The Newcomer
By Lythodaemil
On a humid summer’s night, Alphonse Wolfsbane lay in his loosely knit
hammock thinking of his home planet, Furopia, long lost to the Great Fire.
He had only been but a pup of a year or so when he recalled his father
running off to try and fight the Great Fire. Alphonse stood there in the
middle of his village looking with interest at all the bustle, not knowing
what was going on. His father had walked over to him and picked him up,
looking deep into Al’s great blue eyes. Al noticed his father wipe away
a tear from his eye as he handed the pup back to his mother. Al’s father
took off his beaded necklace, made with the best blue and white crystal
in the area, and placed it around Al’s neck. That was the last time he
ever saw him.
The Great Fire had engulfed the entire planet, leaving nothing behind but
ash and death. Before the flames reached Al’s village, a Galactic Salvation
Army ship arrived and saved him and his mother. They were transported to
a newly engineered planet with a forest area that was habitable to the
Therians. Therians are a race of wolves that have learned to walk erect
and have been gifted by their Tribal Spirit God, Moon Feather, with opposable
thumbs. The Therians still maintain their pack order, with an Alpha male
and female. Their bodies still covered with thick fur, and their tails
protrude from their behind for when they hunt primitively. The area
was rich with vegetation from many planets. Some of the vegetation had
been shipped with Al and his mother when they were rescued. The huts they
lived in consisted of a type of straw and mud mixture, it made a surprisingly
comfortable dwelling. The planet was populated by a myriad of different
aliens from the farthest reaches of the universe. The creatures that Al
lived with in the forest region with were amazing to watch as they went
about their lives. There were these stout creatures call Worlorfs that
were a brilliant shade of yellow. They had snouts that protruded from their
small face and two beady eyes. They did not speak in any tone that Al’s
could understand. Together, for twenty-five years, Alphonse lived and coexisted
with other species.
Alphonse had never been outside his forest region and longed to see what
opportunities awaited him in the other parts of the vast planet. He told
pleaded to his ageing mother his wishes to belong to more than just the
Forest. His mother, Running Wind, knew from when Al was very young that
he was meant to go onto bigger things than within his Tribe. So with her
good graces, he left in search of a more exciting life. It took a half
a days walk to get to the nearest shuttle port to transport Alphonse to
another region. The shuttle port usually only brought in new species from
other destroyed planets, or goods. The shuttle train ported and transported
Alphonse to a busy city region called Rawton. Rawton was not the best
place to start out when you were wet behind the ears, but it would have
to do.
Rawton City was a city of buildings that reached endlessly towards the
sky. The higher up you traveled in the atmosphere of the city, the higher
class and more important the people have been. So, when the shuttle arrived
at the ground level station, Al’s first taste of the city had been a
bunch of grumpy aliens who were thugs. The city air was thick with smog
and pollution as he stepped off the train with his duffle bag. Al was so
eager to get to the city region; he didn’t plan on what to do when he
got there. As he looked for a good direction to go, he was shoved out of
the way by the bustling group of workers that were in a hurry to get their
meager wages at their occupations. He saw a neon sign with the words “Spherical
Llama” flashing in green. He made his was in and pushed past to the bar,
he was met by a strange looking barking dog sitting on a stool. Alphonse
jumped backward in shock. The man next to the dog gently patted its head
and calmed it.
“Easy, Spud.” He said, “It’s a Therian, he ain’t no harm to ye.”
The dog calmed down and hopped on his owners lap, licking his face.
“Yeh look to be an outtie, never been into the city before.” He extended
his hand and announced himself. “Me name is Rosster McMillan, sub human
from New Ireland.” Rosster was about 5’10” and had strikingly purple
eyes, common among the sub human species of Ireland. He also had bleached
blond hair that was short and spiked. Rosster wore an old pair of purple
and grey camouflaged cargo pants with a torn up white t-shirt.
Alphonse looked at him shocked, he didn’t know whether or not he should
shake the man’s hand, but politely he extended his paw to the stranger.
“Hello, um, Rosster, my name is Alphonse Wolfsbane from Furopia.” He
said hesitantly.
“Old Furopia? Shame that planet caught the Thermal Fire and scorched.
There were a lot of casualties I heard. Terrible, terrible shame that be.”
He spoke as he shook Al’s hand.
“Yeah, I know, I was only a pup when my family left the planet for this
one. My father stayed behind to help fight the fire… he didn’t make
it.” Alphonse looked at the ground for a moment.
