After seeing the kid's frightened response William lowered his pistol slightly, after years of fighting the Abu Nidal he had generally learned to distinguish who were the good guys and who were the bad guys. In this case it appeared that the kid was telling the truth. At first he was irritated, he was practically alone in his fight against Ellis. His precious time was being wasted by some child who thought he could make a difference.

Then, after giving that a second thought, he decided this kid could be useful in his fight against Ellis. He motioned with his pistol slightly and said, "Alright, go ahead, but no sudden movements. Do you understand?"

Yes, this kid looks like he could be useful, but where to put him? Perhaps he could pass as my puppet candidate? Maybe I could use him as a spy, he looks like he can fit into small places. A young spy might even be small enough to get into the Warren Theater and obtain valuable information for Ellis. If anything having someone on his side was a good change.

"Alright, I've thought it over and I think you might come on handy. Just do me one thing and give me a full explanation as to why you're here. My apologies for this inconvenience but I can't lower this gun until I'm sure you're not really here to kill me." He said, trying his best not to be too threatening despite the fact he was pointing a gun at the person.

~Ellis : The Warren Theatre~

"That mother *****!" Stane says as he approaches Ellis, sitting at the desk that once belonged to Samuel Jessop.

"What's that?" He asks, seeing the note in Stane's hand.

"That **** sent us a note, and he's had some punk distributing them all over town. He's challenging our authority."

"Give it to me," he says slowly enunciating each word with a hard edge.

Ellis looks over the note, carefully considering it's implications. There was a good chance it was too late to stop most of The Warren from reading it.


As I'm sure already know, the situation in our great city has vastly deteriorated since the passing of our great leader, Samuel Jessop. Since you have recently declared yourself the first Consul of the Warren in the absence of a leader, I feel it is my duty to the people as the Director of the Warren Administrative Bureau and as the Chief of the Warren Enforcer Corps to help speed the transition of our government back into the hands of the people. As such, I recommend you to declare public elections in order to help restore the Warren as a shining city in our dark world.


"You see? that **** is trying to take over!"

"Shutup Stane, I'm reading."


The goal to which we all strive towards will only possible if the will of the people and the state are one. I believe that if we can pave the way for democracy, the people will come to their senses and we can bring civilization back to the Warren. I request that you hold a public debate in Market plaza where we can discuss the city's future and make the election announcements. Once the people can see their leaders carry themselves in a civilized manner, they will soon follow as well.


Democracy. Bureaucracy. Son of a ****.

It was too late to contain this ****. They should have killed him too. Should have announced that he was found to have helped Zoey escape. It wouldn't have been hard. In the chaos after Samuel's death was announced he could have directed the people any which way he pleased.

He lowers his gaze, looking down at the desk and contemplating his next move.

"**** that guy Ellis, he can't question us."

"No...no...he can. He's alive so he can question us, and he's already spread his doubts upon the populace. We can't ignore him, we sure as hell can't eliminate him...****,"

Ellis takes a deep breath.

"He thinks he has some claim to The Warren, little rat *****....we've got to be careful."

"Ok...ok Ellis...maybe we can hire someone to kill him...and then we can..." Stane's eyes light up, "We can hold a trial for them, just like - "

"No you fool, we JUST did that with Zoey, you can never pull the same trick twice. His death would only lead to questioning, whoever we hire might talk, and no matter how well we make the point that he is a murderer it would lead to doubt amongst the people."

Stane should have known that.

"Hell," Ellis thinks to himself, "Maybe I should get rid of Stane too before he does something stupid...it's nice having a bumper though."

"William has declared war. I see that, you see that, he sure as hell sees it...and the people will see it too. If we respond with a threat we're playing his game. We're going to turn this on him. We'll embrace an election with open arms."

"But -"

"Shut the **** up Stane."

"We'll announce by noon that we are grateful for his suggestions and agree whole-heartedly. You Stane, you will make the announcement. Be sure to mention that while I am too busy reading through Samuel's notes to come down at the moment I will fully support the democratization of The Warren. It'll buy me some time."

"Ok....." Stane responds hesitantly.

"Relax my friend. William will think he has caught me by surprise. He will believe that the inevitable effect of the introduction of this democracy will be his own election, he underestimates me Stane. I will embrace democracy, I will be elected "democratically" and he will have no recourse but to accept it. And then Stane, when I have been duly elected by the People he will have no choice but to obey me. That my friend, that is when we will twist the blade. He will pay for his insurrection."

"OK but -"

"No. There is no but. Relay my message. I will be busy putting together my speech and possible retorts, leave me be until I call for you."







~Arthur Kaplan, Leader of the Notoh Tribe : The CDC Building~

Kaplan sits collapsed in a control center deep within the Center for Disease Control outpost. He brushes his hands through his greying hair, clenches them behind his head, and settles deeper into the chair.

Human beings are incredible things. After all the **** that had gone down in the past several years, war for those from The Warren and god only knows what for these new comers, after the tragedies they had all undoubtedly experienced they were still so quick to forge alliances and perhaps, in time, friendships.

It was an essential requirement of humanity, one could not be alone it was unacceptable. Just as he had found himself incapable of just holing up in the facility so these few had come together. How curious that they had found each other.

He looks up to the ceiling of this small control room, seeing only concrete, rubber, and electronics...but he wasn't really looking at the ceiling and he wasn't really looking with his eyes. He was looking up to the heavens. A believer, he wondered if Samuel, Murrow, Collie, Mac, and perhaps some of those lost in the war whose names he had never come to know....he wondered if perhaps they could see what had come to pass.

He had had his talks with Murrow throughout the war and then with increasing frequency when the war was finally finishing up. He had never known what Murrow believed, but he hoped the man had come to know some sort of peace. It was hard to believe with the world the way it was, but the images flickering in and out on his screen fill Arthur Kaplan with hope.

He smiles and cries softly onto the cold tile floor.

MIRVIN

"Thanks, real nice of ya." After opening the bottle and consuming a brief drink, the young woman gave another glance to her new acquaintance, admitting, "With everyone talkin' and all, I didn't hear ya if or when you introduced yourself. So what do ya call yourself?"

"That is quite alright young miss, as Mr Frank used to say "We're all in this together now". I am called Mirvin". As he said this Mirvin raised and extended his fully functioning arm towards the woman, offering a handshake. He didn't know if the young woman would accept the gesture, but he understood that social protocol called for an offered handshake along with the introduction. "And what is your' name young miss?"

Miss Zoey was speaking to the gentleman in the smart looking hat. Apparently he was looking for someone, but Miss Zoey couldn't help although she said that the woman may be in a town called The Warren. A search of Mirvin's memory files showed no matches for a town by that name in the area, but many of the places Mirvin had seen since leaving Mr Frank didn't match the files in Mirvin's memory.

Miss Zoey continued speaking, delivering an impassioned speach with the theme "Who dares wins", the speach was filled with passion and vigour. Miss Zoey reminded Mirvin of Mr Frank for a moment, there had been times, usually when he was arguing a point with Mr Eddie when he had sounded almost the same. Not for the first time Mirvin wondered what had become of Mr Frank.

Mr Cain wheeled himself over to Miss Zoey's side, placing his hand on her shoulder in a human act of solidarity and empathy and said that he was willing to follow her. The gentleman in the hat also pledged his support.

The young miss by Mirvin regarded the growing group "I'd be glad to help ya out, Zoey. Though I'd like to know more later." she said. She seemed remarkably logical, for a human.

Mirvin turned and waddled over to Miss Zoey. "A moment ago Mr Cain made an offer for me to remain with your group, he suggested that perhaps this would help me find a llife. If you find it acceptable I too will join your group."

Zoey's speech was unexpected, and Harry didn't really understand. His reports read that there were problems within the Warren, but Harry had left long ago, and the Warren was just a distant memory to him. But Zoey seemed so passionate, it must be important.

This goes against everything you believe in Harry

But so what? Maybe it was time for a change, it was time to stop living in the shadow and shame of the Commander, he was his own man now, and he knew that this was the time to act, not hide.

