Jan 07, 2011 01:55
[ there's a few long seconds of crackles before he speaks, audibly tired despite having been confined for about five days now. it just felt like a luck worker really had it out for him, the way things went. first, nearly being attacked and running away, then finding this place only to be treated like an infected-- then there was the second attack by the surviors here when he didn't come kindly and finally, waking up in this place (a cell, his mom would be proud) with a busted lip and stubble a few days old. he doesn't sound upset, stressed, even worried.
just tired. ]
I saw them die, you know. All of them-- My family.
[ it's a lie, but they might as well be dead. it's not like he was for lack of anything without them there. his brothers. his mother. his grandfather. there's something unfamiliar in his chest, however, and he wonders if it's longing. maybe he misses him more than he realizes. ]
First it was my mom. She's always been headstrong, you know? Then my brothers, when they saw her go down. They didn't think, they just-- they tried to save her. But once you're bit...
[ he trails off, resigned, a poignant pause he hopes has more weight with others than it does with him. there's the sound of his shoe scraping against the floor as he shifts. ]
If anyone's listening on this thing, can you bring me some water? I'm-- [ hesitation, glancing around, trying to gather his bearings, look for anything identifying. of course, this is pointless, he has no idea where he is or how to describe it ] Somewhere. I'll give you the contents of my pockets but I can't promise you'll like that.
cross marian,
!in person,
[open],
zuko,
cassel sharpe,
michael westen,
!radio