Monday, 29 May 2017

The Liebster Award

I'm utterly thrilled to announce that I have been nominated for a Liebster Award! 

This is a prize awarded to bloggers by bloggers, to show appreciation for their efforts, and to encourage others to read their work.

The rules are as follows:

  • Say thank you to the person who has nominated you for the award.
  • Answer the 11 questions the person has asked you.
  • Nominate people (comment on their blog to let them know).
  • Ask the people you have nominated 11 questions.

Thus, allow me to begin by thanking my nominator, the incredibly talented Lillielove! I truly am grateful for this honour. If you haven't already, please go and read her amazing work: her stories are complex and enthralling, with some of the most stunning Sims screengrabs I've ever seen.

Congratulations also to my fellow nominee, cynicalbadger!

Anyway, on to the questions!


1: What was the thing/event that made you decide to write? 

I can't really recall a pinpoint moment - I've been scribbling stuff ever since I was a wee nipper. I've dabbled in many different mediums, and you can read some of my non-Sims works here, should you wish to. 

In terms of The Sims, I've always created plotlines and tales which I previously kept to myself, but I started sharing my work after discovering Boolprop - cynicalbadger (Fionerd Plays) mentioned it in one of her YouTube videos. After seeing a few stories and legacies, I decided to give writing some of my own a whirl - and since then, they've become some of my most widely read pieces. Feedback is a massive motivator for me, but I also love playing the games and exploring all of their features, so in short, I intend to carry on!

2: Do you have a favorite character/creation/storyline? If so, who/what and why?

The Miskins. I adore them all for different reasons. I loved playing and writing for Montague because his joyful comedian career contrasts with the troubles of his dark bargain, and he can seem so harsh and uncaring, when deep down, you know he only wants what's best. Mordecai was an interesting one as he was such a radical departure from the nobility idea that the Miskins started as, and having a Sim with no conventional employment provided an interesting challenge. 

My personal favourite so far, though, has to be Mac. My intent with him was to make him the embodiment of pure goodness and love, as well as to introduce a romance story that didn't run as smoothly as his predecessors' ones did. His main arc was a bit trickier to write, and even I wondered if the confrontation event might be a step too far, but the effort seems to have paid off, and hopefully, it resulted in a more powerful storyline.

3. What's one of the things that makes you tick? 

Having the fidgets. I love to keep myself and my mind busy, and both playing and writing are good ways for me to do so. I also like to finish a job I begin, which is another motivation for me to continue my legacies and plotlines whenever I can.

4. What is your least favorite story/movie/TV show? 

I wasn't keen on the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy movie. I loved the books and almost every other adaptation - radio, TV, etc. - but something about the movie just felt wrong. Too much was changed. It just didn't have the same air, that same spirit, that je ne sais quoi, that the others did. As a fan of them, therefore, it was rather a letdown.

5. What is something you "need" in order to function each day?

Tea. A world without tea is chaos.

6. What is the thing that makes you happy every time you see/hear it?

At the risk of sounding even more pretentious than I probably alrady do... the little notifcation I get whenever someone comments on or responds to my work. Knowing people are enjoying it, and that they feel able to remark on it, is a truly amazing feeling that never fades away.

7. If you could live anywhere in the world - money and distance not being an issue - where would it be and why?

Probably Lake Garda in Italy. I went on a holiday there and fell in love with it. Lakes, mountains, towns, beaches... it has it all. It is truly one of the most beautiful places I've ever been to. I could just sit beside the lake all day and write. One particular highlight was the town of Limone sul Garda: if you take the Italian meaning of its name into account, I can assure you it's very fitting!

8. What's your Sims confession? 

Thank plumbob for the Motherlode cheat.

9. Describe your ideal "perfect" day?

I wake up, get a cup of tea and a Nutella toastie, and play The Sims for a while. Then I get some lunch, have a nice walk somewhere, and then come home and do some writing - stopping for dinner and a nice bubble bath at some point.

10. If you could trade places with any of the fictional (maybe nonfictional?) characters you have read/written/seen, who would it be and why?

One I've written: I'd love to be Roxy Rhodes for a day. Kick ass, take names, and basically be one cool customer.

One I've seen: I'd love to be the test subject on the Satellite of Love (Mystery Science Theater 3000) and hang out with the Bots. It would be a great experience, and I'd get to poke fun at a bad movie!

