[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]

angua? thanks. you know, for the food. you're good people.

[someonesdog]

"Thanks," she says, with a genuine smile. "I try."

[mnt_raph]

yeah well, you succeeded.

*Raph half smiles back at her.*

[someonesdog]

And that half-smile's enough, really, Angua thinks. Because at least he's sort of cheered up.

"Have you finished with the bowl?"

[mnt_raph]

*Raph looks down at the bowl in his lap. Somewhere in between the talking and the hiding he's actually managed to eat a good portion of the food. Sure there's still some left over, but it'll keep and he can always finish it later.*

f'now, yeah.

[someonesdog]

"It'll keep," she says, taking both bowls back over to the kitchenette. "There's more in the pan as well."

She finds somewhere to store the pasta and runs the bowls under water briefly. Um, hooray for Discworld hygiene?

[mnt_raph]

*Can't be any worse than living in a sewer. Or...well, it really can.*

good ta' know. you get enough?

[someonesdog]

"Yes, thanks," she confirms, packing away the spare vegetables. "I'll probably eat later anyway."

[mnt_raph]

i don' eat'em, so take what'cha want.

*Or rather, he can't right now.*

[someonesdog]

"Thanks," she says, and does indeed help herself to a handful of celery. After all, she did see his jaw.

Having tidied away, she surveys the kitchenette for mes, before glancing back over at him.

"I'll be back to check on you," she warns.

[mnt_raph]

my resistence is futile, ain't it.

[someonesdog]

"It really is," she agrees. "I'll see what I can do before next week, anyway."

The moon is waxing gibbous outside, waning gibbous in Ankh-Morpork. It throws her internal clock right off.

[mnt_raph]

*Huh?*

What's next week.

[someonesdog]

"Ummm..."

Oh for gods' sake, Angua. Tell him

You saw his reaction to vampires.

Remember Shelley when she found out yuou'd lying to her.

You wanna mess up a growing friendship?

"Time of the month."

[mnt_raph]

*Raph attempts to shield himself, and the nye-neon blush, with both hands.*

Woah! Stop right there.

[someonesdog]

Wonderful, Angua. You've freaked him out already.

"Right," she says with a cough. "So I'll uh... see you later?" she asks, edging cerafully towards the door.

[mnt_raph]

i'll be here. 'less 'm trainin' for my marathon.

[someonesdog]

She rolls her eyes and gives a tiny smirk.

"Right. Well. Take care of yourself, Raph," she says, finding the door.

She shoots a more genuine close muthed smile at him and nods before leaving hurriedly.

Once outside the tent, she sighs, and literally facepalms.

Time of the month...