Who:Sparrow Peterson and The Ghouls (they'll be here all apocalypse, folks) Where: The Meeting Room of the Ghouls What: The Ghouls finally have a reason to come out to play. When: Backdated to a bit after these are posted, and slightly after this
Step One: Learn the layout of the land. Check. Step Two: Get the schedule of all the things he could possibly target. Find out what happens when, identify what's worth the effort. Check. Step Three: Pick the target. Check. Step Four: Draft support. Easy enough.
So he makes his signs and posts them everywhere. Makes sure everyone in the subways will see them, at eye level and above freshly-dead junkies (and what remains of their Wash, before the rest pick them clean). He doesn't bother with any special decoration of the meeting room, no scavenged signs to draw the eye. His words should be enough.
Sparrow waits, watches them trickle in. He keeps his eyes on the singles as well as the groups, picks out the ones he thinks will be right for his little job. When they're all assembled, he brings out his bow and moves to the middle of the room. He sticks his thumb and index finger in his mouth and whistles. It's high and shrill and it pierces through the room. Undead junkie eyes turn to look at him and he stands as straight as he can.
"Aren't you tired of being forgotten?" he says. He makes it just loud enough that it catches and carries through the room. That's the one thing the cartel taught him: presentation. "Don't you think Sister Slaughter would be furious to see you languishing here?"
He lifts his bow, knowing it gives him a higher visual point for the Ghouls in the back. "I'm tired of being ignored. The government gets supply trucks, full of food to keep them fat. No one else gets to see that food. I think it's time we changed that."
A ripple of whispered voices starts up. Yes. "I want you to stand with me. We're going to take their truck and leave them bodies. We'll take their food and put it to good use where it belongs: under the streets."
He lifts his bow a little higher. "We are the GHOULS! They should fear us, not tolerate us living in the tunnels like rats! Stand with me!"
This time, the response is a rumble. Yes. Sparrow can work with that.
Those interested in fighting will stay in the room to hear his plan. Once everyone has a job and knows what they'll be doing, the group will disperse, to regather a few hours before the truck rolls through.