One I've read: Maybe Dr. Susan Calvin from Isaac Asimov's "Robot" stories. It would be fascinating to see a futuristic world and the advances in robot technology.

11: To carry on the wonderful theme: can I have a hug?

Nah, I don't do hugs.


Aah, who am I kidding? COME HERE, YOU!


Before I reveal my nominations, I have a couple of honourable mentions from the deviantART community.

The first is dave-llamaman, a wonderful real-world friend and a very funny writer.
The other is Steve-C2, another great writer, and one who has been very supportive of my non-Sims works, which I'm highly grateful for.

I also highly reccomend the works of both Lillielove and cynicalbadger - I am not formally nominating them, though, as they've already recieved this award! As have three other of my original intended nominees, the amazing Second Chances by orangeplumbob, The Dysfunkshinul Legacy by Gryffindork and Pixel Perfect Redux by KimiKatastrophe!

In addition, do check out the story threads on Boolprop and Carl's Sims Forums - there are some great writers there who use the boards as opposed to blogs.

And now, at long last, here are my choices for the Liebster Award. I know I don't have many, but it seems a lot of my favourites have won this prize already! 
(For real, this is like the sixth edit!)

My questions for you are:

  1. How are you today?
  2. What's the weather like? (I'm British - it is a national pastime to discuss weather.)
  3. What came first for you - Sims or writing?
  4. How do you maintain movitation?
  5. You can only play one game out of the entire Sims franchise for the rest of your life: base only, no expansions. Which do you pick and why?
  6. Your legacy is being made into a movie. Choose a few key characters: who would be your dream casting?
  7. What are your non-Simming hobbies?
  8. Ideal snack whilst writing/Simming?
  9. Plan the legacy's story, or let the game lead the way?
  10. What would you like to say to your readers?
  11. Lastly... can I have a hug?

Thank you all for reading! I look forward to seeing my nominees' responses!

Sunday, 21 May 2017

The Munchkin Legacy - Generation One, Part One: The Dating Game

As he idly sipped his coffee one Monday morning, Titus’ mind was lost in memories of the day before. He and his son, Alaric, had spent the afternoon introducing themselves to their new neighbours. The final stop of the day had been the Munch household… a friendly lady named Mila, and her three sons - Gunther, Wolfgang and Lucas. 

Titus figured that Lucas was around Alaric’s age, and indeed, the two boys had made some pleasant small-talk during their visit. Titus, meanwhile, had chatted away to Mila as she had served them tea and biscuits. She had been kind to him… very kind. Willing to listen to the stories of his travels, whilst also talking about her daily life. Before Titus had knew it, three hours had passed. It had felt like nothing to him.

He’d bid her farewell with some reluctance.


True, she was an older woman, but it had to be said, she was rather good-looking…


Perhaps he could call around again…

“Dad, the toast is burning!”


Alaric’s frantic cries snapped Titus out of his reminiscing, and he rushed to the toaster to pop out the smoking, smouldering bread slices - dropping them onto the counter, and damn near burning his fingers in the process.

Morning Coffee.png

“Well, they’re neither use nor ornament now,” Titus muttered.

“I did try to tell you,” Alaric told him. “But you didn’t listen. It’s like you were somewhere else.”

“I was just… contemplating something, that’s all,” Titus replied. “I apologise. Shall I put in some fresh slices?”

“No thanks, I’ll just have cereal,” Alaric answered, heading to the cupboard for a bowl. “The school bus will be here soon, anyway.”

“Indeed. Promise me you’ll be good on your first day.”

“Yes, Dad - I will.”

“That’s my boy.”

As Alaric hastily hunted out some cornflakes and milk, Titus picked up his mug of coffee and headed into the living room, switching on the TV, and settling down on the sofa to watch it. It was some sort of showbiz gossip show, but at this hour of the morning, that didn’t really matter to Titus - it was just something silly to occupy his time for a while. He took little notice of it… until a rather eye-grabbing story flashed up on the screen.

