Chapter 1.3: Don't Do It

AN: this post contains some pictures of a NSFW nature

   It was evening. The bars were opened, clubbers were taking fully advantage of the night life, drinking, fucking and fighting. One of the locals had decided to throw a party in his apartment block, which Pandora heard about when visiting the Bridgeport festival grounds, and decided that nobody would be more welcome than her. She had jumped into the summer festival's spray tan booth, and ninety simoleons later came back out again with glowing golden skin.

   After running into the host in the elevator, the first person Pandora saw at the party was Moxie Logan. She knew that Moxie was close to several celebrities, so perhaps befriending her would get her started in becoming a celebrity herself.
   'Hi there,' Pandora greeted, flashing her most charming smile, determined to make a dazzling first impression.
   'Um, do I know you?' Moxie asked, shooting the blonde a distracted look. 'Why don't you come back when you think you can impress me?'
   Moxie stalked off before Pandora could say anything, leaving her open mouthed with rage. She stormed off angrily, and found a few people gathered in one room, listening to the sounds of one guest on the guitar. The others were happily dancing and chattering, and she saw one man by himself. Recognising him, she sauntered over and persuaded him to join in with the dancing.

   'Oh...hello,' he greeted, a little awkwardly, and began gyrating his body in rhythm with her. 'Pandora, wasn't it...?'

   'That's right,' she grinned. 

   'You're the wife of one of my new...acquaintances,' he stated.

   'You don't need to be so subtle, I know all about my husband's work.' She leant closer to his ear. 'You're a criminal, Mr Hemlock. I don't mind. How's life?'

   Wogan shrugged. Even if he felt comfortable in his current situation, he still would not particularly like discussing the intimate ins and outs of his marriage to a stranger, even if she was married to one of his workers, and a damn fine one at that. In truth, he and his wife had been having a lot of arguments as of late. But she did not need to know that. 

   'Fine. You?'

   She shrugged. 

   'Iggy and me aren't really seeing eye to eye recently,' she confessed. 'Maybe we should switch bodies; I'd probably see more of him - and in a good mood!' Pandora joked. 

   'I'm sorry to hear that.'

   'It's a rough patch. We'll get through it.' 

   As she danced, she crouched down to about waist height, while Wogan still stood tall. She craned her head up to look at him, and he was startled to see that her smile had turned flirty.

   He looked away, in case any of the other party goers got the wrong idea, and instead found himself fixating on her throat. 

   'Are you okay?' she inquired, when he glanced to the side.

   'Yes...thank you. I'm having fun,' he replied. 

   Moxie logan had returned, but if Pandora even noticed, she did not care. She found herself too entranced by her new found friend, having too much fun dancing the night away, and paid no attention to the other guests, in spite of thinking that crashing Beau Prattle-Merrick's party could potentially be a good way to meet some celebrities. 

   'Are you always in this good of a mood?' Wogan questioned. Then, as though he was contemplating saying the next words on his mind, he choked out, "I would love to hang out and get to know you better."

   'I'd love that too,' she told him. 

   'I don't care what anyone thinks. I think you're hot.'

   'You're not so bad yourself,' Pandora said, brushing off the implication that others might disagree with Wogan's attraction to her. Perhaps he simply was not so brilliant with words. 

   As their lips locked, she was slightly startled by how cold his were against her own. The voice of common sense saying "he's a vampire, what were you expecting?" was overridden by the voice of lust chanting "fuck him fuck him fuck him fuck him fuck him fuck him fuck him fuck him".

   Throughout their embrace, the pair were completely oblivious to the reactions of one other guest, who seemed to wholeheartedly support the extra-marital make out session. 

   Fortunately for the Kirby Wise, neither Pandora or Wogan noticed her stares, and she had gone off to do something else by the time they pulled apart. Pandora had caught sight of the clock and was surprised to see that it was already the small hours of the morning; they had spent most of the party dancing. Damn it. She started to take his hand and lead him towards the lift, considering a lot of party hosts seemed to have something against two guests committing adultery in their marital bed, when Wogan got cold feet.

   'I...I can't,' he muttered, and pulled away. 'Thank you for a lovely evening, but...I can't go any further.' 

   He left the party before the alluring witch could change his mind. Annoyed that he had gotten away, Pandora too slunk home. 

   She climbed out of bed the following morning and slouched into the living room still in her thong and corset number. 

   She decided to give practising her magical abilities an extra go, starting with transmuting an apple. It turned into a hunk of rock. A crappy tiny space rock, to be precise. Twenty one simoleons, pathetic. 

   '...A fish? Seriously? Some people can transmute useless shit into awesome things, like woohooium, or tiberium. I just get crappy alien rocks and stupid fish. Fuck.'

   A swish...

   A flick...

   ...And a fail. Pandora was grateful her husband was not in the room to gloat, considering how much shit she gave him for his own magical failure not too long ago. She started when the door opened, and Ignatius entered. He seemed in a good mood, the reason for which she had no idea of, nor the time to ask as he swooped her into his arms. 

