Post by Yrli on Dec 29, 2007 0:58:39 GMT -5
Board Name: Copula
Board Link: z11.invisionfree.com/Copula/index.php?act=idx
Board Topics: Play-by-Post, RPG, Writing, Fantasy, Apocalypse, Vampire
Notes: Copula is an amalgamation of genres, combining vampire, fantasy creatures and an apocalyptic end for Humans. See below for a writing sample:
Brookhaven, Mississippi
April 24th, 2031
A restless shower sprinkled from turbulent clouds, their greenish hue lighting occasionally with lightning from an unfamiliar world. Thunder shook the ground more than normal it seemed as it appeared the sky was altogether displeased with the new environment below. The sky was not alone. Few could boast life sustaining breaths this day, April 24th.... the day after, even fewer able to admit pleasure in the alien circumstances that now greeted their every glance.
Eugene Hankins III was a proud man, one content to live life now beneath the umbrella of his own rules... but such was not always the case. Twelve years he served in the United States Marine Corps, a fact one would easily discern from one quick scan about his traditional barber shop. It was true, he had never seen active duty in the Iraqi war, or subsequent skirmishes in the Middle East, but to hear him tell it, he had stormed from the front line and captured Saddam Hussein himself. No, in fact, it had been barber duty for him those years of his life, he possessing no skills of trade before entering, but certainly leaving with an expert knowledge of shaves. As such, he returned home and slowly gathered some clientèle before finally opening his own barber shop in Brookhaven, an eyesore at the time, but now a virtual landmark in the sleepy, bedroom town. It was in this barber shop's door, complete with the spinning candystripe, that he now stood, loaded twenty gauge shotgun in hand.
Jacob Dixon had never amounted to much himself in the tiny town of Brookhaven, a young man growing to work odd, labor jobs while keeping a faithful visit to church each and every sabbath. Few called Dixon a friend, he being a wallflower in school and virtually unseen when at home. But at Sunday worship... then Jacob was a star, one supernaturally endowed with the spirit of the Lord, speaking in tongues and handling the venomous vipers with aplomb. He would eventually quit school at age sixteen and continue to voice his smoking, sulphuric plan of deliverance. Soon acquiring his own congregation in a rented space of the town's strip mall, Jacob virtually lived therein while witnessing to any would hear of the Lord's angry return. The church's neighbor in the strip mall, a barber by the name of Eugene, or 'Shawty' to the locals, never had enjoyed being nearby, but both had grown roots and both tolerated the other... one more so than the other.
"Shawty!" roared the voice from outside the barber's door, or at least what used to comprise a door. Now overgrown with chest high grasses, both brown and foreign to the area, the door would not lock, nor would it even close all the way. Gunshots rang out in the distance, the sound of breaking glass having been heard on two occasions this morning. Lifting his shotgun to shoulder, the diminutive Hankins drew a bead on the door before witnessing the shirtless visage of Jacob Dixon appear. The brimstone preacher entered in a rush before trying to close the door, but to no avail, "What in the world? This grass is evernwhere, ain't it?" Lowering his gun, Eugene gave a sniff with his wide nose before asking up front, "You been drinkin' Preacher?" "Just a touch," he replied with no guilt whatsoever, "Just some wine, like in the bible, Shawty." "Mm-hm," the barber replied unimpressed before asking, "What you reckon is goin' on? Terrorists? Yankees?" Finishing the last swig of his wine bottle, the red eyed pastor roared, "What do'ya think? It's the second comin', I tell ya! Been tellin' you folks for years now!"
"Reckon' the good book says anything 'bout being drunk when it's time to go?" Shawty asked, unwinding some roots from about the formerly shiny, chrome base of his barber chair. Burping, the pentecostal extremist sighed before advising, "I ain't off to heaven Shawty. He won't have me... not now, not after....." Brows furrowing with some concern at Dixon's ominous tone, Hankins and he both snapped head in arrears as a car horn began to sound from behind the shop's back door. Eyes narrowed as the gun again came to steady grip, both men's eye's narrowing before a nod of head indicated they should check it out.
