Ashly Myers's Story

After most of the keys had been handed out, Seb scanned the lobby for any other people that he had missed before he shrugged and began his walk towards the stairs. Various orders had already been given so his mind had finally given him a moment of silence; however, he understood the underlying problems that his pack had.

“Food, water, the necessities, given enough time we can secure these, but I’m not sure how we’ll handle the winter.”

Once Seb arrived in front of his room, he looked around once more before unlocking the door and hurrying inside. Though the room came standard with the standard amenities, it reminded Seb of his families small one-room apartment back in the North. With a deep sigh, Seb sat down his backpack and rummaged through it before pulling out an old book and flipping through it.

“Stupid fucking shit biscuit bastard son of a bitch goat fucking…” the cursing when on consistently unbroken flowing between Italian and English as he was attempting to pry the door open. Because of the cursing he hardly noticed the quiet voice behind him. “Huh…wha… oh, not really. Just stand back a bit. Once this door pops it may send something flying.”

With a few more heaves, and much more cursing, he wrenched the door open sending part of the sill flying past his head. Although he almost didn’t notice because it went past the left side of his face. “Santo inferno, really wish the last person hadn’t broken the cazzo key in the lock.” Sliding his picks easily back into their holsters he made careful note of her choice of weapons. A rusted cleaver, as he didn’t know anything at all about her other than she seemed quiet, he didn’t know what that said about her. What he did know however was that with her, as with everyone, he was going to keep his eyes… eye… on her.

“Come on then, an extra set of hands to carry shit won’t go amiss,” he said as he entered the kitchen. The kitchen itself was fairly standard as far as hotel kitchens went. There was a row of cabinets set under a faux marble countertop with another row above those. A few hung open, their only contents a few listless cobwebs and their well-fed residents. There was a single stove across the room from the counters, next to that was a large fridge. There was little hope of anything being in the fridge but it wouldn’t hurt to check.

“Alright kid… Ash was it?” He made it a point of listening as to be able to know as much as possible without giving away too much. He was pretty sure he’d heard either her say her name was Ash, or someone else had. “Either way, you go ahead and check the fridge and the stove, see if they stashed anything in either of them. When checking the stove, lift up on the grill parts of it so the underside of it is exposed. Theres usually a good three inches of free space where anything of value or use could be stashed. I’ll start working on these cabinets.”

Again with the talkative nature, what the fuck was wrong with him.

He rolled his shoulders and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he contemplated the cabinets. They were simple enough but the locks were a combination of inset locks on the actual cabinet, with an outside lock latched around the handles, closing them off from prying hands. Cracking his knuckles he took out one of his picks, intending to simply hammer them off. Then the thought struck him that they might be able to use these again to secure the Super 8, of course no one had keys, but he could probably teach a few of the more apt to pick. And of course they could just be left be. Sliding the pick back home with a heavy sigh and a breathed curse he fished the paperclip and jackknife out of his pockets again and set to work.

Nodding, Ash immediately made her way to the fridge. There was a lock binding to the said fridge, unsheathing her cleaver, she glanced at it. All Ash could do was hope that it was strong enough. The lock was intertwined with chain, rust decorating it thoroughly. She struck the rustiest section of the chain. It didn't break, but there was a large cut in it now. It was deep, almost halfway through it. This was when Ash realised her cleaver was stuck. It had happened many a time befoe. Pulling out the cleaver with effort, she brought it down again, actually breaking the chain. The rust on the chain probably helped. Ash pulled open the fridge. What was in it was...disappointing. It wasn't empty, just very very sparsely supplied. There was a package of crackers, sealed, and a rotten apple, "That's..nasty." She mumbled to herself, before taking the crackers, leaving the unwanted apple left behind.

Glancing at Devon, the only thought that came to mind was, 'He swears a lot.'.

Next was the stove, she opened it, only to see cobwebs draping from the sides and ceiling of it. Ash remembered what Devon had said, so she pulled the grill parts up, revealling ammunition. Of course, it wasn't much ammunition, and there wasn't a gun, but it was certainly useful. Making her way over to Devon again, "Not much, a box of crackers and some ammo...I'm not sure what kind of ammo, though." Ash informed, glancing at the lock, that one looked industrial, there was no way Ash's cleaver was going to get through that without having to hit it an insane amount.

Survival in the Grove was never something that left one untouched. If it wasn't the severe hunger or thirst constantly gnawing at ones thoughts, it was the other residents of the Grove that would rob what little food and water one would have while beating them. To put it simply life was unfair, it was a fact Izzy had long learned to accept. However no matter how dark things got there was always a tiny speck of light if one knew where to look. Izzy found that very same light in Seb, the man who had stayed by his side longer than he could ever remember. So when Seb decided to leave to learn more about the other gangs outside of the Fists, it was only obvious that Izzy would follow suite.

