The Wicked Magician's Orphanage: A Sims 3 Challenge LP

[Deme]

...I think I may have an LPing problem. Anyway, while I have several revival plans in the works at the moment, this one's going to be largely unscheduled, done whenever I feel like it, since I find working on it pretty easy. Since the first prologue was written almost half a year before the second, that's what this might be like (Note: The reason for the delay was due to the announcement of an expansion pack that would let me make my magician a witch, which I thought was a must.)

Like my Immortal Dynasty Challenge, this one is based on a particular ruleset from Carl and Pam's The Sims 3 Forum, which plays host to a lot of challenges and project rules for The Sims 3; I'm also posting this there, since that makes sense. Which means I have a few chapters pre-written, and will be posting about as fast I get feedback, at first.

The Project Rules

Dramatis Personae

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The Magician, a black magician.
Real Name Unknown ("Oh, I misplaced it some time ago. Don't Worry about it. I certainly don't.")
Age: 1000. ish.
Species: Witch
Traits: Evil, Diva, Childish, Natural Born Performer, Friendly (Who'da thunk?)
Favorites: Classical, Lobster Thermidor, Black
Objectives: To be Less Bored, To Do Less Work
Bear's name: HE SHALL HAVE ALL THE BEARS, MWAHAHAHA!

Willow Whisp, a dandelion (lowest of the low) rank fairy.
Lifetime wish in a state of self-denial.
Age: Green
Species: Fairy
Traits: Good, Clumsy, Nuturing, Green Thumb, Natural Cook
Favorites: Songwriter, Fruit Parfait, Yellow
Objectives: To Be Less Incompetent, To Become Respectable, To Prevent Disaster.
Bear's Name: Is too old for toy bears

Izanami, The First Orphan
Sometimes called "Little Minion." Cries at odd hours.
Age: Infant
Species: Human
Traits: Virtuoso, Light Sleeper
Favorites: Kid's Music, Veggie Rolls, Aqua
Objectives: To Grow Up Well, To Wake Up The House
Bear's Name: It's named next Chapter -- Witch Bear

Characters will Be Listed In Order of Appearance

Table of Contents

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The Second Prologue: In Which We Get a Small Look at Failure, Learn Not to Sweat Details, and a Fairy Chooses

Week 1:
Chapter 1: In Which Our Heroes (Or Whatever) Arrive in Monte Vista, A Stump Is Compared To Certain Vital States, And a Minion Arrives

The First Prologue: In Which There Is a Small Primer on White and Black Magic, Ennui, and a Sorceror's Choice

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It is said that a good magician never reveals his tricks...And an evil magician never reveals that there was ever a trick in the first place.
If that is the case, then there once lived a magician in the high mountains...


Who would have been a sorceror of great legend, who had lived 1000 years... And had never revealed to have performed a single trick or cast a single spell.

Of course, that's not true, and it's not true for the reasons implied. But there was something to it -- it was rather because black magic was not magic that produced wonder; it was magic that was only meant for the heart of the sorceror.


And this sorceror, who lived in his mountain tower alone, cast black magic like that -- magic that had provided for him for 1000 years, often at the cost of others. It gave him all happiness...
Except that there was no black magic that could give him companionship. And that had suited The Magician just fine.

The wizard stared at his completed potion with a dull expression.
"How dull. I've done that one before... Nothing helps. Time to face the facts, old boy..."

"I am in the grip..." He sighed dramatically "...of ennui."

He flopped about for a while, trying to find some way to entertain himself. He could call up his friends!...Except that that the last one had ended up on his altar 70 years ago. How did this happen? He used to be so sociable!
He stopped flopping and began pacing. Yes, there was no denying it. He was...unhappy.

"...I....I don't know what to do. I'm 1000 years old. I've reached the ultimate height of UNLIMITED ARCANE POWER! I am a man of wealth and taste...And I'm sick of it."

The fact of the matter was, the more he thought, the unhappier he became. As he considered it, the past he considered warm and happy became cold and grey.
"It's foul magic... ALL MAGIC ONE DAY BETRAYS ITS MASTER!"
He screamed to the heavens. This did not make him feel less bored, suprisingly. He normally quite enjoyed screaming to the heavens.

