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Fanon:An Old Goth's Tale: Difference between revisions
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|name=An Old Goth's Tale
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*'''[[Alexander Goth]]''' - A child prodigy, but he just wants to be a normal kid.
*'''[[Dina Caliente]] '''- A blonde bombshell gold digger, that has her heart set on the Goth family fortune.
*'''[[Mary-Sue Pleasant]]''' - A workaholic mother, that is Cassandra's childhood bestfriend.
*'''[[Michael Bachelor]] '''- Bella's deceased brother, and Dina's former object of financial desire.
==Chapter I: ''Alone By The Fire''==
"Love," the elderly Mortimer Goth told himself, as he swirled wine around in the glass he held, "is like a bottle of wine. One sip, and it is all you want to drink. After the whole bottle, it has ensnared your senses. Nothing makes sense any more."
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==Chapter II: ''Tear Stained Wedding Dress''==
As much as Mortimer disliked Don Lothario - dislike was too small of a word, down right hated would be more fitting - he didn't want to get in the way of his own daughter's happiness. No matter how excruciating it was to see her marry a man that wasn't good enough for her, he would just endure it. Cassandra knew what she wanted. If that meant her spending the rest of her life with a man that clearly didn't care for her as much as she did him, then there
Mortimer paced the hallway, considering knocking on his daughter's bedroom door. For years he had kept Bella's wedding dress hidden away. Of course Bella would want her daughter to have it.
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The elderly Goth shook his head. He was getting carried away with his own imagination. Surely Dina wouldn't do that... but she had professed to love Michael, Bella's brother, only a few years ago. Now she claimed to love him. Mortimer and Michael had more than one thing in common. They were both old and rich.
==Chapter IV: ''Tempting Little Rumors''==
After almost an hour of asking, Mortimer managed to convince his heart broken daughter to come down to the beach, for the evening barbecue party. The manager had arranged it, hoping that it would be nice for the guests staying at their bungalows.
Of course Dina kept hold of Mortimer's arm, because she wanted all these pretty hula dancers to know that she had claimed him, and they can all keep their tanned paws off him.
The Goths and the Caliente sat on the warm beach together, eating burgers or ribs, or in Dina's case - a room service ordered Baked Alaska. They didn't have to say anything. It was clear that Mortimer and Alexander were there for Cassandra, even if Dina wasn't.
Some gossip spread across the beach that someone who was quite rich, and quite influential was staying in one of the cabins with his two daughters. The Goth's decided not to take any notice of it, because it didn't concern them. However, three words caught Dina's attention; 'very rich' and 'elderly.'
It was funny, when Mortimer thought about about the fact that just a few days a go, he sat by the fire thinking he was a redundant old fool. Now, here he sat, by a campfire, with his son and daughter, and the woman that wanted him only for his money. He was still an old fool, but not so redundant.
Mortimer smiled, as he watched his son play with a lovely dark haired little girl named Cecilia. Alexander looked so happy, building sand castles and telling the girl about the pirate ghost that he had met.
"Mind if I sit here?" said a grey haired man. Mortimer could see Cecilia in him.
"I don't mind one bit," replied Mortimer. He offered the newcomer his hand to shake. "Mortimer Goth."
"Arthur Riche." He shook Mortimer's hand. "That's my daughter Cecilia over there. And, the young woman over by the barbecue is Morgan. She is a sophomore at Académie Le Tour."
"My son Alexander is playing with your daughter Cecilia," Mortimer introduced. "And, this is Cassandra."
Cassandra glanced at Arthur Riche. She was in no mood to be polite, so she simply nodded.
"And, who's this?" said Arthur, looking to Dina.
"Dina Caliente," said Dina, shaking his hand.
Mortimer talked with Arthur for quite some time, but eventually he hardly got a word in, when Dina found out that the Riche family will be moving into 113 Wright Way. Dina Caliente was lost, with a new object of financial desire in her sights.
The Goths and the Riches (and Dina Caliente, of course), spent most of the vacation together. Alexander and Cecilia played together on the beach, he even took her to meet the pirate captain ghost. Morgan and Cassandra spent time together. Both had been scorn by love, even though Morgan hadn't been left at the alter, but she was proposed to for a joke by her ex. Mortimer and Arthur enjoyed talking about the good old days, while Dina seemed to find it difficult to decide which of the two men were her favourite.
