That's all for now. More updates to come! =)

Great updates.

Aww Stacy drove him to it. I see it as 100% her fault

lol, so do I.

This story is the best!

What a fabulous story!! I'm totally envious of your attention to detail, and the way you set your pics up so perfectly with all the right actions/expressions. Five star.

I'm glad you're enjoying the story. =)

I'm going to take a little break from the Dorian Verucio story in order to write some stories about other Simville residents. (While I'm tempted to play one family continuously, I try to alternate to keep everybody's age in sync).

You can check in post #2 of this thread for updates on any sim. ...Hopefully this will work out and the thread won't become confusing!

Thanks again to everyone who commented!

Most sims will tell you that, even after a lengthy absence from Simville, upon returning, they have found it to be exactly as it was when they left.

Every day is more or less the same in Simville. Schoolbuses and carpools arrive at the same time day after day. The town beautician, though well-intentioned, routinely gives horrendous makeovers, driving Simville's vainest residents to tears. Shop owners go about business as usual, hard-partying pleasure sims pass out on nightclub floors at sunrise, and romance sims awake in strange beds.

Though some might find it boring, others thrive on this predictability. The Picard siblings are an example of the latter.



Elizabeth and her brother Pierce inherited the family farm from their parents, who retired to the beach three years ago.

Everyone was pleased with this arrangement. Though they were farmers through and through, after forty years of hard work, Mrs. and Mr. Picard were more than content to take a well-deserved break and smustle on the beach. They trusted that their children were capable of running the farm on their own, so handing over the keys and walking away was an easy thing for them to do.

Pierce was grateful to his parents for doing so. He'd grown up on the farm, and was proud that his parents had enough confidence in him to leave their prized possession in his and his sister's care. Though farm life often involved long days and hard physical labor, his parents had instilled in him a strong work ethic, so he didn't mind. Farm life was all he'd ever known, and all he cared to know.



His sister Elizabeth was content to stay on the family farm, too, but for different reasons. She was very shy and somewhat reclusive, so was relieved to be able to isolate herself on the family property, and be spared the terrifying ordeal of going off into "the real world" as most people do when they reach a certain age.



The old farmhouse was in excellent condition, considering its age, and was more than big enough for the siblings to share comfortably.



The property was located near the old Simville windmill, right on the edge of town. The Picards lived close enough to town to allow Pierce to scoot over in his truck any time he liked, yet far enough away to placate Elizabeth's social anxiety.



Pierce did the vast majority of the hard physical labour. This was what he was good at, and what he enjoyed. He tended to the crops, cared for the animals, serviced the vehicles and machinery, and repaired anything and everything that required repairing.



It was time consuming and exhausting, but Pierce ate, slept, and breathed farm life, and wouldn't trade it for anything.



When he did manage to get a break, he liked to drive into town and hang out at the Simville Community Center. He was always up for a little poker, pool, or a chat at the sports bar. He wasn't the most refined person, nor the most intelligent, but he had a friendly, kind way about him that people embraced.



Elizabeth, of course, never joined Pierce on his trips into town. Though he tried his best to bring her out of her shell, she always declined his invitations, opting instead to stay at home.



When her brother was out, it gave her ample opportunity to indulge in her two favourite secret passtimes...

Well, one of Elizabeth's favorite passtimes wasn't exactly a secret:

She was a compulsive overeater.



She'd always been that way. She liked to cook, loved to eat, and had lots of free time on her hands. You or I might call up a friend or go out when bored, but not Elizabeth. She was so shy that those simply weren't options for her.

Since Elizabeth didn't go out or do much of...anything, she often found herself bored. To fill the time, she baked.



And when she finished baking, she sampled it...several times over.



Since Pierce was responsible for 99% of the outdoor activities, this left Elizabeth in charge of the house. She kept the house tidy, made sure the bills were paid on time, and always had a hot - and elaborate - meal ready for her brother when he came in from a hard day's work.



(Pierce grew the tastiest fruits and vegetables in Simville, and his sister knew tons of delicious recipes that called for all of them, so together, they made a good team).



He enjoyed her cooking and ate heartily, but always finished long before his sister. This is because she always went back for seconds...and usually thirds.



Pierce worried about her a little. She'd gained a lot of weight in recent years, and he hoped it wouldn't affect her health.

