Goretober 2k17

Goretober Day 1- Minor Injury/Bruises

Jonah had already expected to see a few scratches and small bruises, as those usually came with fighting batshit insane monsters, but there's no way he could have expected this.

He winced and gasped at the sharp pain in his torso as he tugged his shirt over his head to examine the damage in his bedroom mirror. He tossed his blue shirt to the edge of his bed, the movement of his arm making his body protest. He glanced back to the mirror, and stared stunned at the damage done to his mocha skin.

The usually soft and warm flesh around his right side was mottled with deep shades of purples and blues. If he looked closer, he could see light green and yellow interlaced with the other sharper shades. It was horrific, but the colors all mixed together were almost beautiful in a way. Jonah was sure if he saw it on a canvas and not his flesh, it would be something he would admire.

He wondered what had happened to cause this much damage. When Jonah was in a fight, he often got into a certain zone of thinking that made him resilient to pain. It was something the team all admired in him. He was worried, nothing had ever hurt like this before, and this looked intense and throbbed with such force that made him pant in pained gasps.

His wings were folded tensely against his back, making his back muscles ache. The ivory feathers quivered as he brought up his arm to see how far the damage went. He did it slowly, careful to not hurt himself more than he has to.

The bruising faded to a stop a bit below his armpit. He prodded his finger experimentally against his tender skin and yelped involuntarily. Pain shot up his side quickly and mercilessly, and Jonah quickly moved his hand away.

He wasn't sure what to do. This seemed serious, but he wouldn't want to waste anyone's time with a bruise. Everyone else had gotten worse. He was a warrior. He decided to suck it up and allow it to heal on its own.

With a pained sigh, he reached over to his bed and grabbed his shirt from the corner. He whimpered quietly as he tugged it over his head, his breathing shallow and loud. The purple and blue hues were hidden under the fabric of his clothing. Each time the material skimmed over his flesh, his body responded in angry throbs.

He looked in the mirror one last time, took a deep breath which he immediately regretted, and limped to his bedroom door.