Ryan marched over to Harry, followed by David and Robert. Ryan spoke first: "We know what you're thinking. That girl Zoey needs our help, its our duty remember? We made a pledge to help those who need it, no matter the cost."

"I know Ryan, enough hiding, its time to do something important. At one point we worked to make this world a better place, and I think its time we tried again."

Harry burst into the tent with Ryan, Dave, and Rob following.

"We're in. Though I'm not sure what it is you're doing. I am sure of one thing, you're gonna need us soon, and it is our duty to help."

Ryan added in, laughing, "Consider us your new, personal killing machines."

The man's gun lowered, which let up some of the slack and tension for Johnny. He was still nervous though, the man hadn't dropped his weapon yet.

"Alright, I've thought it over and I think you might come on handy. Just do me one thing and give me a full explanation as to why you're here. My apologies for this inconvenience but I can't lower this gun until I'm sure you're not really here to kill me." He said warily.

"My name is Johnny. I'm the son of Jeannie-May Collins." Johnny took the time to [slowly] pull out his mothers WPF badge and threw it to the table in front of him. "She worked for you..." He suddenly got choked up at the thought of her death once again, painfully remembering when he first entered the Warren with high hopes of actually living with her again, and then to walk into their old house and find it empty. He'd asked around for her, than eventually found out the worst was true. He brought himself back to reality.

"She was killed in action. I would like for you to employ me, I have nothing else to really live for, and I'm not planning on heading back out to the wastes, not knowing when the next meal would be. Just gimme a gun and tell me where to shoot." His hands hang limply at his sides now and although he was still somewhat timid, he could at least string together proper sentences.

"And your name is?"

NOTE: Hi everyone, nice to see this up again. Nice to see some new faces around here, and so far it looks like the RP's doing great. I personally won't be around for too long, it's just temporary, but I'll make of this character what I can while I'm still here. I'll have an OP up later, so this post isn't a huge wall of a CS and OP.


Name: Ali
Age: 33
Race: Human Lebanese-Jordanian
Gender: Male
Height: 5’11
Weight: 190 lbs

Hair Length/Style: Short bit messy Fohawk
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Skin Color: Light Brown

Body Tone/Appearance

- Pure Muscle
- Very little body fat
- Thin Athletic build.
- Strong yet war weary face

Scars

- Small scar down his left cheek.

Armor/Clothes

- Authority Sunglasses
- W&R Checkered Keffiyeh Scarf
- Dirty White T-shirt
- Light-tan Cargo Pants
- Leather Armored Biker Jacket
- Black Combat Boots
- Fingerless Leather Gloves

Weapons

- Browning Automatic Rifle (B.A.R.)
- Browning Hi-Power Pistol (9mm Pistol) w/drop-legged holster
- Kukri Knife w/sheath across the lower back
- x4 Frag Grenades

Gear/Food/Misc

- Binoculars
- Extra Ammo for BAR
- Extra Ammo for Hi-Power
- x6 Stimpacks
- x4 Med-X
- x3 Beer
- Water Canteen
- x5 Brahmin Jerky

Bio: Ali grew up in what was once known as Lebanon. He lived a normal Lebanese life, doing various things for his uncle’s shop in Beirut, but soon Ali found himself tangled up with a whole new group of people; ones who others would consider a terrorist group. The group was the Abu Nidal, and after doing many things in and around the Middle East against the European Commonwealth’s forces, Ali soon found himself in the depths of the United States, a country that considered Ali and the Abu Nidal, a terrorist organization.

His leader had been Mohammed, a strong and willing man, who would give his very life to sacrifice for the good of what they believed in. When a man named John Holmes came into the picture though, Ali was not so sure if Mohammed was himself anymore. Before their contact with those who lived in the Warren, Mohammed had been a blood thirsty, and ruthless killer to his enemies. But now, now that Mohammed had one of the Warren’s own, the Jordanian leader now was more at ease and relaxed on his attacks. He wasn’t so ruthless and eager for war.

During the Abu Nidal-Warren War, Jerusalem became a hotbed of action and chaos. Those who couldn’t fight were driven back into the wastelands of Kansas, now made to fight for their lives again, against all the elements. Ali was one who could fight, and did fight. He fought proud and with honor, but during the heat of battle, Ali was grazed on the cheek by a bullet, which gave him his scar. With all the chaos and the near death experience, Ali collapsed and probably seemed dead to whoever had shot him, and his fellow Abu Nidal. But the man was not dead, and when the fighting ceased, Ali once again awoke to find his robes covered in blood. Luckily for him, parts of Jerusalem still stood and the Abu Nidal still held the city.

It wasn’t long until Jerusalem was back in the action, along with Ali to defend it. He killed more men in Jerusalem and the rest of the city, than he had ever killed before. Death hardly effected the man, he had seen so much of it, that he was numb to the pain and sorrow that fighting and war brought. When the fighting ended, and then started up again, Ali was there to fight it out to his last breath. But in the end, Ali and the rest of the Abu Nidal were defeated, scattered amongst the wasteland and ruins, to live lives where they could.

Ali, having nowhere to call home, wandered around Wichita, looking for somewhere to call home. He knew he couldn’t go to the Warren, they would probably kill him on sight if they found out he was Abu Nidal. That very idea made Ali nervous and angry at the same time, but in the end, he discarded all that was once Abu Nidal; all except his white and red checkered Keffiyeh scarf that he had brought along with him from Lebanon.

After surviving the years after the War, and hearing of the Warren’s own chaotic downfall, Ali started to make his way back from the far reaches of the Kansas Wasteland, back to Wichita where he might be able to find people at the Warren, friendlier to his old cause.

Zoey carried on carving the diagram in the ground. Everyone joined her in the tent offering support, Zoey felt Cain's hand on her shoulder

"Consider us your new, personal killing machines." Zoey laughed in response to Ryan's words

"thanks Ryan, but me and Sarah are capable of being that too" Zoey did however appreciate the comment, it was nice knowing she had some extra back up, she nodded at Harry and his team, when we get the Warren back maybe they could be military advisor's she wandered.

"A moment ago Mr Cain made an offer for me to remain with your group, he suggested that perhaps this would help me find a life. If you find it acceptable I too will join your group." The Robot's voice made Zoey smile, she turned and looked at him

"I'd be more than happy for you to join us, i apologize i never took your name Mr Robot. I have to say i admire your enthusiasm" Zoey looked at everyone else

"Thank you, everyone" Zoey stared at the rough map she had drawn, then at her group and their respective skill sets

"I have tasks for each of you, Harry i need you and your team to do a three day reconnaissance of the Warren, there is hills around which should give you good vantage points. I suspect Ellis will be hiring Black station mercs, you know those [censored]s that will do anything for money but do not engage recon only. Kathy, Mr Robot and man looking for a woman named Manchester, i apologize i don't know your name, I need you to get into the Warrens admin building attached directly to the theater and find the warrens residence list, you might find Miss Manchester's name on the list. Cain i need you to get in contact with William of the WPF bing him here to meet me. Sarah me and you are going to get supply's from our old base. Again thank you everyone, any questions?"

Damien Marx

Zoey started to give everybody their own orders and I smiled a bit. I thought of all the battles I've fought in both after and before the Great War and all of the orders I had cranked out for my men. Back then, I felt like the only true General outside the U.S military. Now there was no U.S military and the woman in front of me seems like a very competent General.

She turned to me and gave me my orders. "Kathy, Mr Robot and man looking for a woman named Manchester, i apologize i don't know your name, I need you to get into the Warrens admin building attached directly to the theater and find the warrens residence list, you might find Miss Manchester's name on the list."

I adjusted my fedora and sunglasses. "My name is Damien Marx for future reference. And consider the job done."

I took out my Uzi, the medium sized sub-machine gun reflecting a bit of the sun. I loaded the gun and turned the safety to "disengaged", knowing that the Warren most likely have found the body of the man I executed an hour or two ago. In a minute, I took notice of woman and robot assigned to my "squad". With a quick scan, the robot seemed to be the most effective unit of my squad but I quickly shook the thought from my head, knowing that humans are usually more valuable in a battle than robots...hopefully.