He tried to encourage her to help him outside, knowing that the fresh air and exercise would do her good...heck, just getting out of the house would be a good thing for her!

But, even if he was able to convince her to do anything physical, she wasn't in very good shape, so tired easily. Most of the time, she just ended up curling up on the hammock and having a nap.



Elizabeth knew that little by little, she was killing herself, but she wasn't sure how to break the cycle. She'd indulged in her bad habits for so long that it had become difficult to imagine living any other way.

Elizabeth's other favorite passtime was chatting on the Internet.



Initially, she'd started using the Internet so that she could bank online - it allowed her to avoid having to deal with anyone face-to-face, which appealed to her immensely.

Similarly, the Internet allowed Elizabeth to socialize without ever having to actually have any human contact. She felt more confident when she could hide behind the computer screen. One she discovered chat rooms, she was instantly addicted.



At first, she'd aimlessly wandered from chat room to chat room, enjoying the anonymity the Internet provided. After a while, though, she'd worked up her nerve and made herself known to the other chatters.

She was surprised by how easy it was for her to make friends online. On the computer, she felt like people didn't judge her. She could finally be herself. She finally felt like socializing was something pleasurable and rewarding rather than a dreaded - and terrifying - chore. As long as it took place online, that is.

She "met" one person in particular whose friendship she valued a lot.

His screen name was Craig25, and she couldn't believe how nice he was.



He constantly told her how funny and clever she was, and said that he loved chatting with her. She loved chatting with him, too, and found herself thinking about him a lot.

His flattery helped her work up the nerve to finally send him some pictures of herself; something she normally wouldn't have been daring enough to do.

Maybe the Internet is to nerds what alcohol is to alcoholics, in a way? For Elizabeth, it was certainly a method of coping with her insecurities, and it made her bolder than she thought possible.

...Maybe a little too bold for her own good?



It didn't help that her brother walked into the room as she was posing for a picture in her underpants. Talk about embarrassing.

"Ew, Lizzy...what are you doing?!" Pierce demanded, simultaneously disgusted at the sight of his sister in her underwear and amused at catching her making a fool of herself.



"Don't you ever knock anymore?!" she retorted, her cheeks reddening.



He smirked. "It's my room, genius. Now get out...and please put some clothes on, for the love of God!"



Elizabeth was mortified, but sent the silly picture of her dancing around in her underpants to Craig25 anyway.

Immediately, she regretted doing so. What would he think of the way she looked? Would he think she was ugly? Would he want to stop talking to her after he saw her picture? Why didn't she send him a fake picture of someone thinner and prettier?



She waited for his reply anxiously, her heart pounding.

Then the message field started blinking.

He'd replied.

Clenching the mouse tightly in her sweaty fist, she frantically clicked on the window to see what he'd written.

"U R PRETTY," it said.

OMG...

He thought she was pretty!

Shortly after that, he had to sign off. Normally, Elizabeth would have been sad to see him leave for the night, but this time she was too excited for that! He'd called her pretty!!!



Fanning herself lightly as she climbed out of the computer chair, she began to plan the next email she was going to send to him...

It took all evening for Elizabeth to work up her nerve, but finally, she signed back on and wrote an email to Craig25:




Craig25,

I :valentine chatting 2 u & I bet we'd get along well in person. Want 2 meet 4 coffee?

~Elizabeth




Anxiously, Elizabeth hit "refresh" over and over in hopes that Craig25 had replied.

She waited...



...and waited...



...and waited.



Just as she was about to give up for the night and go back to sleep, Craig25 signed on.

"I'd love 2 meet u 4 coffee," he typed. "4 p.m. @ Java Hut tomorrow?"



Elizabeth was thrilled!

In less than 15 hours, she was going to meet Craig25!

She just hoped she wouldn't get nervous and make a bad first impression...

I thought I'd try something a little different!

The next day, Elizabeth could hardly wait for 4 p.m. She was both looking forward to it and dreading it. What would Craig think of her? Would he hug her hello? Would he think she was pretty when he saw her in person? Would he want to date her?

She hurried downtown to the Java Hut, a small shack across from Sim Falls that served delicious expresso. Sitting down at an empty table, she looked around anxiously.

Was Craig25 that guy standing at the counter?



Or was he running late?

He wouldn't stand her up...would he?