As much as the night and morning had proven an unwelcome time for these two men, such had it transpired for those alien souls that had never seen the likes of today's modern trappings. One such creature crept even now through a leaf strewn patch of woods, black and scuffed hooves crunching any leaves that had dried to the point of making such a sound. But then...., then something altogether different appeared before the Grylus known as Yrli. Was it a line of never before seen creatures? Perhaps a new and colorful crystal formation imagined by Domilias himself? Native grasses of Freya concealed the vibrant sheen of the objects, but their similar size indicated much. First off, they were very organized, perhaps drinking methodically in unison from some unseen water hole? Secondly, these objects, possibly creatures were larger than her, she being able to tell that even from the short distance betwixt.
Wide eyes begged to learn more, Yrli then stepping forward before her hoof came to rest on a much more solid soil. Brows furrowing with confusion, her tail whipped with curious anxiety before pausing and kneeling. A hand brushed leaf and twig to side, warm, brown eyes then regarding a perfect, rectangular marking on an oddly flat, black rock. Casting some more natural debris aside, the Grylus then found a pattern
unseen in the natural order she was accustomed to... identical, yellow rectangles, all in one line, on the largest, longest and flattest, black rock she had ever witnessed. She had to know more. In a squatting walk, her hands and tail swished feverishly at the leaves, already active in the growing breeze. How long was this flat stone? And what measure of significance did the yellow colored lines hold?
Snapping high, Yrli's hair stood on end as ears registered a voice, a melodic tone coming from the place of those peculiar objects, This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine.... . Eyes widening, she crouched back down to the level of the surrounding grasses, her flitting orbs scanning for any sense of movement. None came. Pregnant minutes passed as the song continued, same words, same verse. Curiosity finally winning in her inward battle of fight or flight, one hoof preceded the other as she slowly approached the still and static things, her senses on full alert.
They were an amazing sight, all varying shades of colors, all founded by four, black circles. Even more inviting was the shimmer of what looked to be frozen water on the upper portion, vertical panels of some clear substance... was it frozen water indeed, in this warm temperature? How cunning was Domilias! Her heart beating a thunderous rhythm, the muddied Grylus then detected movement near one.... no, .... movement inside one of them! Had the creature inside been eaten by this unmoving and foreign object? Delicate steps delivered Yrli to the window of a gold painted, yet battered, Nissan, eyes peering amazed inside the windows and miraculously viewing a tiny child singing to her finger.
Noticing the movement outside, the child, who had managed the release of the seatbelt, clambered into the front seat to get a better view of the nearby and nude woman staring at her. From different worlds, the two stared at one another now across same space, both astonished by what they saw. The little girl waved with a smile, her sudden hand movement instigating a flinch from Yrli and a subsequent, unconscious swish of tail. Deep brown and impressionable scopes from the motherless child immediately widened with the sight of the tail, body then clambering away from the window, her foot mashing on the car's steering wheel as she evacuated into the backseat.
A roaring blow from the car momentarily immobilized the Grylus, her startlement sending Yrli to the hard pavement in fear. As her bare buttocks collided with the asphalt, she attempted to scuffle to feet as a bleating scream emanated from throat. It was at that moment that the woman's ears and eyes regarded two figures emerging from an orifice nearby, she then struggling even harder to get her elongated legs back beneath her. "What the....?" Shawty exclaimed stunned under breath, Jacob then snatching the twenty-gauge shotgun from his grip and pointing it at the naked and towering woman some fifty feet away. Breathing ended full stop in the Grylus, her time grinding to a slow motion reel of horrified imagry. A black stick was now pointed toward her, and that could not be a friendly greeting. BOOM! the gun roared, the barber and preacher's ears immediately beginning to whine, BOOM!
Peering through the negligible smoke, both men looked forward but saw no kill. In point of fact, the fear induced adrenalin eruption had delivered the Grylus back into the adjacent trees, her legs thrusting forward with speed never before attained by the Grylus. Yrli's shoulder stung, but now was not the time to examine those things uninvolved with her salvation. And Yrli ran..., and ran, and ran, and ran. "What in the good book has gotten into you!" Eugene screamed as he snatched the gun back from Preacher Dixon, Jacob unresisting in allowing it before offering, "This is the end Shawty. You see the tail and hooves on that devil?" Stammering slightly, the middle-aged pastor's eyes welled with tears before he revealed, "I think I shot an angel this morning.... eyes white as snow. Lord won't ever have me now."
