<strong>Name:</strong>Terry Hunter (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=264761.msg13074475#msg13074475)<br/><strong>Time / Location:</strong>Evening - Ortiz Backyard<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Savannah Ortiz<br/><strong>Content:</strong>In the spotlight<br/><br/><hr/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/Setting%20and%20RP/black-metalhead-2.jpg?1490501433475&amp;1490501435218&amp;1490501437401)</div>"Shit..." Terry sighed to himself, examining his foot. It wasn't horror-movie blood or anything that would need stitches, but there was still enough blood to make it look worse than it actually was. He needed to clean it off and bandage it, but first he needed to find his way home. Sighing, he started rifling through the clothes in his lap. He'd need his pants, and his shirt... well, he wasn't about to get blood on his Animals as Leaders shirt. No way in Hell. Which left him with his now lone sock. Which, truth told, was pretty useless without its hetero-life-mate-Silent-Bob. He turned it inside-out, thinking that would somehow make it<em>cleaner</em>, and began to wrap it around the top of his foot.<br/><br/>"Well, now that is not what I was expecting at all. Are you alright, mijo?"<br/><br/>"Sssshhhhh....!" Terry almost cussed again, his body going rigid and upright, hands in the air. The blood-dotted sock flashed in the soft glow of the light from the house. How in the Hell did these women keep getting the drop on him? Was it the booze? God damn. Letting out an exasperated breath, he looked to his lap... noticing that he wasn't entirely covered up. Shifting his clothing for some extra modesty, he cleared his throat.<br/><br/>"I'm sorry for trespassing, ma'am," he said, a weariness to his voice. "It's... a bit of a long story. All I need is to get my clothes back on, directions to Robinson Road or Acacia Circle, and I'll be out of your hair." He crossed his fingers in the "scout's honor" position, then lifted his leg so that he could wrap the sock around his injured foot... only for his t-shirt and jeans to drop onto the ground, leaving him exposed. He cursed again, grabbing the pile and trying for modesty one more time.<br/><br/><strong><em><span class="bbc_u">Continued in Casa de Ortiz... (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=265283.msg13095053#msg13095053)</span></em></strong>