As she sat, she began to worry.



What if he didn't recognize her, and thought she'd stood him up?

Or what if he'd been hit by a car as he was crossing the street to get to the Java Hut? Okay, so that would be pretty unlikely...but still, how tragic! And romantic! Sigh.



What were those girls at the next table so giggly about?

Elizabeth was uncomfortable. It almost felt like they were laughing at her. But she was probably just being paranoid...stupid social anxiety.



Elizabeth felt pretty stupid sitting at a table all by herself - she didn't even have a cup of coffee!



Most people probably wouldn't be bothered by something as minute as that, but Elizabeth wasn't most people: she was Ms. Self Conscious.



That meant that she had the ability to be insecure about really stupid things. Lucky her!

Okay, she wasn't imaginging it after all.



Those two teenaged girls really did seem to be laughing at her expense.

What on earth..? Elizabeth tried to discreetly study them out of the corner of her eye, and determined that she didn't know either one of them. So what was going on?



Then she overheard the girl with the ponytail say the name "Craig25." Once again, the girls erupted in laughter.

"Oh my God Jossalyn, you are like, sooo funny!" her friend gasped through her laughter, banging her fist on the table. "I can't believe you went online and pretended to be a 25 year old guy, you geek!"

The Jossalyn girl smirked. "I think I made her fall for 'Craig' too," she announced loudly, and pointed right at Elizabeth.



Elizabeth was mortified. She was frozen to her seat. She couldn't get up. She wanted to; she wanted to leap up and run away from there as fast as she could, back to the safety of her isolated farm. But she may as well have superglued her behind to the chair, because try as she might, she couldn't seem to move.

Or she couldn't until she overheard Jossalyn say, "wait until I show you the picture she sent me, hahaha!"



That got Elizabeth moving faster than she thought she was capable of moving!



She leapt out of her seat and tried to hide her face.



She frantically hurried away from the coffee stand, and those cruel girls, who were still laughing hysterically.

After she'd walked a block or so, she had to stop to catch her breath.



Embarrassed and angry, Elizabeth tried to choke back her tears.



How could she have been so naive? Why hadn't she been more careful? And why oh why had she sent that stupid picture?!



Elizabeth found herself sad that 'Craig' didn't actually exist. Maybe that was pathetic, but she'd fallen hard for the imaginary 25 year old guy on the Internet. Probably because he was the first guy who'd ever paid any attention to her.



Finally, Elizabeth spotted a pay phone, and called a taxi to take her home.



She felt lower than low, and more than ever, wished she were invisible.



More than anything, she wished she hadn't left the protective bubble of the farm that afternoon.

Good story! Please do continue it :D

I love your stories! Please update soon! :P

Those girls were so cruel!

I hope that Elizabeth DOES find a REAL love of her life. But I guess that might be for a future chapter ...

Really good story, I'm enjoying it.

Auroraspirit :angel:

When Elizabeth finally arrived back at the farm, she immediately went on a three day cooking/eating spree. Since the Craig thing didn't work out, she figured she may as well have a love affair with food, instead.



Elizabeth ate and ate until she literally passed out from exhaustion, landing face first in a fluffy, rich, two-tier cake.



When she awoke, she immediately began stuffing her face some more.



Of course, no human being is capable of consuming that much sugar without getting sick. By the time Elizabeth finally stopped eating, however, it was too late. She ran to the bathroom clutching her rumbling tummy, moaning in agony.



Unfortunately, by the time she was finished emptying the contents of her stomach, she only felt worse.



She began to undress so she could take a bath, but partway though, decided she didn't have the energy to climb into the tub. Instead, she waddled outside in her underwear and collapsed on the front porch amidst the remnants of her cooking marathon.



It certainly wasn't Elizabeth's most dignified moment, and she was well aware of it.

Miserable, she drifted in and out of a restless sleep, her slumber plagued by dreams of oven mits and spatulas.



Her substantial belly felt so full that she couldn't get comfortable, so awoke frequently. Everytime she regained consciousness, Elizabeth was reminded of the humiliating Internet incident.



Then, all of a sudden, a shadow fell across her large frame, causing her to open her eyes in alarm.



As she squinted up into the blazing mid-afternoon sun, she saw an older, distinguished looking man smiling down at her.



Elizabeth immediately sat up, then groaned and clutched her bloated belly in discomfort.

