05-26-2010, 05:03 AM
WC: 889.
Location - Devil's Demesne, Jacko's Pop & Gas stop.
Also, sorry for not using post tables at the moment. Work computer, thus can't access my codes, etc. Apologies.
-------
The heat was strange for this time of year – bearing down on the ground with vicious rays, sweating out animals and plant life alike. The highway seemed to stretch out for miles; the horizon torn apart by the tarmac, yellow and white lines speeding off into the distance as though arrows in a labyrinth. They led into shade perhaps, or maybe fresh water – but the walk would be futile, especially with a day like today. The occasional bush scattered the roadsides, sprigs of yellow grass collecting around and in the cracks of the road – the place seemed almost desolate, like something somebody would see in a twisted reality, reminding perhaps of a book that lingered in many of the abandoned libraries of Nova Scotia; ‘The Hills Have Eyes’.
The occasional buzzard circled in the distance, marking the place of death with its keen stare and the screeches that food was nearby. It was clear that there was no death at present, for the lack of crowding by the flying vermin – they flocked when death was there and food was available. They simply were waiting, and building slowly in numbers. It was a sad day for what, or who, ever was being stalked by the scavengers – but then again, perhaps it was their own stupid fault for strolling that far away from water and shade in this heat, especially with the sun so high in the sky.
It seemed, even though this land was Inferni territory, there was not a soul in sight. Yet, with the distant howls of an ocean breeze, scents travelled lightly with them. One, however, was not of the coyote brand – a wolf was in the midst, and she came alone. Obsidian in colour, her fur lay clumped with sweat, beads dripping off her fur as she strolled aimlessly along the roadside, occasionally kicking a rock in front of her – boredom was a frequent visitor, and though the scenery was impressive, this female had other things on her mind. With each foot hitting the ground in unison, footprints of sweat left on the path, it was clear as day that something was bothering her. Whether it was the midday heat, or something completely different, that knowledge lay deep within the crevices of her mind – but either way, the excessive fiddling of the straps of her tattered rucksack displayed crystal irritation, and if a stranger were to stumble upon her, she may have even confided in them.
Slinging the green bag atop her shoulder, which had obviously slipped down her arm with the paces, Lucia’s ivy coals examined the horizon carefully. It appeared to the untrained eye that nothing laid ahead – more dirt and heat, and perhaps a side of death to accompany it. Yet, a small smile of hope drunkenly sprawled across her face, as those desperate eyes fell over a gas station. There was a small ray of survival in the female’s glance now, as her pace quickened and the breaths which were once deep and slow folded into sharp, quick inhales and exhales.
Increasing to a small jog, the ebony bitch reached the broken down station. Examining the building, it became apparent that nobody seemed to be around. The rusty pumps still marked their last sale, though Lucia doubted they still possessed anything of use – maybe rain water which had leaked in through the cracks, but even that was unlikely. The sign, which read ‘Jacko’s pop and gas stop’, seemed to be covered in something which could only resemble the excrement of birds – a few bullet holes to boot. Shaking her head, Lucia was amused by the fact that she had even looked around. It was irrelevant what the place looked like, she was just grateful to be in the shade. The thought came to mind to look for water in the cashier’s booth – maybe a bottle or two lay in the shattered drink coolers, but from a glance through the smashed windows smeared in dirt and god-knows what else, Lucia decided against it.
Reaching one of the pumps, Lucia slung the rucksack to the floor with a small thump. A cloud of dust flew into the air, but it quickly dissipated into the atmosphere. Allowing a sigh to pass her lips, Lucia slid onto her rump, back against the base of the gasoline container. Extending her arm, she shuffled through the myriad of things which lay hidden inside the innards of her bag. Pulling out a cigarette and matches, she placed the stick between her lips. Striking one of the matches against the box, she lit the end and inhaled deeply. “Beautiful,” she muttered to herself, leaning her head back against the shady container, and closing her eyes slowly. It was not apparent to the trespassing female that she would soon have company – the slow breeze opposed her, drifting scents on a different pathway. Simply sitting there, minding her own business, the thought that this would cause an issue did not enter the abyss that was her twisted mind. Exhaling, she puffed again on the cancerous twig of tobacco between her lips. Smoke covered her face, and her muscles rippled with relaxation underneath her pelt of black. “What am I going to do?” she spoke, clearly to herself, still dragging on the cigarette, eyelids still sealed shut. “Where do I go from here?”