For a while, Arthur Riche was winning, when he said he was divorced and the children didn't live with him. Then Mortimer won, by talking about how many generations the Goth wealth went back - of course that was music to the blonde Caliente's ears. Not that Mortimer was even trying to win her over, he was happier at the thought of having a friend his own age, that he could talk to.
It took some convincing, but Dina managed to convince Mortimer to take a walk down the beach with her.
"I wish we could stay here forever," said Dina. She had dressed in one of the outfits that she'd brought on the board walk, it was just like the one that the hula dancer had worn. Not that Mortimer noticed.
"It is nice to take a few days out of life," admitted Mortimer.
"It really is..." Dina turned to Mortimer, looking up at him with a flirty smile. "Why don't we... have some fun of our own?"
Mortimer frowned at her. At first, it didn't sink in what she wanted. Then he got it. That was one thing he could never do. He could never ''love'' her the way he loved Bella. Woohooing with a woman that he was pretty sure was a gold digger, was something that he would never do, no matter how much she attempted to convince him to do so.
"You are so boring, Morty," said Dina, when she realised that it was obvious that she wasn't going to get her way.
"No, Dina..." said Mortimer. "Just from a different generation. In my generation, we waited until marriage to do that sort of thing."
Dina's eyes lit up, as she hoped that a proposal might be coming her way. "Is that so?"
"Things like love and respect meant something. Men didn't just run away and leave their bride at the alter," said Mortimer.
Dina's expression fell. She wasn't going to get that proposal any time soon, and she realised it. Her eyes were now set on someone else. Not boring old Mortimer Goth, that seemed quite content to wallow in his own misery. Getting Michael's attention wasn't nearly as hard as this. Maybe this with Mortimer really was a lost cause.
Mortimer knew that night, that he would return home from this vacation out of a gold digger's grasp. Maybe coming to Twikkii Island really was the best idea all around. Each one of the Goth family had made a new friend.
==Chapter V: ''Greenhouse Built By Heartbreak''==
Time goes on, and it certainly did in the Goth household. Cassandra's depression didn't go away on the vacation, nor did it go when they returned home.
Mortimer would have given anything to help ease her pain. Happily paying out for a greenhouse to be built exactly where her wedding would have took place. As she put it, ''best to make something beautiful out of a tragedy. ''The tragedy, was really that she just couldn't move on.
Spring, summer, autumn and winter, Mortimer would go to the window, and see her out in the green house, crying away her pain. The roses had grown beautifully. Just like her growing depression. Beautiful and painful. The beauty was how she had channeled it into the greenhouse. The pain, was the ongoing agony that had claimed her heart.
"Is she still out there?" asked Alexander, standing beside his father at the window.
"Yes," replied Mortimer.
Mortimer longed with all his heart to make it right. The pain he felt at watching his daughter spiral so deep into depression was just like death. A little part of him died, when he looked at his daughter's tear stained face.
The haunting sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.
"I'll get it," said Alexander.
Nodding his head, Mortimer didn't break his gaze from the greenhouse built by heartbreak. If only he could get his old pale hands on that Lothario boy, he would teach him a lesson that he wouldn't soon regret. That, he wouldn't have the heart to do, it would just make Cassandra feel worse. He could understand that.
His heart was the same, when Bella vanished. It wasn't ready to heal. In its place was a broken misshapen heart, with no room for anything else but the pain. His sorrow sliced through his skin like thousands of tiny knives. Bella was every where. Where ever he looked he saw Bella, in every little corner, or on every little trinket with in the old dark manor.
The words of his son disturbed his trail of thought.
"The gardener knocked the door. He's gotten straight to work," said Alexander.
"What gardener?" asked Mortimer. He wasn't aware of hiring any gardeners. Cassandra couldn't have done it, because other than the path between her room, the bathroom and the greenhouse, she didn't tread anywhere else in the house any more. "Cassandra!"
He looked out the window to see his daughter talking to someone. A man about her age, that reminded Mortimer of himself in his younger days. Tall, handsome and charming. But, that wasn't what surprised him. It was his own daughter laughing. Not just a forced pity laugh either. A proper one. A joy filled laugh.
A smile spread across Mortimer's lips. Cassandra was ready to move on. It was far too late for him to move on from Bella, but not to late for Cassandra to move on from Don.
