[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]

"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.*

[someonesdog]

Yeah, well, she's seen worse. Honestly.

"Thanks."

[mnt_raph]

you make a habit o' showin' up on random rooftops to make people dinner?

[someonesdog]

"There's a trail of blood," she points out.

[mnt_raph]

*He swallows just a bit harder than normal.*

there...uh...there is?

*He was hoping rain would have washed that away.*

[someonesdog]

"Uh huh.

"Course, it's nearly washed away now, but I couldn't not follow it. Sorry."

[mnt_raph]

*Raph blinks back at her, fork half way to his mouth.*

huh?

[someonesdog]

She raises a hand and waves sheepishly.

"Copper. It's like when you see someone running away. You have to chase."

Oh the convenient irony.

[mnt_raph]

*Okay, that's something that Raph understands. People who've done nothing wrong rarely have a reason to run.*

you need to drink more decaf.

[someonesdog]

"I think I tried that once," Angua remarks. "Here.

"Rather defeats the purpose of coffee, doesn't it?"

[mnt_raph]

yup. which is why i brew the strong stuff in the orange container.

[someonesdog]

"Do I want to know?"

[mnt_raph]

the thing...the thing you make coffee in? the glass things. the one with the orange top is supposed to be decaf. so i make strong stuff in it so people think i'm drinkin' decaf.

it ain't like you can taste the caffine.

[someonesdog]

The explanation actually makes sense, and Angua snorts with laughter.

"Oh that's a good one."

[mnt_raph]

*Raph tries to smirk back at her, but with the yellowing bruises it just sort of comes off as being rather pathetic.*

ain't a dummy all the time.

[someonesdog]

"No, you've got being a conniving bastard right down," Angua admits. "You'd love the lads back home."

[mnt_raph]

oh yeah? how's that?

[someonesdog]

"Suspicious, pranking bastards the lot of them," she says. Except for Carrot, of course, but that's why she loves him, really.

"You'd fit right in."

[mnt_raph]

right on.

...

wait...ain't you a cop?

[someonesdog]

That at least makes the corner of Angua's mouth twitch sheepishly.

"Yeah, and?"

[mnt_raph]

didn't really 'magine cops havin' a good sense o'humor.

*It's a challange as much as a statement of fact.
Of course, in defense of New York's finest, being faced with a five foot tall turtle with weapons tends to prompt shooting first and asking questions later.*

[someonesdog]

"I didn't say good," she points out. "I said conniving pranking bastards.

"Like... well, we've just got a new recruit a couple of days ago? A vampire."