WAL ★ MART wars [Open - Accepting Profiles]

[-x-The Red Sage-x-]

O P E N

[Loving A Y A]

☎ ` Nolan x×x Dietrich
❝ Stay away from the walking mental ataxia. ❞

Maskx×xJacketx×xChainsaw

Where am I? █ ◞ Grocery Store
Who am I with? █◞ Alone
How am I feeling █ ◞ Bored.. Then amused!



Nolan stared forward, the view of a few aisles and signs becoming just about the only part of the morning so far that was worth mentioning, if he had anyone to mention it to. And ice blue gaze surveyed the long row of store entrances and turns just outside the exit, as the only sound echoing through the long aisle was the tapping of the tall man's boot against the floor irritably. It was a bit tough not being able to go to the Garden Center thanks to the cold, so now all he wanted to do was skulk around the store entrances in hopes that there'd be something to take as a new weapon, or perhaps some extra food. But like always, thinking of the inevitability of someone finding the blonde and fighting him off for whatever reason kept him alert. It was a precaution which had him always gripping tightly at the handle of the red, rather scratched up chainsaw he held in one hand, this time around lazily dragging it against the floor and creating a few metallic screeches as he walked. Being in his situation, it hadn't taken long for Nolan to realize that it didn't matter much to him how much noise he made while traveling, since he wasn't such a fantastic hider, and it was just easier fighting anyone off rather than not getting anything done while in hiding. While walking up the path from the Bakery he spared occasional glances into the long windows, seeing just outside of the grocery store.

So far Nolan couldn't see anyone around, making it the perfect place to look around. stopped for a moment to listen around, taking a few careful steps while giving a quick look around the Grocery center before continuing at his normal pace. Passing through rows of food and occasionally having to avoid spills and piles of toppled cans, only finally stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of a cardboard cut-out of a woman advertising some soda, still standing and not showing any damage. Nolan stared a few moments before stepping closer to the standing sign and reaching out to nudge it with his free hand, watching it tilt back and forth from the small push. A small muffled laugh escaped his mask as he continued to push it repeatedly, entranced by the cardboard cut-out woman moving back and forth. Looking for what? His entire 'to-do' list was put on hold after finding such a simple thing like this, and now all that was on the young adult's mind was how much the girl in the sign would move when pushed. Now this was what he wanted to do all day...


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{{Ooc: Sorry for post being blah.. And the first one to post? Oh GAWD no.. XD Best I could do while rushed? o vo;}}

[XIn_The_RainX]

This store is a box

Where we store our hopes and dreams

(K O T A R E M☆C H E L I N)

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“Uh… Testing, testing. 1,2,3. This is MC, leader of your local Techno Tyrants and the only DJ this side of your local surplus store seeing as nobody else has the proper radio equipment to channel my tunes. Today’s Local announcements are as follows; The neutral zone will be serving a variety of replenished food starting today, as a new shipment came in. Pizza bagels and energy drinks will be rationed from here on out; nobody wants to run out of the good stuff too fast after all. Where the food is coming from…? Don’t ask kiddies, just accept it. The weather today is freezing, so it’s a good thing that your local Techies have been maintaining the AC up in here. No need to bundle up inside, and no need to go on outside. We would, however, appreciate it if the other gangs would stop spraying the security camera domes over with paint. Those take forever to clean and replace after all, and I’d hate to turn off the heat in your zones for blocking our supervision outside of your designated zones! Tsk.”

Holding a pair of headphones steady with one hand and opening a can of soda with the other, a tallish and pale looking guy sat at a mismatched station of electronics with a casual sort of tone to his voice. He was notably one of the older people in the store having taken it upon himself to act as a sort of guardian. Though the leader of the smallest gang in the store, he acted with quite a neutral attitude for a good part of the time, making favorable trades with the other groups and acting as a center for trade and neutral position for the other gangs a good deal of the time. Now, that didn’t mean that he was some sort of pushover. Having control of the cleaning center and rc cars from the electronics, it would be a simple enough job to fume up the whole damn place from the safety of the bank’s vault. It was a threat he didn’t use, of course. He just needed something to say every time the butterfly bandits brought up their guns. He knew they had no intention of using them, just as he did not intend on pulling his stunt. But what with the hot head of that gang’s leader… well, more than once things felt like a cold war standoff within the confines of the store. Be silent but carry a big stick, right?