There it began. With a simple laugh.
The charming gardener was named Adrian Gardener. It was Alexander's mistake. Adrian had smelled the roses in passing and wanted to see them. In away, her brother had done her a good turn.
Adrian was very proper about it, and even asked Mortimer's permission to date his daughter. His blessing, he was more than happy to give.
On their first date, Adrian came to the door with a single red rose. "Evening, Mr Goth," said Adrian.
"Evening, Adrian. Cassandra is almost ready," replied Mortimer.
Cassandra rushed past her father with an air of excitement. She stopped for one moment, to kiss her father on the cheek. "Thank you, Father," whispered Cassandra.
Mortimer waved them off, as the new couple drove off in the sleek black car. "You're very welcome, and good luck," whispered Mortimer. He knew that she couldn't hear him, but it gave him a small joy to see it.
He turned around to see none other than Dina Caliente. Her golddigging hands held a grey urn. But, that wasn't what caught Mortimer's eye. It was the glistening engagement ring on her finger. She had won Arthur Riche's heart then.
"Evening Dina," said Mortimer politely.
"Hey, Morty. I'm moving into my fiance's house soon, and well, he won't want me keeping this. It's not Bella, but hey, her brother is close enough," said Dina, coolly. She shoved the urn into Mortimer's hands, and left him stood there on the sidewalk.
Of course it was all clear now. Now that Mortimer was of no use to her anymore, because he wouldn't succumb to her charms, she had to hurt him. One last dig, to show him that she didn't need him. It wouldn't work.
Michael's remains were buried in the Goth graveyard, just like any other member of the Goth family. He may not be related to Mortimer by blood, but Michael was the closest thing to a brother that he would ever have.
Mortimer stood at his brother-in-law's new grave, holding a bunch of flowers. As he set them down on the grave, he said a few words of respect. "Rest in peace Michael, among family." As he stood up, he added, "And, bring her back to me."
==Chapter VI: ''Cat Named Evil''==
As Mortimer stared right into the blue eyes of the siamese cat that had claimed his favourite armchair, he realised one thing; he hated cats. Why Cassandra insisted on taking care of the damn thing, while her new boyfriend was travelling for work, he would never know. All Cassandra did was work after her promotion, and leave the cat at home for dear old retired father to care for.
The cat was a horrible thing, that hissed at Mortimer every time he moved. He had half a mind to throw the horrible thing out into the rain and be done with it.
These were supposed to be the golden years, but why wasn't he allowed to enjoy them?
With hardly anything to do around the house, Mortimer decided to go for a little walk about. The attic was getting rather dusty of late, and he could hardly remember what was up there.
Aside from the maddening silence, the sound of the grandfather clock echoed through the house. The eyes of the cat followed him across the room. Mortimer decided to ignore it. As he walked up the creaky old stairs, he heard more footsteps. Stopping, he slowly turned around, meeting the eyes of the cat a few steps down.
"Go away!" shooed Mortimer.
The cat didn't budge. It just looked at him and meowed.
"Shoo!"
Again, the cat didn't budge.
"Well, stay there, you horrible little furball."
Mortimer continued up the stairs, casting the thoughts of that cat out of his mind. Once he was in the attic, he was safe away from the cat. Sorting through old pictures of his parents, his grandparents. Old blankets and toys and even clothes. It was like he had reverted back to childhood, finding all his old toys, that had survived the fire.
At some point, he heard a creek and a crash. He cast it out of mind. It was probably that damn cat again.
Mortimer laughed, when he found an old train set. For old time's sake, he had to set it up and play with it once more. He may be a reminiscing grouchy old fool, but this reminiscing grouchy old fool was going to play with his old train set and enjoy it. He even wore an old cap, while doing it.
As much as he would love to spend all afternoon playing with his toys, his old bladder had something else to say on the matter. He walked down the stairs to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. Something was blocking the way.
"That damn cat!" muttered Mortimer under his breath.
There was nothing for it, he had to climb the stairs to the patio deck, to see if he could get anyone's attention. Anyone that could help him. His salvation came, when he saw the yellow school bus.
"Alexander!" shouted Mortimer, down to his young son. "The attic door is locked!"
It was rather embarrassing, when his son finally let him out. Of course, he had to dash to the bathroom as fast as his old legs would carry him, before he got a chance to explain what had happened.