Before I headed off, I faced Zoey with my Uzi still in my hand. "Where I've been in battle, I've taken it to myself to explain to new squad members what their comrade's skills are. I hope you can take that liberty with me."

--Katherine Adler
Notah Camp

Kathy noticed the robot politely continue introductions, Mirvin, as he stood beside her. The moment she had the chance, she slightly swiveled on her heel to face him again, as smoothly and gracefully making a handshake with the Protectron's metal claw as possible. The girl had never performed such a thing with metal hands-ones not even conveniently shaped like a humans, but she did her best. As the advlt-just barely an advlt-managed the action with slight awkwardness, she detailed her own title, "Technically, name's Katherine Adler. But just call me Kathy." The tone was lighthearted enough, especially considering the way she had initially behaved at the camp, but there was applied a certain amount of seriousness and almost authority in her voice at the final "request" that it was clear she didn't appreciate being formal.

Zoey didn't really respond, so to speak, to Kathy's earlier statement about the sort of requirements the young, pre-war individual had to participate in the event. The requirement of being promised more elaborate knowledge once there was the time, and that time had to be before the just now recuperating wastelander became deeply involved and unable to alter past actions, before she was unable to correct mistakes. Yet, the older woman was probably busy-and for the moment, Kathy wouldn't pester her about it. Though the brunette's tired face did look somewhat cross-in a partially almost pouting, irritated way-over the matter. There was even more of a negative reaction on her part at the mention of teams-oh joy, the demand of cooperation and the likelihood that some ass hole was going to try to call the shots, like he(as there was no girl aside from herself on her "team") knew better than all others. The robot wasn't going to be an issue-in the most probable case. Thus far Kathy found quite an appreciation for Mirvin, saw him as likable and pleasant.

However, the other guy-"Damien Marx" he called himself-was a stranger, he was already discussing with Zoey like she was the ultimate leader and he a more subordinate leader. The latter of the two didn't seem so accurate of positions, and Kathy reacted with a rather deep grimace. Especially when the man played with his uzi. There was a crossing of her own arms, and a raise of the brow.

"Hey, Damien-you know what? I'm gonna call ya Marx 'til I can think of a nickname for that-we don't need to go kill everyone to get to the list ya know. Don't get too excited with your gun there. If it's total Hell, and we can't avoid it, fine-but laying low would be the better option. Both on our way there and during our moving about in there. If we're going to take the Ellis and Stane guys down, and not destroy the whole of the town in the process-which doesn't sound like most people here want to do-we can't flash our presence around with bullets, bombs, and all that good crap." Of course, she could be simply misjudging his intentions-but most aren't so quick to disengage the damn safety. Before they even start trying to do whatever they're right to do.

"Erm-how would the Warren react to a robot, speaking of which? I don't want Mirvin here having to shoot frenzied civilians because they're trying to rip off spare parts from a functioning machine-or for people to stare at us because of 'im...If they're bad about it, and if you-Marx-want to shoot all the people up in your way, it might be best if I just slip in and out and get the list for ya. Or write down a copy, or somethin'."

Of course, she didn't really want to do this fetching-for-a-list-for-Marx "mission" either, she didn't know who Manchester was, why she should care, or why Marx cared. But she had agreed to help, and a quick little chore of a thing like this really wasn't likely to be painfully difficult. So long as no one brought attention to themselves in this place, and so long as the place didn't pay attention to who was entering and leaving.

William lowered his gun and stared at the old badge that lay in front of him. He believed the kid now, but he was feeling like a real jerk so he tried to make it up to the kid. "My apologies for the trouble Mr. Collins . I am William Penn, Chief of the Warren Police Force, Director of the Warren Administrative Bureau, and the commanding officer of the Warren Enforcer Corps, a subdivision of the WPF. I wasn't too familiar with your mother personally but for what its worth, I'm sorry for your loss."

He walked over to his desk and filled up a cup of tea from his trusty teapot and handed it to Johnny. "Take a seat Mr. Collins." He said, sipping at his own cup of tea to steady his nerves after his overreaction previously.

He felt sorry for the kid, he truly did, but if Johnny was going to join he would have to pull his own weight. "I think I might be able to find a place for you here in our little fortress. Let me tell you what you need to know, our former leader President Jessop was killed under mysterious circumstances and now the Warren has been taken over by a military dictator, Ellis."

William stood up and walked over to the wall behind his desk, where a board map of the Warren lay. He pointed to the Warren theater, "This, is the grand palace of our new glorious leader." William then shifted his finger to the Warren Police Station. "Here, is where we are. I want you to understand this, by joining me you will have sealed your fate. From here, its victory or death. We are utterly outmatched and surrounded. As of now we have no allies and few resources, it is only through the massive efforts of the Enforcer Corps that the Station and the Administration building remains under our control."

He waved his hand over the rest of the Warren. "Everything beyond a block away is under the full control of Ellis and Stane. If we are to prevail over such a powerful foe we will need to use every means possible to achieve victory. This will not be as simple as taking a gun and pointing it at Ellis and Stane." William figured he was probably scaring the kid too much so he tried scale back on the dramatic presentation.

He sat back down and drove in his final points. "As of two hours ago, I have initiated the first strike at Ellis. I wrote a letter and distributed it around the Warren, its asking him to open up to a public election and gives him no choice but to let the people decide who the leaders should be. To win this fight we're going to go at him from every angle possible, this first strike has a pretty big chance of backfiring on us. Either we win the hearts and mind of the people or Ellis gains legitimacy. He'll no doubt try to win through illegal methods so we'll have to be ten times smarter to win."

Now he had to go to outline on the duties and responsibilities of a WPF officer and what he expected from them. "When you join the WPF, not only do you have to be physically fit, your mind had to be sharp as well. That's what keeps us above the thugs around here, we're not the best fighters or have the most guns, but we have the most dedicated and intelligent people there are. We're taking on a big enemy now, we'll need every officer to be on his best behavior. As a WPF officer you will adhere to and enforce the law to the letter. You must be able to show self control and restraint at all times. We are the glue that keeps the Warren civilized."

William took out a new badge that he assigned to officers and plopped it down on his desk with a heavy thud. "Now, what do you say Mr. Collins? Do you think you have the wits and the skill to join our ranks? I'm in need of a new sidekick anyway." He said the last sentence with a slight smile on his lips.

There was just one last thing that needed to be said, "When you join me, you had better leave your vengeance at the door. Our work is more important than any one of us. I'm sure your mother will understand that."

Damien Marx

As I was talking to Zoey, the girl who I somewhat overlooked went up to me. "Hey, Damien-you know what? I'm gonna call ya Marx 'til I can think of a nickname for that-we don't need to go kill everyone to get to the list ya know. Don't get too excited with your gun there. If it's total Hell, and we can't avoid it, fine-but laying low would be the better option. Both on our way there and during our moving about in there. If we're going to take the Ellis and Stane guys down, and not destroy the whole of the town in the process-which doesn't sound like most people here want to do-we can't flash our presence around with bullets, bombs, and all that good crap."

I raised an eyebrow. "Katherine, has it ever occurred to you that maybe there will be thugs in a hellhole? If anything, the extra guns will provide safety. We're not attacking a fortified stronghold, we're on a fetch quest in a slum town. The guns will instill fear and intimidate would be attackers, minimizing attacks and lowering morale of attackers."

With a smirk, I looked back at Katherine. "Unless you're willing to wade through beggars and thugs. If so, I'll be glad to transfer to a different team." Maybe I was wrong about Katherine, she at least seems to know a bit about low risk extraction missions. But this has to be swift. I will find Evelyn...whether it be her grave or her living figure.

Ali - Outside Wichita

Gunfire rang in the empty streets of Wichita, carried far and wide by the stone walls as more and more gunfire, rang out in the cool air. Where the gunfire was coming from, it was hard to say, the echoes against the walls made it sound like gunfire was coming from all around the city; but actually, in a small part of the city, in an old building that was three stories tall, the flashes of gunfire could be seen from one of the windows on the second floor. Anyone who saw them could also see that down below, on the ground, pounding hard against the barricaded doors and windows, feral ghouls were trying to get in.