Sipping on his drink, he would continue with a bit more pep in his step. He would hate to sound monotone, seeing as his news is about the only news this place would get. “Odd jobs are, of course, posted in front of the lawn and garden section as always. People will pay for wages for fair jobs assigned, and it’s a good way to trade up for whatever you want. Announcements can be made on request by any group, of course. Before I leave you to a few classic tunes, I’d just like to remind the other leaders that the weekly meeting will be starting shortly. As usual, your second is allowed to tag along but we would still like to hear each other think, so three just won’t be cool. We will be meeting in the bakery to stay out of the cold this week: I figure we could grab some munchies too. A good time, right? Ai, buddy, I’ll be seeing you there soon. Don’t be late. To all mart residents- keep doing what you’re doing. I really do get a kick out of all of ya.”

Setting up the next playlist and buttoning up his shirt, the young man would take a few items from his desk for the meeting. Note cards covering some necessary topics, glasses so he could actually see his notes, his wallet for a purchase on the way back, and of course a few items for self-defense. A few fireworks that shoot out after lit and a handful of smoke bombs, plus a disposable camera fashioned into a one use stun gun should be enough for a routine meeting. It was normal to go armed, now more so than ever. Kotare’s second wasn’t going to attend, and he had hired a neutral as a bodyguard. Ai had proven time and again to be reliably in favor of peace. So long as MC didn’t start anything he felt he had a pretty dependable guy on his back.

Wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a white short sleeved button up, and a pair of square glasses didn’t exactly make him look like a master of fashion. He did however give off a professional aura and that was exactly what made other leaders respect him. He was clearly not a child; he intended on doing business, and if anyone wanted to disrupt proper business he was going to crush them under his heel effortlessly. He would leave his station with his back straight and eyes closed, walking in a manner not arrogant but practiced and surely strong. A poker face, perhaps. He knew that he had the upper hand in many of the dealings. When it came to store economy there was a clear sense of trade. The Fashion Fiends dealt with much of personal healthcare whereas his group could keep areas clean. Though the Butterfly bandits could maintain many things on their own and have quite a bit of survival gear, most of their electronic components would not operate without the electronic maintenance they needed, even down to simple thing like the batteries that the Techno Tyrants had a monopoly on.

The fact was that everyone needed some of everyone else’s stuff to maintain a certain quality of life. Kotare’s current job; to perform a balancing act of getting what is needed without looking as if he cared much about the trade. His desire was, honestly, to maintain some sort of peace and supply all groups with just enough to keep that harmony going for as long as he could. But lord knows some kids are going to get into a fight, and their friends are going to come in and escalate the argument. There were always problem children…

It wasn’t going to make him falter. Leading through example, he made sure he would be the first to the meeting. Clean and tossed white hair bounced slightly with his step, his visage appearing quite groomed. Walking through the double doors of the bakery, a smirk seemed to grow on his expression. The table was set up, and a dry erase board had been placed on one of the walls. He dropped his cards on one of the ends of the tables and personally started to set up bottles of soda and disposable cups. He liked this sort of work. To show his willingness to do his job, he would go through the smallest of chores. He was a leader here because he could serve the people.
Oh yeah; in this meeting, both the Butterfly girls and the Fashion freaks were going to get served.

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Hope is the dream of the waking.
Should we open it up and let them fly away?

::The little spot for unimportant thoughts::

((Figured there was no need to wait, might as well start off figuring out how things were going to work here right away. Time to boldly go~))

[Sigma_The_Redd]

Ｄｅｓｃｈ Ｓｉｙａｍａｋ
========☠ BANDIT ☠ ========
"Things t'do, people t'see."

