[Squall is taking a break from walking now that he's far enough from ground zero to escape any attention from the EMTs. He's scrapped up from being so close to the blast and there's some blood on the lower left side of his shirt peeking underneath his leather jacket, hiding the the slice of broken wood embedded in him that he's not letting anyone related to the city look at just yet.
He's leaning against a bright neon signboard advertising some elaborately ridiculous sex machine, or it could just be a creepy massage chair. He's not turning to look.]
There was no honeymoon.
[He's eyeing Billy, trying to gauge if he's injured while he tries to appear disinterested.]
aftermath
He's leaning against a bright neon signboard advertising some elaborately ridiculous sex machine, or it could just be a creepy massage chair. He's not turning to look.]
There was no honeymoon.
[He's eyeing Billy, trying to gauge if he's injured while he tries to appear disinterested.]
Can you stand?