He sighed bitterly and settled into his chair. In the news... He read a story. It was the story of a very selfish young lady and a very selfish young man... Who were thrust from their money-lined nests and forced to start an orphanage to earn it back.

It had everything -- redemption and happiness and sacrifice, valuable lessons and self-improvement... And, to the Sorceror's refined surprise, some magic. Yes, there was definate, pure, white magic at the heart of the story.

"...Hmmm....An Orphanage?"

He had, once, known a White Magician -- long ago, when magic met less resistance -- who had worked with orphans. You know the sort of story; very Horatio Algers. A little orphan meets a mysterious person who swoops them up into an adventure, leaving them better than when they started (and often richer).
The White Magician had said it was wonderfully, satisfying work. The Sorceror had laughed in his face and they'd gotten back to their magical duel. The Sorceror never knew a White Magician for very long.

But now he wondered.

"Could it be that those namby-pamby good guys were right all along? That I'm unhappy...Because I've never done...Good? Never been a Good Guy?"
He did not know how to process this idea. After a while, he decided on something.


"I...SHALL BE A GOOD GUY!" He declared, hamming it up for no one in particular. "At least until I get bored. I'll give it a while. I shall personally enrich the lives of orphans, small children, and suchnot!"

He seemed thrilled with the notion. Oh, sure, he had no idea where he would get orphans (well, it's not like they were hard to make...), but he figured he could manage it all himself. He scurried about, creating a checklist of possibly good-guy sounding goals.

Eventually, a though occured.

"Wait. Wait. Waaaaaaiiiiit. Wait. I don't want to actually touch babies while personally bringing joy into the lives of orphans! I need... a stooge. I mean, assistant."

He nodded. Yes, anything that added into his plan to be good to remove his boredom, made it more complex, was obviously more fun.

"This will be quite fun, and I'm sure I will do excellently! Look out, hapless assistants! Look out, orphans and soon-to-be-orphans of the world!"
...You got that right.

[Loki_42]

This sounds great. I loved your Long Live the Queen LP, and I can't wait for this to get rolling.

[Fallen Angel]

Have they put back PlantSims?

I want some of those. (For the slaves for my garden.)

And magic sounds wonderful. I like it.

[Deme]

Sadly, they have not: but Seasons brought back aliens, so that's a thing.


The Second Prologue: In Which We Get a Small Look at Failure, Learn Not to Sweat Details, and a Fairy Chooses

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So it came to pass that the magician elected to seek out a stooge -- he meant, assistant. Really. Just a slip of the narration, pay it no mind.
Of course...That came with troubles, too. After all, he was a wicked magician, whose name was the subject of whispers and whose heart was the subject of nightmares. He tried asking at a nanny service. The woman wouldn't come out from under her desk.
He tried asking


"How terrible," said the Magician. "It's almost as if being evil...Has consequences."

This idea was strange and frightening. Consequences happened to other people, usually in the form of him. Consequences happened to black magicians who weren't clever enough.

He thought about it for a long, long time. And then he realized that there was a sort of person who could help him.


"A do-gooder! A sap! And I will be all 'Oh, woe is me, I am a soul of darkness in need of restoration to the light!' and She will be all 'Oh, yes! Whatever I can do to help, you poor misguided soul!' And then I shove her with the work!"

He wondered briefly if his tendency to act ideas out via hand puppets was what made people so nervous, but he dismissed it. They were just handy visual aides.

"Yes, yes! I am as brillaint as I am incredibly sexy! Let's. Get. To. It."

It'd take a little magic, but he was sure: he could find exactly what he wanted, somewhere in the woods... There were fairies out there who couldn't resist a good godmothering.

***


Exactly what he wanted had a name. It was Willow Whisp. She was the faerie who dropped the morning dew, leaving odd puddles on the ground in an otherwise dry field. She was the faerie who blushed and tried to cover herself when spotted in her uniform, which she paired with sensible sneakers. She was a faerie who the court didn't know what to do with: she tried so hard...And it came to nothing, every time.


She was a girl who fell as often as she flew...And so people had long ago stopped asking her to fly.


At that time, she was looking for a way to get by.
"The court won't keep covering my expenses..." She muttered, sighing into her paper.

