Just some bruising, I think. Fucker really threw me hard back there.
[Blotches of blue and purple bloom across his back and an arm. Nothing he can't handle, though. It's why the leather and denim, of course - as far as clothes go, they do a good job being armor, and he gets in his fair share of scrapes where it's needed.
He debates with himself before deciding, fine, he'll say more. She's asking. That's different from dumping things on her she doesn't want. It's still hard to talk about, though. Hard to know what to say and how to say it when there's just so much. The jumble it was in before has sorted itself into something more orderly, though - not fully coherent, certainly not fully chronological, but the memories are sharper.]
Sorry I got kinda short with you while we were in there. On the way in was the worst, but the whole time it wouldn't leave me all the way alone. Kept makin' me remember the shit I saw when I got black-brained.
[It is crystal clear to him now why the right side of his face is all ripped up, and it wasn't just the vide noir trying to bust out through his skin. No, he really must've let loose trying to tear his own skin off out there in the desert before his body went still.]
Just hard to be there an' see straight, that's all. Mighta almost drowned on the way back out, too, come to think of it. I lost track of where I was an' how long I'd been there. But - you know. Don't worry about it.
[He feels compelled to add that at the end. He's not looking for pity or sympathy or anything like it, but she asked.]
no subject
[Blotches of blue and purple bloom across his back and an arm. Nothing he can't handle, though. It's why the leather and denim, of course - as far as clothes go, they do a good job being armor, and he gets in his fair share of scrapes where it's needed.
He debates with himself before deciding, fine, he'll say more. She's asking. That's different from dumping things on her she doesn't want. It's still hard to talk about, though. Hard to know what to say and how to say it when there's just so much. The jumble it was in before has sorted itself into something more orderly, though - not fully coherent, certainly not fully chronological, but the memories are sharper.]
Sorry I got kinda short with you while we were in there. On the way in was the worst, but the whole time it wouldn't leave me all the way alone. Kept makin' me remember the shit I saw when I got black-brained.
[It is crystal clear to him now why the right side of his face is all ripped up, and it wasn't just the vide noir trying to bust out through his skin. No, he really must've let loose trying to tear his own skin off out there in the desert before his body went still.]
Just hard to be there an' see straight, that's all. Mighta almost drowned on the way back out, too, come to think of it. I lost track of where I was an' how long I'd been there. But - you know. Don't worry about it.
[He feels compelled to add that at the end. He's not looking for pity or sympathy or anything like it, but she asked.]