There wasn’t a lot of guns, just one in fact, an automatic rifle that fired away into the horde of ghouls that seemed almost endless. The shooter was Ali, and by the way he handled the old B.A.R, it was clear to anyone that he wasn’t a novice to firearms or the weapon itself.

Inside the building, hidden and gathered together in fear was a family, or what looked to be a family. The father of the family kept his wife and children close, covering them with himself as Ali fired away. It seemed none of the family members had a gun, not even a knife or anything that could be used to make an improvised explosive, and possibly clear away the horde of ghouls so the family and Ali could make a break.

The wife and daughter in the family cried and held each other, the brother and son in the family cringed and held his mother close as well as the father tried speaking to them over the gunfire; telling them that everything would be okay. But his words were drowned out by the gunfire and wailing of feral ghouls down below.

“GET OVER HERE!” Ali shouted to the father before shooting down at the ghoul’s again. The father only turned to look, his head lightly shaking as he stayed by his family. “GET THE [censored] OVER HERE!” Ali demanded once more when he realized the father wasn’t coming.

“YOU’RE DOING FINE! YOU DON’T NEED ME! THEY NEED ME!” The father shouted. Ali just rolled his eyes, unable to say another word when a loud bang and cracking noise came from the ghouls.

“What was that!” The mother asked, looking at Ali.

“They’re in!” He said looking down to see the horde flooding in. “They’ve made it in the building, you’re not safe here, you’ve got to get out!”

“Out? You’re the one with the gun, shoot them in they try and get in here!” The father demanded, getting out of line with Ali.

“Listen here [censored], I tried helping, it’s my life or yours, and right now I’m looking out for number one!”

“You can’t, they’ll kill us! We’re not armed like you are! Give me a grenade, just one grenade, and your pistol.” The father pleaded. Ali just shook his head, hurrying from the window, over to his rucksack that carried all his things.

“Good luck, but I’m out of here. If you want safety, follow me. The door we nailed up won’t hold the horde back for long, so you’re best bet is to make it to the roof, or follow me.”

The father hesitated, the wife and children looking to their husband and father as he contemplated what to do. But Ali wasn’t ready to stick around, and quickly got his B.A.R loaded with a fresh box magazine.

“I’m leaving out that window, so the choice is yours, I’m definitely not sticking around to get eaten.”

But Ali’s words fell on deaf ears, as the father continued to hesitated, from either pure fear or uncertainty of Ali and what he might do after they were safe. Both parties knew that only one of them needed each other, and that was the family needed Ali.

Without a second thought, Ali moved to the window, grabbing a long piece of rope that didn’t quite make it down to the ground, but was close enough that he wouldn’t hurt his ankle or leg in the drop.

Suddenly the wailing and hissing of feral ghouls echoed up the stairway as the ghoulish horde made their way up, Ali tying off the rope to a supporting pole, and throwing the rope down. The wife was frozen with fear, and her two children who were malnourished, with sunken cheeks and exposed ribs, held tight to their mother for protection. Ali didn’t give it a second thought, the minute he heard the first footsteps on the floor come through the door, he started down the rope, dropping safely to the ground and checking to make sure no ghouls were going to come out and bite him.

Up on the second floor though, the banging of the nailed door could be heard, and suddenly screams from the wife and children echoed as the horde broke through. Ali shook his head in pity, not for the father, it was clear he was incompetent anyway, and it was a surprise he had survived so long the way he and his family had. No, his pity was for those young children and a stupid wife. Screams and cried came from the room as Ali booked it to the street, looking up and down the road, before heading off towards the Warren.

“WAIT!” A sudden cry from the room echoed. Ali turned to see that it was the little girl, probably only nine, crawling down the rope, her ragged clothes were covered in the blood of her parents and probably.

“What the hell are you doing? Get off there, hurry up!” Ali exclaimed, running over to her with his B.A.R drawn and ready.

“I’m coming with you,” the young girl said as if she was older. “Please mister, please!”

Ali had no choice, the ghoul’s would be back down the stairs in minutes, and they had to get out of there. If not, the ghoul’s would have the girl for breakfast as well.

“Alright, come with me, we’ve got to hurry thought.”

The girl nodded and took Ali’s hand, running along side him as the wailing and moaning of ghoul’s echoed from the building.


***

When the two were far enough away, Ali led the girl into an old gas station, closing up the doors and keeping the her close before she moved into what looked to be the abandoned shop.

“Stay right here, I’m gonna check the back room for anything bad, alright?”

The girl simply nodded and took a seat on the floor, panting and catching her breath from all the running.

“It’s safe, you can come back here,” Ali said from the back room, setting his things down on the old office table.

“What is this place?” The girl asked curious.

“An old gas station. We’ll rest up here for a bit, and then move on, okay?”

“I can’t run anymore, my feet hurt,” she moaned, sitting in an old dusty chair that let out a billow of dust as she collapsed into it. Ali checked her feet, seeing that she had suffered some little scraqes and cuts coming down the rope, and while they were running.

“Alright, you don’t have to run or walk. I’ll wrap up your feet so they don’t get infected. But first I’ve got to pour some stuff on them that will make them clean, okay?”

The little girl nodded nervously, surprisingly welcoming of Ali, even though just a while ago, he had left her and her family for dead. She winced and let out little tears as Ali poured some water on her dirty feet. He took a look around before doing anything else, finding an old bottle of whiskey in the office desk drawer.

“This’ll clean it up better,” Ali said with a smile, dabbing a clean enough rag with the whiskey.

“AHHH!” The little girl exclaimed, crying as the stinging burn of the alcohol cleaned the bacteria in her wounds. “STOP! STOP!” She cried, pushing the rag away. Ali struggled with her a bit, letting the alcohol do what it could as he got another rag and wrapped her feet up.

“I guess I’ll have to carry you on my shoulders then from here on out until we get you some decent shoes.”

The little girl nodded with a bit of pleasure, even though the sting of the whiskey still burned her feet.

“My name’s Madeline,” the little girl said with a smile.

“Mine’s Ali. It’s nice to meet you Madeline. How old are you?”

“Eight, nearly nine!”

Ali smiled, taking a seat of his own as he downed some of the whiskey from the bottle.

“Do you have anything to eat?” Madeline asked hungrily.

Ali nodded, pulling out what he had and tossed it to the little girl. She ate the jerky with a fierceness Ali hadn’t ever seen in a little girl before. Sure there had been times in his youth where he hadn’t eaten for a couple of days or more, but it was obvious this girl hadn’t eaten in possibly weeks.

“Take it easy, don’t eat it all so fast. You’ll choke.” Ali mentioned, downing the rest of the whiskey in the bottle.

“So where did you come from?” Madeline asked with a mouth full of jerky.

“Where? Oh, far away, Madeline, far away from anywhere here.” He said in his mild Lebanese accent. Since his time in America, and his time speaking English, his accent of speaking Lebanese Arabic had sort of gone away, even though every now and again he spoke to himself in Lebanese to make sure he wasn’t loosing his language or accent; he had already lost most of his heritage.

“Were you alive before the big explosions happened?”

Ali nodded, looking at her and realizing she was probably thirsty.

“Here, have some water,” he said offering her his canteen. “Drink it slow, that has to go between us both.”

Madeline nodded and smiled, taking the large circular canteen in both hands and gulping the water down, handing it back to Ali when she’d finished. He sighed, looking down into the canteen but realizing that she had hardly drunken any of it.

“Alright, let’s get going, we’ll find a place to get some food on our walk. But right now, we’ve got to get moving, alright?”

The little girl nodded as Ali slipped on his rucksack and knelt down on a knee, allowing Madeline to get up on his shoulders.

“Where are we going?” Madeline asked, resting her hands around him as he got up of his knee.

“A place called the Warren. We might be able to get some food and new clothes from there?”

“Is it safe,” she asked as they left the gas station.

“We’ll see when we get there,” Ali said slipping on his authority sunglasses and adjust his keffiyeh over his nose. “We’ll just have to see kid.”