That was when a man came up beside her and joined her on the park bench.

"Excuse me, Miss," Said the stranger. "If I could have a moment of your time."
"O-of course." She wondered if he was here to say something about her outfit; she couldn't help it if the court picked such a tiny uniform!


"I need some help with a project...A project of the utmost importance. And you might be the fairy I need. Do you like children?"
She did.

"But what sort of project could you want with me? Who are you?"

The magician made a show of looking hesitant and ashamed.

"I...am a black magician."

"You're evil?!"


"I'm afraid so...But wait, please, listen!"
He placed a hand on her hand.
"I want to change! To bring wonder to the lives of the innocent, care for orphans, and all that ju --"
He noticed her glare.
"Was I about to say junK? Silly me, I meant jazz. Ha-ha. I'd like to run an orphanage."

He sighed dramatically.
"But I have never been Good, and never known kindness...I...do not know how to be good! And so, dear fairy, I need your help! I need the guidance of an elegant -- and might I add charming -- creature of light like yourself! Please!"


"You're my only hope!"

Willow gave the matter some thought. On the one hand, she didn't really think this guy was on the up-and-up. But letting a Black Magician work with children? Ugh. No way.
On the other hand...She wasn't sure she'd do much better.
On a fourth hand, the secret hand of the deliberative goddess... If she did this, if it worked...Maybe the court would respect her. Maybe she'd get a higher rank. Maybe she'd get...Proper wings! And all the humiliation would be behind her...

"Of course, you'd be working with and for me, so you could have your choice of uniform."


"Mister," she said, "You've got a deal."

"Oh, goody! Yes! Hooray!"
He spun in circles and laughed.

"The sky's the limit, my dear! The sky's the limit!"

Willow paused.
"Hey, where is this orphanage?"
"Psshaw. Mere details, to be worked out in time. Don't concern yourself with them."

"...Uhhh...Where am I getting this outfit, anyway?"
"Details, details."

...Well, could it really be any worse than that time she turned a pumpkin into an exploded pumpkin when that girl needed a carriage?

"...What's even your name?"
"I said, don't concern yourself with petty details! We have an orphanage to start!"

...Probably.

[Aidan305]

I have no objections to you having an LP problem. It means that I get more brilliant LPs to read.

[Deme]

Chapter 1: In Which Our Heroes (Or Whatever) Arrive in Monte Vista, A Stump Is Compared To Certain Vital States, And a Minion Arrives

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Money had been a problem, and The Magician was still trying to work out why. It was not that he didn't have money. It was that Willow had kept insisting he didn't use it. Something about "ill-gotten gains." Nevermind that if he had just broken a few fingers off of his golden statue collection, they'd have lived in an opulent mansion! It's not like the statues would have noticed; they weren't using those fingers anymore!
But no. They had to do things the good way, and this involved apparently using only a tiny fraction of his immense personal fortune, and leave the rest to rot in his tower.


This was what the remainder bought him.

"...Is that a wrecked car?" He whined.
"It's a fixer-upper. But it's all honest!" Willow, filled with a probably insincere cheer, replied. He could not imagine she was that cheerful sincerely. "I've never had my own place!"
"...Oh, the things I must endure in the name of goodness." He sighed.


Honest money provided little furnishing, it seemed.


"...This," The magician declared, "Is my life. This stump. Is. My Life!"

On the other hand, Willow was getting something she always wanted...

A new, modest outfit.


"Oh, come on! What are you, a hipster?"
"What?...No! This is just...comfy."
"It's frumpy! You have no taste."


"No taste? What about you, Mr. Fancy scarf? You couldn't give up broaches, but we're living like paupers!"
"Unlike some people, I am a man of class and sophistication!...And besides, this broach was my mother's!" This was what is commonly called "A lie."
"Hmph!"
"Hur-umph!"


"If you're going to be such a hot-head," Willow said with a bitter smile, "Let's see how you like it literally!"
But to Willow's surpise...When he stopped spurting fire, the Magician began to laugh.
"That was...Actually not bad magic! I've decided to re-learn from first principles, so my reprisal may be slow...Still, that's some unexpected darkness! We'll see who converts who."
And he strolled out, laughing.