Rosster tried to cheer up Alphonse by giving a heavy pat on the back. “Well
you’ve come to the right place to find new friends and meet new faces,
right Spud?” The dog let out a bark as he heard his name. “I remember
when me leg got blown off by a plasma rifle from back in the days of the
Old Ireland Revolution. That was many years ago, but I still can’t sleep
some nights, knowing my pals were there behind me one minute, and gone
the next.” Rosster lifted up his pant leg to show Alphonse the metallic,
mechanical replacement that was his leg. He stared at the piece of technology
that had become apart of his body and then returned his gaze to Al. “But
the bad times are all over now, Al. Ain’t nothin’ gonna trouble us
anymore.”
Ironically enough, as soon as Rosster said those words, two heavily set
aliens burst through the doors of the bar and that attracted a lot of attention.
The two stood there about 7 feet tall with their large chubby, green faces
bearing serious expressions. They wore large black bodysuits with black
metallic armor attached. Both of the creatures held these very large sub-rifles
that looked like they meant business.
Rosster looked to Alphonse and then to Spud, who let out a low growl at
the two intruders. Al was not accustomed to seeing guns, but he knew what
they were, and he knew this was not a good situation to be in. Everyone
in the bar was silent and staring at the large masses that blocked the
doorway.
The two crooks advanced towards the bar where Al and Rosster sat. Rosster
didn’t move a muscle, and Al was just waiting for Rosster’s reaction.
The two green creatures stared at Rosster and Al as if they were in the
way, then with the butts of their rifles; the two creatures knocked both
Rosster and Alphonse hard into the chest, knocking each off their stool
and onto the ground. Spud growled ferociously at the two thugs and jumped
off the stool to his master.
“Goddamned Groks!” Rosster spat as he sat up off the floor. Alphonse
still didn’t know what to do. The one of the thugs grabbed the puny bartender
and shook him while he spat what were probably orders in their native tongue.
The other “Grok”, as Alphonse understood, turned towards Rosster at
the comment and pointed his rifle at him.
“It would be best if you minded your tongue, SUB-human!” he spat upon
Rosster. “You don’t want the stick-up to have any casualties, now do
you?” he aimed his rifle now at Spud, who still growled at them.
“Don’t ye dare fook with my dog, or you’ll be fooking with meh.”
Rosster said. He was still on the ground but he did not feel the least
bit intimidated.
“Strong words from an Irishman who is on the ground. Why don’t you
go chase after a potato?” He laughed at Rosster.
Rosster snapped. In a split second he took his left leg and kicked the
rifle out of the thick hands of the Grok with his leather combat boot.
Rosster stood up and Alphonse jumped from the ground in a wolf-like fashion
and onto the one Grok’s back. He sank his large claws into the Grok’s
thick chest, piercing the armor and his flesh before the Grok reached behind
him and flung Al over him and into a set of tables many feet away. Rosster
took his right mechanical leg and sunk it deep into the same Grok’s stomach,
causing him to double over in pain. The Grok blasted Rosster in the face
with his mammoth fist and knocked Rosster to the ground. Spud lunged at
the predator and sank his teeth into his leg. The people at the set of
tables picked up Alphonse and threw him back into the fight. Alphonse stumbles
a bit and looked around; he saw the Grok harassing the bartender and went
for him. The Grok who was busy with the bartender turned suddenly to see
what was going on as Alphonse stood there and was shocked when Al took
his left fist and decked him solid in the jaw, knocking him out cold. Al
picked up the rifle from the ground and knocked the other Grok solid in
the back of the head as the Grok pried the Corgi off his leg and was about
to throw him, causing him to grumble and his eyes to roll to the back of
his head as he collapsed to the ground next to his counterpart. Rosster
looked up at Al with a blackened eye and a bloody nose then back down to
the Groks. Spud growled and continued to attack one of the Grok’s arms,
thrashing it wildly in his mouth. Rosster gingerly picked up Spud and held
him in one arm.
“I’d rather have a bloody beer.” He spat to the Groks who lay on
the floor in response to the earlier comment one made. Many of the customers
around Rosster chuckled and the Security Force ran in with shield and batons.
Alphonse dropped the rifle and the bartended relayed the entire story to
the authorities. After the Groks were taken away Rosster sat down and
sighed as he placed an icepack across his eye. He looked up at Alphonse.
“Yeh know Al, that’s not how you use a gun”, He laughed as he said
this then took a sip of his beer, “but it works.”
Al smiled at the remark and patted Spud on the head. “I think I will
fit in just fine here.” He laughed.
Alphonse had left the forest region to find out where he belonged. He had
found a new friend on the first night, and they would go on to have many
more fun experiences as Alphonse continues to search for where he truly
belonged. Not many find their perfect place in life, some never will. Maybe
Alphonse will be one of the many that don’t know where they belong, but
that’s okay with him, because he is out living life now and he doesn’t
care what challenge comes to him, he will be ready for it.
Comments on "The Newcomer"
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On Thursday, March 22, 2007, just breath
(39) wrote:
Cool, i love stories, good job