The crackle and pop of the mostly busted speaker was just enough to jar Desch out of his sleep. The sound of Kotare's voice coming over the loudspeaker was more than enough to make it to where the Bandit leader wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. The youth simply lay there, on his back, staring at the nylon of his tent, as the leader of the Techno Tyrants delivered his self-imposed monologue to the populace of the Wal-mart. Behind half closed lids, Desch rolled his eyes, hissing at the disembodied voice, even knowing full well that Kotare wouldn't hear him. Muttering curses and insults at the guy's voice though, was part of Desch's morning ritual, just as it was for Kotare to give him voice to curse at. The Tyrant did good work though, as the daily communications did no end of good when it came to keeping the organized chaos of Wal-mart running smoothly. Though he would never admit it to his face, or anyone's face for that matter, Desch knew Kotare ultimately had their best interests at heart, despite the superficial war between the three gangs.

"Yes, yes. We get it. You're veeeeery fancy." muttered the leader of the Butterfly Bandits, rolling onto his side and sitting up, throwing off blankets and pillows and beginning to get dressed. "But y'must not care that much, if y'still won't get your pale a** over here and fix the one damn speaker that sounds like it swallowed a ball of sandpaper, and then washed it down with some turpentine." It wasn't that Desch disliked having to wake up to Kotare's voice every day, it was something he had learned to gradually tune out over time. It was the fact that the one speaker that didn't work, was situated right above his tent, giving him a burst of static every time the self-proclaimed DJ spoke a word. Unzipping the door to his tent, Desch briefly wondered if the Fashion Fiends had a busted speaker too.

Stepping out of his nylon tent, Desch drew himself up to his full height, groaning loudly as he stretched out his body. Stringing up the boots on his feet, Desch shook the tired out of each leg in turn before maneuvering through the little tent city that was Bandit living space. Having access to the camping supplies and sporting goods gave the bandits their own miniature town compared to the Tyrants and Fiends. The entirety of the Home section had been modified to make space for the tents and homemade shelters of the Bandits. Giant shelving units had been painstakingly moved to create barricades, and even as much astro-turf as could be carried was moved to Home to look like the Bandits had a yard. The section's name was now as much a literal label as it was a description. The smell of a few enterprising Bandits cooking on looted gas grilles greeted Desch's nose, and he was looking forward to bacon and ham when he was done with his meeting. Making his way to a certain tent, Desch rapped the back of his hand against the nylon, calling to the girl inside. "I can only assumed that the fact that I was awoken by Kotare's ramblings as opposed to your elbow in my gut, that you're still in there. C'mon Chaeli, we got places t'go, with people t'see. Let's go!"

Desch was not dumb enough to wait around for his second to come out of her tent, limbs flailing and curses flying. Chaeli "Lil Slugger" Bothrin was not someone he wanted to anger this early in the day, even if they were on the same side. To that end, he simply made for the aisles of Wal-mart, making sure to pick up his bat along the way, along with two airsoft pistols. There was really no need to go so heavily or even armed at all (besides, Chaeli was enough of a weapon anyway), seeing as it was just a routine meeting. But, appearances had to be kept. Before he left, however, Desch tapped a hand to his hip, to make sure his ever-present key ring was where it needed to be. The Bandits had either found, or copied most of the keys to most anything around the store. but the only one that was kept on Desch's person at all times, was the key to the gun vault. Having access to the sports goods had meant that the Bandits were the only gang that had any actual lethal weapons to speak of. Pistols, shotguns, rifles, hunting knives all were in Bandits hands. Although Desch would never, and had likewise ordered his subordinates likewise, use actual weapons to tip the balance in favor of his gang, the simple knowledge of them was enough to deter the Tyrants and Fiends from getting too nasty, just like Kotare's gas spewing RC cars. At first, Desch and Chaeli had stowed them away under lock and key to keep them out of enemy hands, but by this point, they were the equivelant of a nuclear arsenal. The other two leaders knew he wouldn't use them, but that didn't stop the threats. As the Bandit leader meandered into the bakery, he stopped for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the assorted cups and sodas. "Soda, first thing in the day?" he asked, tapping his bat against his shoulder before taking a seat. He glared at Kotare for a moment before simply smiling and waving. The act only needed to be played upon when it was to be seen, after all. Or did it?! Setting his bat down and leaning it on his chair, Desch pulled out a badly battered piece of paper and lay it on the table, making a vain attempt at flattening it out. "That speaker in Home is still all kinds of busted." he said, leaning backwards and rocking on the rear two feet. There was no need to be bombastic and loud just yet. Between Kotare and Desch, there was always an unspoken agreement. Besides, without the Fiend leader to rile up, Desch's usual act would just be wasted words.

