Dustin's thoughts are slow to catch up to the situation, which is, itself, rather concerning. He's aware of the acrid smell of ozone mixed with something burnt - singed hair? His whole body aches, like he's pulled every muscle at the same time. There's a particularly bad pain in his neck. Dustin unconsciously reaches up the hand not rictus-gripped on the multimeter to rub at the underside of his jaw, and finds a set of conspicuously swollen, irritated knots on either side.
ASIS chips are damaged, he realizes with a wince. They should self-repair, but it's still pretty alarming that Pikachu can carry enough of a jolt to harm them; it's not like this is the first time Dustin's ever been electrocuted, after all, so he's aware of the risks and consequences, except he's always been cautious enough to avoid something quite this severe. The fact that he acted carelessly this time is a rough blow to his pride, almost as bad as the shock itself.
Naturally, he directs all of that anger at himself outward. "Does it fucking look like it?" Dustin snaps. Annoyance sharpens his thoughts and drives him to action, shuddering as he lifts himself onto his elbows. "Why the fuck would you--"
His teeth click together into a grimace to cut himself off. Not their fault. Dustin takes a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and suck in a breath, in an attempt to calm his nerves. It sort of works.
"...Is there no way to moderate your output?" he asks after a moment, voice quiet but noticeably tense. "Or is it always...that."
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Date: 2023-04-20 03:23 pm (UTC)ASIS chips are damaged, he realizes with a wince. They should self-repair, but it's still pretty alarming that Pikachu can carry enough of a jolt to harm them; it's not like this is the first time Dustin's ever been electrocuted, after all, so he's aware of the risks and consequences, except he's always been cautious enough to avoid something quite this severe. The fact that he acted carelessly this time is a rough blow to his pride, almost as bad as the shock itself.
Naturally, he directs all of that anger at himself outward. "Does it fucking look like it?" Dustin snaps. Annoyance sharpens his thoughts and drives him to action, shuddering as he lifts himself onto his elbows. "Why the fuck would you--"
His teeth click together into a grimace to cut himself off. Not their fault. Dustin takes a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and suck in a breath, in an attempt to calm his nerves. It sort of works.
"...Is there no way to moderate your output?" he asks after a moment, voice quiet but noticeably tense. "Or is it always...that."