Zoey gave Harry his "orders". He was willing to accept her leadership, and knew they she was fully capable, its been a while since hes been given orders, he liked it, it gave him purpose. Harry thought to himself, thats why ur doing this right? So you can have purpose, so you can be a part of something again.

Two people from another group began bickering about how to approach their mission. David chuckled, "Typical, you can't expect these people to work together, they don't know what its like to be a part of a team, their loners."

Ryan shot back, "You know better than to speak like that McHenry, that superiority complex is what got your Commander killed, remember that."

Those words were like stones in Harry's heart. He flexed, then spoke directly to the two wasters quarreling.

"The girl is right, your not gonna get anywhere flashing your guns like you own the place, you need to know subtlety, you need to blend in, that the only way your getting in. There will be a time and place for heavy weaponry, but there is a time and place for everything soldier."

From behind Harry heard Robert slide a new magazine into his rifle.

"We're all together on this. The Warren used to be my home. The Warren was my best friends grave. I've learned from his mistakes, and you sir, still have a lot to learn, listen to the girl, listen to what other people have to say, your not always right."

~Cain Johnson~

"Cain, I need you to get in contact with William of the WPF bring him here to meet me," Zoey said.

"Sure thing, ma'am," I had my own concerns.

Why was I the one getting William, would he trust the word of a ghoul opposed to the word of a girl? I could do a simple fetch quest for her, but she was the leader, it was her plan and I would let her decide it as she wanted to. I notice out of the corner of my eye the Kathy and Marx were arguing, they were also working as team on the same mission.

Well best to work out their differences now than later, when you'll need your teamwork.

I made sure my rifle was ready and put in the back of my chair, I turned back to Zoey and the others,

"I'm off, best of luck," a general I hope you survive message.

*

I rolled my chair into The Warren slowly, my eyes sharp. I needed to find the WPF. As I was rolling down the streets, a hand grabbed by my shoulder and it's grip tightened,

"What the [censored] is a ghoul during here,"

I sighed and reached my right arm and grasped him by his arm with bruising strength.

"Agh! Get the hell off me, I don't want to be infected," he screamed as I tightened my grip.

"Then why the [censored] did you touch me," I growled as I flung him down in front of me.

He was skinny, ribs showing from starvation and he had sickly pale complexion. If he came from this town it was no better of than any place in the Wastes. Zoey was right, this leaders needed to go. It didn't matter if they murdered someone, they were running this town into the ground. I pulled out my rifle and pointed it at him,

"Where is the WPF?"

He looked up at me, hazel eyes darting left right, chest heaving.

"You mean the one William runs?" Slightly dazed from the whole ordeal.

"Is there another run?"

"Down over there is there headquarters," he raised a shaking hand.

"Thanks, now run before I blow your balls off."

He didn't need a second warning and took flight.

I made my way down to the WPF headquarters. Outside I was a posted guard who looked rather...dead. He looked at me with a strnage disgust that quickly fell back to an emotionless stare.

"I need to see William."

"William is busy at the moment and he can't be bothered, especially by ghouls."

"Tell him it's a friend of Zoey's, please."

He looked at me for a moment, then turned and went inside. Quickly returning,

"Your message will be delivered."

I turned around and surveyed the streets. At the corner I could see a couple people gathering, the boy I had thrown was pointing at me and they were glaring. I kept my rifle on my lap and was prepared to use it.

C'mon, answer me William.

OOC: Sorry for the lack of emotion in this post. It's kinda of dull.

The light, vibrantly brown face wrinkled further and further into irritation, frustration. "Oh, yes, and has it ever occurred to you that there might be people watching, people of authority? I don't know much anything about the Warren, but I know a few things about human nature and authority-crap like that. Sure there's a few people who might harass us, but you shouldn't try to draw attention to yourself and simply shoot anything and everything like a d*mn ape holdin' a gun! I'll happily "wade" through some thugs and freaks, who I can easily keep from noticing me or bothering me anyways, than cause the whole town to surround me. I'll happily "wade" through a pit of sh*t to keep the pit's kings from being on alert and trying to kill me. Unless we have to, we shouldn't be waving around our guns-it'll be more of a waste of time, effort, and life to do that than not. Making yourself obvious doesn't prevent attacks, it encourages it."

"And the name's Kathy."

One side of her nose wrinkled, causing her eyes to momentarily narrow in an angry glower-as if she had been ready to curl her lip and snarl at that. He called her "Katherine" intentionally, didn't he? As if she was a child, right? As if she were more stupid than he?
Arrogant little--her body tensed slightly, a sort of harshness poisoning her already existent irritation. D*mn brute.

F***, she hated teams.

It was to Kathy's surprise that one of the military men-...Harry or somethin'- actually supported her own argument. Having stood upright, but with harshly enclosed fists in her enlarging, indignant anger, her face seemed to almost revert to an entirely emotionless look-aside from the hints of surprise across her face. As if the traveler wasn't quite sure how to react. This was especially so, when considering the fact it was a military man, as the military had never sat well with Adler. Even if it officially still existed, there would be no way she could have suffered through it-she was skilled with guns and repair, but her strength-and far more so her view on authority, morals and such-wasn't quite "appropriate" for the stupid codes and standards.

Still, there was the slightest trace of satisfaction, as could be seen on her face, that someone had judged her as the one with better, more strategic thinking on the matter. Compliments, even if was just a matter of who was supposedly right, weren't a common thing.

"Thanks," came with a sort of short nod of recognition.

"It won't take long to slip through the place," she stated, returning to the issue and clearly having relented on the matter of her anger-mostly, "We just get in, get out-and try to avoid making a bunch of noise in the process. Not exciting to you, maybe, but it'll get the job done without killing a bunch of people who we really don't have to kill." And Kathy was by no means a pacifist, she had plenty of other reasons behind her plans and actions.

Damien Marx

I watched another person, Harry, support Katherine's argument. But unlike the woman, Harry seemed to be more "militaristic" and have a sort of soldier air, something I respect. But it was just another irritant. I truly didn't care about the Warren but it was a strategic vantage point for me and it would be easier to "coerce" ten people rather than massacre a town and lose all potential slaves and soldiers.

The two did raise good points, it was an extraction mission in the heart and I didn't wish to mention my somewhat public execution of a Warren citizen until we got there but they left no choice...of course there was always a way for me to win.

I chuckled inwardly to see Kathy tense up. But I shrugged it off and looked outside near the skyline to see the Warren. "You may be true...but again, we're not dealing with a fortress here, we're dealing with a medium sized city. And I believe those authority figures you mentioned most likely will not have guns to a caliber of what we have. And even if they do...the probability they'll have training to our level is slim.

There is no such thing as an unworthy kill in city battles. We're not talking about some small tribe here either, it's a city. And if we were to kill ten civilians, that's ten less possible militia forces. Not to mention reduce morale. "

I saw the irritation on Kathy's face and that was when I truly began to doubt her as a comrade of the war to come. "And from your irritation, you'd most likely pull the trigger first. Back before the Great War, the first thing I trained my men to do was to drown out all impulses and run on pure logic and instinct. Obviously I don't have the authority to do so but keep that in mind in the missions to come."

Harry then caught my eye. "But however," I clicked the safety off and glared at Kathy, "I will comply and go incognito. And as for your statement of me getting excitement for bloodshed. I only wish to find Evelyn among the dirty trolls that walk the Warren."

I headed out and turned my head back to Kathy. "Watch yourself Katherine Adler."

OOC:

I'm not really sure where the notion of The Warren as a chaotic hellhole came from...but let's keep in mind it had enough structure to encourage Ellis to murder Samuel and frame Zoey in order that he might became the leader. It also has enough structure that Zoey, her unit, and all of you are trying to take it back. It has a military, a police force, markets, and a gate.

I'm not saying you should treat it like Fort Doom (isn't that the last part of LOTR?) but try not to downplay it too much, it kind of makes the story make less sense.

Also, and this is something I struggle with too...

Let's try to keep our actions semi-synched at least.

I wasn't sure if it was the time to post my last post with Ellis and Stane talking...

