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The words were positive as was his voice, but looking up it was the muscles around the eyes that showed something different. Xan looked away again, closing his own backpack and standing up, swinging it over his shoulders. "I do not mind at all sir. Pardon me." he turned and left, scanning quickly for a shovel. No, no, not there, perhaps there, or there. He moved to the right, looking before digging a bit, moving to a new area just to the side and continuing.

It took a few minutes but he pulled one out, walking back to the other at a normal pace before seeing the red, jogging quickly. "Solomon what on earth have you done?! You could get infected!' he declared, looking at the wound but not touching it. "We need to find you shelter right away. There is no time to walk back to the previous shelter that is hours away." He dropped his backpack and began pulling out large sheets of metal, raising them and slamming them in the ground. "I cannot stitch you up in these conditions. Please wait while I try to build a temporary shelter."

Xan kept on building and searching, looking for pieces best used to block out the wind and and sand. This also meant some of the natural radiation in the air would be trapped, but for only a few minutes, he did not mind. As long as Solomon's wound was stitched up he would be safe enough. What little water reserves would be used to rinse out the wound as well because he had gone and shoved his fingers in it. His sandy, bloody fingers, burrowing deep into his shoulder like it was nothing. He was going to kill himself if he continued to be so reckless.

"Sir, I am more than aware of your current blood condition, there is nothing abnormal about it. However I must break down some firewalls before I continue speaking, but what you are saying is incredibly false." Xan lapsed into silence, walking back and looking for more sheet metal, putting out a iece and dragging it back to the construction in progress. "Firewalls down. I have broken one of the original rules your father has given me. Please let me explain so that you may stop playing victim."

"Your father wished you had not been born for an entirely different reason than hating you. You were born with a very bad blood disease, and in the world past, after the bombing, there was little he could do to help you survive. I was sent away because there was a less than fifty percent chance of survival, and he did not want me to interrupt the procedure. Thirdly, your father loved you more than anything, but being that he had to replace your blood with a blood substitute made him feel guilty until his death. So it is not that you are a monster sir, and you are far from being a robot. You are still human, and you should be proud of that fact."

A strong surge of something like poison or radiation was in his gut, programs in his mind going off and warning him about a malicious program. it was something dark and thick, heavy even as he looked at Solomon with a similar look of displeasure. "The shelter is ready. Please get in so that I may stitch you up."

Xanxaru dragged out another piece of sheet metal, pulling it over and quickly tossed it over the top, moving again to gather some things to step on so he could adjust it. The roof had to be covered, and the walls were in place. All he needed was to find some fabric to hang over the doorway. Not as foolproof as metal but it would have to do. It was a temporary shelter not a box.

The sound of a vomiting had the blue eyes snap towards Solomon. White. Something white was coming from his stomach. With a flurry of movements he was beside his human, putting his fingers under the projectile and looking at it, clean hand keeping Sol's bangs from his face. "Why are you vomiting blood, Solomon?" he asked as the male moved. "The sheer amount could be a plethora of things, sir. Bleeding in your upper gastrointestinal tract, ulcers, torn blood vessels. Sol none of this can be cured with some bedrest you need immediate medical attention."

All he heard was the human's panting, stomach no longer giving dry heaves. That was good, the vomiting was done. Hal was already checking for fever, holding Solomon up enough to feel along his abdomen. Nothing felt wrong but ulcers weren't exactly easily seen to begin with. "Solomon!' he yelled as the male fell limp.

His mind ran quickly through the list of available options, however most required professional doctors and sterile environments, and even the ones that didn't would put Solomon too far into risk to even consider them. "If this is your way of throwing a tantrum like when you were a child I do not appreciate it." he muttered, not bothering to question why that phrase came from his program or that he didn't even initiate it, removing the red-eyed boy's shirt and placing and ear to his stomach, shutting down all other intake of sounds.

He turned Sol's head to the side so just in case he vomitted, he wouldn't choke on it. But he had to focus on listening for anything out of the ordinary. He wasn't made for medical research but he could try.

He couldn't hear anything aside from the empty gurgles of his stomach. There had to be something, but in all reality he couldn't hear past the lungs and the heart in his chest. They sounded fine, though, so it had to be back down, however to vomit blood it couldn't be any lower than the small intestine. "You shouldn't think such thoughts, Sol. You are not a waste." With a sigh he worked his way back down, listening for troubles before hearing a rush of something and jolting away, forcing Solomon's head to stay turned as the white bile and blood came up. He rached down, quickly moving the white bangs out of the way so they wouldn't get ruined and held him up a bit, having no resources to wash his hair with.

