[OOM: The Roof.]

[mnt_raph]

*If one were to follow the path of blood that goes up and over the outside wall of Milliways one might just find themselves with in earshot of the moody grunge rock that blares from within the tent that dreams of being a studio apartment. And for good reason, the sole inhabitant of said tent is feeling less than stellar at the moment. Actually, less than stellar is a rather large understatement. Raph feels like ass reheated in a non-microwavable container on high for fifteen minutes. That's sort of what happens after you go three rounds with a Slayer.

While it's entirely possible that that he's suffered worse injuries in the past, he's never looked worse. There's something about green skin that just hides bruises better than the pink he's currently sporting.

Currently the entire right side of his face is swollen and purple. He has a staggered line of black stitching running from his elbow to his wrist of his left arm. There is a square of gauze taped to his right thigh which is clearly visible below the cut off sweat shorts he's forced to wear due to his...um...other injuries.

Sleeping hasn't been much of an option. And eating is right out as well. Thankfully, Raph has a well stocked fridge when it comes to beverages.*

Comments

[someonesdog]

She glares at him irritatedly and grabs his hand to have a closer look.

"Not bad for one-handed," she remarks. "Though it's kind of stupid trying to do it yourself."

After this snippet of wisdom, she stands up straight again, worry still lining her face, and looks around the studio.

The scent of beer is very nearly as strong as the lingering red of the blood, and when Angua sees the basket of supplies Alanna sent up, she puts two and two together and makes an assumption about Raph's state of nutrition.

So she turns away from the sulky invalid and heads towadrs the kitchen area.

"You wanna beer?"

[mnt_raph]

what woulda been stupid was bleedin' to death.

*He grumbles, mostly to himself. The conversation is cut short by her mention of beer.*

....

what?

[someonesdog]

"Let me guess, Bar full of wizards and soldiers and lawyers and not one doctor?" Angua says, grabbing a bottle of beer and tossing it over to him with a "Hup!"

"Or even an Igor? Why doesn't that surprise me?"

She stays by the basket, pulling a bottle out for herself and opening it using the blade of her sword just above the hilt. Then she continues to rummage in the basket as she drinks.

[mnt_raph]

*He doesn't even need look up to know where the bottle is, such is the universal nature of the beer toss. Holding the bottle between his knees for stability, Raph pops off the cap with the center prong of his sai.

Then he takes a good long sip.*

bar's got plenty o' doctors. i just ain't been to the bar.

...

what the fuck's an igor?

[someonesdog]

"They're..." Angua pauses, before pulling out a bag of pasta. "...well, they're like doctors, but they really take it seriously. Make an artform out of it. There's not an injury in the world an Igor can't fix up, and they get plenty of practice on themselves."

The pasta is followed by a bag of tomatoes, some peppers, an onion...

"Why haven't you been to the bar?"

[mnt_raph]

can'tgetdown.

*Yet another mumble, this one is almost drowned out by the following pull from the beer bottle.*

[someonesdog]

Angua's doing a farily good job of not looknig at hm at all, drinking from her own beer as she opens andd shuts some cupboards before locating a saucepan.

We'll gloos over the way that she stares blankly at the sink before hestitantly turning a tap and jumping back in surprise.

Totally gloss over it.

"You got up," she says, over the thunder of the water hitting the bottom of the pan.

[mnt_raph]

up don't require landin'.

*He says in total gloss mode. He's smart enough to realize that not glossing will only bring her attention back onto him and that's the furthest thing from what he actually wants at this particular moment.*

[someonesdog]

"Neither does going straight in from outside," Angua says, carrying the saucepan over to the...

"OK, I give up. How does this work?"

[mnt_raph]

that weren't an option....how does what work?

*Raph looks over.*

the stove? don't look at me, i can barely make spagetti'os.

*Biting back a cringe, he scoots himself up for a better view of the kitchenette.*

[someonesdog]

Her head snaps up when he moves.

"I've got it," she lies. "It's just... bloody technomancy, I hate it."

Holding the saucepan in one hand, she tries turnng some of the knobs experimentally.

[mnt_raph]

a'right a'right...

*Is all he's able to manage before a large burst of flame spurts out from the top of the magical stove.*

Woah, watch your eyebrows....

[someonesdog]

It's not a yelp taht comes from Angua's mouth. It's more of a scre...

No, OK, it's a yelp.

Hesitantly, she pokes at it again and manages to get the flame down to a manageable size. The pan goes on top.

"OK, I've got it now," she says.

"Why wasn't it an option?"

[mnt_raph]

why wasn't what an option?

*Raph, far too fixated on watching her work the stove, doesn't realize he's walking back to a place he'd rather hoped they were leaving for good.*

[someonesdog]

"Going into the bar?"

It's fascinating really. Although she can't see why it's better than a decent range stove.

Water on to boil, Angua turns her attention to the vegetables, and the short knife she pulls from her belt.

[mnt_raph]

*ABORT ABORT ABORT. Throw her off! Think of something witty. Anything! Just do it quickly!*

uh....because it wasn't.

*Well done, toaster. Well done.*

[someonesdog]

She doesn't look up all the while she's chopping the onion. And really, she thinks she deserves a medal for that alone. Ever tried chopping an onion with a werewolf's sense of smell?

"Why not?"

Her tone is still one of idle chit chat as she wipes her nose and eyes on the back of her wrist and tips the onions into a smaller pan.

[mnt_raph]

it. just. wasn't. ain't no one down there can heal better than i can up here, unless they use magic...an' i hate magic.

*Says the guy living in a magical tent. This is somehow lost on him.*

[someonesdog]

Not on Angua. But she agress with him, so laughs.

"Oh hells, I wasn't suggesting you let a wizard play about with your body. That's just crazy.

"I meant doctors. Someone who could stitch you up."

[mnt_raph]

ain't needed a doctor before, ain't needin' one now.

*Again, he tries to fold his arms across his chest...and again he's reminded exactly why he can't.*

gah...'sides, they ask too many questions.

[someonesdog]

"Like policemen?"

Angua's found the fridge in her search for butter. And she's staring at it in wonder, with the door held open.

[mnt_raph]

jus' like, now that you mention it.

*Her movement catches his eye, and he glances over towards the kitchenette again.*

What, I got Gozer in there or somethin'?

[someonesdog]

"What?"

She snaps herself out of it, and her nose helps her find the butter.

"How relaible is all this stuff?" she asks, adding butter to the onions, and chopping a clove of garlic into it.

[mnt_raph]

reliable? lady, if you're askin' if the food is still good, keep in mind i used to live an' eat in a sewer.

[someonesdog]

"No, it's good," Angua replies, "I'd smell if it was off. I just haven't seen so much technomancy in one household. It'd never work at home."

As she stirs the sauce, the water starts to boil, and she adds the pasta

"So what did happen?"