Pandemic Roleplay

Moby let out a long sigh. Of course it was a joke. But he'd always been bad with jokes. He waved a hand as he gathered pine branches to put over the limbs. "Sorry. Just come help me, please."

"Viola, can you grab some branches with pine needles on them? We need to hurry up and finish this before the sun sets completely." When his request was met with silence, he sighed, turning to ask her again before seeing her standing there. Moby wasn't quite sure what to do or say in this situation. In fact, he wasn't quite sure what was going on with her or what she was doing. He twisted a small twig between his forefinger and thumb as he watched her, feeling even more sap seep out onto his already-sticky hands. Hesitant, Moby took a step or two in Viola's direction. "Hey," he said, "Are you... Um, are you okay?"

Moby gave her a disbelieving look. "You don't exactly look 'fine', but...okay." As he was laying the branches he had over the larger limbs, it occurred to him that he should probably ask Viola what was bothering her. His work slowed and he eventually sat down on the forest floor, watching her gather the pine.

He stared, almost mesmerized by her. Eventually, he caught himself, clearing his throat awkwardly and standing. Moby walked over to her, briefly putting a hand on her arm to let her know he was there. "I think that's enough for now," he told her, picking up a couple more branches just for good measure.

Moby led her back to the lean-to he'd been making, which was almost complete. He motioned for her to sit down underneath it and took the branches from her, laying them on top of the rest. Once he was finished, he joined her under the shelter. Glancing over at her occasionally, he sat there fidgeting, unsure of whether or not he should say something.

Hesitantly, Moby put an arm around her shoulders. He tried to make the gesture comforting, or, at least as comforting as he could make it. He'd never really been good in these types of situations. "Are... Are you okay, Viola? Are you sure you're okay? Because..."

Moby put his other arm around her, pulling her into a hug. "I know... I understand." He held her as if she was small and fragile, despite the fact that she was taller and probably stronger than he was. "But... You're alive. And I'm alive too. We've made it through all these years. We've survived. That's got to count for something."

"I know," Moby said again, softly. "I know." He let silence wash over the two of them, and for a while, he just sat there and listened to Viola trying to keep herself from crying. The sun soon dipped below the horizon like a drop of water melting into the sea and Moby sighed quietly. "Viola, let me tell you a story."

Moby shifted slightly before starting. "When I was pretty young, there was this one stray dog that used fo follow me around everywhere. She would lead me places too. Show me the best dumpsters to scavenge food from, the best hiding places, and which parts of the city to stay away from. That stray was probably the closest thing I had to a mother, now that I think about it. Well, one day, I woke up and she wasn't with me. At the time, I'd figured she'd nust gone out to get some food, but I as I went looking for her, I saw she'd been run over. I was devastated. I must've lost at least five or six pounds from being in mourning and not eating." Moby paused here to reach up and rub his eye with a fist. "It took a while, but I eventually came to terms with what happened. What I had to focus on was surviving. And I wouldn't have been able to do that if it weren't for her. She taught me a lot of what I know and she gave me so many good memories to hold onto. Just because she was gone, that didn't mean I was gonna forget her." He hugged her a bit tighter then. "It's the same wih your family. You've gotta hold onto the memories and the things they taught you. They're never really gone if you remember them. And... I know this is probably really cliché, but... Your family will always be with you in your heart. I—um... That was really cheesy, I'm sorry."