There the cat sat, innocently on Alexander's lap on the sofa. As if to say, 'would I do something so mean as to trap you?' Suffice to say, Alexander didn't believe him. Nor did Cassandra when she came home. It became an on going joke in the Goth household, when something random happened, that it was the cat, even if he was on the other side of the room or even on a different floor to the random event.
Mortimer despised being the butt of his children's jokes, almost as much as he despised that cat. One thing was for certain, he wasn't going to give that cat the satisfaction of knocking something over, to trap him in the attic again.
The day he could finally get rid of the cat once and for all, would be a happy day for Mortimer Goth.
Alas, fate had it in for Mortimer it seemed. One conversation removed his last shred of joy, when he accidently picked up the phone and heard Cassandra and Adrian talking.
"I'm sure Father wouldn't mind," said Cassandra, "he loves the cat. Staging little jokes, and pretending to us that he hates it."
"I just feel sorry for Mr Jiggles being alone all day, so alright then. If your father's happy to look after him."
"Of course he won't mind. You could... move in."
"After the wedding. I have to ask your father's permission first. It's only right."
Mortimer put the phone down, and cried for two reasons. One, his daughter had found someone that she could marry. Someone that he approved of this time. Two, he would never be rid of that cat now. It would torture him during his final days. Some cats lived to be twenty. He couldn't possibly have that many years ahead of him.
==Chapter VII: Confusion==
Most kids get a party for their thirteenth birthday. Instead Alexander Goth got the biggest scare of his life.
Mortimer had not gotten up and prepared the breakfast he promised. The aging Goth had woken up, he just found it difficult to get out of bed. His head ached, along with his heavy limbs. Everything looked hazy and distant. Even words were hard to form, during the many times he tried calling for help.
The next few hours of his life were a blur. He was sure he saw Cassandra leaning over him, with her hand on his forehead, telling someone that he had a fever. Then something heavy on his chest, as if that damn cat had come to finish him off once and for all.
Three paramedics looking down at him, and lifting him onto a stretcher. Then nothing, until he lay in a hospital bed, with only a heart monitor to listen to.
The doctor told both Cassandra and Alexander about what was wrong with their father, but they understood very little of it.
“Please, doctor, just tell me... will Father,” said Cassandra, but the rest of the sentence caught in her throat. With her mother gone, she didn't want to have think about her father gone as well.
“We are running tests. All symptoms indicate a stroke,” replied the doctor. “We are doing all we can. Your father is a strong sim. I am sure he will make a recovery.”
Cassandra turned to her brother and gave him a hand full of simoleons. “Alex, go down to the cafeteria, and get the first cake you see. You know Father will want to see you blow out the candles.” In truth, she didn't want her younger brother to hear anymore. He was far too young to have to listen to this.
Alexander took the simoleons, nodding his head. He understood why his sister was trying to get rid of him.
As soon as Alexander was out of earshot, Cassandra turned back to the doctor. “Is my father ever going to leave the hospital?”
“It is too early to say,” said the doctor.
Mortimer lay in the bed in his cotton gown, confused about what was going on. Muttering the names of his children, but it came out like distressed mumbles. The only word that he could speak was “Bella.” He couldn't go yet. Not without seeing her face one last time. Not without telling her that he had only ever loved her. That he never stopped.
People came in and out of the room. First Cassandra and Alexander with a cupcake with a single candle, that his son blew out. Then that man Cassandra was courting, Adrian Gardener. Nothing would have pleased Mortimer more, than to give Adrian his blessing to marry his daughter.
Late in the dark hours of the night, when all the nurses had left him alone, Mortimer began to grasp where he was. His fever had gone down. Whether it was a real or just an hallucination, he was sure that a woman had come to visit him. One that made him feel safe and at ease. His gaze remained fixed on her eyes. Those eyes were so familiar to him. As if he had seen them a million times before.
Cassandra and Alexander visited him every day. The mysterious woman visited him every night. Some days Mortimer was responsive and aware of his visitors, others he wouldn't have known they were there even if they slapped him around the face.
Alexander stopped by after school, and brought with him things to make his father feel more at home. The blanket from his bed. Photos of Bella, himself and Cassandra. Sometimes he would just sit there on one of the chairs, reading a medical book, hoping that his father was aware of him. Other days he would talk about the girl he met in Twikkii Island, Cecilia.
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