Pandemic Roleplay

"Oh... Well, thank you. Kindness is hard to come by these days." He glanced down at the ground, fiddling with the straps of his pack. It was so strange. This girl he'd knocked over because he was careless helped him. She helped him without even knowing who he was. The gesture almost shocked him.

He hesitated, debating whether or not it would be safe to tell her his name. He pushed his thick-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose and regarded her with caution once more. "Moby," he said after a bit. "Herman Brooks. But people used to call me Moby."

He shook her hand after a moment. "Nice to meet you too, Viola. Can I ask what you're doing out here anyway?" Moby had met robbers and hermits in the woods before, but they'd all been crazy. Since the pandemic, wild animals had thrived. Dangerous ones. Any sane person would know better than to stray into their territory.

"I guess not..." he agreed. He began to wonder what this girl's story was. It was like that with every person he saw. Granted, he never talked to any of them to find out. Until now, that is. If he were honest with himself, Moby couldn't remember the last time he'd talked to another human. "How long have you been living here?"

Moby nodded understandingly. "I've been here a couple years." He paused, then added, "I think." When there were no calenders or newspapers or media at all, it was hard to keep track of what day it was. Maybe someone out there knew the date, but Moby had never found them. "I think my parents... I think they were some of the very first victims."

Moby flinched at her hand, taking a small step back. It had been even longer since another human had touched him with any sort of friendliness. "Don't be. I don't miss them. I never knew them," he explained with a shrug, pushing up his glasses again. "I guess they died not too long after I was born."

"For as long as I can remember," he replied simply. "I've been on the streets for my whole life, probably. I found ways to survive..." He trailed off. He was telling practically everything to her. It was possible she could use it against him in some way... Moby had to remind himself that if Viola had wanted to hurt him or rob him, she would've done it by now. But still, that lingering feeling remained at the back of his mind like a cat observing its prey.

"...Yes," he replied, nervousness edging his tone. "I usually stick to the outskirts since most of the other buildings in the main city have been taken." After a pause, he added, "I haven't been here for too long, though. I um, I used to live in another city. South of here."

He gave her a confused look. She really must be all new to this. "Other refugees, of course. Every large town or city is full of them," Moby answered. "It's hard to scrape by, but everyone seems to manage. Some better than others."