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| Mr. Anatra's Awkward Arrival | Started by: ClydeAnatra on May 05, '09 18:15 |
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A long nose protuded from under Clyde Anatra's cap. The rest of his facial features were hidden in shadow, but that's the sort of dramatic effect that Clyde was going for. Standing up from his seat, he stretched, yawned, and collapsed into a heap on the ground when the train suddenly stopped. "NEW ORLEANS! NEW ORLEANS!" screeched the fat conductor. He stared at Clyde on the floor, but didn't offer a hand. "I'll New Orleans you," grumbled Clyde as he picked himself up from the floor and dusted off his worn clothes. Clyde Anatra was twenty-two, he had been raised in South Boston by an Italian father and an Irish mother, which meant he was Roman Catholic and got the shit kicked out of him everyday. An old family friend of his dad had offered Clyde an escape from the boring job he held attending a newspaper stand, one thing led to another and here he was. Clyde made his way over to where his suitcase was, hefted it, and walked down the steps onto the platform. The train's whistle hissed, and smoke poured out of the engine. "ALL ABOARD!" screamed the conductor. People hurried past him to get onto the train. Mr. Pollitt had said someone would meet him at the New Orleans train platform. Setting his suitcase down, Clyde glanced around the station. Hopefully someone would be here shortly- it was his first time in the city of New Orleans. |
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New Orleans was hot and humid as hell, but he'd have it no other way. The birds chirped and gallantly played across the vast sky. Most days the clouds would bring tempest and endless gray. Today was different as the sun pierced the firmaments and kissed the earth - drying days of rain as if the heavens themselves mourned for those lost. Cajun spices and commerce dance abound the streets. Michael made his way to the station platform, awaiting the new arrival. A wallet photo and name was all he had for the occasion. Hench that is all one would need. It wasnt money, but picking up a prospect for Pollitt would earn his favor anyhow, He sat and awaited patiently. "What a beautiful day." He said to himself as sweat trickled down his back "This train better get here soon." |
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| Reply by: Michael at May 06, '09 09:10 | |
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It was the first day the burnt and nearly useless shell of a Chevy standard had been driven since being towed from Chicago and it looked every inch the death trap it was. The girl driving it was cursing loud enough to be heard over the engine, which, if you were close enough to hear, sounded like it was grinding up feral cats. She barely managed to slow down enough to only knock half of the bumper off when she crashed into a lamp post outside the train station. She got out of the formerly green sedan and slammed the door, knocking bits of char off into the street. After wandering around the train station for a while she saw the back of a head she though she recognized. After lighting up a cigarette she sauntered up to her newest compatriot. Is the new guy here yet? |
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| Reply by: Pickles at May 06, '09 13:29 | |
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Michael sat reclinced on an open bench - roasting in the midday sun. He recognized Pickles' dashing voice and opened his eyes. Not yet. |
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| Reply by: Michael at May 06, '09 13:58 | |
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Clyde saw people all around him, milling about. Where were the folks that were supposed to meet him? Muttering something under his breath, Clyde Anatra shoved his way past the mob at the station and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. Damn if it wasn't hot. He put down the suitcase, removed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Well. He wasn't sure what do to, so he simply sat down on a bench and lit a cigarette. "Elegido, elegido, elegido," he whispered. |
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| Reply by: ClydeAnatra at May 06, '09 18:35 | |
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Pickles nudged Michael in the back of the head and tossed her cigarette over a pram that clattered past, earning her a dirty look from the over dressed woman pushing it. New guy, 3 'o clock. The one muttering to himself. Has a wilted carnation in his top buttonhole. That was our sign. |
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| Reply by: Pickles at May 06, '09 19:33 | |
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| *Watches from across the way, seeing Pickles do an odd gesture* | |
| Reply by: Sam_Giancana at May 06, '09 19:35 | |
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