Watching the News - Titus Learns of Ronan's Marriage.png

“And today, in our “Lords and Ladies” report, we have exclusive coverage of the wedding of Willow Creek’s former most eligible bachelor, Lord Ronan Miskin, and his new bride, Lady Amy Chesterton. Lord Miskin, whose net worth is rumoured to be in the millions, married the daughter of the famous media tycoon in a lavish ceremony at the family home last Friday, having courted since they were introduced to one another at a ball three years ago. Several high-class people and celebrities were on the guest list, including - “

Titus switched it off, sharply. So, his brother had gotten married. He was probably feeling pretty pleased with himself. This was the first he’d heard about it… but then again, he’d done his best to stay under the family’s radar ever since his moonlight escape. An invitation was never going to be on the cards. Besides, even if he had gone, his mother would have probably pushed him in the direction of the bride’s younger sister, or some other mindless living doll whose only ambition was to land herself a rich husband. All in all, he was glad to be free of that life. If, indeed, he ever was to marry, it would be for love, not duty.

As he heard the sound of a honking horn outside, Titus saw Alaric rushing towards the front door - his school satchel over his shoulder.

“Bye, Dad,” he said. “I’ll see you later. Oh, and we’re out of milk now… can you get some more?”

“Sure. Good luck today!”

“Thanks! Bye!”

With that, the front door slammed shut.


At the grocery store, Titus browsed the aisles in search of milk, bread and other sundries. In his old life, servants had always done the shopping for him. As such, he wasn’t too familiar with the layouts and processes of the everyday supermarket. Still, if he took his time, he was sure he’d find everything he and Alaric needed.

As he navigated the maze of fruit and vegetables, Titus’ eye was drawn to the display stand in the corner. It hosted a range of freshly cut flowers: wrapped and arranged in all sorts of combinations. One of the most eye-catching pieces was a single red rose - a slender pink ribbon tied around its stem in a bow.

Titus picked up the rose, examining it gently. He wasn’t massively into flowers himself, but… well, Mila really had been kind to him and Alaric yesterday. The other houses in the neighbourhood hadn’t really given them the time of day, but she’d invited them in and played the perfect hostess, as if they were old friends. Perhaps he should offer her a token of his gratitude?

Smiling, Titus put the rose in his shopping trolley, and then moved along.


Later that evening, Titus approached the Munch house, knocking on the door eagerly. When he received no response, he tried again… and continued to be met by silence.

“What are you doing here?” a voice barked rudely.

Titus turned around. Stood on the driveway behind him was Wolfgang - Mila’s teenage son - looking at him in an most unimpressed fashion.

Wolfgang Isn't Impressed.png 

“Oh - hello there,” Titus said brightly. “I… I was hoping to have a chat with your mother. Is she around?”

“She might be. She might not,” the boy answered flippantly. “Why do you ask?”

Titus swallowed nervously - desperate not to be intimidated by this rebellious youth.

“I… I was just going to thank her for her hospitality yesterday,” he explained. “But, if she’s not in, I can - “

“Nah, it’s OK,” Wolfgang said, relenting. “She’s at work right now, but she’ll be back soon. Go in if you want. You can wait for her there.”

“Oh… thank you.”

About twenty minutes later, a tired and exhausted Mila arrived home from her shift. She’d had a rough day, and wasn’t in the mood for any mischief from her boys. It took her by surprise, then, to see that her visitor from yesterday had decided to pay her another visit.

“Oh! Mr. Miskin! How nice to see you!” she said. “May I ask what you are doing here?”

“Oh, call me Titus, please,” the young man responded. “Don’t worry, I shan’t stay long - I just wanted to give you this, as a token of thanks for your warm welcome yesterday.”

Smiling, he handed her the ribbon-wrapped rose. Mila, delighted by the gift, chuckled, and took it from him appreciatively.

Titus Offers a Rose.png

“You shouldn’t have!” she said, flattered. “Thank you very much!”

“My pleasure,” Titus said. “I simply felt that I should repay your kindness.”

At this point, he paused for a moment - as if he was hesitating.

“In fact,” he added, after a while, “I was wondering if… perhaps… you’d care to join me for a coffee sometime? I’ve heard good things about this little café - The Hare and Hedgehog. I’d be honoured if you’d allow me to buy you a drink there.”

Mila looked at Titus, considering his offer carefully. She was almost old enough to be his mother, but yet… he had this maturity about him, an understanding of the world, whilst maintaining a youthful optimism and joy. His manners were impeccable, and he was well-spoken and well-educated. Undeniably, he had class… not to mention a certain charm.