But the human's red eyes opened again, though the question that came out started him, staring as Sol sat up on his own. "No sir, I am an android. And we're currently in a temporary shelter." But Solomon jumped away from him, the machine leaning forward before seeing the fear on the pale face, sitting back down again.

"No sir, I am not your boyfriend. I am a homemade android. I am your companion. I am here to help you with anything you need along with ensuring your survival. You started vomiting and fell unconscious ten minutes ago." he explained. "I believe what you're suffering from is shock induced memory loss. If you would like to prove this theory I could replay conversations we've had in the past, or I could ask you a series of questions. Also, if you are not feeling well I will have to make a new shelter. Sleeping besides vomit is not healthy and you can get more ill than you already are. Will you cooperate with me, Solomon?"

Xan stayed silent, Solomon babbling away at a rapid pace, trying to make sense of all the information the android had given him. He was truly in shock, Xan would have to start small. Small things, small questions.

"Please take a moment to breathe and listen to me. Please do not speak until I am finished, all right?" He asked softly from his position. "Your name is Solomon Fawkes and you are nineteen years of age." He took a moment, letting that sink in before continuing. "I am your android, I was created by your father for your personal use. That could be anywhere from survival to sitting in one spot and never leaving." Another pause, letting him absorb that as well, "The shock was unintentional on my behalf. All of this was purely accidental. I am not evil, again, this was purely accidental."

Why did things always go bad? He stayed silent for a few moments, shaking his head every time Solomon tried to speak. No speaking, just thinking over the things.

"I have no intentions of molding you because as an android I have no opinions or preferences, meaning that any logical suggestions have no ill-intentions. Lastly, you were not a pain in the a**. It is in your personality to be stubborn, but that is not bad. That is simply who you are." he let that sink in before nodding. "You may speak now."

Xan stayed sitting, looking up at Solomon, watching him process the words Hal had voiced. That was good, his mind was taking it, absorbing it. His head would not explode, it was a headache, that was all. he would survive. "Thank you, Sol."

Wait, Solomon pointed out that he'd said 'sir' earlier. The blue eyes stared, recording the conversation while thinking back quickly.

"No sir, I am an android. No sir, I am not your boyfriend."

His eyes widened. Hal had made sure to specifically include a program that overwrote every 'sir' directed at Solomon to be replaced with 'Sol.' How? how had that slipped past? It couldn't have it was program. Program was concrete. Nothing should have slipped past code. Was there an error in his system? A fallacy with the code? He was running scans, looking at the code, analyzing. What was wrong? What went wrong?

"Sol?' he asked, lifting his head back up. "Oh. Your father named me Hal, since then you have named me Xan. I was created thirty years ago for your personal use. I am a home made model so finding pieces for my internal functions will be very hard indeed." he thought a moment, still running background scans and various other programs, looking for a mistake. "If you have any questions, please feel free to ask."

"Being that your father was a scientist, he was the creator of a lot of androids and many other state of the art inventions." he started, "Being that I am home made, I was created with state of the art technology and some that has not even been sold to the public. Due to those circumstances my body will hold very few replacements."

Xan definitely was an exotic name. "Yes, that is what I thought as well. I have not considered myself to be sneaky, however." At the question of seeing Momo being born in the world he nodded. "You were a healthy newborn. And you were planning on making me your significant other by giving me a central nervous system. That however is up to you. Your memory loss is due to shock, so there is a high chance you'll get them all back."

He stood up finally, wiping the dust from his legs and was going to open the curtain that was the door, but Solomon spoke again, making him look back. "I have no genitalia, sir. However my fingers and mouth are still available if you so wish to use me in such a way. I do suggest allowing to me create a new shelter, for I cannot imagine the smell of your own vomit to be very arousing."

Xan gave an odd choice of letters to use as a yell, completely incomprehensible and no audible syllables, just sort of a jumble of noises from his voice box as he fell, coughing lightly while his internal functions adjusted themselves from shake damage. "Yes, hello Sol." he said after the peck. "Yes you did. You mustn't worry about the pieces. Until you give me the order to stop carrying them they shall remain in my backpack."

He laid there, inner mechanics still not adjusting back to their original position. They couldn't, Solomon was on him. "Yes and if anything goes inside that hole there is a high possibility of messing up my processors. Had that been an option I would have mentioned it. I shall refresh this memory since you lost it, but you shot me with a bullet when you were younger, remember? I had to leave you for a few weeks so i could find your father and have him reconstruct what you had blown out. Luckily for me there was no dangerous damage." he sighed. "Sir I am unaware as to what is attractive about my chassis. It is metal. The only flesh colored and texture on my body is my face and hands." he raised his hands and waved his fingers. "Could you remove yourself from me so I can stand, sir?"