Cain is already in The Warren so let's assume that my post begins shortly after all or, if you prefer, most of you that are trying to get in have gotten in.

PS Welcome back Dr.Strangelove, I like your new character already.


~The Warren~

"Sir? Sir? Where is Ellis, I need to talk to him!" A soldier shouts out, running down the street behind Stane.

"What's wrong soldier?"

"I'd really rather speak with Ellis sir."

Stane feels a pressure in his chest as he suppresses his anger.

"Ellis. Isn't. Here. Right Now. What's Wrong. Soldier."

The soldier catches on that this may not be the best time to insist on speaking directly with Ellis, and besides the news needs to get out.

"Sir, there have been some events as of late that have caught the interest of our men. Posters have been pu-"

"I know about that soldier, William is calling for an election."

"Yes sir, but did you know that a man was seemingly assassinated just yesterday?"

Stane's confusion shows through quickly.

"Not just that sir, but a ghoul...a CIVILIZED ghoul at that has been spotted in town."

"A what?"

"A civilized ghoul sir, in a wheelchair actually. He got into a bit of a tussle but came out on top."

Stane looks down clenching his fists.

Ellis can't be bothered. He'd have to make the decisions here.

"Lock this town down son. No one comes in without my say so and no one leaves period. Ellis will be hosting that debate soon, everyone in The Warren would do well to listen to it, friend or foe to this administration."

With that said Stane quickens his pace, walking to the town center to confront this zombie ****.


In the Warren Theatre Ellis paces back and forth working a groove into the carpeting. He has memorized most of his talking points and his responses to what he expects William to say. He repeats them in his mind until they become deeply embedded, he breathes heavily trying to psyche himself up.





~Arthur Kaplan : The CDC Building~

Kaplan has stopped crying and has instead simply began to take notes.

He wants to go help. He wants to lead....but the simply reality is he is getting too damn old and too damn tired to lead. His only hope to do any good in this world is to advise. To give his knowledge, experience, and heart to a new leader...but a new leader cannot develop if the old leader refuses to give up the reins.

So he suppresses the desire to go down there and talk with this newly forming group.

Murrow had been right, Zoey was a born leader. The best thing he could do to help at this moment was to simply lay low and let her lead. He would support her and her team regardless of the outcomes of this day or any other. In defeat he would speak with her and the others about what had gone wrong and how they might fix it, in triumph he would ask what they might do to build upon it.

In time each of them would experience triumphs and tragedies together and become stronger for it, both as individuals and as a group.

He shuffles about in the control room keeping an eye on the groups dynamics...what tangled webs we weave.

Johnny Collins

As a reaction to what Johnny had to say, he lowered both his head and his weapon, relieving Johnny immensely.

"My apologies for the trouble Mr. Collins. I am William Penn, Chief of the Warren Police Force, Director of the Warren Administrative Bureau, and the commanding officer of the Warren Enforcer Corps, a subdivision of the WPF."

Oooh impressive...

"I wasn't too familiar with your mother personally but for what its worth, I'm sorry for your loss."

Johnny nodded, he didn't feel as though verbal input was needed, nor did he particularly want it at that time. As it were, trying to subside his grief was hard enough without it being reopened with every recurring thought. He walked over to his desk and filled up a cup of tea from a teapot among his somewhat cluttered desk. Then he did something unexpected, and poured John a glass and asked for him to take a seat. John's insides temporarily lit up at the delight of the wonderfully warm and tastily irradiated piece of gratitude, and then was immediately brought back down to sadness as he recalled when his mom used to make him tea. His dad used to try, but he never put in enough sugar. He kept his emotions unseen however, as he himself grabbed the sugar spoon a dropped in a couple cubes. But even still, it was the first time in a long time he had been offered something, and he wasn't sure of he liked being called Mr. Collins yet, it reminded him of his father...

"I think I might be able to find a place for you here in our little fortress. Let me tell you what you need to know, our former leader President Jessop was killed under mysterious circumstances and now the Warren has been taken over by a military dictator, Ellis."

John had a slight idea of who Mr. Jessop was, he never met him, but his dad did. As far as Ellis, he was actually surprised to hear his name again. From what Johnny knew of him Ellis was a respectable man, but then again the wastes do change people, more often than not for the worse. William pulled out a rugged map of the Warren and began pointing, John looked closer, sipping his tea. He pointed out the location of the Theater and the Administrative building, which John already knew, but he still took the time to memorize the map's details for photo-anolysis and extrapolation via memory. If he was to work with Mr. Penn, he wanted to be on his P's and Q's. He waved his hand over the rest of the Warren.

"Everything beyond a block away is under the full control of Ellis and Stane. If we are to prevail over such a powerful foe we will need to use every means possible to achieve victory. This will not be as simple as taking a gun and pointing it at Ellis and Stane."

Johnny shouldn't have said that in the first place, he needed to work on his pitching. William, who seemed to be getting intimate with his ramble, slowed himself down, and brought it all home.

"As of two hours ago, I have initiated the first strike at Ellis. I wrote a letter and distributed it around the Warren, its asking him to open up to a public election and gives him no choice but to let the people decide who the leaders should be. To win this fight we're going to go at him from every angle possible, this first strike has a pretty big chance of backfiring on us. Either we win the hearts and mind of the people or Ellis gains legitimacy. He'll no doubt try to win through illegal methods so we'll have to be ten times smarter to win. When you join the WPF, not only do you have to be physically fit, your mind had to be sharp as well. That's what keeps us above the thugs around here, we're not the best fighters or have the most guns, but we have the most dedicated and intelligent people there are. We're taking on a big enemy now, we'll need every officer to be on his best behavior. As a WPF officer you will adhere to and enforce the law to the letter. You must be able to show self control and restraint at all times. We are the glue that keeps the Warren civilized."

Johnny nodded, he couldn't have agreed more. now he was just waiting for William to finish so he could decide what was best for him. He was an engineer at heart, but the current tasks didn't require much of that field. The man then fished from his pocket a new silver WPF badge, engraved with what looked like election orbits floating around a cross-shaped nucleus. It definitely looked official, and Johnny could feel the responsibility that came with it.

"Now, what do you say Mr. Collins? Do you think you have the wits and the skill to join our ranks? I'm in need of a new sidekick anyway. When you join me, you had better leave your vengeance at the door. Our work is more important than any one of us. I'm sure your mother will understand that."

"No doubt Mr. Penn sir. I won't let you down." He offered his hand out for a shake, holding his new badge in the other. As an afterthought he added. "Oh, and I saw a possible under of an innocent civilian today. I'm not sure if he's still in the Warren, but be on the lookout for a man in a fedora toting an AK. Oh, yes, one more thing, where do you want me?"

~Stane: The Warren~

He comes walking at an aggressive pace, stomping really, into the center of The Warren. He looks about as his men stand guard over the town. He looks to the left of the Theatre, what has become his home, in disgust. William, that cowardly little **** had used his position to challenge Ellis' reign.

Still looking at the building his mind departs for a second, running through a happy little scenario.

He walks into the Police Station, an officer shakily tries to stop him, he presses the muzzle of his revolver into the man's face forcing him back. The man staggers back in fear and surprise until he is back up into the wall. He presses the muzzle of the gun hard into the man's temple until the man let's out a small cry of pain. He pulls the trigger.

Snapping back to reality he looks to the very center of town and sees the rotting pus **** that has found it's way into his town.

He pulls his revolver out, letting it rest lazily against his thigh, and battles with his desire to see his fantasy come to life. Albeit it would be a bit messier with this fellow. The ghoul's body scarcely seemed capable of holding itself together.

"Hey you!" He shouts approaching the....thing, "Zombie! Who the hell are you and what the **** are you doing here?"

~Cain Johnson~

"You! Who the hell are you and what are you doing here? Speak up boy."

I looked towards the man with the revolver. I could see his hatred of me in his eyes. He seemed like a man I could very easily hate.

"Me? I'm human, or use to be. But, you see I got sick. And-" I ended it with a great heave pretending to cough in his direction. Just to piss him off.

Stane pulls back a bit, repulsed as this misshapen thing coughs so near to him.