Besides, he was only suggesting going for a coffee. An innocent enough outing. She hadn’t really gone out much since she’d finished things with Garrick - she’d been so busy with work and looking after the boys. It would be a nice treat for her.

“I’d love to,” she replied. “Would Friday evening be good for you?”

“Capital,” Titus told her. “I shall see you then.”

Titus Kisses Hnads.png

Gently, Titus took hold of Mila’s hand, raising it to his lips to give it a gentlemanly kiss: not lustfully or forcefully, but gracefully and politely. As Mila’s face flooded pink, Titus raised his hand in a goodbye gesture, and headed out of the door.

To Titus, the wait until Friday felt like an eternity. He was very keen to get to know his new friend better. Being in a new place meant he treasured what little company he had - and he was especially eager to be in Ms. Munch's company.

However, the day eventually came, and after Mila had finished work, she dolled herself up, instructed Wolfgang to care for his little brother instead of sloping off to see Morgan Fyres, and went to meet Titus at The Hare and Hedgehog.

Over coffee, the pair chatted about their respective lives. Titus revealed he was currently looking for a job in the business sector - perhaps a small role in an office, to start with - whilst Mila modestly discussed her restaurant work... her achievements impressing her companion greatly.

When it came to family, however, the dynamic of their conversation changed. As Mila happily told stories of the next generation of the Munch clan, Titus seemed reluctant to talk about his own heritage. Eventually, Mila got him to disclose that he had been born to a rich household in another city, but Titus staunchly refused to reveal any major details.It occurred to Mila that this might be something of a sore point for him... so, rather than risk spoiling their pleasant evening, she dropped the subject. That said, Titus did praise Mila's ability to raise her three sons alone - sometimes, just dealing with Alaric was enough of a trial for him.

At the end of their rendezvous, Titus asked Mila if he could walk her home. Much to his delight, his acquaintance agreed. As they approached the door of the Munch residence, Mila reached into her handbag for her keys, whilst Titus stood around on the cobbled path.

"I had a wonderful evening with you, Mr. Miskin... I mean, Titus," Mila said, softly. 

"And I with you. Perhaps... we could see one another again sometime?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

Taking hold of Titus' arm, Mila pulled him towards herself - and quickly planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Goodnight, Titus. Take care."

Titus, transformed into a nervous schoolboy, could only nod and grin in response. As Mila headed into the house, he turned on his heel and headed back to his own homestead... feeling as if he was walking on air.

The next morning, Titus received a delivery. It was the most beautiful gift basket: containing a bottle of wine, a blooming red rose, and a charming card - inside which were written the words:

Now it's my turn to thank you. See you soon - I hope.
- M.M 


Delighted with the present, Titus proudly placed it on top of the drawers in his bedroom: somewhere where he would see it when he woke up in the morning, and when he fell asleep at night. 

Yet, even when the wine had been drunk, and the flower had wilted and gone, Mila remained Titus' first and last thought... as well as being several other thoughts in between.

Monday, 15 May 2017

Two Robots and a Ragamuffin: Chapter One - Two Servos, Both Alike in Dignity

In a small town, a place not unlike the place where you live, two scientific minds met in a battle so fierce, it was only brought to a end by an untimely tragedy.

Professor Dante Crosswire was one of the most respected academic minds in Millwood. He had a hand in a range of scientific subjects, from chemistry to robotics, and held a long-established chair at the local university, where he had taught two generations of students. He was unrivalled, unchallenged, and fiercely proud.

Unfortunately, his glorious reign of intellect was not to last.

Dr. Vladimir Sparx was, in short, a prodigy. As a student in Sunset Beach, he had dazzled his professors, graduated with high honours, and had won a string of prizes and accolades in the short years that followed. 

Itching to progress further, Dr. Sparx moved to Millwood to take up a lecturing position - one at the same university where Prof. Crosswire taught. The Dean, impressed by Dr. Sparx's achievements, felt it only appropriate that Sparx share a workspace with Crosswire, in the hope that the elder academic might lead a path for the other to follow.

From the get-go, things grew tense.

Crosswire saw Sparx as a whippersnapper - an arrogant young fool who was prepared to rush into things in the vain hope or progress. In other words, he was all flash, and no substance. Sparx, meanwhile, regarded Crosswire as a grouchy old man - someone stuck in old ways and old methods, afraid to move towards the future and live in the 21st Century.