"...I just goofed, didn't I?" Willow sighed. "I don't know if I can count on him...I'll need a way of getting food, if we'll have kids to take care of."


"I doubt I can really count on her...Our money problems may, though, be a fine opportunity to begin my studies in white magic! What's more wondrous to children than a magician on stage, right?"


"Madam, I would like to become...a professional magician."

He wondered why there couldn't have been a dramatic chord to accompany that. It certainly felt dramatic.

"You may consider me...The Magician's Magician."


White magicians, he mused, have the dumbest outfits.

Meanwhile...

"Fairies are supposed to be good at gardening...I bet I could have a knack, and it'll put food on the table until we find something better."
And so she bought some seed plants, to begin her own garden...

Meanwhile...

"And how do you like that trick, my dear lady?"
Kaela Bianchi said she liked it -- and him -- quite a bit. But the Mr. Bianchi on the blanket behind the Magician? Probably less than pleased.


Willow found a little space for a garden, amongst the weeds and junk. And counted herself lucky, too.


"It's what I'm here for, after all -- one bit of wonder brought to a child. This stuff will be a breeze!"


"...But I still like *my* brand of pulling things from children much, much better. Aaaah, Watermelon flavored."

After the day was spent, the two regrouped to discuss their goings-on.

"You got a job? Really?...It's not an evil job, is it?" Willow asked.
"It's a job as a performance artiste, thank you very much!"
"Performance artiste?"
"I perform magic for the masses; it's part of my plans to explore white magic, thank-you-very much!"
She sighed with relief.
"Well, at least that'll put money in our war chest...I guess now we should worry about finding some orphans."

The Magician clapped in response.
"Oh, goody! Where do we get them? The orphan store?"
"...Seriously?"
"Do I have to make some? I'm really quite good at making orphans."
"NO! Being good does not involve making orphans!"
"Are you sure? Because there seems to be a lot of them in good-guy stories."

Willow massaged her temples.
"Ok...I'll call social services this time, see if they've got anything coming down the foster home shute. We'll get to it in the morning."

"Excellent...Soon, my plan will come to fruition! MWAHAAHAHAHAHAAHA!"

And outside, the rain fell on their first night.

Day 2


The social-worker drops off little Izanami, virtuoso and a light sleeper.
Yeah, there's gonna be trouble.


"Hello! Welcome to the fold, tiny future minion! I shall fill you with wonder and you will do my bidding! How does that sound?"
But you know...He's actually not bad with a kid.


"You don't have to do anyone's bidding if you don't want to, OK?"
Though Willow's the more natural caretaker. He goes out for a few hours, but can't find a good place to get tips...


So Willow tries to find her own solution to their money troubles by pilfering the local greenhouse.


"Ha-ha! Soon, I will have a mechanical fish army!...To sell."
Turning them into fish is, of course, The Magician's idea.
"And you can sell the bowl, too!"


All that magic wears an evil magician out, so...Candy break! In-between all the other evening tending for Izanami (He wouldn't want us to see that.)
"You owe it to me for helping you, Tiny Minion."

Their funds are on the rebound from robo-fish, so The Magician adds what he thinks counts...

"Toys! Every kid needs toys."
"Can we really afford..."
"EVERY KID. And also me, because I made the robot-fish in the fish-bowl that made it possible."
"...You need toys."
"I got a little witch-bear. Lookitthat. Lookatit! It's better than all the other bears because its mastery of magic gives it a place in the universe. And because it's fluffy."

"...I'm going to bed."


Izanami is having her first, likely fitful, sleep in her crib...So far, this little orphanage isn't doing half bad.

So, a few technical notes, for the curious: the town they're in, Monte Vista, is a recently-released town from the store with an Italian bent. I've got a couple of Store lots in the town as well, including the market and Greenouse Willow visits in this bit.

[Aidan305]

Out of curiosity, is anyone else having difficulty seeing the images?

[Deme]

I am not, so if this is the case for a decent number of people, I'd like to hear of it so I could, I dunno, upload these to Photobucket from now on or something.

[Vauron]

I am not, so if this is the case for a decent number of people, I'd like to hear of it so I could, I dunno, upload these to Photobucket from now on or something.

