[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

[the_lioness]

*A muffled curse sounds from outside the tent. It soon turns into a yelp and a frustrated yell.*

MITHROS, what is that?

*Alanna's ears object to moody grunge rock, it seems. It's possible that she is also having some cold related difficulties due to forgetting her gloves inside.*

[someonesdog]

At some point in the week before the full moon, Angua wanders outside. She's sat for a few hours in the bar, and hasn't seen anyone she knows, so is going for a night time stroll under the waxing moon before heading back to Ankh-Morpork.

She's just considering changing into something a little more comfortable and going for a run in the forest, when the smell catches her nose.

Blood.

Dried blood, admittedly, a few days old. But blood, nevertheless. And copper's instinct kicks in, right before the dog wakes up. This is a trail, and it should be followed.

As she climbs the ladder, she becomes aware of a small note of panic rising in her. Blood is blood is blood, and the smell of that usually hides everything else, but this dried trail smells familiar. It's someone she knows up there, and hurt.

As she strides over to the tent, she calls out, curiously:

"Hello?"

[locks_it_up]

"Baby...?"