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Post by Nancy Mercer on Aug 2, 2012 18:48:36 GMT -8
Thursday was no day for church. Yet, here was the young woman, standing in the aisle of pews and staring at the statue depiction of Jesus on a wooden cross. The sculpture was nailed to the wooden cross all willy-nilly, as were many things in the town. Nancy had not been in town long enough to make herself known. Sure, a person or two knew of her, but no one knew of her abrasive and disturbing personality. No one had any reason to fear her, as of yet. One would think this is what Nancy wanted. A safe haven where no one knew her or her past, a new beginning in life. Her psyche was too damaged to function normally by now, though. It was as if she lived without ever thinking of consequences.
The muscles in her right wrist twitched as her hand began to form a fist. Her eyes were focused on the eyes of the lifeless Jesus in front of her, who was merely stone. Nothing enraged her more than religion and those that allowed themselves to follow such bullshit stories and form their life around it. Not to mention how the loving "god" had turned his back on her and her family in their time of need. She hated him, whether or not he existed. She wanted him to feel the rejection as she denounced him.
Turning around, she looked for anything in the room to throw at the sculpture. Anything that would smash it to bits. It had been without thought that she ended up in the church and she had given no thought as to bring something with her other than her trusty knife, but it wouldn't do anything to stone except perhaps mark it. Judging this as her only means of defacement, she placed the knife on the Jesus statue's forehead and carved in an inverted cross. Soon she heard footsteps and the sudden sounds jerked her out of place. She jumped away from the statue and quickly placed the knife back in her boot. There wasn't enough time to hide, or even move, before a person presented their self.
[I'm thinking this can go as someone puts her in jail for this and the gang bails her out or whatever else. Just looking to spice up things around here. c: anyone is welcome to reply.] |
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Post by anskee5 on Aug 2, 2012 21:12:53 GMT -8
Sitting in the back pew Doc was leaned over quietly conversing with the Almighty when an attractive young woman came in. She seemed very upset as she sat in front looking up at the crucified Christ hanging on the wall behind the altar. Not wanting to disturb her he never the less could not stop watching as she seemed to be getting more and more agitated.
Then she did something he didn't expect. Climbing up on the wooden crucifix she carved an inverted cross on the forehead of Jesus. Even though there were many times he got angry with God he would never deface a religious icon.
"You honestly think that's going to make things better, Darling?" he asked out loud, his thick Southern accent soothingly filling the air and then coughed into his handkerchief. |
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Post by Nancy Mercer on Aug 2, 2012 21:26:49 GMT -8
She faced the man and studied him. His cough didn't lead her to any conclusions, could've been a common cold or something serious, she didn't know. To be honest, she didn't care at this point. Her anger had shielded her from caring. As he spoke, she listened and swallowed a lump in her throat.
"Maybe it will, maybe it won't. I just hope people wake up soon." By wake up, she meant to reality. In her mind, religion was akin to fairy tales and those that believed in it were mindless sheep. Not to be confused with stupidity, though, as she'd met many an articulate follower before. But something about them believing seemed stupid to her. "You can't live in a fairy tale forever." She took a couple steps toward him, off the altar.
"But no, the people in this town are comfortable thinking there's something waitin' for 'em on the other side. Some people devote their lives... and for what?" She paused for a moment but clearly wasn't done speaking. Her eyes got wide and her pupils began to enlarge. "Nothing." With a grin, she took a couple more steps forward.
"Tell me what you believe. Do you believe in-" She pointed to the sculpture at the altar, "-in this?" Her words were lined with malice. The way she spoke of such an icon made it clear that she was too far gone to be "saved." With wide eyes, she awaited his answer. |
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Post by anskee5 on Aug 2, 2012 21:53:17 GMT -8
"I certainly hope there's something on the other side," he spoke. "There's got to me more than this wretched life here on earth. Otherwise what's the point in living? Everyone has things that happen in their lives that make you question the existence of a higher power. But what good does it do to take away someone's hope just because you have no hope?" he questioned. "Well," he concluded, "all I know is I'm dying and I find solace in the bottom of a whiskey bottle. But on occasion I get scared so I reach out knowing that if there is any hope maybe He's the only hope any of us have. Good day to you, Miss."
He stood but was immediately wracked with a coughing fit as his chest spasmed. He swabbed phlegm mixed with flakes of blood from his mouth with his handkerchief and sat down again, his arm across his chest as he gasped for breath.
"Pardon me, Darling, as my constitution is in need of a rest for a moment," he breathed harder. Taking out a flask from his jacket pocket he drank deeply from it. After a few moments he relaxed some and replaced the flask back into the pocket.[/size] |
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Post by Nancy Mercer on Aug 2, 2012 22:18:59 GMT -8
Before he could leave, she answered him. "I really don't think there's nothing for any of us out there. I believe this shitty life is all we're given. Even if there was anything out there for the rest of ya, I certainly wouldn't be going there." This was a moment of reflection for the girl, not that she felt she wasn't good enough, but that she wouldn't want to be anywhere "God" was. What he had allowed had broken her to the point of insanity. Looking at the ground with a smirk on her face, she allowed the man to leave.
Before he could, he went into a coughing fit. A tinge of sadness threatened to creep in but it was quickly quelled. She watched as the man lurched and stood still. He probably wouldn't want her help anyway. For a moment, she wondered what was wrong with him. She pondered over illnesses that caused these coughing fits. But, Nancy had never been too educated and couldn't recognize anything other than it was bad.