I can't see any pictures at all. I assumed at first that it was just a text based prologue. Your comment that you could see pictures was the first sign I had that there were any at all in the preceding posts.

Edit: Try looking at this thread from a different computer than normal. You likely can see the images due to the fact that they are in your cache already.

[Loki_42]

Yeah, I had no idea that there were any images I wasn't seeing. You should try to fix that.

[The Glyphstone]

I wondered why it didn't have pictures.

[Deme]

*sigh* I went back to the other version of it, saved all the pictures, and re-uploaded them elsewhere, and edited them in. Hoorah!
Anyway, there should now be screenshots, or maybe I will just start twitching and weeping if there still aren't.

[Loki_42]

I can see them fine now.

[Deme]

Part 4: In Which Our Ophanage Recieves Donations from Beyond the 4th Wall, Willow Meets A Man, and The Word Moppet is Bandied About

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As one could predict of a light-sleeping baby, Izanami wakes up in tears. Willow's on-hand: The Magician's still trying to sleep.

When they get up and ready...

The Magician goes forth to earn some money trying white magic...
"...Man, wonder is *hard*. No wonder -- ha, see what I did there? -- I avoided it!
I bet those ingrates would be impressed if I...But that'd be rather bad white magic, wouldn't it?"


And Willow's...breaking the furniture.
"I'll...Let The Magician deal with this...I'd just...make it worse."

And so...

"YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?!"
"Fix the sink. I can't, so..."
"You. Can't?!"
"OK, I could try, but it'd just go haywire!"
"Because you're incompetent!"
"Ugh! You think you're so great? You fix it!"
"Fine! Maybe I will!"


Willow wondered if perhaps she had discovered the secret to the universe (or, at least, the Magician's universe) right then and there.
"I'll have to try the Rabbit Season trick next time...Wait, am I living in a cartoon or something?"


"Ugh...And now I have to do *this*, while she gallivants across a greenhouse? How undignified!"


But for their efforts come a few new additions.
...Not that that pleazes Izanami.



"Ugh! Why do minions have to be so loud? They're always 'waaah, I can't take care of myself'...Hmph. Why, when I was their age, I..."
Izanami cried louder.
"Hey, I'm trying to monologue!"

Well, the noise wasn't going down...

"There you go, little minion. Everyone loves games, right?"

In this way, they passed their second day.

Day 3


Izanami is not the ideal alarm clock (The Magician would argue that there's no such thing, of course).

"You get it...You were asleep first..." Comes Willow's mumble from the next room over.
"But I -- I got you to do this!" He replies.
"You wanna help orphans?"
"Not really." She does not hear this.
"Go help orphans."

Then there is the sound of her turning over and going back to bed.

So he tended the child, and, to get a bit more rest in...

"Yyyessss....This rocking is the wickedest of rockings! MWAHAHAHAHA!" He indulged in his usual delusions.
A familiar wail began to rise.
"Aah! Don't cry, little minion! Rock...A...something...Something..."
It was the world's saddest attempt at a lullaby.

The next morning, The Magician made a discovery...

"In addition to being filthy, our yard attracts wild animals! Back, back creature!"
This effort seemed to matter to the kitten not much at all.


Summoning rubber duckies in a summer storm: never really the Magician's first wish...
"I think I shall leave for my hovel post-haste!"

A momentous occasion was occurring in the life of Willow Whisp...

"I finally have money to donate to a charity!"
As she peered into the mailbox, though, she noticed something...Small envelopes of money, a few hundred simoleons each, sitting in the mailbox...Addressed to "The Wicked Magician's Orphange"?
The messages with the envelopes said things like "I hope this helps the orphanage," or the like, from people Willow had never heard of.

"What's this?"
She called inside to ask.

"What's what?"
"These envelopes. They're for the orphanage..."
The Magician stomped outside, noticed the lack of rain, and strolled to the mailbox.
"Hmmm...They're gifts! Donations! We should accept them immediately, of course!"
"From who, though?"
"Who cares? Generic do-gooders? Enjoyers of Orphanage projects? All that matters is...We've suckered some poor saps into literally throwing money at us!"
"Hey! Don't be that way! They're donations from people who want to help us, right? We should be more gracious!" She sighed and smiled. "Thank you..." She muttered to the envelopes.

