Not only does it make more sense thematically, but Clarissa's genes were far better. Although the roommate did have blue hair.
I did move Clarissa into the household for a short time, mostly for the sake of screenshots, but within hours of the kids being born, she downed the potion and I Totally Annihilated her from the game. So I don't think that breaks any single parent rules?
Anyway, this will probably be the last update on this blog for a while. Like I mentioned on MTS, I decided to revisit Hansol and his lonely little life after being inspired by my trip to Korea in late August.
One of the friends I saw is actually named Hansol--I wouldn't say sim-Hansol is named after her, but she is the reason I'm aware the name Hansol exists. (I had to figure out myself that it was gender neutral, though.)
Omelas comes from the short story by Ursula K. Le Guin, The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas. Newlife is the name of a girl I used to work with, and I loved it so much I knew I had to use it somewhere.
And with that, my personal "For the Love of God, Give Your Sims A Normal Name" challenge is failed yet again.
These screenshots have been sitting unused for a while; I haven't actually been back in this save since I started the Wilder-Moon blog.