[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

[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?"

[mnt_raph]

technomancy? oh the tent? right. used to be, but then...

*Mikey. Say it.*

...had a housesitter sort of set things off in a wonky direction. kitchen works, but the cleanin' stuff goes on the fritz sometimes.

*He stops, as the meaning of the question sinks in.*

which one you bein' now?

[someonesdog]

"Friend."

It's a simple enough word, siad without lokoing up, as she adds the other vegetabvles one by one, and even finds herbs.

One thing about Angua? She knows how to cook tasty vegetarian food. the smell is beginning to rise now.

She grabs another couple of beers and sends one flying to the bed.

[mnt_raph]

*It's a good thing she said what she did when she did, otherwise he wouldn't have seen the beer coming, and that's just alcohol abuse right there.*

yeah well, ain't you ever just wanted to go somewhere an' lick your wounds in peace?

[someonesdog]

She looks over at him again, hard, for a couple of seconds.

"Yes." Literally.

"And someone always comes to drag me back. And I whine and whimper and bark and bite, but I'm always glad to find someone to talk to.
Eventually."

[mnt_raph]

*Raph does his best to not think about the last time someone had to go and drag him...home? No. Not home. His rock to hide under. Only now, that rock has been flipped...and he can't seem to scramble back into the darkness fast enough.*

i don' wanna talk'bout it.

[someonesdog]

"'Course you don't," Angua says, opening a few more cupboards.

"Bowls?"

[mnt_raph]

close the one by the fridge. tell it you want bowls. then open it again. only got so much space, you know?

[someonesdog]

"Oh for gods' sakes," she says, closing it as he says. "Bowls."

She opens it again, and retrieves the bowls, having a look around for the imps that wold have put them there.

Shut up, it's canon.

Pouring the pasta into the sauce, she stirs it together before dishing out into two bowls, and tucks another two beers in her belt before bringing the whole lot over to Raph.

She doesn't say anything.

[mnt_raph]

don'lookit me, i just bought it. tha's all.

*Very slowly, and with a whole lot of trepidation, he looks up at Angua.*

thanks.

[someonesdog]

And when he does, he does sees a blonde woman in a brass breastplate handing him a bowl of pasta.

She's not smiling, as such, but she isn't frowning. Just there.

"Don't mention it," she says, nudging the bowl towards him.

[mnt_raph]

*Raph, on the other hand, just looks pathetic. His healing bruises are making him appear jaundiced, and the black thread of the stitches only serves to make the red of the wound look much brighter than it actually it.*

'kay.

*Gingerly, he takes the bowl from her, settling it on his stomach before taking the tentative first "bite".*

s'good.

*He manages after swallowing that first "bite" whole. It's just easier than chewing.*