[-x-The Red Sage-x-]

xxxxx════════════════════↘↘lιl' ѕlυgger═══════ ♠ ♠

♠ ♠ ═══════вυттerғly вandιтѕ↙↙════════════════════

〝twσ hσurs dσwn, twσ mσrє t' gσ.〞

xxxWithin the world there are many view when it comes to people. Things can easily be based off of the rearing of a person; making them introverts or extroverts based on just how socialized the parents made their child. Everything else was based off of such things as personal experience, advice from others and the various inputs from the media of that day and age. For orphans such as those within the battlefield of Walmart almost everything was on the experience and others end of things. In that circumstance there are two main mindsets that develop: the Group and the Soloist. Stick together and thrive or fend for one's self and spend every day surviving any way one can. Of course there are variations of these mind sets, one being that of the Guardian. In their mind there are only two categories to place anyone and everyone they meet into.

'Protect and Defeat'

In the deepest parts of the Sporting Goods section the huffs, sighs and grunts of effort could be heard. If one went to investigate they would find the back wall of the section to be blocked off, strategically so by use of tarps and a hook attached to a large suction cup on the ceiling. To those who did not know better this was a strange phenomenon. To those who did know better this was a normal occurrence. This just meant that Chaeli was awake, as she was before most teens her age, and was currently in the middle of training. Behind that blue barrier was a young woman dressed in nothing but a white A-frame and a pair of black exercise shorts, the top slightly damp from the sweat that was dripping off of her face. Morning training like this had been a regular since years before. From past experiences things worked out to where if anyone picked on the two British kids Eri would be their main target, as he was softer in nature than Chaeli. As such she was the one who had to defend the both of them, meaning she had to stay strong and keep getting stronger to keep it that way. Even after the two had split to different teams her goal stayed the same and so her regiment stayed the same.

Taking a deep breath, her lungs burning from the work out she had just put herself through, Chaeli pulled out of her fighting stance and released. Two hours. That was how long the girl had been at this. Two hours of intense physical exertion with short breaks in between to keep herself from overdoing it. The entire morning work routine was four hours long, but once she hit the halfway point Chaeli took a half hour to herself. Hell, she needed to go and get food at some point or else her stomach would start eating her organs for energy. Walking over to the tarped corner Chaeli gave it a hard tug, followed up by a loud 'POP' and the tarp slumping to the floor. Since she would be coming back Chaeli just stepped over the opening without a second thought.

"Two hours down, two more t' go," she muttered to herself, pulling off the damp tank top and tossing it to the side. Nope, Chaeli could have cared less that she was now walking around in a sports bra and shorts for any passerbyers to see. She was just not the type of girl who worried about things like that. Instead she moved over to a chair she had dragged in there, where she snatched up a green t-shirt and slipped it on. After that was a pair of cargo shorts and a black and white coat to go over the top. Next came her beloved pieces of weaponry: two metal bats reinforced with a metal rod in the center. It made them harder to swing but also gave them a harder hit. Tucking her gloves into her back pocket she quickly checked herself over, dusted herself off and... watched as Desch walked by.

Oh yeah, there was a meeting today. She knew she had woken up thinking about it but she guessed that somewhere in the midst of her training it slipped her mind. Well she would have been heading in the direction of the bakery as it was, so it was good timing on both of their parts. Did not mean that she was looking forward to the meeting any more than she had been. With a grumble Chaeli took a deep breath and started walking to catch up with Desch. Once she was beside him - as this was a partnership in Chaeli's mind - she silently kept pace with him until they reached the designated spot. It would seem that Kotare had arrived a good while before and set up some refreshments for the group. Scanning over the selection Chaeli let out another low growl. There was a very distinct lack of black teas, let alone her preferred Earl Grey. Not like she would trust someone of an enemy faction to remember her taste in drinks anyways. Instead of leaving to find some Chaeli just stood there next to Desch, staring Kotare down hard enough that one may think he would burst into flames.

Without Earl Grey this meeting was going to be extremely too long.