"Who are you?" she demanded, startled.

The man informed Elizabeth that his name was Dominic, and that he'd been passing by the farm when he'd seen her lying motionless on the front porch. Concerned, he'd stopped to make sure she was all right.

Elizabeth flushed and mumbled that she was fine, then excused herself to go get dressed. She hoped he'd take a hint and go away, but no such luck. Instead, he followed her into the house, chatting away.



"Mmm, something in the kitchen smells exquisite!" he exclaimed, and poked his head into the cozy room.

"Wow, that's a lot of food!" he laughed upon seeing the platters of cakes, cookies, pies, cheesecakes, and tarts. "Did you make all of this yourself?"



Elizabeth nodded sheepishly, hoping he wouldn't guess that she'd also eaten most of it herself!

Fortunately, if he thought that, he kept it to himself. Instead, he grinned appreciatively and told her he was impressed. "These days, it seems like no one cooks anymore! Everything is fast food or TV dinners...it's refreshing to meet someone who knows her way around a kitchen!"



Somehow, despite her debilitating shyness, Elizabeth found it easy to talk to Dominic. He was a little odd, but his quirkiness put her at ease. He talked a mile a minute, and seemed very charming.



Normally, Elizabeth found it difficult to talk to people because she worried that she had nothing interesting to say. But, Dominic made it clear that she wasn't boring him, because he seemed to hang on her every word. He even seemed to enjoy hearing about all her favorite recipes!

Elizabeth decided to take a chance.

Steeling herself for yet another rejection, she courageously blurted out, "I could cook for you sometime...uh, if you want, that is."



She half expected Dominic to laugh in her face like those two snooty teenaged girls at the coffee shop had. She cringed and waited....

But instead, he said, "I was hoping you'd say that!" and chuckled. "I'm afraid I'll be out of the country all this week on business. But I'd very much like to keep in touch, and take you up on that offer when I get back to Simville."



Elizabeth was ecstatic! She had a date...well, almost. At least she knew that this guy was really a guy! =P



Elizabeth and Dominic exchanged email addresses, and then he vanished into the night as abruptly as he'd arrived. Elizabeth just couldn't stop smiling! ...She just hoped that meeting Dominic hadn't just been some wacky sugar-induced hallucination!

While Elizabeth Picard's weakness was food, Vincent Verucio's was drink.

The forty-something year old former poker world champion was now nothing more than a pathetic drunk. He'd lost everything; his house, his career, his dignity...

These days, he was living in Simville Park.



He owned a roll of toilet paper and a flimsy tent, and that was about it.



Well, except for what he hid around the campground...but he didn't like to acknowledge those things.



They were his shame, his passion, his reason for living. Yes, Vincent Verucio definitely had a love/hate relationship with alcohol.

Carefully hidden behind his tent was a small area where he made his own wine.



Why did Vince take such pains to hide his alcohol? Well, there were two reasons.

The first was as simple as not wanting to be fined. Alcohol wasn't allowed in Simville Park, and the penalties were harsh. Vince knew he couldn't afford a $100 fine, and certainly didn't want to end up in jail, so was cautious about keeping his booze a secret.

The second reason was his family.



Most people would have given up on Vince long ago, but not the Verucios. His sister-in-law, Hilary, was very devoted, and brought him a picnic lunch every day to make sure he didn't go hungry.

She and the rest of the family were so good to him that he hated to let them down by revealing to them the extent of his alcohol addiction.



Besides, in recent months, Hilary had really started to age, and seemed haggard and frail. Vince had a feeling she wasn't well, and certainly didn't want to add to her condition by causing her any stress.



It was a good thing that Hilary was so considerate and devoted, because truth be told, if she didn't go out of her way to feed him, Vince probably wouldn't eat most days. He was content to live on his homemade booze, blissfully oblivious to the fact that he was slowly wasting away.



Most days, he'd just lie in his tent, serenely listening to the sounds of the park: the wind rustling through the trees, birds happily chirping, and the faint rumblings of motor vehicles off in the distance.



But Vince wasn't unhappy. As long as he had a drink in his hand, that is.

This particular afternoon, Vince Verucio was a very happy camper (!) indeed.

He'd made a little cash by selling the wildflowers he'd picked in the park at Simville Market. He'd earned just enough to be able to afford some booze.



