Mechamaru Without Bandages Novels & Stories

He had an anklet made from animal teeth on his right foot; both of his feet bare. His striking blue eyes were wide with worry as he looked over Torch. His Banded hand was decorated with many woven bracelets, which were quickly stained with blood when Torch used his support to heave himself to his feet. “You ok, Boss?” the man fretted “all I heard was screaming.” “We did an Oath” Torch gasped, showing his friend, who poked the bullet hole. “Fucking hell” the man gasped in awe, before Torch hit him “Slasher has her sarong; she can wrap it around your hand.”

“You mean the red one that the sorcerer had given?” My head simply nods in response. I opened my eyes and a streak of the rising sun beamed unto me as the carriage moves across the forest of tall lush trees. Mayari handed me the pill that I certainly gulped. “How is he?” a question that spurted out of my tongue the second my gaze diverted on my hands. My metallic armor was all taken off of me, wearing only a pair of fabric to cover my body. The skin turned dark lilac and some spots were raven blue. Stinging soreness and shooting pain still hovers all around my arms, though clean cotton was wrapped on my every wound.

I ask Keito as we leave and walk out into the hall. "It's very exciting," says Keito, as usual a taciturn person, but saying everything in the few words he has, "many events occur." "Are the twins a bit annoying?" I ask, and Keito turns his masked face to look at me, and chuckles. He recently changed all the bandages wrapped around his face under his mask to black ones, and I'm assuming that it's because he healed up underneath if he's wounded, and his mask that's a dark color as well with his face is darker than his deep brown hair. I haven't specifically asked what is the reason for his mask and bandages, but I don't ask him at all. Aside from his neck up to below his chin that's visible,

My eyes start to hurt because I'm holding back tears and if I'm honest, all I want to do is hug him and tell him how much I've missed him and how much I love him and how glad I am that he's here with me, in one piece. He’s all bandaged up, though, from his legs to his ribs, arms and even one side of his face. But he doesn't look frail at all. He looks ready to get up and get on with his life. His hair is shorter than it was the last time I saw him and his body looks thicker and more muscular. He's not wearing a robe or anything, only a sheet to cover his privates, so his chest is out and I can see my damn name written there. It's not small and it's not hidden, it's like he wants everyone to

I followed his gaze, and my breath hitched. Mario. He stood there silently, dressed in casual joggers and a black polo shirt. A white bandage wrapped tightly around his upper arm, a plaster ran across his left temple, and his right eye was badly bruised—puffed and dark. He looked like he had gone ten rounds with hell itself and barely crawled back. “Mario,” I breathed, tears falling freely now. I stretched my arms toward him, wincing as my muscles protested. He stepped forward quickly and leaned in, gently wrapping his arms around me.

He took a deep breath, drawing strength from within, and stepped out into the world, prepared to face whatever lay ahead. Standing before the foggy mirror, Ashier carefully unwrapped the bandage around his wound. He winced slightly as he peeled it away, revealing the still-healing gash on his side. Gently, he cleaned the area with antiseptic, his movements deliberate and focused. As he applied a fresh dressing, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude that the injury was not more severe.

Marve led me back to my room and I immediately laid down on the bed as I was already exhausted. The bandage round my stomach was already soaked with my blood as it required dressing. “I'll get you a nurse to dress up the wound,” Marve said. He decided to take his leave when I called back his attention. “Why did you do that?” I asked inquisitively. “What do you mean?” Marve asked as though he had no idea what I meant.

I moved away from him and stared at him from head to toe. "I hope you don't mind the bandages?" He said jokingly and smirked at me until Malia and Noah arrived from behind. "Are you kidding? I'm just glad you are alive without any missing parts." I said. "I do quite have some broken ribs and some open wounds here and there but you know, nothing can kill this bad boy." As he ended his reply by flexing his muscular yet thin arms to my face. I just rolled my eyes at him and saw him take a glimpse of the people behind me.

I gave him a look. “I was not planning to invite him in for tea.” Knock. Knock. The Blood Door shuddered. Cassian stood in front of it. He should not have been standing at all. Mara’s bandages wrapped his chest, arm, and back, but blood had already started showing through in several places. His shirt hung open at the throat, torn and dark with sweat. His face was too pale, and silver light pulsed weakly under his skin where the Heart beat.

But that wasn’t why they wanted to capture it. All of them were painted in a greyish silver, which gave them a sense of authority. It was as though they were all wearing well-used suits of medieval armor. At the head of the team was a highly-tuned, relatively powerful, and well-armored mecha. — Pilot: Mad Monk Role: Flanker Loadout: Terra Nach Mar “Charlatan” Skirmisher Frame [A] Ragnarok Armaments “Sledgefist” Spiked Cestus [B] x2