His grip on the revolver tightens as he unconsciously begins to bounce it lightly off his thigh. ****ing zombie freak picked a bad time to show up.

"I don't know who the **** let you in, but we don't want whatever **** you got spreading freak." Stane spits out the last word as a curious crowd begins to gather.

Some look upon Cain with pity, others with revulsion, and others with fear. Some of these townspeople support Stane in his desire to keep such....to keep things such as this ghoul far away from the town. Some of these townspeople have heard stories of the hell that the founders of this town had experienced that first night.

Still, some of them feel pity for the ghoul and are less than comfortable with the man's treatment of this clearly self aware, non-threatening, and handicapped sick man.

Stane is really feeling it now. This ****ing mutie is showing him no respect, Ellis ain't showing him no respect, that **** William is trying to bring his house down...

Come you mutie ****, he thinks to himself, gimme an excuse, any excuse

"Is it infectious zombie? Eh?" He asks looking around at the townspeople, thinking that perhaps he can make a little speech too.

"Maybe we should take you to the hospital zombie boy, see what makes you tick."

~Cain Johnson~

"Zombie? Are we in a fairytale you dumb ass?"

Antagonizing this man was way too easy. A man quick to anger is usual a stupid one and I wanted to see how far I could go and what I could make him, plus, I really hate his guts.

"Maybe we should take you to the hospital zombie boy, see what makes you tick," said Stan trying to make an impressive speech.

"What gave you that idea, the fact that I I'm in a wheelchair? Sure, let's go if your not too much of a [censored]. But since the only fight you can pick is with a cripple, I'm guessing your so much of a coward you jump at your own shadow when your walking down the street,"

Struggling to keep a level head, but failing. I gazed at the crowd gathering around us, realizing a scene was unavoidable. I clutched my rifle for security, he had the advantage of being human after all.

William stood up and smiled at his new recruit. "I think we'll make a great team Mr. Collins, your first task will be to assist in the restoration of the Warren. Until then, all other tasks are secondary to this. I'll make sure to take note of a man in a fedora and AK but our power is quite limited and I'm afraid there isn't much we can really do unless Ellis agrees with it, which he never will."

He began to tell Johnny about the things that they would need to get done during the campaign against Ellis, "First, I need you to help me create a good solid argument against Ellis for the campaign that's coming up. I've got an idea of what to say against him but right now our key to chipping away Ellis' shield of legitimacy is to find evidence that Ellis seized power through murder. If we can build a case for that then no matter what Ellis says we'll have the upper hand on him. Failing that, I hear he's one hell of a speaker and I'm afraid I might not be able to match him."

"The people of the Warren want a strong military leader and Ellis is just that kind of man. We may end up having a hard time trying to convince the people." Suddenly another interruption struck his office. An officer came through the door telling him there was a ghoul who wanted to see him. William was going to dismiss this as a inappropriate joke by the officer but when he heard further news that the ghoul was from Zoey William immediately jumped into action.

He quickly opened his desk and took out an old revolver along with a leather holster and 18 rounds of ammo. He tossed it to Johnny and began walking out to the door, "Alright Mr. Collins you're with me. Officer McKnight here will take us down to the front to see this ghoul. We'll get you some better gear and training later but it looks like its almost time for our first battle with Ellis." On his way out William made sure that he had all of his necessary assets with him.

The group made their way down to the lobby and found a cluster of officers watching the door and looking very anxious. "I wonder whats got these guys all shaken up?" William said as he waved for his escort to go out ahead of him. Officer McKnight jogged ahead of him out in the street and William soon followed. What he found was a very unwelcoming sight.

A hideous ghoul on a wheelchair and Stane, having what was apparently a heated argument. "If it isn't my my second least favorite person in the world, Stane. You know the rules here Stane, this is my turf. If you don't vacate the premises immediately I can very well arrest you for causing a public disturbance."

He shouted back to the station and a reserve team of Warren Enforcers came running out to back him up. William had to admit that it was taking a whole lot of nerve on his part to appear calm and composed. He was very disturbed that Stane would dare show his face even in his territory. While officially Stane could very well go wherever he wanted, everyone knew that Ellis was not welcome here. For Stane to come here meant that he clearly didn't have enough power to keep Ellis' goons away.

William made a quick guess that the ghoul on the wheelchair really was a friend of Zoey and said with a threatening tone, "I'd suggest that you leave my friend here alone, unless you want to deal with these guys." He waved his arm at the Enforcers and also at Johnny. "You don't want to underestimate this little guy here either, when I first found him he had managed to kill seven men with his bare hands."

Inwardly William cringed and hoped that his rather lame threats would get Stane to leave before they had to shoot anybody. This was no doubt a trick by Ellis to get him nervous before the debate.

OOC: Thank's Smiley, I'm sure you and everyone else will come to love and hate my new creation.

IC

Ali & Madeline - Wichita

On a lonely street in Wichita, Ali and Madeline continued down towards their ultimate goal, the Warren. They still had a little ways to go, but as they walked, Madeline couldn’t help but look up in awe at the buildings that they passed. But to Ali, they were scars of an old world, and more recently, a war which he had fought and almost died in. The two were so very different, and the very thought of that made Ali think as he carried the little girl on his shoulders, while in his hands, a large weapon of death was carried; prepared to defend or attack any possible threat to him and Madeline.

“Let’s take a break for a minute, okay Madeline?” Ali suddenly said pointing to a empty building that looked somewhat safe.

“Alright!” The little girl said with a smile and excitement. Ever since their walk from the gas station, Madeline had for some reason gotten excited about their journey to the Warren.

When the two got inside, Ali let the little girl down from his shoulders and led her to an office, sitting her down at the empty desk chair. Again, a little plume of dust rose as she collapsed into the chair.

“Stay in here, I’m leaving the pack here, so keep your eyes on it. Don’t let anyone in except me, okay?” Ali said slipping his rucksack on the opposing chair. Madeline nodded and leaned back in the chair while Ali left, closing the door behind him, to check out what was left of the standing building.

Outside the office, the building was empty and desolate, so much of it had been ransacked and destroyed from the riots and problems that happened before and after the war. On the far wall, the symbol of a raider clan had been slowly cracking away from the chipping wall behind it. Ali remember the symbol, it was from one of the raider clan’s that Mohammed had absorbed before the war, when he had allied himself with the raiders and slavers which inhabited Wichita and the outer parts like locus.

Suddenly, as Ali moved towards the stairs to make sure they were safe, some rustling from the next floor echoed down the stairwell. Ali didn’t know what to make of it, and quietly moved to the side, out of sight of anyone who might come down. And then voices echoed down the stairwell after the sound of what turned out to be their footsteps.

“Ain’t nothin’ here, just a bunch of trash and junk. We ain’t gonna get nothin’ from here, just this bag of food and that’s it.” One of the strangers said rustling a bag.

“Alright then, I guess we can head home, Big Tom will be happy to see us again with his food.” The other said smacking what sounded like a fresh clip into his gun.

“Big Tom? What a joke, he’s nothing compared to those slavers that roam around here. In fact, I bet there’s some of them just waiting to erase Big Tom from the history books.” Another mystery person said, this time with a woman’s voice.

“Don’t let Big Tom hear you say that,” the second person said letting a bit of a laugh out.

“Seriously, don’t. I know you knew to this outfit, but Big Tom doesn’t like it when someone says things like that to him. Just ask his ex-wife!” The first person said as they got closer to the stairwell. They all let out a grunt of understanding before they started down, Ali moving back a bit from the bottom, with his B.A.R drawn and ready to kill the people, no matter if he was out numbered or gunned.

“So how long have you two been with Big Tom?” The mystery woman said as they came down the stairs.

“Oh, just about a couple year,” The first man, dressed in raider clothes said as he and the other two passed Ali and his rifle without even a notice.

“That’s good to-”

“Freeze!” Ali suddenly said interrupting their conversation. They all turned around, the second raider without hesitation, drew his measly pistol; but the sound of Ali’s B.A.R rang out in the room and up the stairwell, and all the way to the office where Madeline was sitting, eating some more jerky. The bullet tore clean through the Raider’s chest, blood spurting from the man’s chest as he fell with a look of pain on his face. The other two just stood there, the first Raider dropping his bag and raising his hands up high with the woman.