This said, she went to a nearby park for an evening free of the little ones.

But she didn't expect to encounter a higher-ranked fairy...Or an attractive one, at that!
"Hello there. I haven't seen you before; did you just move in?" He asked her.
"W-w-ww-w-w-w-w-w-w-well, I, That is to say....Umm...Yes."
"I'm David."
"I-I'm Willow."
"Up for a little joy-ride?"
"I'm no good at flying, really... I'd just slow you down."
He laughed, sympathetically.
"Come on; I'll help you out."


It was a very nice time...Even if she didn't stick the landing when they changed back.
And she bumped into him a few times.
But it didn't seem to matter all that much to David, anyway.


They chatted about her garden, and a few other things...Neglecting the slow sinking of the sun...
And the rising of a full moon.

When she makes it home without much incident, she finds...

"Why is there a toy rocket ship here? Izy's too young to play with it..."

The only person who could have played with it was...
The mental image dawned on her suddenly, and she couldn't decide if she found it endearing or disturbing.

...What sort of evil witch was this guy, anyway?

Day 4

The Magician, during his morning magic practice, made himself a fine green jewel: Tiberium.
All he had to do was get it cut...And the local elixir store had something for that. The smell of the potions put him at a natural ease.

"Aaaaah, my old friend...Alchemy. Well, perhaps when funds are better...And this magic jewel will help!"
He was proud of this accomplishment; he preened like a cockatiel all the way home, chirping little words about his excellence. You know, the constant loop at the back of his head, just...Externalized.
He could sell them, but...Unless he mistook his magic, he had better use for the gem and the dust.


He found a cool, dark spot beneath the one living tree in the yard...
And he set it to work.

"Come inside! I got us a cake!" Willow's voice rang out.
"A cake? What for?" He hadn't told her about the gem thing, so that couldn't be it...

"It's Izanami's birthday! I thought I'd get her a cake to celebrate."
"....Her what now?"
"Her birthday!"
"..."
The two stared at each other. Finally, it dawned on Willow to ask...
"...When was the last time you celebrated a birthday?"
The Magician shrugged.
"You kind of stop keeping track when you're a sorceror who's live 1000 years. Well, anyway, if the little moppet's growing up, I'm all for it!"


The Magician threw himself into creating as much party-like activity as possible! He was going to party so hard! It was Labour Day, after all!
Party!

And as Izanami was set down...


Their little moppet grew up a bit, as a certain magician would put it.

Of course, once the normal celebration was over...The Magician had to celebrat his way

...The more things change, right?

Two notes on technical stuff, unless you guy have questions...
As of Showtime's patch, you can send random gifts to your friends; this is the mechanism behind those "mysterious donations," which were sent after the first chapter went live on the other site.

Tiberium's a gem from World Adventures; when cut, it becomes "radioactive" and can make a sim feel sick if carried. Placed on the ground, however, it can grow into a larger Tiberium, which is worth somewhere in the ballpark of 30-40 thousands.

Since that sort of stuff may not be clear to people who don't know a lot about the sims 3 or stuff, I just wanted to add it.

[Deme]

Thank you!

Chapter 3: In which a Breakdown in Entertainer-Audience Relations Occurs, A Lesson about Ghosts and Teddybears is Taught, and A Second Orphan Appears

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Day 4, Part 2

He had a gig later, but for now...He could take a bit of time to help her learn to talk.

"Now, to bind a ghost you need a rowanwood switch and..."
"Don't teach her that!"
"But what if ghosts attack! I'm thinking of my minion's future!"


"Ladies and Gentleman and UGLY SUNGLASSES IN THE FRONT! Prepare to be amazed!"
Of course, with his custom uniform, he only had money to use the venue's set-up. But he was certainly going to try and do a good show.


...Truly wondering people, without losing his temper along the way...May have yet been beyond the skills of our Black Magician.
But he had one big trick to pull...


"Now, the last time I tried this," He said to the audience, "I never intended my victim to come out the other side...But don't worry -- I'm sure none of you have incurred my wrath yet!"
For some reason, they seemed to find that funny. Well, whatever works.


"And, true to my word, she emerges unharmed!"
...The success of that one trick aside, it was not a good showing.

