The tall black man with curly hair folded his long legs into a kneeling position. "It looks like we're in a bit of a pickle," he said, almost indifferently, as he stuck his finger in a pool of blood by his knees. His eye looked to the left, then the same eye looked to the right. The words "My name is Oliver," slowly came out of his mouth.
"Okay then, anyone want to search the house with me? At the very least there should be some kitchen knives around. If we have any luck then we will find food." Orion stands and stretches, "You can come with me if you want." He takes his machete out of its sheath and ventures down the left hand hallway.
Oliver hesitated before getting up. "You guys aren't the folks who eat other people in bad situations, are you?" he questioned. Not that he was nervous, he was just curious. He followed Orion, stumbling a little. He looked at Duce with a bit of a troubled expression. "You think I'm one of /them/ don't you?"
Orion's voice calls back, "If we can save accusations until after the house is clear, that would be great." He goes onward, finding what used to be a girls room, walls decrepit and molding. Opening the closet, he jumps backwards when a small cat leaps out of it and darts into the hallway. Tucking a set of clothes into his bag he presses onward. With the house eventually cleared he find his way back into the main room.
Oliver turned up his nose. "I have every right to be suspicious. Who knows?" He absentmindedly scratched at his stitches. "Maybe you could be some sort of freak." Oliver gestured at his body. "I could be one of those, too, for all you k–KITTY!" Oliver jumped after the kitty and clumsily chased after it. "Come here!"
(i gotta go in a little bit, it's almost 9 and i swear my medications are like sedatives)
Duce was starting to ease into this, that guy wasn't infected obviously, if anything he was probably immune. He drew his machete fluidly, and holding it solidly, went into the bathroom, and gathered rolls of toilet paper, and hygienics supplies., not as much as he was expecting, he moved on warily, and found an empty room. He looked around.
Orion sits heavily on the ground, and the cat sits a few feet away from him, purring at Oliver. "Truce? I found enough cans of food that we can all eat, I just don't want to be stabbed in the back when I go to sleep. Capisce? I have no intention of eating anybody, from what I have heard people don't taste very good." He cautiously rolls a few cans of food over to the other people, with the cat chasing after them. Along with the food he tosses a kitchen knife to each of them, before tucking into his own cold soup.
"Duce! Food in here!" Orion calls, voice carrying to the man.
"S'fine." Duce said, pulling out a pack of trail mix, a few slim-jims, and a water bottle. "I'm good! I did my own searching, y'know."
He watched as clusters of them gathered outside, oblivious to their presence for now. "I'll take first watch." Blankly.
"Alright, whatever you say." Orion collects the cans meant for Duce, but offers the knife to him handle first.
He takes the knife, and sheaths his machete.
(continue tomorrow?)
Hai, Cari-sama.
(???????? I dont understand)
(Yessir)
(Ah, ok)
The ragtag group sits and eats, along with the cat who has curled itself on top of Oliver's lap.
Oliver strokes the cat, allowing himself to relax as the poor thing rested on his lap. He didn't seem too interested in the conversation, taking in small spoonfuls at a time. After a few moments of silence, he looks up, his hand not leaving the kitten's back. "I don't suppose anyone here has an explanation for… all this, am I right?"