PAYABLE TO FINDER, tag: open!

[Charles Lund]

looking for a place where we don't need heaven

oh, once you crawl in you'll never come back again

Determination coursing through his body, Charlie marched up to the front of the old, decrepit Wal-Mart that surprisingly used to be one of Elko’s most popular stores. It was dirty and run down, but believe it or not it was still in business. Albeit, it wasn’t quite the establishment it once was. But for this day and age, it was probably the best thing around. He approached the entrance, nodding nonchalantly to one of the guards that was standing in front of the propped-open sliding doors. The guard in question merely nodded in return, a bored look upon his face as the younger man strode by. (He either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Charlie had his usual Uzi slung carefully over his back, and a pistol strapped securely at his hip.)

Wal-mart had become the trading center of the entire town. And when Charlie entered the familiar store, it was obvious. There were numerous people strewn about the store, located in their own little area depending on what they had to sell. Food products and their merchants were in the grocery section, shirts and pants and coats were in the clothing section, and tents or other outdoor items and small weapons such as knives were located in the ever-important hunting section (guns were reserved for Gun World, naturally). It was a very practical layout.

Unfortunately, Charlie was not looking for any of those things. No, he was on the hunt for cigarettes. He was down to his last one, and swore to himself that he wouldn’t enjoy it until he had secured at least another pack. The problem was, people around here were a little stingy over their possessions, so Charlie had a feeling he would have to pay a pretty penny (or whatever qualified for that these days) in order to get something so basic. But he was willing. And he was sure most people around the town knew that.

As he wandered around toward the back of the store, Charlie’s blue eyes darted around quickly, scanning the numerous setups and makeshift stands to see if anything stood out. There were items here and there that seemed interesting, but nothing that he needed caught his attention. A few people watched him closely, eying the weapon on his back warily. But he paid them little attention.

That is, until he grew frustrated with looking around for something that clearly wasn’t going to be readily available or left out in the open. “Look here, people. Listen up!” he asserted, raising his voice so even people several aisles away would be able to hear. “I’m in need of some cigarettes. A pack, a carton, whatever you got. Anybody got ‘em? Dutch is willing to pay.” As usual he used his nickname, hoping his (imagined?) higher status might garner someone’s attention.

TAG: OPEN. LYRICS: PORTUGAL. THE MAN - GUNS & DOGS. NOTES: none. c: TEMPLATE BY: SPARROW ! @ CAUTION.

[Maik Anders]

warm yourself by the fire, son

Maik enjoyed Camp Elko. There really wasn’t much about it that he enjoyed more than any of the other camps—and in all honesty, he enjoyed all the camps about the same—but the places all blended together in his head and he likely couldn’t differentiate Elko from Tahoe from Vegas. He knew Elko was the smallest—or was that Tahoe?—but it felt relatively cozy to him. As cozy as a place in a zombie-infested world could probably feel.


With his package delivered, he probably should have been on his way to the next camp or at least making rounds about Elko to see if anyone else had something they wanted delivered. He’d actually started to do just that! Truly and honestly! But then he’d been distracted by the Wal-mart. It was big, busy and exciting. Had he been there before? He probably had. It was a gigantic place turned into a marketplace, bustling with people and he liked people. The memory was too fuzzy though—but all the same, he was distracted from his main goal and he was soon getting lost among the stalls and aisles of the store.


There were lots of shiny things. There were lots of gadgets and gizmos and whatsits. He wandered from space to space, browsing and prying. Once people picked up on the fact that he was unlikely to trade for anything and was simply snooping about, they stopped paying him much mind as they turned their attentions to customers with more potential, but that didn’t stop Mikey from excitedly questioning the purpose of one doodad or another or happily wishing a merchant a great day.


He was just in the process of leaning over to study the make and shape of a sharp looking whatchamacallit when a loud voice punched easily through to his attention, prompting him to straighten up and look around for the source of the voice demanding that people listen up. He blinked as he did just that, listened as the guy relayed that he was in need for cigarettes. And Dutch was willing to pay. Who was Dutch? Unfamiliar with the concept of people referring to themselves in the third person, Mikey still responded by turning to the satchel that hung at his side, unlocking and flipping open the flap to dig around inside. He ignored packages that were already due to belong to someone else, sifting through pockets for the trinkets that he collected along the way.


Buttons. A rock. Rubberbands. A bullet or several, a couple marbles, rose petals and the stem that they’d once been attached to. He’d have to clean his bag out sometime. He made a mental note of it. Said note was interrupted with a bright grin as he triumphantly pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The red colouring was dulled and he popped open the lid to count up the intact contents. He didn’t smoke, but lots of people seemed to ask about cigarettes. Closing the lid back up on eight decent cigarettes, he headed on down the aisle to the man that he’d seen yelling, still wearing his proud lopsided grin. ”Thhhh- there’s not… much.” He pushed out as he came to a stop, glancing down to the pack before holding it out eagerly at arm’s length and looking back up to the man.

and the morning will come soon.

[Charles Lund]

looking for a place where we don't need heaven

oh, once you crawl in you'll never come back again

In any other situation, Charlie’s impatience would have been acting up by now. He would have been going around, waving a gun in whoever’s face he thought could help. Asking nicely? Ha! That was for fools. Threatening people was certainly the best way for him to get what he wanted in Elko- everyone knew that the people around town needed to be… persuaded to give up the goods they were usually keeping hidden. Otherwise all the greedy bastards in Wal-Mart (and, well, everywhere else too) would never trade you a damn thing.