Staring at Seb, Izzy noted that Seb wore the mantle of leadership quite well. It had only been a few days since the small ragtag group had been formed, however Seb had yet to truly hesitate in his role as leader. It was truly commendable. Tearing himself free from his thoughts, Izzy focused on the words of Seb as he took lead over the others. “We’ve been travelling for about a three days now, I know provisions are fairly sufficient for the moment, but as for a place to stay, we have finally arrived here. It’s definitely not ideal, but for the ten of us, I believe this will be enough to keep us afloat for quite some time. Dev, do you think you’d be able to pick the lock on the front door?”” Once the speech had ended and Dev had responded to their leader’s orders in kind, Izzy slightly made his way more forward to stand near his dear friend.

"Still can't say I totally agree with this Seb, but I know you are doing what's best." Izzy lightly bit his lip after speaking. Unlike his friend, Izzy had grown to extremely distrust others. While the Grove hadn't been kind to either of them, Izzy's experiences had built up a whole lot of resentment and hate. In the end it was only Seb that was able to keep him from mentally collapsing inward. So once the gang formed, Izzy made sure to take an active role in reminding Seb that always acting in the best interest of the group would one day get him killed. That he owed these people nothing and one day they would betray him. However with tensions high enough over any potential threats residing in the Super 8, Izzy decided to leave things where he had. Seb didn't need to receive another lecture right now. Luckily it didn't take much waiting before Dev had deftly picked the lock, Izzy had to admit he severely disliked being out in the open, too many risks associated with such a large group being spotted. So with a quick nod toward Seb, Izzy followed the group which began to carefully slip into the silent Super 8.

Making his way into the dusty shithole, Izzy’s eye carefully glanced about the interior. Looking for even the tiniest glint of potential danger. However even after a quick glance, the place looked abandoned since the very opening of the Grove. Not only did this mean very little chance of danger but also that meant chances were some supplies probably still remained. All in all, it was a shithole of a home but that was the norm of life in the Grove. "So this will be home huh?" Izzy muttered to himself as he gently scratched under his eyepatch. Turning on his heels towards Seb once he finished barking a few orders, Izzy wordlessly approached and snatched the key of the room he had offered. There had to be no exchange between the two to understand that he had given him the key to the room next to Seb’s own room. Such things were expected between the two of them. Somewhat reluctantly, Izzy left Seb to conduct his work at the reception desk while making his way upstairs to the place that would serve as his new living quarters, room 210. Before he could step into his room however, Izzy felt someone's gaze resting on his back. Turning away from the door, Izzy looked over to see the woman known as Gen gazing at him. Scowling slightly at the sight of her, Izzy watched her roll her eyes and sulk off. He wasn't quite sure what that was all about nor did he want to know. Izzy knew she was trouble and regretted that he surrendered to Seb's decision to let her in. Shaking the event away Izzy silently stepped inside the room, setting his sledgehammer to the side as he began to explore to room for any contents that would prove useful. Through his search he had found two water bottles, a pack of chewing gum, and an odd looking book called a Holy Bible. "A Holy Bib-le? Bibble?" Izzy raised it to the light and stared at it for some time before deciding to set it with the rest of the supplies.

Izzy couldn’t find the concept of reading all that appealing, perhaps it was due to the fact when he tried it took him longer to read a page than to do anything else in his life. He wasn't illiterate as his father did teach him how to read and write somewhat but it did take him sometime to do so since he was not well versed with it. Regardless, if the book could provide them with some fuel to cook or provide warmth in the winter, that's all what really mattered. Once everything was ready to be brought down and added with the rest of the supplies, Izzy reached into his pocket and pulled out his singular deck of playing cards. They were rough looking and quite beat-up however while those were true Izzy had also taken very good care of them. The result was still relatively usable cards, a rarity in the Grove. So quickly hiding it in one of the drawers, Izzy scooped everything up and made his way downstairs.

Once Izzy had added his supplies to the pile, his attention once again shifted onto Seb who once again was attempting to lead the masses. Once he had finished, Izzy began slowly making his way after Seb. They had things to discuss and plans to make, while Izzy was definitely not the best at the two he would at least serve as a wall to bounce ideas off of. "Seb." Izzy called out to his friend once he had closed the distance between the two of them at the reception desk. "Mind if we talk? It's about who gets to do what in the future.” As Izzy spoke to Seb, he didn’t waste time settling in, making room for himself on the wall beside him despite Seb desired to talk or not. “Quite honestly we need to discuss scavenging. Even if we do find enough supplies here to last us a while, these things should be held onto as a last resort. After all there will always be days were scavenging turns up nothing, or worse, we lose a scavenger out there in the streets of the Grove.” After muttering out the sobering points, Izzy lightly scratched at his eyepatch again before letting out a small sigh. “I know you are thinking about putting this burden on yourself like you do with everything but I’ll ask you not to. You’re needed here. As you can see your presence is somewhat calming to the masses. We’ll need that in the future especially when food and water begin to run out.”