Hell, when it came to contactless bank cards, the man didn't even have a bank account - he preferred to hoard his earnings in a locked case that he kept inside his office, where he could "keep an eye on it", like some bizarre Scrooge. He treated his research in much the same way: sealing it under lock and key until the time was right to publish it solo, allowing him to claim all the glory... even though sharing it, or God forbid, working with someone else, would let him finish the work faster and benefit the world sooner. Crosswire was selfish, and Sparx despised him for it.

Well - if you can't join them, beat them.

And Sparx did. Regularly. His youthful good looks and warm, charismatic attitude had students flocking to his lectures - often transferring from Crosswire's. His new and forward-thinking hypotheses impressed his fellows in academia, leaving Crosswire's research overlooked. Knowing Crosswire thrived on fame and glory, Sparx stole it from him any chance that he could. To begin with, the wealth and the attention meant little to Sparx, who preferred merely to focus on progress... but after a while, even he had to concede that it did boost the ego somewhat.

Three months after Sparx's arrival, Crosswire had had enough. It was time for him to take action - to unveil a project so impressive, so clever, that the world had to sit up and take notice. In the weeks that followed, Crosswire stayed in his lab at all hours, working on his piéce de resistance, forever dropping subtle hints to Sparx in the faculty corridor that he was "on the verge of something big". 

Sparx seemed unfazed by this, saying that he, too, had a major development in the pipeline. Crosswire merely laughed this off. After all, what could this young upstart possibly be working on that could upstage this?


A life-sized, humanoid robot. One capable of independent thought, performing actions of free will, and quite possibly, of feeling and displaying genuine emotions. It was a game-changer. A marvel. An invention that would mark his place in history. Naming his droid the RCH-17, he made plans to unveil it during a grand faculty gala, where his co-workers and peers would witness his creation as they sipped champagne and nibbled on canapes.

On the night of the gala, Sparx was nowhere to be seen. This was a massive ego boost to Crosswire, who took it as a sign of the young man's cowardice. Once the guests were settled with their bubbly and nibbles, Crosswire introduced RCH-17 to the assembly. Just as he'd anticipated, they were enthralled and dazzled by this technological wonder. It could think, walk, and talk... in a warm Edinburgh accent, no less. That had been Crosswire's little indulgence - an homage to his beloved homeland. 

Everything was going swimmingly - until an unexpected guest barged into the room mid-presentation.

Dr. Vladimir Sparx. With an android of his very own.

Whilst the robots were not identical, they were certainly similar - Sparx's creation, the JK3000, was of much the same build as RCH-17, with similar capabilities. However, whilst Crosswire's device seemed to have a calmer, more submissive "personality" (for want of a better word), the JK3000 seemed brasher, and more confident - its own voice carrying a soft, slow, Cajun drawl. All-American... rather like Sparx himself.

The two androids approached one another in the centre of the lab. The crowd watched eagerly, waiting to see how the pair responded to each other's presence. The most keen spectators of all were Crosswire and Sparx - each secretly hoping that their creation would destroy the other, securing them the final victory in this battle of wits.

However, the robots were both designed to act like humans - and humans, generally speaking, don't attack each other on first sight. Instead, RCH-17 offered JK3000 his hand to shake, which the latter did in a friendly manner, before engaging his new acquaintance in amicable small-talk. 

Crosswire and Sparx were shocked... but the crowd was delighted.

"How marvellous!" the Dean exclaimed. "A joint project! Kudos to you, Crosswire and Sparx!"

For the rest of the evening, the two scientists wore fixed grins on their faces as they posed together for photos and chatted to the press of their "joint" success. Deep within, however, the hatred in their hearts grew ten-fold.


Back in their lab, Crosswire and Sparx both worked furiously - each one now utterly driven to ruin the other's reputation. 

Their two creations, intended by each to be their magnum opus, were now primarily left to their own devices, aside from the occasional barked order to clean up or pass a tool. RCH-17 occupied itself by reading books about the human condition and the local culture, whilst JK3000 engaged in basic scientific research of its own, keen to master the craft.

In the years that followed, neither of them would forget their creators' screams.

It was a terrible disaster. A horrific accident. Plumbing leaking into the electrics. Sparx was the first to die - killed instantly by a violent electric shock. Crosswire witnessed this in horror: any feelings of vengeful joy he might have felt at his rival's death drowned out by overwhelming fright.

