Fortunately for Magda the heart pills she'd stolen from Edgar before taking flight had a decent black market value in certain parts of the world. As she contemplated the view out of the taxi window, she wondered if she'd been rash about turning down the offer to stay as a kept mistress. Then she recalled the bruises she'd seen on the woman who'd served the tea, no she'd made the right choice, no amount of money or finery was worth the bruises hiding behind the fine silk & lace on the woman's arm. Thankfully all small towns had libraries, and this one was no exception. A quick browse of the internet showed that Edgar was doing fine, and was newly married to Sven. Magda fumed as suddenly many little things clicked into place, Sven had never been into her at all, she had only been a cover for the two men. A cover who'd no longer been needed when the right for all to partner had been granted to everyone. As Magda stared at the screen she felt her cheeks go hot and then cold. Not once had she ever considered what it would be like to be the one used and duped. She could feel her temper rising, she'd show them. She'd find someone even richer and then she'd flaunt her success in their faces. Yes, she'd show them that Magda Rossi was no ones beard. Magda's Louboutin's clicked on the wooden floor as she stridently made her way, first to the information desk, and then to the reading room where the daily papers and magazines were kept. Magda refused to let herself settle into the worn sofa, who knows who had sat on it before her. She skipped the main headlines, she wasn't worried about world politics or court maneuvers, at least not right now. Right now she needed a new patsy her funds wouldn't hold out to much longer. As she skimmed the fashion section she spotted her perfect opening. "Fashion Designer Vinecenzo D. is in Les Champs for fashion week. He was spotted alone, after a particularly bad break up last month, interviewing prospective models for the upcoming fashion week. When asked he admitted that he was once again available, but added that he was staying away from models this time. He was also hoping to find a traveling companion who was as passionate about fashion and art as he was." The article listed a number for those interested in applying to become his traveling companion. Magda could feel the rush of elation, dumping the paper on a nearby desk she quickly called the number listed, hoping that no one else had already been selected. To travel with the David Vincenzo would be quite the feather in her cap, much more so than Edgar. A male voice answered the phone, and Magda quickly explained that she was calling in response to the article. Her heart almost fell when it was mentioned that there had already been several responses, and soared back up when she was informed that so far none had passed the test. With a deep breath Magda calmly replied with an almost purr that she was more than confident that she would be able to pass the test. Thirty minutes later Magda had an address and a flight number. All those years reading Vogue and insider journals had paid off. As soon as Vincenzo opened his mouth she realized her horrible mistake, this ... this person of questionable style was the Vincenzo she'd spoken to, the Vincenzo of the article, and he was decidedly not the David Vincenzo. She was stuck though, at least for now. The article hadn't been completely wrong, he was a fashion designer, although if his personal styling was an indicator not a great one in Magda's opinion, and he had planned on showing during fashion week. Unfortunately, Vincenzo explained someone had left his racks of clothes outside the tent and they'd not only gotten soaked during a storm but that they'd also been struck by lightening and completely destroyed. Due to the bizarre accident he wasn't going to get to show and had already been removed from the program; however they might as well enjoy the time and check out Les Champs before returning to his home in Twinbrook. It had been a whirl wind of activity the last few day; crepes at the cafe, sight seeing, the museum, and now the winery. Magda's head throbbed, how much had they consumed. She didn't want to share the bed with Vincenzo, but it had been made clear that that room was the only one left for the night. Magda's head throbbed just what had gone on last night, and why was the clerk calling her Mrs. Devlin and congratulating her on their nuptials. There was no way that she would have married this man, just none, she could barely tolerate him. A quick chat with a book clerk sent Magda in a direction she might not have considered if she wasn't feeling desperate. Her attempt at the secret signal got her in trouble with the next clerk. Thankfully Vincenzo opened his mouth, and the clerk with a pained sympathetic look nodded towards a spiral stair. Magda pleaded her case only to be told that nothing could be done while they were still in Les Champs. The man gave her a thin slip of paper with an address in Twinbrook. As Magda climbed the stairs, she missed the ghostly whisper cautioning her to be careful what she asked for. It was late at night when they finally arrived back in Twinbrook. Magda looked apprehensively around as the taxi passed what appeared to be the good part of town and headed towards what looked distinctively like the bad part and a swamp at that. One look at her new home, and Magda swore to herself that there was no way in helz that she would stay her