And as the Magician's white-hot rage and humiliation boiled over, there was one thing left he could do...

Take it out on the audience.
"This is for booing me!"


"This is for all the mid-show heckling!"


"And this is because I appreciate the dramatic value of the rule of threes!"

He went home, and did not tell anyone about this. It didn't occur to him that he had failed to go a single week without black magic; he was too busy stewing in the hate that bred such power.


With the money from the job -- and some other, unknown source (more benefactors? There weren't more letters in the mail...), they mad some expansions to the house, including a second (slightly nicer) crib. It'll eventually be divided into a child's room and a baby room, but that will be in due time.

Day 5


In the morning, the Magician made a resolution: He would not bomb a gig like that again! Even if it meant practicing this instead of more challenging spells!

He went out and got a gig at the coffeehouse in town, determined to do it right this time.
And when he got home...

"There! Now you can handle your own stench, minion!"


A little play-time won't hurt, right?
"This is Mr. Alabaster, little Minion. And he will always protect you, OK? Always. He's my servant, like you, so you'll look out for each other!"
This was, of course, a polite pretense -- even The Magician knew it, before you think him mad...
But even he noticed that Izanami sometimes had trouble sleeping. And for a minion of his, this would not do!


In the mail that day was a gift, for one...And for another, and more relevantly...
Was a letter from David. Asking if she'd like to go out sometime.

Willow froze, her senses and reason overwhelmed.
"W-what? A-a-a-a-a-a-a-ask me out?"
"I can't imagine why," The Magician said, with his best skeptical eyebrow (the advantage of huge, dramatic eyebrows: if he had a feeling, he could express it to the extreme)
"I know, right? Is he actually asking me to ask him? He...Likes me?"
"No accounting for taste."
"That's my line!" Willow put a hand to her forehead. "What am I gonna do? If he likes me now...It's all downhill from here."
"Such pessimism from you, Servant."
"I'm...Uhh..not your..."
"Go practice your lines in a mirror -- you need to work on your confidence, young lady!"


But first, there were lessons to learn.
"Ghost! Ghost!" Izanami pronounced.
"...Magician, where'd she learn that?"
"From someone as fine a teacher as he is handsome."
"...Well, at least she's talking."

Day 6


There was some early morning training, at least until Willow could take her off of The Magician's hands.

Though Willow had some...Different ideas.
"We can't be an orphanage with just one kid, right?"
"...Right." He was just guessing.
"So we should take in another one...And I want you to make the call."
"What? Me?"
"Yes, you. Maybe another toddler?"
"Isn't one enough?"
"...Please do it. For your soul, Mr. Magician."

He sighed an resigned himself to it.
Well, while he waited, he could still have some fun...

He instructed Izanami at the xylophone, laughing with her like he had never seen one before.


But that was before the social worker arrived with little Chronos, another virtuoso...But this time, one who loved the outdoors.


A little nervously, The Magician picked up his son. His...Son. The thought felt odd and weighty, and made him want to run and hide. But a Black Magician never fled! That's what he told himself, anyway.

...Yeahh...This quasi-sibling relationship may not be off to the greatest of starts.

Since the kids still had skills to learn, it was time to teach some skills -- in unison!

...Though the Magician had to leave the training session early to go to his show. Let's hope it was worth it.


This time, he set up his own stage!
Though he did not like what it did to his wallet.

A lady in the audience certainly approves...Let's hope the mojo lasts.

When the show started to go south... It was time to bust out some new tricks.
And it was enough! Maybe. Certainly, it was a little bit better than before.


And he even earned some tips after the show. They weren't bad tips, either.
With that jaunty notion in his heart, and a new child in the house...
Week 1 drew to a close.

[Deme]

Tea For Two
I.

Spoiler

Show

At the local Pizzeria, two people who had not seen each other for a very long time met. One of them, a familiar man in black, eyed his the person with him -- or, in his assesment, against him -- with suspicion.
By contrast, the woman across from him (Maria was her name) was almost entirely smiles -- at least for now. Those fluffy types, and she was as fluffy as they came, could switch at the drop of a hat. That was how The Magician understood it.


