[Though it might not be for the same reasons--Coil doesn't care so much if he alarms other people--he is nearly as self-conscious about the wreckage of one half of his face as Carl is. He makes a good effort at appearing nonchalant about removing the wrap, but he's not making eye-contact and he keeps forgetting to breathe.
The old wound were Coil's eye used to be is an entirely different story compared to Carl's. All peripheral structures that would have normally been around an eye--lashes, tear ducts, all of it--had been surgically removed, leaving only a tangle of scars sunken into the hollow of his eye socket. There are no burns or noticeable loss of underlying bone, only the clear lines where whatever skin hadn't been shredded had been stitched together to close the gap.
Compulsively, Coil rubs a few fingers over where the line of scars cross over his cheekbone, before fidgeting still again. Thinking about it is only making it itch more.
"Inside," he signs again, pointing at the scars. "Can't get to it." Whenever something irritates the closed-up socket, Coil can't do anything about it.]
no subject
The old wound were Coil's eye used to be is an entirely different story compared to Carl's. All peripheral structures that would have normally been around an eye--lashes, tear ducts, all of it--had been surgically removed, leaving only a tangle of scars sunken into the hollow of his eye socket. There are no burns or noticeable loss of underlying bone, only the clear lines where whatever skin hadn't been shredded had been stitched together to close the gap.
Compulsively, Coil rubs a few fingers over where the line of scars cross over his cheekbone, before fidgeting still again. Thinking about it is only making it itch more.
"Inside," he signs again, pointing at the scars. "Can't get to it." Whenever something irritates the closed-up socket, Coil can't do anything about it.]