TigerAnne

Malcolm returned right after nightfall with a backpack and two large bags made from shiny material. "I found you some new duds," he said. "Lucky I have a boy only slightly older than that one," he pointed at Ulric. "He refuses to wear anything his grandmother knits, so he won't miss the sweaters, and the pants were already too short. As for yourself, and the older two, I have personally been diving into all the containers around town  where people leave clothes for charity. I'm sure some of it fits." "Thank you, Malcolm. It's much too kind of you!" said James, as he started digging through the contents. "Over here, boys! Let's dress up like

Chapter  Two: Some explainations are in order. "But Dad," said Ulric, "Uncle Malcolm can't have disappeared. He must have been here all the time." Malcolm looked mighty uncomfortable, standing there on the front porch, surrounded by peasants. "You can't let anyone see you like this," he finally said. "Come with me, I know somewhere you can hide out." He motioned them towards the white metal cart, and told them to get in the back. James was wondering what sort of animal his brother used for pulling the thing. It looked too heavy for a pair of mules or a single horse. Malcolm climbed into the little room in front. "I hope it's a dragon cart

Author's Notes: I've read many fics inspired by computer games lately. Myself, I don't play WoW, Guild Wars or even Kingdom Hearts, but I felt inspired to write about the characters I've made in Sims 3. This is not really a Sims fanfic, so Bella and Mortimer won't be making appearances, for example. It's not a story about the game, only about the characters the way they've turned out. What this is, is insanity. Pure and simple. "Enjoy." Chapter One: People who behave badly. In a medieval village, somewhere that resembles Merry Olde England... He had to admit that the Queen of Fairies was awfully pretty when she was angry. If only it had

"Adeleine!" The voice calling our her name was the one she least wanted to hear. It was the voice of her father, this man she no longer knew. "Adie," her father said, smiling as if this was a happy encounter. "It's so good to see you! " "Dad..." Adeleine replied hesitantly, wishing so hard that this didn't have to take place on a public street. Don't draw attention. Act casually. Don't make this any harder than it already is. "I heard about your school project," he said.  "You must be so proud. I'm so proud! I always said you were going to go far." "No," Adeleine replied, focusing on keeping her voice steady.  "Dad, we can't talk. Not he