call_it_friendo (call_it_friendo) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-10-27 04:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | anton chigurh |
Who: Anton Chigurh & Alexander York
What: Ultimate Badass makes his appearance
When: Early Afternoon
Where: Hospital; Bus bench
Rating: TBD
Anton’s mind was swirling with dreams, playing out the last moments he remembered. The sound of breaking glass and the feeling of being threw violently within the confinement of a vehicle, a car crash. The memory shook him from his coma-like slumber, his lids opening to the sight of tilt wall above him. An ordinary white ceiling that offered no answer to where he was but the smell that entered his nostrils was all he needed. It was the scent of cleaning agent and urine; it had to be a hospital. Carefully he drew up his strength and seat up on the bed gurney, easing his legs off the side. His arm had been set in a common white cast. Idly he runs his fingers over the rough texture in a curious manner. It was all still a great mystery how he came to there and how long he had been laying there in the hospital bed asleep, he didn’t remember being treated, but that didn’t really matter to him, he merely wanted to go. So Anton let his dark humorless eyes scan the room, he found his tank of oxygen against the wall. Clearly they haven’t understood what its’ purpose was.
He was about to go when a male nurse walked “Sir you haven’t dis-“ he was stopped in mid-sentence by Anton’s deep voice addressed him, chilling devoid of feeling “How much?” The man stood puzzled staring at the strange male before him who was pulling out some money he had in his back jean pocket. With his free he started to count it silently then offered it to the nurse. Two hundred dollars cash “You didn’t see me…” It wasn’t surprising that the man’s fingers snatched it away and Anton took his leave, the nurse sneaking a glance at the man’s parting figure smirking ‘nice ass’ he thought as he returned his attention to his money. The assassin made his way out with a slight limp due to his early injury with a shotgun. To his surprise, if you could say the expression he bore was surprise, he wasn’t in Texas. He arched a dark brow as he continued down the sidewalk, studying his unfamiliar surroundings as he dragged the tank behind. Anton finally came to rest on a bus bench, the tank nestled against his leg. His focus was on nothing in particular, merely peering off seeming quite in deep thought.