[OOM: On the roof, in a tent that dreams of being a studio apartment...]
*Raph is attempting to feed himself. No it's not the act of eating that has him flummoxed, it's the part that comes before the eating that seems to continually get the better of him. Cooking is not Raph's friend. This is why there's a still slightly smoldering pot in the kitchen sink, and why he's grumbling as he eats his sandwich on the couch of the living room portion of his studio. Only slightly louder than his cantankerous mutterings is the sound of the Wizard Wireless off in the corner. Holyhead Harpies are playing Pride of Portree*
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Even if he was looking. Which he's not.
Until, of course, there's the small explosion that marks a dung bomb going off, punctuated by a short, sharp scream.
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great. just freakin' great. what the fuck else could go wrong.
*He gets to his feet and lumbers towards the back flap of the tent. By the door is a flashlight. A really bright, nearly blinding flashlight.*
What?
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"Good evening, sir!"
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Who the hell are you?
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*He still hasn't moved, or lowered the light. Something isn't right, he hadn't heard her coming. Raph shouldn't have to rely on trip wires to know that there are folk on the roof with him.*
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*Wait...did she say practising?*
Practising what, exactly?
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No one should be this happy...ever.*
Didn't. Came already set up. Got some magic proximity thinger...who'd you say you were again?
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Yeah well, some'd say the same thing 'bout stealth.
You...you ain't a ninja, by any chance...are you?
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*Because if he doesn't repeat it, the chances are good most of it won't sink in.*
Which is why I didn' hear you comin' until...well, the boom-splat.
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OK, that may sound a little patronising, the way she seems to be congratulating him for the deduction. It's not meant to be.
"I am sorry about that. I must be out of practice."
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*There's a momentary blush that Raph hopes is lost in the darkness that swarms in after he turns off the flashlight. See, now that she's standing the flashlight is no longer in the direction of her face...*
Right. Uh. You want like, a towel or somethin'?
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*Raph steps back, pulling the entry-covering flap with him as he goes.*
I'll get you a towel. Gotten kinda used to not havin' crap tramped 'round my house.
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...and this will be your standard 'holy crap look at this thing' reaction. With an impressed look. "Oh I say, a magic tent!"
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Huh? Oh right, the tent. Yeah. Bought it some place called Diagonal Alley, or some junk.
*He shrugs away her amazement in his new quest of fetching a towel he doesn't mind getting crap covered.
The studio is a modest one. There's a living-room area directly in front of her, with a small kitchette table to the right.
Further right is the breakfast bar and galley kitchen
Counterclockwise from there is a tiny hallway which leads to the bathroom.
A large comfy looking bed sits across from the kitchen. It should be noted that on the bed is a black fuzzy blanket with a ninja design, and a small stuffed pale girl doll all dressed in black, with a large ankh.*
Here, catch.
*He tosses a towel.*
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"Thank you very much," she repeats. "I am sorry to impose on you like this."
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Don' worry 'bout it. Ain't no big deal. She...the tent, I mean, she'll clean up your clothes if you ain't in'em.
*He sort of holds out the spare ...temporary...clothing out for emphasis. There is particular attention in the lack of eyecontact during this offer.*
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"Well, thank you very much," she says, and even if he was looking for eye contact, he wouldn't get any. "I... uh... is there somewhere I can go?"
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Bathroom.
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It's almost a squeak, and she races to the bathroom to avoid embarrassment, even if the door closes quietly behind her.
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