The Mortal Instruments Sims 3 Series

I know. I was here yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before that. I’ve been here for a week. I’m going insane, Simon. This is all my fault. I don’t know what to do. All I’m getting from the Silent Brothers is fortune-cookie messages, and Jace won’t even talk to me. My mom- our mom is dying and he won’t even talk to me.

I was trying to make you jealous! You’re so stupid, Clary! They introduce you to this whole new invisible world of demons, and you still can’t see anything. I did it because I’ve been in love with you for ten years, and I figured you were going to die soon, so I guessed now would be the time to see if you felt the same way. But, I guess you don’t, so it’s fine. You don’t need to say anything else.

You know, I’m not sure you’re quite sensible of the honor I’m doing you. You’re about to be one of the first mundanes to ever set foot in the Institute. It should be a big deal for you. There’s really nothing like it in New York. Nothing this… glamorous.

Raveners are search-and-destroy machines. That seems… mundane enough. They only act under orders from powerful warlocks or demon lords. Do you have any idea what a warlock or a demon lord would want with an ordinary, blatantly mundane household? And don’t say it was a mistake. Demons don’t make mistakes. If they were trying to attack your mother, they must’ve had a reason. If she were innocent, they wouldn’t have attacked. She must have-

I’m not drunk, Alec. Maybe a little, but that isn’t the point. The point is that Simon’s a rat. He drank one of those blue drinks- after I specifically told him not to- and he’s a rat. Little, brown, scaly. He ran away from me. My guess is he’s probably under the bar. That is, if he hasn’t been stepped on.

They did what anyone would do. It is not the children’s fault. They haven’t done anything. Not to you, not to your men, not to me. Not to anyone. You will not punish them for what I have done.

My mother, she had a great talent. She could see a man’s future where no one else could. Not in his eyes, but in the way he blinked, or in the tea leaves at the bottom of his cup, or in the ridges on his fingernails. Speaking of tea, might I offer you some, boy? You seem a bit tense. All that hunting and training. Must make your muscles sore. I know just the thing.

She unwrapped the blanket when she came in my door. You were inside of it. She set you on the floor and you started scurrying around, throwing things, pulling my cat’s tail, and then you screamed like a banshee when it scratched you, so I had to ask your mother if you were part banshee, which she didn’t find amusing. But anyways, She told me that she was a Shadowhunter, and there was no point in her lying about it, either. Marks, they show up, even if they’ve faded past use. I could see them when she moved. She told me that she had wanted you to have been born with that bloody blind inner eye, something that prohibits Shadowhunter from seeing the Shadow World until they’re taught. But, she’d caught you teasing a nixie earlier that day, so she brought you to me to see if I could give you a false blind eye of sorts, a temporary blanket from the Shadow World.

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