25th Blast || Mello || [In Person]

[worldsrunnerup.livejournal.com]

[Mello's in the safe house, wrapped up and struggling to breathe just like everyone else, with one difference. He can't move his shoulder without bringing a wave of excruciating, nauseating pain. He's trying to hide this but the constant pain in his shoulder is getting to be a bit much.

The explosion that left a good fourth of his body covered in third degree burns destroyed much of the tissue of Mello's left shoulder. Ever since then it had been wracked with pain. He got used to it and rehabilitated himself. But the cold that was one thing that brought out the pain like nothing else. Ironically in the cold it throbbed and burned like it had when the wound was fresh but it felt like it was coming from the inside out rather than from some external force.

By today, Friday, it had gotten to the point that Mello is trying not to move any part of his aching left side. He is considering immobilizing his arm somehow but can't think of how to do it without drawing attention to his predicament. So instead he sits, a look of agony crossing his face every so often that he scowls away.]

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[In Person]

[worldsrunnerup.livejournal.com]

[He watches Black Jack's retreating back for a moment before grabbing the aforementioned pain killer. Getting the needle ready is agonizing because the tiny gestures this requires send stinging shock waves up his arm. But after popping whatever bubbles he are in the syringe Mello jams it into his shoulder with the air of a heroin addict getting his fix. He then settles back down and waits for them to take affect]

Fucking thing.