Removing my mask wasn’t a problem, but unstrapping my armor and getting my arms out of the sleeves made my ribs ache.  A fresh bruise had layered on top of the old one, black and purple over a purple-green.

Hey, it’s a Tattletale bruise!

On top of a Toilet Paper Roll bruise.

I had to pause for a minute to catch my breath before I began on the legs.

Yeah, better catch those legs too before they run away from you!

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(I’m not a dad yet, but if I become one some day, you know I’m prepared with the dad jokes.)

I’d been wearing waterproof tights under my costume, and I cringed to think of the fact that I’d been wading in filthy water with the injuries exposed.

Eesh, that’s not good.

I got the first aid kit I’d brought down from my room and found a pair of tweezers.  Tatters of melted plastic from the leggings clung to the creases and edges of the burn.  Slowly, carefully, I worked my way down, removing the black fragments, digging in where necessary.  Every area I cleaned, I disinfected.  The largest burn covered my right heel, the top of my foot, and half of my calf, but the toes were okay. 

The other marked the left ankle, heel and a patch small enough to cover with my hand on the shin.  There was less damage, but there was more melted spandex crusting it.  If I had second degree burns, it would be there.

Not gonna lie, there’s not much to comment on during these sections.

I do think I understand why they happen on-screen, though. Showing the nitty gritty of dealing with the injuries sustained in cape battles helps support the deromanticization of the cape life that’s a strong throughline of Worm.

I… don’t actually think I’ve talked broadly about that theme before. It’s just so thoroughly a thing that it has just felt like it went without saying.