“[censored]!” The woman exclaimed, her arms shaking as Ali took a couple steps towards them.

“That bag, you’ve got food in it?” Ali asked in a demanding voice and aiming his rifle at the woman’s head.

“Y-y-yes, food, yes!” She said nodding rapidly.

“Good, toss it over here to my side.”

“You’ll pay for this,” the first Raider said spitting at Ali’s jacket as the woman reached down for the bag of food. And without a second’s hesitation, Ali brought his gun to bare on the man, giving him a quick deathly cold look before pulling the trigger, and blowing the man’s head clean off and into little bits and pieces. The woman let out a deafening scream as the man’s headless body fell limp onto the floor and bits of brain matter and skull fell on her and landed in her curly hair.

“Don’t [censored] with me [censored] or I’ll do you in too, got me?” Ali said angrily.

“Yes, please, don’t kill me. I’m not like them, I’m not like them at all, I’m just an enslaved woman, please, I’m not like them.” She said, pleading with Ali before tossing the bag of food over to him. “I’m a slave, and have been for some time. Please, don’t kill me stranger, please!”

Ali thought for a moment, kneeling down but keeping his rifle trained on the woman as he managed to get the top of the bag open with a quick hand.

“Look’s like you’ve got quite a cache of food, was there anymore?”

“No, that was it, just that, I swear.”

Ali nodded, motioning with the rifle to get moving towards the office where he and Madeline had taken residence for the time. The woman nodded, keeping her hands held up high as Ali got the bag and led her to the office, motioning for her to knock on the door.

“Ali?” Madeline’s voice asked through the door. Her voice was a bit muffled by the fact that she was tearing into a piece of brahmin jerky.

“Yes, it’s me, Madeline open the door, but be careful, I’ve brought a friend. Alright?”

“Okay,” the little girl said coming to the door and opening it.

“In,” Ali said in a masterful voice to the woman. She nodded and moved, Madeline smiling at the woman as she did, but the smile quickly went away as she saw Ali come in behind her with his B.A.R drawn.

“Ali, what are you doing?” Madeline asked a bit scared and curious at the same time.

“Don’t worry Madeline, everything is fine. Take this bag from my hand though, please.”

Madeline did as she was told, taking it and dropping it by Ali’s rucksack. Curiously, she opened it up, excited with the sight of food in it. She smiled at Ali, completely forgetting all about the situation they were in, and the fact that Ali could quickly pull the trigger and cause them all to go deaf for a moment in the small office room.

“What are you going do to with me?” The woman asked turning around to look at Ali. The middle eastern man only looked at her, a cold hard stare piercing through her and striking a bit of fear in the woman.

“Who’s this Big Tom?” Ali asked plainly.

“My boss I guess you could say, but really he’s my master too.” The woman said with a bit of exclamation at the end.

“So you really are a Slave, huh? For how long? Since the Abu Nidal or later?”

The woman went silent, looking down at the floor while Madeline, in such a child like manner, sat looking at her while eating a box of what looked to be cereal. It was like a show to her, but one that was real life, and wouldn’t end happily most likely.

“I became a slave during the Abu Nidal-Warren War. Just a year in and already a pre-war secretary found herself scraping by to live. When slaver’s picked me up in the center of town, I thought I was done for. I thought I was dead, but it turns out they had other uses for me. I was worth more to them alive, than dead.”

Ali nodded and let the woman drop her hands, being kind enough to even let her take a seat at the desk.

“How did you survive through all that? I thought the Slaver’s that didn’t get killed under Mohammed’s orders all regrouped and killed their old merchandize?”

“Merchandize!” The woman exclaimed, getting up but was quickly put back in her place at the sight of Ali’s gun. “Call me what you want, but I’m not ‘merchandize’ pal, I’m a human being, I’m better than that you know. Anyway, I don’t know how I survived, that time’s just a blur to me now.”

“How’d you get mixed up with this ‘Big Tom’ then?”

“Sold, simple as that. One of the slave masters sold me to the fat slob, and I’ve been on his food scavenging crew ever since. And it hasn’t been that long.”

Ali nodded, resting his B.A.R down beside his own chair before taking a seat. The woman took a sigh of relief before realizing his Hi-Power strapped to his thigh.

“Are you always this well armed?” The woman asked a bit more relaxed.

Ali didn’t look at her for the answer, he only motioned to Madeline to bring him his rucksack. The little girl did, dropping the box of cereal beside her and handing him the bag. Quick enough, Ali revealed a couple of grenades, answering the woman’s question.

“So what are you going to do with me?” She asked as Ali handed Madeline the rucksack and the little girl took her seat.

“Do you want to come with us!” Madeline said out of line, as if she was friendly to anyone who came into her life.

“Madeline!” Ali snapped, giving the girl an angry look. “Don’t talk to her Madeline, she’s a bad person. Here have some more water, it’ll be easy to eat that food.”

Madeline nodded, looking at Ali like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs.

“I’m sorry, Ali,” she said in a sweet little voice that was so innocent, Ali just smiled.

“It’s alright Madeline, you don’t have to be sorry.”

And like that, Madeline smiled and took the canteen of water, downing some more of it as she worked on the box of cereal again.

“She your daughter or something?” The woman asked looking at Madeline and Ali.

“No, but for now she’s under my protection. You don’t talk to her, understand?” The woman nodded at Ali’s words, as Ali motioned to Madeline to hand her something to eat.

“Thank you,” the woman said to Madeline as she took a small can of an unknown food.

“What’s your name?” Ali asked plainly.

“Lara, Lara Mitchell. Yours?”

“Ali, and this is Madeline.” Lara nodded, having already caught her name a couple times. “We’re moving out now, you can come with us if you want, but you can’t come with us for the whole way.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll ask the questions, you just answer them. All you need to know is that you can’t go where we’re going. Where we’re going, you’ll have to go yourself. Okay?”

Lara nodded, looking down at her unlabeled can and realizing she had nothing to open it with. Ali generously opened it for her, pulling out an old can opener from his rucksack and handed it back to her.

“Ready to go, Madeline?” Ali asked getting up and grabbing his rifle.

“Yeah, let’s go!” She said excitedly, happy to be continuing their journey. Lara got up as well, bringing her can of food as Madeline got back on Ali’s shoulders and carried the box of cereal in her hands, eating along the way.

“You can carry the food, don’t run or I’ll shoot you dead, alright?” Ali warned, handing Lara the bag. She only nodded, taking it and slinging it over one shoulder. The trio started back out, leaving the two wasted bodies to rot and be eaten by whatever or whoever came along to find them.

"**** you William, you can't ****ing touch me." Stane moves toward William for a moment as the Warren Enforcers bristle in response.

Frustrated he turns back to Cain.

"This piece of **** is infectious for all we know, ****ing look at him," with this Stane gestures with his gun, effectively aiming it at the ghoul.

The crowd gasps in response and as Stane reacts to these startled sounds Cain takes the opportunity to pull his own weapon out.

Stane turns back to the ghoul to find himself facing the killing side of a rifle.

In precisely this moment Ellis comes walking out of the Warren Theatre.

"What the ****." He says simply.

He looks angrily about the scene. A ghoul in a ****ing wheelchair is in a mexican standoff with Stane, they are surrounded by the citizens of The Warren and, no surprise, armed members of the Warren Police Force.

"Stane," he yells "What in the name of **** are you doing?"

"I was just..."

"What the **** were you just?"

"I was....," he struggles for words, "I was interrogating this ghoul, when William and his ***** boy scouts came out and started threatening me. Telling me to get off their turf."

"Really?" Ellis asks, turning to the crowd whose expressions clearly convey that there is more to this situation than that.

"Then, why the **** pray tell, are you pointing guns at each other?"

Stane searches for a response but finds none, none besides the response he cannot give, that this mutie and that ***** William pushed his buttons. Instead he just maintains his silence.





Ellis turns to the crowd and begins.