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[XIn_The_RainX]

This store is a box

Where we store our hopes and dreams

(K O T A R E M☆C H E L I N)

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Kotare’s good morning seemed to be quickly brought down by the butterfly bandits as they first arrived, looking half asleep. They were lucky as all hell they had somebody set up as a night watch. Otherwise they would lose the entire sporting goods department in a single night raid. First arrival was Desch as leader of the bandits and critic of soda evidently. It wasn’t like it was his job to bring anything; next week for all he cared he would let everyone just stay thirsty. But, of course, this too was part of his business tactics. Following behind and as little of a morning person as ever was Lil Slugger. She reeked of sweat. A sly look crossed the Tyrant’s face, all sorts of reasons for how she got so overworked rushing through his head. He gave her a bit of a grin without saying anything. By this point, he had learned to insult certain people without even using words. That grin, that snarky expression on his face that judged her was message enough. He would look back to his note cards after a minute, giving his head a slight shake just to finish his silent bullet of expression. She was going to be a key pin for this meeting. She was one overly aggressive girl that was like a trigger ready to pull with just enough of his attitude thrown her way. He made sure not to bring any hot water or tea, and by the looks of it she was busy with something else this morning… enough so to skip her ritual, and to play into his hands. “I might have had time to fix your radio if it weren’t for the camera domes in the grocery section that needed cleaning… thanks to that bull, I wasn’t able to catch the mystery supply refresher. But, hey, I did like the artistic butterfly sprayed on the dome. Real effing cute.”

He had raised the tension in the room quickly, playing the defensive lines and setting up for strong arguments. His strategy: to make it look as if he is looking out for the entirety of the populace rather than his gang. To vilify one group, make it look like they are trying to keep the store in the stone ages, than supply the other gang in a crusade against the first, with neutrals who depend on peace siding with him. Now it was the simple question of which group to target. No person from the Fashion Fiends had arrived as of yet, and he wasn’t sure that their attitude would be working for or against him yet The gang fights were political as well, after all. Being the larger gang, taking on the Bandits would prove to be difficult but supply some more useful equipment for the day to day. The Fashion Fiends, on the other hand, would be harder to start a fight against seeing as the neutrals would be less likely to support him and medical supplies after a bad attack would be much harder to come across. Occasionally… there needed to be fights. Not big ones, but fights for commodities. He was here as a politician today. He felt a bit like a slime ball for saying so, but the truth was that the inactivity of the gangs was making store morale slip. Winning fights meant reason for a group to celebrate, and losses gave groups reason to try harder and supplied them with drive. Inactivity, however, put a rise of vandalism and unorganized chaos in the store. So… he would start a war to give the kiddies something to do. He was going start a fight, and try to make it look like he was a hero for doing so. This however showed why it was critical for Ai to get here before the real conversation started before things got bad. The other leaders were not stupid, and a real slip on his part could get dangerous. But more than that; a neutral like Ai spreading the word of his ‘philanthropistic efforts’ could earn the Tyrants cred. Support for the upcoming war.

Opening a bottle of sprite and another of lemonade, Kotare would casually pore half of each into a cup before scooping ice from a chest and taking a sip. The bubbly sour taste calmed his nerves a bit. An arms dealer as he planned to be was quite likely to be shot during a bad transaction. The absolute worst scenario he could set up at the moment would be to put both gangs in direct opposition to him. Focus fire like this could put near any of the groups under the table. All Kotare wanted was a short scuffle. Transaction of one territory from one group to another; he didn’t need it; the other group on his side could take it. Just something to play on the ethos on the residents of the store, get them riled up and focus their time on anything but needlessly tearing neutral areas apart. He was trying to control chaos in away and was aware of the dangers this would present. Sitting back on his seat with a bit of a slouch and spreading his legs out in front of himself, he would look at the two that had already arrived with a straight face. “It’s going to be a busy meeting. Seeing as the fiends aren’t here yet, feel free to grab something from the grocery area and get back before we start. I don’t need anyone not paying attention to the others, after all.”

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Hope is the dream of the waking.
Should we open it up and let them fly away?

::The little spot for unimportant thoughts::

(( Too passive, too passive! I will be the war monger if I must, but lets get going already! D< ))