Moments later, he suffered the same awful fate.

The robots found the bodies after hearing the two men cry out. It was they who called for the ambulance, who made the required arrangements: all the while, dealing with the same shock and grief that a human would, with RCH-17 being the worse affected. It might have had similar components to his peer, but JK3000 was, somehow, made of stronger stuff - able to stay calmer, to cope better, and to support RCH-17 whilst dealing with its own grief.


One question remained: what where they going to do now?

"I... I don't think we have a choice," RCH-17 concluded. "We need to look after ourselves from now on. To do our best to blend in amongst humankind."

"'Blend in'?" JK3000 scoffed. "And how are we going to do that? We're made of metal, damn it - we'll stick out like sore thumbs!"

RCH-17 approached its late master's desk and picked up a paper file, which it handed to JK3000. 

"The Professor was working on something for me," it explained. "A type of covering. Do... do you believe you have the expertise to create it for us both?"

JLK3000 browsed the blueprints carefully.

"Well, I'll give it my best shot," it replied.


Two nights later, RCH-17 examined its new body in the mirror - stroking its soft, pale skin, and ruffling its bright blond hair.

After much thought, he had concluded he was male, and instructed JK3000 to construct a covering that would reflect this, whilst he went to gather some old clothes from the student union's jumble sale - taking money from the locked box his creator had hidden. Now, after a lot of work and preparation, he most certainly passed for a normal, everyday man. JK3000 had done a great job.

"What do you think?" the other robot asked, as it entered the room. RCH-17 turned to see that his friend had also chosen a male body, but was clad in a slightly more stylish outfit than himself.

Smiling confidently, JK3000 approached the mirror, admiring his own new features - a slightly tanned skintone, and hair as red as flame.

"You... you look good," RCH-17 said shyly.

"Thanks," JK3000 told him - before adding "You ain't so bad yourself," followed by a cheeky wink.

RCH-17 turned his head to hide the fact he was blushing.

"So, that's the appearance taken care of," JK3000 said. "What else do we need to pass a human?"

"Well, we'll need names," RCH-17 answered. "From my reading and observation, I've learnt that most humans have one or two personal names, and one name that comes from their family. As such, I feel my familial name should be Crosswire. Since I now look like a young man, I may be able to pass as the Professor's hitherto-unknown illegitmate son. That should make things easier for us amongst society."

"And what about me? I'll hardly pass as Sparx's son."

"A long-lost brother, perhaps. Or a cousin. Otherwise, a sheer co-incidence."

JK3000 considered this, and relented.

"All right. I'll be "Sparx", then."

"As for personal names, that's a different matter," RCH-17 added. "Recently, I've been attempting to use the letters in my unit number to form one. R-C-H... R-ch... er...chuh..."

"'Archie'?" JK3000 suggested.

The blond android smiled.

"A wonderful suggestion. Most appropriate. I'm now Archie Crosswire."

"And mine? J-K..."

"How about "Jack"?"

"What, like the computer port?"

Archie laughed.

"I assure you, it is a common name for men."

"If you say so. I guess it fits. Call me Jack Sparx."

"So, that's another problem sorted."

"Good, but... well, where are we going to live? And what are we going to live on? We don't need food or water to survive, I know - but we may need spare parts someday, just to keep us going."

Archie nodded.

"I have realised this. The Professor owned a house on the outskirts of town, in a quiet, unassuming area. He lived alone, so we'd be the only occupants. Word of his death is bound to travel, but if I pose as his long-lost son, I can claim I inherited the property, and that you are living there as my tenant."

"And money?"

"Again, not an issue. There's a fair few thousand in the Professor's safe-box. That should last a long while. In the meantime, we can look for employment."

Jack smiled.

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?" he said.

"Well," Archie replied. "I like to be prepared."

He led Jack to the heavy money-box, which the redhead easily scooped up onto his arms, before picking up the keys to the Professor's house from a hook on the wall.

"So, shall we head home?" he said.

For the first time in their existence, the two androids walked together off of the university campus - uncertain of what challenges the human world would hold for them, but excited and ready to face them.

Little did they know, they would soon carry one of the greatest responsibilities of all on their shoulders...


Hope you're enjoying this new story. You will not believe how tempted I was to call one of the Servos "Tom"...