But this time around, Charlie was surprisingly keeping his cool. He wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe he was just in a good mood. Or maybe he didn’t have anything else to do later on, so he could take his time. Either way, he didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to rush through this process or push anyone around. Maybe if he kept up the lighthearted attitude, he’d get a good deal for the cigarettes. If he could ever find them. Perhaps he could even get away with trading little to nothing for them! Oh, if only that were probable. Cigarettes were getting more and more difficult to come by recently- he supposed they were a sort of comfort to people these days. And he honestly couldn’t blame anyone, because it rained true for him, that was for sure.

It took several minutes for someone to speak up. Charlie had been walking very slowly up and down the nearly barren aisle he was currently on, just waiting for someone to answer his request. He made one final turn so he could make another round, but saw that a younger man was headed his way, a crooked grin stuck on his face. Charlie raised a brow as he watched the guy approach, and he wondered if this was going to be a waste of his time. The guy (or boy? Honestly he looked like he had reached the awkward in-between stage of gangly kid and adult) appeared as though he had been out and about- it seemed as though he had accumulated more grime than most of the people around Elko. But he couldn’t be sure, so Charlie looked on, waiting.

The kid (Charlie found it easier to call him “kid” rather than “man”) managed to say something, but Charlie had to listen closely to fully understand what had been stammered. There’s not much…? Charlie found himself following the kid’s gaze downward, and he was pleasantly surprised to see a crumpled old pack of cigarettes in his hand. The pack was extended for him to take, and Charlie did just that. He opened the lid just to make sure he wasn’t being swindled, and nodded once when he was satisfied with the amount. Charlie grinned widely, the expression reaching his eyes for once. He flipped the lid closed, looked back to the kid and asked plainly, “Whaddyou want for ‘em?”

Charlie went ahead and shoved the pack of cigarettes into his pants pocket, just for good measure.

TAG: OPEN. LYRICS: PORTUGAL. THE MAN - GUNS & DOGS. NOTES: none. c: TEMPLATE BY: SPARROW ! @ CAUTION.

[Maik Anders]

I’ll tell you stories of a better time

Quite easily, Mikey found himself beaming with pride at the apparent approval that lit the man up when he peeked into the pack. ‘Not much’ seemed to be ‘just enough’ and that made him happy too. Slipping his hands into his pocket, he shrugged his shoulders up with emphasis and let them linger there. “Nnnothin’.” He answered, simple as that, shaking his head. It wasn’t that the concept of trading was beyond his ability to grasp. He understood that it was typical to exchange one thing for another. It was what everybody there at the Wal-Mart was doing, after all! It wasn’t for him though. That feel-good feeling did just well for him.


“I dun’ – I dun’ smoke any-anyways.” He clarified as if that was somehow supposed to explain why he wasn’t asking for anything in return. It made sense in his head. It seemed appropriate for cigarettes to go to someone who could use them, instead of sitting neglected in his satchel bag for however long. And if somebody needed to yell in a store to demand them, then they probably really needed a smoke. That feel-good feeling was filling him right up!

in a place that we once knew.

[Charles Lund]

looking for a place where we don't need heaven

oh, once you crawl in you'll never come back again

Charlie almost felt giddy; the weight in his pocket was instantly reassuring, of course, and he had to refrain from pulling one of the cigarettes out and smoking it right then and there. He knew he had more self-control than that; he could wait just a little longer to let the smoke fill his lungs. Hell, he’d at least wait until he made his way outside. Wal-mart was a nice, comforting environment and all, but it had no air circulation. It was stuffy. Charlie was sure that everyone around would just get annoyed with him for it. Normally he wouldn’t mind how others felt, but when it was the people he was trading with? Well, that was a different story. If he pissed them off, they would just raise the prices the next time he wanted to trade. And he couldn’t have that.

So, he pushed the thought of nicotine out of his mind for now and focused on the kid. At the very least he was interesting to look at- maybe just because Charlie knew he had been places. Then again, maybe it was all the dirt that attracted his attention. Charlie couldn’t imagine being out for days at a time, going that long without a shower. Absently he wondered how the kid did it, why he would even want to in the first place.

The kid’s words interrupted his train of thought, catching him by complete surprise. Nothing? That… didn’t really register correctly in Charlie’s mind. There was no way this guy was just giving away cigarettes. No one was that crazy, were they? Cigarettes could fetch a pretty penny around here- people were willing to pay an arm and a leg just to get a hold of one. Charlie raised a brow once again at the simple response, unsure how to react. He certainly hadn’t been expecting this, so he was at a momentary loss for words. “Are you sure?” he finally piped up, tilting his head ever so slightly as though that would make everything clearer.

It didn’t, but when the other guy mentioned that he didn’t even smoke in the first place… Well, Charlie wasn’t going to push it any further. If he didn’t want anything in return, he didn’t want anything. It was simple as that. And he was smart enough not to argue when a good deal like this arose. So, the only think he could really do now is show his gratitude for the kid’s effort. “Thanks, I guess.” Charlie shrugged, but quickly glanced around the stuffy store a few times as though he was worried someone else might be listening in.

“Look, kid.” Charlie took a step forward and placed a hand on the guy’s shoulder for added effect, as if this would be their little secret. “I owe you one. If there’s ever anything around here that you want, or if someone’s giving you a hard time… You come to me, and I’ll deal with it. Got it?” His hand dropped to his side and slipped into his pocket. Charlie grinned again, nodding once. “Least I can do.”

TAG: OPEN. LYRICS: PORTUGAL. THE MAN - GUNS & DOGS. NOTES: ugh why is mikey so adorable TEMPLATE BY: SPARROW ! @ CAUTION.