"...Is it necessary to eat while we talk?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the table. It was early; too early.
"It was a long flight, and I missed breakfast; if you still lived at Skull mountain --"
"I haven't lived at Skull Mountain for hundreds of years!"

"Anyway, your new town is simply delightful!"
That one punched him in the gut. His home was getting more tolerable...If you were one of the minions. And the weeds were...Less omni-present.

"Yes! Yes...My home is lovely and is not some sort of dilapidated old shack covered with weeds and all our food does not taste of fridge."
He laughed, nervously.

Maria edged nervously in her seat. This was not the sort of talk she had ever expected to have with this man. True, she no longer reasonably expected grand fights to the near-death (and anyway, magical duels were not her cup of tea; she was more of a supporting White magician, the sort who gave little starving girls magical pots to make food for them, to be honest.)
In fact, she had been dared by the rest of her little coven to have it: it was big gossip in the magical world. There were few -- very few -- sorcerors as old as The Black Magician, old enough to remember The War...And few Black Magicians as driven by the simple fact of being a Black Magician, either. That was what made this whole orphanage thing so *exciting.* It honestly made her a little giddy.
And so she had to give it the old magic try: being nice was, ultimately, who she was. And certainly....Certainly he was trying, right?

"I'm so...Very glad to hear that. You know, I've always been a believer that a leopard can change his spots, so of course I really believe your little project has nothing but the best hopes for success!"
She chirped. The Magician rolled his eyes. She sounded like a self-help book!


"Anyway, your little ones...Is there anything they need? How are they?"


"Hmph! I resent the implication! They have all they need...Little toy rocket ships...And things."
"Toy rocket ships?"
"I think it is vital that they understand both science and magic." Actually, it just came with the toybox. But the Magician never passed up a chance for self-aggrandizement.

"How lovely!" She cooed. "And how are you finding them?"
"Why, we call social services and see what they need a placement for." He was proud of this knowledge. That was the sad part.
Maria found this more amusing than sad, though. Her giggle had a certain quality -- like popping bubbles, bombarding his ears with their innocence and cheer.
"I meant...Do you like being with the children? Seeing their bright little smiles?"

The Magician did not answer right away. The question had caught him completely off-guard. Certainly, he was distracted from his boredom...That was the same as enjoying it, he supposed...But more than that...
"I...Suppose I do." He blinked. He did not understand this.
"You suppose?"

"I don't know!" While it was easy for him to be furious about this, he didn't understand why he, in fact, was. But then, who was she to judge his feelings? Some petty little White Magician, some little witch whose path was the easy way out? "What business of yours is it?"
There was something on the tip of his mind, but he couldn't place it. And this just frustrated him more.

"Well, I just...Wanted to make sure it was going well. In case...you needed help."

"Madam, I do not need 'help'! I am managing just fine on my own with the girl I pressed into service to do things for me!"

"Pressed into service? What exactly do you..."
"Pay it no heed, woman! Are we quite done this interview?"
"I'm sorry if I offended you, I just wanted to help."

"Your sort always wants to help." He rose, but then sat down. "This is my town! You should be the one to leave!"

She balked.
"Well...Alright. Send the little ones my love...And I'll try and send a little something their way." This only met with further scowls.


As he watched her retreat, the Magician scowled, and repeated the conversation again and again in a loop. What was that inane thing she had said?

A leopard could change his spots? Don't be silly. Spots were destiny -- a leopard who tried to change that was just going to get put in his place the hard way. He was born a spotted leopard, so he had to live as one; it was that simple. No, the way to own destiny was to enjoy it, to wear your spots with as much style as you could handle. To show you knew where your spots were. They didn't have to tell you.
Even he wasn't after real change: Just a diversion. Like wearing a coat. He knew his place, his style. He wore his spots with panache, at the end of every day (He repeated it, like a mantra).


"She's right about one thing though; this is surprising...Still, let's make it clear it's temporary. 9 weeks, let's say. Then...I'm out of here. Nine Weeks is long enough to get a taste of spreading wonder, right? Any longer, and I think it'd get dull....Besides, I bet some children would be grown up and ready to act as proper minions! I will need to design minion-outfits!"
He laughed maniacally, for the sake of it, but his heart wasn't really in it. This bothered him, too.