07-04-2018, 12:38 AM
Izuku knew there'd be some kind of drawback once he was finally nearly healed. He wasn't sure what -- he knows he's just paranoid but the feeling is still there. He tries not to pay attention to it too much -- he's wrong, he's wrong, he's wrong. He'll get a break. Just one. He doesn't deserve one but he'll be damned if he doesn't get one. Which is to say, he's definitely damned. Izuku has never had a break in his life.
The incident occurs when he's in the library. Because of course he is. The area he's in has at least been dusted, and Izuku had taken off the bandages all up his right leg for the time being. He doesn't think he should. Wounds needed to be moist to heal properly or whatever but it just -- he's not sure. Well, it was practically dripping everytime he took it off already, and Izuku just didn't like that. So he was having it air out for a little while. Not till it's completely dry, that wasn't ideal, just till it's more comfortable. He doesn't like it, of course -- having his wound out like this is just -- he doesn't like it. It's so gouged and pink and raw and it just scares him. It was gonna scar really badly, Izuku knew that much. He doesn't like it. Doesn't like that he's scarred for life just because of a dumbass mistake -- and that's normally fine. God knows Izuku had enough scars he didn't care about for even dumber reasons. Those were pretty eye-catching, but this would be the very, very first thing people would notice about him. Their first impressions of him would be influenced by it. Hell, even just having it amputated would be less obvious. And -- see, Izuku is basing this on his experiences with his own world. He's not ... sure. How it'll fare in this place. Either way.
Anyways. It occurs exactly when he's sulking over this -- a blank stare as he simple stares at the mutilated skin of his leg. He's jolted back to attention when he notices a little blue spark across the surface. He blinks, sitting up a little straighter and hissing as his limp leg scrapes against the surface. He feels -- dread, and another emotion slowly rising from the depths of whatever hell his emotions come from.
It's another minute before it happens again -- a little crackle of electricity across his skin. And then it starts to hit him. Oh. He can't feel it -- can't feel the release or anything and he can't control it because despite his attempts at suppressing it another crackle rolls across another minute later. Then it becomes harder to breathe. Oh god. Can't control it. His claws, worn and surrounded by burnt pink flesh, curl as they dig into the table. It hurts a lot but he cant hardly tell. No no no no. He didn't want to use it again. Didn't want to hurt anybody with the power again, after all of the burning he'd seen. Because it hurt. It scarred. He could kill people. Nearly had. And this -- his breath hitches, the slightest tremble to his movements as tears gather in his eyes. nononono. Couldn't stop it -- why? With each crackle, with minutes and minutes inbetween, it gets harder to focus. Harder to convince himself that it's fine. He's been sitting here for ages now, breath ragged as he shakes and cries. He needed to rebandage it -- enough time. Enough time. But he can't move. He doesn't get it -- not at all. Doesn't know why he can't force himself to move a muscle. He squeezes his eyes shut and allows himself a little sob as he manages to partly curl back around himself, paw held as far away as possible. Which, of course, wasn't a lot. So it's here that Izuku can be found, definitely silently sobbing next to a book and with a burned paw occasionally sparking -- rarely sparking, really. It was irrational, of course. It wasn't a big deal, but god, god, he can't handle it and he doesn't know what to do. Doesn't want a reminder of everything,
The incident occurs when he's in the library. Because of course he is. The area he's in has at least been dusted, and Izuku had taken off the bandages all up his right leg for the time being. He doesn't think he should. Wounds needed to be moist to heal properly or whatever but it just -- he's not sure. Well, it was practically dripping everytime he took it off already, and Izuku just didn't like that. So he was having it air out for a little while. Not till it's completely dry, that wasn't ideal, just till it's more comfortable. He doesn't like it, of course -- having his wound out like this is just -- he doesn't like it. It's so gouged and pink and raw and it just scares him. It was gonna scar really badly, Izuku knew that much. He doesn't like it. Doesn't like that he's scarred for life just because of a dumbass mistake -- and that's normally fine. God knows Izuku had enough scars he didn't care about for even dumber reasons. Those were pretty eye-catching, but this would be the very, very first thing people would notice about him. Their first impressions of him would be influenced by it. Hell, even just having it amputated would be less obvious. And -- see, Izuku is basing this on his experiences with his own world. He's not ... sure. How it'll fare in this place. Either way.
Anyways. It occurs exactly when he's sulking over this -- a blank stare as he simple stares at the mutilated skin of his leg. He's jolted back to attention when he notices a little blue spark across the surface. He blinks, sitting up a little straighter and hissing as his limp leg scrapes against the surface. He feels -- dread, and another emotion slowly rising from the depths of whatever hell his emotions come from.
It's another minute before it happens again -- a little crackle of electricity across his skin. And then it starts to hit him. Oh. He can't feel it -- can't feel the release or anything and he can't control it because despite his attempts at suppressing it another crackle rolls across another minute later. Then it becomes harder to breathe. Oh god. Can't control it. His claws, worn and surrounded by burnt pink flesh, curl as they dig into the table. It hurts a lot but he cant hardly tell. No no no no. He didn't want to use it again. Didn't want to hurt anybody with the power again, after all of the burning he'd seen. Because it hurt. It scarred. He could kill people. Nearly had. And this -- his breath hitches, the slightest tremble to his movements as tears gather in his eyes. nononono. Couldn't stop it -- why? With each crackle, with minutes and minutes inbetween, it gets harder to focus. Harder to convince himself that it's fine. He's been sitting here for ages now, breath ragged as he shakes and cries. He needed to rebandage it -- enough time. Enough time. But he can't move. He doesn't get it -- not at all. Doesn't know why he can't force himself to move a muscle. He squeezes his eyes shut and allows himself a little sob as he manages to partly curl back around himself, paw held as far away as possible. Which, of course, wasn't a lot. So it's here that Izuku can be found, definitely silently sobbing next to a book and with a burned paw occasionally sparking -- rarely sparking, really. It was irrational, of course. It wasn't a big deal, but god, god, he can't handle it and he doesn't know what to do. Doesn't want a reminder of everything,
☀ what was i worth
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