mortalcoil | IC INBOX

[There is a visible wince on Coil's face when he gets a better look at all those nasty little details, but it's not the same way most people probably recoil or grimace. This is again the closest Coil gets to something like sympathy, knowing all too well what damage like this is really like. He can't help but seem a little pained himself as he carefully pushes (lightly, in case what remains had healed badly) where Carl is missing bits of bone around the edges of his eye socket.

Whatever he's mulling over in his head, whatever he ultimately thinks about the whole thing, it slowly pushes his expression toward something a little darker. The wince eventually flattens out into a frown, and by the time he sits back into his own space again, his jaw is tight. He's not visibly grossed out, but he doesn't seem exactly happy either.]

[ Carl closes his eye at the press of fingers around his socket, his brow furrowed in worry. The touch remains gentle, though his fingers clench into the fabric of his sleep pants for something else to focus on. It's not painful by any means, though it is sensitive. It's been healed for quite some time, but every once in a while, the phantom pains happen- which Denise had said might happen.

He doesn't know whether he's relieved or anxious that Coil isn't grossed out by it, though the expression he wears resembles something akin to the look his dad occasionally got. Maybe not quite so gutted. His dad always took the loss of his eye as a personal failure which.. Carl doesn't really blame him for. Shit happens, and he survived.

It takes him a moment to compose himself enough to look over at Coil. ]

..Are you okay?

[The time it takes Carl to compose himself gives Coil the moments he needs to sort through his own thoughts. It's not something he's used to feeling--at least outside of a few very specific cases. It takes him a minute to sort through it himself.

He huffs out a tense, irritated-sounding breath at the question, but it's clearly not in annoyance at Carl. He's upset, but it's about something else.

After looking away while he puts his words together, he meets Carl's gaze again to sign with short motions. "I could have made that better." Which doesn't exactly explain what he means, so he belatedly tacks on, "if I had been there."

And maybe that's the thing. If Coil had been there, he could have cleaned up that wound into something that maybe wouldn't be bothering Carl so deeply. Or maybe he could have helped in a way that would have prevented it from happening at all. But instead, they'd gotten separated across time and space, and Carl had gone through something that Coil can picture with too much sympathetic clarity.]

[ He offers a sad smile at the offer that Coil could have made it better. He doesn't doubt it, but they dealt with things as they came.

'No doctors. Lucky I didn't die.' It still doesn't make what happened any better, but if it had been a few centimeters inward, it wouldn't have mattered and he'd have died pretty much instantly. He was unconscious for the better part of two days, so he doesn't know how it all went down. Probably for the best.

Sometimes he wonders what would have happened if things could have been different and his life in the fleet could bleed into his own world. It doesn't do to think about the what if's for something impossible. ]

[He nods in understanding. He'd barely escaped death himself when he'd lost his eye, so he gets it. It sucks, it messes up your life in some ways, but dying is probably worse. So, they should be thankful, right? That's what he's been told, anyway.

Thinking about how the wound still looks so open, he asks, "Does it hurt?"]

[ Carl wobbles his hand back and forth in a 'so-so' kind of hand motion. He takes a moment after to clarify. 'H-e-a-d-a-c-h-e-s sometimes. P-h-a-n-t-o-m pain. Weird.' It goes in the territory of headaches, but it's a different sensation more akin to sinus pressure. ]

It probably looks worse than it is. They used what they had, which wasn't a lot.

[Coil nods and curls his fingers near his own missing eye in sort of a crunching motion. It's probably not the exact same thing as Carl feels, since he's not missing much bone, but he gets weird headachey stuff too.

Oh! And then as something occurs to him, he waves his hand a little even though Carl is already looking at him and he spells out, "I-t-c-h?"]

Ugh, yes.

[ That's the worst part, isn't it? A part of you that doesn't even exist any more itches and you can't do anything to combat it besides try and fake it. Maybe it works better for Coil than it does for him. ]

[In the absence of of a voice to proclaim his annoyance with, Coil slaps his hand down on his knee with a huff. Right??

He points at where his eye used to be and gnarls his fingers again, but much more like frustrated, itching claws than an uncomfortable ache. "Inside," he signs, which is the worst part of the whole thing.]

[ Carl nods. His doesn't itch persistently inside like that, but probably because his socket is all fucked up. The worst part is always being unable to get relief. ]

Yeah. Something that could be solved by blinking really hard or rubbing at it if there were anything there. Just add that shit to the list of 'things that make us suffer for no fucking reason'.

[Coil lifts his hands to sign and explain, but stops before he gets very far. He clearly takes a moment to think something over, debating hard, before ultimately deciding to just go for it.

Showing is easier than telling, and Carl had already been so cooperative, so... Coil reaches up to start untying his eye-wrap.]

[ To say that Carl is surprised by the turn of events is an understatement, and he doesn't take the moment for granted. It shows how much Coil trusts him with this. He waits patiently for his friend to do what he needs to. ]

[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.]

[ It looks better than he thought it might, but still not great. It's understandable that he'd keep it covered much like Carl. The scarring looks neat, almost precise like someone knew what they were doing. He inches forward, looking indecisive.

'Is it okay to touch'? ]

[And now it's Coil's turn to sort of freeze up inside at the prospect of someone possibly touching his face, and he can't help but watch Carl warily for a few seconds before he can answer.

Eventually, with a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach, he gives a tiny nod.]

[ Even if he said no, Carl would get it. Still, he's been given permission, and he shuffles forward a little closer. Reaching with purpose, he gently traces the scarring. It feels different than his own, but obviously it would.

He can't help but trace around his eye, the skin pulled tautly and stitched over the socket. When he pulls away, he offers a reassuring smile.

'You could tell a cool story.' ]

[Even without the ability to blink anymore, there's an automatic twitch like he tries to anyway. It's so difficult not to flinch more than that, unconsciously balling his hands into fists where they rest in his lap.

He doesn't breathe; his brain kind of shuts off with someone this close. He's pretty sure that not even Zhas had touched his scars. Maybe when he'd first been brought into the clan, rough hands inspecting the damage to make sure that the old wound wasn't something they would have to worry about, but nothing more than that.

The sigh of relief is probably audible when Carl sits back again, and he's still half caught-up in the lingering anxiety when he sees him signing.

He's pretty sure he reads most of what Carl says, but he's still confused. He tilts his head to the side in silent question?]

[ He feels bad when he does pull away, hearing that sigh. Coil hadn't wanted to, and he had anyway because Carl had asked.

He repeats the signs, moving his hands a bit slower.

'You could tell a cool story about it. Like a fight with a w-e-r-e-w-o-l-f.' ]

[It hadn't exactly been easy to do, but Coil could have said no, and he's not exactly the type to do things just because someone asks. It'd seemed important somehow, though he wouldn't have been able to explain why.

Either way, he's recovering quickly. He wads the wrap up into one hand, silently committing to leaving it off for a little while. And at Carl's suggestion, he scoffs a breath through his nose.

"Not w-o-l-f--" he signs, not bothering with the whole word, "--but monster. I lost the fight." He doesn't know what's so cool about that.]

[ Oh.. oh. It goes to show he doesn't know much about Coil's world, either. A monster had done that, but.. He's got an argument for that.

'Didn't lose. Still here'. ]

[He hadn't been intending on saying anything about it, but... well, they were sharing about themselves, right? And it's not like Carl is one of those people who needs to be protected from the unpleasant, hard-to-deal-with things in life.

Trying not to give it more weight than it needs, he neatly signs, "sister isn't."

He's pretty sure he doesn't need to elaborate beyond that.]

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