Array 148 // Video
Dammit. Dammit, dammit.
[Clank, and Al drops the PCD on the kitchen table. He's covered in dirt and mud, braid sticking to the side of his face, and his teeth are gritted. He's holding his right shoulder.]
Hey-
[It's a little breathless. He tries to move his right arm and there's a painful-sounding, grinding creak. Metallic. He chokes off a noise of pain, going utterly silent, holding his breath and gritting his teeth, shaking. Finally, the pain seems to pass. When he does speak, it's utterly calm, just a whisper. He's still hurting, but not letting it come through in his voice.]
Will someone get me the bag in the garage, please?
[Clank, and Al drops the PCD on the kitchen table. He's covered in dirt and mud, braid sticking to the side of his face, and his teeth are gritted. He's holding his right shoulder.]
Hey-
[It's a little breathless. He tries to move his right arm and there's a painful-sounding, grinding creak. Metallic. He chokes off a noise of pain, going utterly silent, holding his breath and gritting his teeth, shaking. Finally, the pain seems to pass. When he does speak, it's utterly calm, just a whisper. He's still hurting, but not letting it come through in his voice.]
Will someone get me the bag in the garage, please?