nobody knows his real name

[ 🌈]

       What’s visible of Dan’s face twists uncomfortably into a grimace as Schism hollers at him. He doesn’t like that, not one bit. He vaguely motions to his haphazardly made shelter. It seems to be a sleeping bag with a bunch of blankets stuff inside of it. And underneath that seems to be a few cardboard boxes torn up and laid down underneath him. 

      “You don’t look fine,” he counters,” Look, hold on–.”

      He maneuvers and shoves all of his blankets into his sleeping bag and rolls it up, quickly bagging it. He sets it next to his guitar case and then walks over to Schism,”Do you have a phone? You very obviously need a hospital- that’s blood, isn’t it?”

  Schism doesn’t seem to notice that his voice bothers Dan. He eyes the makeshift shelter, as if it were secretly a weapon to hurt him. He continues watching as Dan packs up his things.

  The television seems uneasy– he’s watching Dan’s face, as though looking for something he can’t find, and is too afraid to ask about it. His searching is interrupted by harsh coughing, and more black fluid drips from his mouth. Looks like blood– smells like blood. It’s probably blood.

  He isn’t sure, exactly, what Dan said, but he knows [or… he thinks–] that Dan wants him to go to a hospital. He shakes his head.

Oh. It clicks. The object head must be hard of hearing. Hesitantly, Dan takes the surgical mask and pulls it all the way down to reveal the mangled mess that’s his face. He kneels down and looks at the object head worriedly. “You sure you don’t need a hospital with all this blood?” He grimaces more, his entire face now shifting. 

The old powerplant? “I- I guess? I know of it. Probably not the best answer, but I know of it , and mostly where it is. I think it’s a block from here?”