As he sat on an old tree stump and enjoyed his alcohol, he started thinking about his life.



Sometimes he was really ashamed of himself for letting his addiction run his life. Sometimes he even thought about quitting cold turkey, and getting a regular job, and pulling his life back together.

Luckily, he was usually cured of those crazy thoughts by his third or fourth beer.



He might be an alcoholic, but that didn't make him a bad person. Anyone who looked deep into his eyes would see that he was the same person he'd always been...just one who drinks a lot more.



He was still the same guy who'd helped out his brother and sister-in-law in times of crisis, opening his home and heart to their family. He'd helped to raise those kids, had put food on their table when his brother and sister-in-law couldn't afford to...

No, he wasn't a bad person.

He was just sick.



"Uncle Vince?" A familiar voice cut through his hazy train of thought.

As he blinked and tried to clear his head, Vince was surprised to find himself slumped on the ground. Funny, he couldn't remember slipping off the tree stump he'd been sitting on...



He hoisted himself up unsteadily, cursing under his breath as he spilled some of his precious beer in the process.



His niece Darly stood in front of him, looking concerned.



"Uncle Vince, are you okay?" she asked, her eyes wide.

He smiled reassuringly, and, with all the coordination he could muster, set his half-empty booze can down.



"I'm fine, honey," he promised, trying his best not to slur his words. "But enough about me...how are you?! I haven't seen you in so long!"



Darly tried to smile, but found it hard. Now that she was finally seeing where her uncle lived firsthand, she wanted to cry.

"I'm sorry I haven't been to see you until now, Uncle Vince," Darly apologized. "I've been away. I don't know if you, uh, know, but I'm a singer now. I was on tour..." Darly was pacing, obviously anxious. Vince doubted she was even aware that she was doing it.



"Awh honey, that's great," Vince said proudly. "I always knew you had talent, right from the time you started standing up in your crib at night and singing at the top of your lungs. You'd wake the others, and we'd have three screaming toddlers on our hands at 3 a.m..." he trailed off.

Somehow, talking about old times depressed him.

He couldn't believe how grown up Darly and the others were now. She wasn't the insecure little girl who stole her sister's friends anymore. These days, she was a confident, independent young lady who didn't need him anymore.

No one needed him anymore.



Darly quickly changed the subject. "I've met someone, Uncle Vince. He's a record producer, and we're...well, we're seeing each other. I can bring him by tomorrow, if you want, so you can meet him - "

Vince cut her off abruptly, though not unkindly. "No, no," he said quickly. "It means a lot to me that you came down here to see me, honey. Awh, you even ripped your dress on those thistles," he observed guiltily. "The last thing I want is to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend, too," he told her firmly.



Choking back tears, Darly nodded helplessly. "Okay, Uncle Vince," she said, her voice shaking a little. "If that's what you want."

Yikes. He was really upsetting the poor girl. Vince didn't know what was so horrible about his living conditions, but apparently it was driving his usually upbeat niece to tears.



He loved seeing her, but he didn't want to put her through this kind of torment.

"Listen, honey," he began decidedly. "It was great of you to come see me. But it looks like rain...you'd better get home before it starts storming."



Sure enough, the sky was darkening, and heavy black clouds loomed overhead threateningly.

Darly hesistated, then hugged her uncle goodbye. It was sweet of her, Vince thought, to pretend that he didn't smell like someone who hasn't had a proper shower in over two weeks.



Vince saw her off to her car. It wasn't just any car, either; it was bright red, shiny, fancy sports car. Those didn't come cheap, Vince thought, as his fuzzy brain automatically began calculating how many beers that car could buy...

Darly turned around just before she reached her car, and hurried back.



"Uncle Vince, why don't you come back to Mom's with me?" she suggested, her voice nearly drowned out by the roaring thunder overhead.

He thanked her, but declined. He also politely declined her offer of money, despite knowing that his beer supply had nearly run out. He didn't want to be a burden, and he certainly didn't want to throw away the money she'd earned.



Moments after Darly reluctantly drove away, the storm began.

Aww, poor Vince...and those horrible girls at the cafe! I can't stand people like that.
Great updates though, I'm really enjoying this story.

Those girls were so horrible and Vince! in the first sereis he seemed so happy in the park but now he's ashamed and its so sad