   'Iggy!' she squealed, completely taken by surprise. 'What's gotten into you?'

   'Not the same thing that's going to get into you,' he replied, grinning lasciviously, as she rolled her eyes at his terrible innuendo. 

   Well, Wogan may not have been up for taking a tumble with her, but amazingly her husband was, so she was certainly not going to turn such an opportunity down. Sex with Ignatius was better than celibacy.

   'Let's go to the shower, milady.'

   'I could get used to this sort of treatment,' Pandora winked. 

   Half an hour later, Pandora cursed at the shower.

   'Stupid thing!' she grumbled, as gushing water spread across the bathroom tiles.

   'I guess we were a little too vigorous for it,' Ignatius chuckled. 'I'll fix it.'

   'Go Mrs de Venetia!' cheered the maid. 'Transmute, transmute, transmute!'

   '...Weirdo.'

   She looked at the rock that rested on the table, and felt a thrill of excitement.

   'Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, is that what I think it is?!'

   'That depends on what you think it is,' Ignatius called from his seat. 

   'Tiberium!'

   Ignatius got up and inspected the substance in question.

   '...No, darling. That's an emerald.'

   'Fuck!'

Ignatius went to practise his alchemy and tend to his modest garden, so Pandora decided to check out the mail and pay any bills. To her surprise, there was a letter nestling in there, address to her and written in unfamiliar handwriting. She frowned in confusion, and ripped the envelope open.

 

   "Oh sorry, I haven't been following the news. I guess I missed that there was an apocalypse and you are now the last Sim on Earth!

   -- Wogan Hemlock"

   'Oh my God, that's so cheesy,' Pandora snorted, feeling butterflies swoop around her stomach from getting a letter. Perhaps he was turning around after all. Maybe she could still snag him. Perhaps all he needed was a bit of extra persuasion...something more tempting than a kiss at a crowded party. 

   Keeping her enthusiasm in check in case she had to explain to her husband why she was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, she hurried upstairs, and set up her camera. 

   She pulled her most seductive face, positioned with her most seductive pose on the bed, and waited for the timer to go off. Once it did, she hastily got dressed again and snatched at the computer. 

   Then back to the kitchen, with a print out of her saucy snap, the original deleted from her digital camera, lest it be found by someone she did not want to see. Like Ignatius. Or worse still, the maid. She wrote a steamy love letter to Wogan and sent it, along with the picture print out, in the mail. She half wondered what would happen if his wife found it, but if Wogan thought nothing of mailing something incriminating to an address where Ignatius could have potentially found it, then she would be damned if she would worry about Morrigan Hemlock either. Being responsible was for other people. 

   She felt like causing a little bit more mischief once the letter was in the box, and practically skipped to the bathroom.

   A minute later, Ignatius' repairs were undone thanks to being struck by ice.

   She was growing restless. It was several days since she sent her letter off to Wogan, and had heard nothing back yet. She knew he was interested, his actions at the party confirmed that - so what the fuck was keeping him so long in his reply?! His wife, maybe? Ugh. 

   Ignatius was at work. But Wogan, being his boss, was obviously at a higher position in their career. So perhaps he had different hours. Maybe he would be at home. Perhaps he could visit. She rifled through Ignatius' things, hoping to find a number for Wogan, and immediately rang once she did. She was irritated that Wogan turned her invitation down, but on the other hand, she did not hear anything in the background. Maybe he was just having a night in by himself. Well, she knew what would make a night alone more interesting - her! She would go and visit him. 

   Pandora hurried out of the house with her broom, and flew across to the other side of Bridgeport to her lover's house. Once she was close, she got off and began to walk over, when she was distracted by something. 

   'What the fuck is that?'

   '...Oh...my...fuck...'

   Her brain was screaming at her to run, but her legs seemed not to want to obey. She knew that staying around would do no good, but there was nothing she could do; she was frozen on the spot, watching in horror as terror rose up inside her. 

   'Jesus Christ, no!' she howled, feeling herself being dragged inexorably higher and higher.

   'Somebody help me!' she screamed, her cries swallowed by the night. 

   It was several hours before anything else happened on the roadside. As suddenly as the UFO had appeared the first time, it did so again, two figures beaming down from it in a flash of green. 

   She felt shaky. She was not too certain what the hell had happened, and was not exactly about to go and ask the alien beside her for details of what had occurred during her time away. But she felt rather...probed. 

   Pandora did not turn around, not wanting to lock eyes with her kidnapper, and heard his space-suited feet slapping the ground as he ran. She had no idea about the visitor that Ignatius had insulted during one of their first nights in the city, and would never have thought that maybe, just maybe the two incidences were connected...

   She threw up her hands.

   'Fuck this entire city,' she muttered to herself. 

   '...Fuck it.'

   The idea of a late night rendezvous with Wogan had lost its appeal now, and so she made the trip back home alone, hoping that the aliens were done with her.