Pandemic Roleplay

After a few more minutes, they reached the entrance to the barn. Slowly, Viola let the door swung open at her touch. The inside was dark, dust stirring at her feet as she walked inside. Bales of dried, ancient hay littered the ground. Vague light filtered in through tiny holes in the roof, exposing tiny particles that floated through the air. Rotten wooden planks hung from the roof precariously, brushing the top of the tall girl's head. She turned to Moby, eyes bright. "Home sweet home."

Viola snorted, sitting down on a smaller pile of bales that she had made before. "It's a roof over my head. Not much more I can really ask for."

"Well..." Her eyes shifted to the side. "I'm not exactly a doctor. I had justg started my training to be a pedriatrician, see."

She sighed, staring at the roof. "I know. Honestly, it's something I think long and hard about every day." Viola took a deep breath. "My privilege and ability to get an education was just a happy accident. My mother would always talk about how there might be someone out there who is better than her--or me-- in medicine. But they don't have the resources to put the talent to practice. I do."

Viola noticed how the dim moonlight clung to his face, shining on the messy and wet smear where the year was. She had a sudden instinct to pay him on he head and tell him it was going to be okay now. Obviously, she wasn't going to act on it. That would just be too embarrassing.

'Think? I know so. And I'd say probably for far longer than that!' He grins, an expression so wide it's a wonder his face doesn't split in two, and he nods sagely, as if his word is fact. 'Hey, if we don't find a safe community, we can make one! That is, start one up with us, and take in anyone else who might need our help. I mean, we have brains and brawn, right? So there have to be other people looking for the same, and with stuff that we won't stop to think about floating about in their heads.' The idea is a little far-fetched, seeing as it'd be hard for two rather young people to form a fully functioning community, but there's always hoping. 'I'd say maybe a week, if we ration it right. We can go out every week before the food runs out, on runs for that kind of thing, so it's not too much of a worry. I have some stuff back at my... Well, I guess you'd call it a place.'

He pauses where he stands to listen to her talk, and when she's done, he nods, turning off down a small path, that leads straight up to the front of a relatively small house. It's not his house, per say, but he's been living in it for a while now, and there's no chance of him giving it up, really. Either way, he considers finding it a massive stroke of luck, seeing as it's been his solace throughout the time he's been without anyone else. But now he has her, or he hopes so at least, so maybe, he won't be so lonely all the time. He shifts positions enough to take a key from his pocket and open the door, before shuffling in and setting boxes on the stairs, that climb upwards just to one side of the entrance hallway. A key might not be necessary now, but it helps a little for protection, and it makes him feel a whole lot safer. 'That sounds like a great plan. Though I think I've been out of here for enough today. You can make yourself at home, if you want, and I'll go put everything away.' The smile he offers is different to his previous grins, a little softer, and far more reassuring.

Well, he did mean she could do pretty much whatever she wanted when he said make yourself at home, so the trap isn't much of a bother to him. Besides, it's helping them, after all! It probably has a vast use, that'll help both of them along perfectly. Though, while she's doing that, he's busy stocking the cupboards and putting everything in the right place. Something of a stickler for order and neatness, it seems, so everything has to be in its proper place, though he seems to enjoy making sure it is, humming as he pulls out various foodstuffs or other items from the boxes they brought and placing them neatly into the right cupboards and drawers. It's a tune he remembers a lot, a lullaby he used to hear all the time. Maybe he'll pass it on. That'd be a nice way to remember the person who gave it to him in the first place.

Viola rolled over, closing her eyes. Now, life wasn't about the long term. It was about surviving to the next day. It was an existence she was unaccustomed to-- it felt alien.