Her eyes were pulled to the flask. He had turned to drinking much like she had. Though she'd witnessed horrible things in her short, miserable life, she was sure that knowing you were dying soon would be awful. Still, though, she felt the man was a fool. But for the moment, as he rage dwindled and she became calmer, she decided to just leave him be. He'd be dead soon and wouldn't be bothering her so she would let him live in his own world.
She walked over and sat in the pew in front of him, turning around to face him. "What is it you have that causes that?" Curiosity was one of her many quirks. Many a time it had proven to be trouble for her but at the moment, it didn't seem too bad of an idea. After all, this was just a conversation, and not something like breaking and entering, which had been a problem in the past. |
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Post by anskee5 on Aug 2, 2012 23:03:29 GMT -8
Feeling another chest spasm he pulled out his flask once again and drank deeply. Several years ago he had found that whiskey helped to quell the coughing into something a bit more manageable.
"My manners are atrocious. Please forgive me. My name is John. John Holliday.
I am suffering from the scourge of mankind frequently called Consumption. I am terminal but, because I have moved west to a dry climate, such as is in Texas, I have lived a year and a half longer than was originally diagnosed for me.
So, now that I have exposed myself part of my story to you, so to speak, I expect you to recite your sad tale.. Tell me about your life, beginning with your name."[/size]
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Post by Nancy Mercer on Aug 3, 2012 18:17:12 GMT -8
She observed him as he again took a drink from the flask. The young woman listened to him as he spoke of Consumption. She'd heard of it before but never had seen what it did to a person. Part of her wasn't sure if the alcohol actually quelled the implications of the disease or just numbed said victim's mind until they believed it fought off the disease. The bit about the weather interested her and she put it down on a list in her head as something to remember, something that may come in handy down the line.
When he asked for her name and story, she sat motionless and for a moment, said nothing and did nothing. "Well I'm sorry 'bout your luck. Name's Nancy." She thought over the keypoints in her history, making sure to steer away from criminal activities and imprisonment. Her eyes had a dazed looked to them as she recounted all the little details of her life that had been imprinted in her mind. "I suppose the only thing worth tellin' is that I don't have a family anymore. We ran into trouble in Colorado." He may have wanted more information, but she stopped there. This man wasn't about to get anything out of her about her father, and she would leave the story how it was - he had perished along with her sister and brother.
Her mouth turned into a smile. Really, she didn't know why she was smiling, she just was. An insane little smile on an insane little girl's face. |
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Post by anskee5 on Aug 3, 2012 23:47:14 GMT -8
Coughing again he swabbed his mouth with his handkerchief and nodded as he listened.
"Very nice to meet you, Nancy," his voice carrying the lilting north Georgia accent. "Colorado, ah yes," his eyes lifted upward and smiled slightly. "Denver is a very sociable city. The Pearl of the West. They have very good saloons there. I met a young lady there once. We had a grand time together," his eyes sparkled leaving her with only the ability to guess what he meant.
"Thank you for your concern about my health, Nancy. I believe I am getting better but time will tell."
Coughing again he took another deep drink from his flask. "The elixir of life," he held the flask up admiringly before replacing back into his jacket. "Speaking of elixir, would you care to join me in a drink? I found a small but quiet bar on the edge of town called The Cactus Thorn. I would like to hear more about you. My treat."
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Post by Nancy Mercer on Aug 4, 2012 0:01:35 GMT -8
As he began to reminisce about an affair in Denver. A mischievous smile overtook the girl and she tilted her head to the side, slightly, having found a subject that interested her. "You went an' knocked boots then cut an' run, huh? Always fun." The woman had done her fair share of seedy things and hook-ups were no different to her then eating or breathing. Not necessarily that she couldn't control her urges but that she could make quite a bit of money in which she could buy food or supplies.
Upon inviting her to a drink, the girl laughed almost maniacally. "Oh, I'd love that. Don't know how much of a story you'll get outta me but I can never turn down the drink." It really had stopped being a source of entertainment or a cure for depression and had since become an addiction. The thought of a drink made her mouth dry but at the same time made her belly ache. She knew the more she drank, the more sick she'd be. It also meant she'd feel less and less, numb to a point, and that was always nice. A getaway from the real world. |
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Post by anskee5 on Aug 4, 2012 0:21:25 GMT -8
"You have a unique perspective on life," he laughed. "Knocking boots? That means one knocked dust off their boots or," and he moved slight forward with a mischievous grin on his face, "one knocked the dust off their boots. I'm quite sure it was the latter," leaning back he laughed again. "Am I right?"
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Post by Nancy Mercer on Aug 4, 2012 0:27:39 GMT -8
For a moment, she furrowed her brows and then flashed a large grin. "Yes, you're absolutely right." A small giggle emerged from the woman and she leaned over the pew, arms dangling. "Ya ready fuh that drink? I know I damned-well am." With that, she rest her head on the back of the pew and stared at him. |
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Post by anskee5 on Aug 4, 2012 3:19:38 GMT -8
"Patience is a virtue, my dear," he told her. Coughing again he wiped his mouth with the handkerchief. and took a drink from his flask. "It seems I am in need of a refill myself," he held the flask upside-down showing it was empty. "Please, allow me," he stood and held his arm out for her to take. "A lady must always have an escort."
(OOC: Going to start a new thread in the Blackbird topic. Don't want to mess up this topic.))
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Post by Nancy Mercer on Aug 4, 2012 15:53:47 GMT -8
"I'm not much for believin' in virtues." She rose as he did and took his hand. Part of her wanted to reject him as an escort but another part felt somewhat friendly toward the man.
END. |
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