Location - Devil's Demesne, Jacko's Pop & Gas stop.
Also, sorry for not using post tables at the moment. Work computer, thus can't access my codes, etc. Apologies.
-------
The heat was strange for this time of year – bearing down on the ground with vicious rays, sweating out animals and plant life alike. The highway seemed to stretch out for miles; the horizon torn apart by the tarmac, yellow and white lines speeding off into the distance as though arrows in a labyrinth. They led into shade perhaps, or maybe fresh water – but the walk would be futile, especially with a day like today. The occasional bush scattered the roadsides, sprigs of yellow grass collecting around and in the cracks of the road – the place seemed almost desolate, like something somebody would see in a twisted reality, reminding perhaps of a book that lingered in many of the abandoned libraries of Nova Scotia; ‘The Hills Have Eyes’.
The occasional buzzard circled in the distance, marking the place of death with its keen stare and the screeches that food was nearby. It was clear that there was no death at present, for the lack of crowding by the flying vermin – they flocked when death was there and food was available. They simply were waiting, and building slowly in numbers. It was a sad day for what, or who, ever was being stalked by the scavengers – but then again, perhaps it was their own stupid fault for strolling that far away from water and shade in this heat, especially with the sun so high in the sky.
It seemed, even though this land was Inferni territory, there was not a soul in sight. Yet, with the distant howls of an ocean breeze, scents travelled lightly with them. One, however, was not of the coyote brand – a wolf was in the midst, and she came alone. Obsidian in colour, her fur lay clumped with sweat, beads dripping off her fur as she strolled aimlessly along the roadside, occasionally kicking a rock in front of her – boredom was a frequent visitor, and though the scenery was impressive, this female had other things on her mind. With each foot hitting the ground in unison, footprints of sweat left on the path, it was clear as day that something was bothering her. Whether it was the midday heat, or something completely different, that knowledge lay deep within the crevices of her mind – but either way, the excessive fiddling of the straps of her tattered rucksack displayed crystal irritation, and if a stranger were to stumble upon her, she may have even confided in them.
Slinging the green bag atop her shoulder, which had obviously slipped down her arm with the paces, Lucia’s ivy coals examined the horizon carefully. It appeared to the untrained eye that nothing laid ahead – more dirt and heat, and perhaps a side of death to accompany it. Yet, a small smile of hope drunkenly sprawled across her face, as those desperate eyes fell over a gas station. There was a small ray of survival in the female’s glance now, as her pace quickened and the breaths which were once deep and slow folded into sharp, quick inhales and exhales.
Increasing to a small jog, the ebony bitch reached the broken down station. Examining the building, it became apparent that nobody seemed to be around. The rusty pumps still marked their last sale, though Lucia doubted they still possessed anything of use – maybe rain water which had leaked in through the cracks, but even that was unlikely. The sign, which read ‘Jacko’s pop and gas stop’, seemed to be covered in something which could only resemble the excrement of birds – a few bullet holes to boot. Shaking her head, Lucia was amused by the fact that she had even looked around. It was irrelevant what the place looked like, she was just grateful to be in the shade. The thought came to mind to look for water in the cashier’s booth – maybe a bottle or two lay in the shattered drink coolers, but from a glance through the smashed windows smeared in dirt and god-knows what else, Lucia decided against it.
Reaching one of the pumps, Lucia slung the rucksack to the floor with a small thump. A cloud of dust flew into the air, but it quickly dissipated into the atmosphere. Allowing a sigh to pass her lips, Lucia slid onto her rump, back against the base of the gasoline container. Extending her arm, she shuffled through the myriad of things which lay hidden inside the innards of her bag. Pulling out a cigarette and matches, she placed the stick between her lips. Striking one of the matches against the box, she lit the end and inhaled deeply. “Beautiful,” she muttered to herself, leaning her head back against the shady container, and closing her eyes slowly. It was not apparent to the trespassing female that she would soon have company – the slow breeze opposed her, drifting scents on a different pathway. Simply sitting there, minding her own business, the thought that this would cause an issue did not enter the abyss that was her twisted mind. Exhaling, she puffed again on the cancerous twig of tobacco between her lips. Smoke covered her face, and her muscles rippled with relaxation underneath her pelt of black. “What am I going to do?” she spoke, clearly to herself, still dragging on the cigarette, eyelids still sealed shut. “Where do I go from here?”