longer than the 24 hours it would take to get an annulment. The plan for an annulment had been a bust, now no matter how much it creep-ed her out she needed to follow up on that address, but how with Vincenzo following her like a lost puppy exclaiming how he couldn't believe his luck to be married to such a gorgeous woman. Magda pulled up the address on her phones gps, the gym ... really, oh what a stroke of luck for her. Magda should have realized that something was up when Vincenzo had been hesitant to go out in public, but she was to focused on herself to see, yet again, the warning signs of impending doom. Dealing with mystics was nerve wracking, and what had he meant when he had intoned as sown shall be reaped. A very nervous Vincenzo had dragged her from the gym before she could give the treadmill a whirl, he sounded like a deranged mad man muttering under his breath about racket's. As Magda watched her light dinner swirl down the toilet she heard male voices shouting, and one whimpering. The men were angry, something about thousands lost and repayment was expected. The simpering voice was begging for mercy ... my wife's purse ... Not enough the angry voice declared luckily for you the Lancaster woman likes your work. Magda wanted to run out and grab back her purse as it dawned on her that Vincenzo was the simpering voice, but another wave of nausea sent her instead flying back to the toilet. Could this day get any worse Magda wondered to herself as she wearily climbed the stairs. Yes. Yes the day could indeed get worse, a condemned sign was tacked to the door of the shack. As she sat on the edge of the rickety bed staring at the disaster left by whomever had spirited Vincenzo away she was wondering how the next day would fair when she spotted a manila envelope sticking out of the up turned drawers. Cautiously opening it, hoping it wasn't even worse news, she noted the post mark was from during their time in Les Champs. "Regarding our wager, you were right, and so as promised I pass onto you the deed to our families estate in the islands." Enclosed along with the brief note was a worn property deed and a travel voucher. Magda was so excited by this small turn of good fortune that she missed the one way travel stamped on the lower corner. It took several days of rough travel to reach her newest destination. During which time Magda caught a news report of a man being arrested for pretending to be a minister in Les Champs, and seeing Vincenzo's and her own names among the list of those scammed. That was a tiny relief she decided, that they hadn't actually been married. Magda also learned that the island was in the colder north not the warmer south she had assumed. She also had more than enough time to worry more and more about her unexplained nausea and the ominous words ... as sown so reaped. The boat pulled up near a beach and a dingy was lowered to the water. Magda gave the captain a quizzical look, surely there was a pier or dock to disembark at. He was quite firm that this was her stop. As she stepped off the dingy onto the beach the sailor was already pushing back off towards the ship, and was calling back that they would sail by once in awhile to see how she was fairing. Her heels sinking into the ground, Magda slowly made her way up the hill towards the line of trees, surely a road and people would be on the other side. Magda's throat went dry and her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the run down building in front of her. A very quick circle of the property made her realize that not only was there no road, there were no other people either. She was completely alone on a deserted island with nothing for shelter but a rundown house. Taking a deep breath she stepped through the door to survey her new home, and almost ran back out as insects and mice scurried away from her. Magda grimaced as the stairs ominously creaked as she climbed them. After her short tour she counted herself lucky the roof was intact, and someone had left a few cans of outdated soup in the cupboard along with some batteries. Magda cringed inwardly as she tried to clean up in the decrepit sink, as the only programs the radio or rusty tv could get where children's programs. Magda sat on the edge of the bath wondering if she'd died and was being punished . She barely swallowed the last cold greasy bite when her stomach rolled, and she prayed to the heavens that she wouldn't have to hug the filthy rusted thing that was the toilet and loose the only edible bit of nourishment around. As the master has decided it is done, will she learn, though? The woman whispered into the night before rowing back to the waiting ship.
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Yep, that's right a prelude to the prelude. No worries it will all make sense shortly. In game locations: Ea - Twinbrook & Les Champs Rflong - Flame Island, a tiny world with only one residential lot and a few commercial lots The house: Tudor Revival 20x30 4 bedroom, 2 bath tudor home for a renovacy. A gift for SamelaRita from JessaBeans. No 3rd Party CC or CaP. As noted above in the description created by simmer JessaBeans as part of the gift exchange. I've made a few minor adjustments, in the manner of missing floors/ceiling, and a few other minor details. That only added to the lovely abandoned building that JessaBeans had created. The cast of characters: As created by simmer AlphaFen
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