Anonymous whispered: A rather hurried knock comes at Ples' door.

tiktiktikboom:

dartonthemobster:

tiktiktikboom:

Another realtor? Really? The ticking man shook his head; he should just put a sign out on the lawn – Not Interested in Selling. He walked downstairs and opened the door.

Not! Interested, thank you-

A man stood leaning heavily against Ples’ doorframe - this, in fact, seemed to be the main thing keeping him upright. Luke Darton was a bloody mess. A lopsided grin beamed forth out from behind a split lip leaking blood onto his chin. Bruises littered his face, some oozing red. The rest of him had not fared too much better. He was clutching one shoulder, the arm of his shirt stained red, and his leg seemed to be bleeding as well.

"Hullo!" the man said, sounding chipper, but with a slight slur. "Tibenoch, I believe? I hope I’m not… Interrupting anythin—g—."

And, with a slight halting in his voice, he collapsed onto the doormat.

Now THIS was certainly unexpected.

Y-ye! You!

Ples’ eyebrows came down in a rush of anger, and would have attempted to tell Darton off if the man hadn’t collapsed on his front doorstep. The ticking man shoved his head out the door. Who was watching? Did anyone see him? Ples stooped down and grabbed Darton’s shirt, dragging him inside the empty house without any particular attention to care - it was more important that no one see what happened.

Okay, okayokayokayokay, calm down. Ples tried to slow his ticking. What do we need to do? Maybe it would be best to get Darton cleaned up? That might reveal the bigger wounds…

Wait.

Why help him at all? Darton had been nothing but a pain to Ples. He sighed and released his grip on Darton’s shirt, letting the body drop the short distance to the ground. Oh, he would be fine. What’s a little more facial soreness to wake up to?

Well, he couldn’t have some individual just bleeding all over the new(ish) carpet he bought with Millie. Besides, this proved to be an unforeseen opportunity. Using his foot to maneuver the body this way and that, Ples cleared the space to his trapdoor.

Ples put his arms underneath Darton’s armpits, gripping him about the chest so he could easily be dragged into the darkness below.

There wasn’t anyone outside. Not yet, anyway.

The body was light and compact - Darton was either very underweight for his size, or all his mass was centered in muscles rather than fat. Unconscious, his face lost the sparkle it usually held, and instead looked merely rather annoyed. Had Darton been awake, he might have apologized for bloodying Ples’ floor, and suggested a few helpful and very effective methods of removing bloodstains.

As it was, he woke up like one might exit a night of drinking with pirates - groggily, and with difficulty. “…Ahnnh.”

Anonymous whispered: A rather hurried knock comes at Ples' door.

tiktiktikboom:

Another realtor? Really? The ticking man shook his head; he should just put a sign out on the lawn – Not Interested in Selling. He walked downstairs and opened the door.

Not! Interested, thank you-

A man stood leaning heavily against Ples’ doorframe - this, in fact, seemed to be the main thing keeping him upright. Luke Darton was a bloody mess. A lopsided grin beamed forth out from behind a split lip leaking blood onto his chin. Bruises littered his face, some oozing red. The rest of him had not fared too much better. He was clutching one shoulder, the arm of his shirt stained red, and his leg seemed to be bleeding as well.

"Hullo!" the man said, sounding chipper, but with a slight slur. "Tibenoch, I believe? I hope I’m not… Interrupting anythin—g—."

And, with a slight halting in his voice, he collapsed onto the doormat.

tagged: #cdwalker

cdwalker:

dartonthemobster:

He looked at it in awe, as if it were a rare gem he’d found on a chance. One hand brushed over the top, smoothing down the scales, then he looked up, smiling, and turned the gesture into another handshake. “Absolutely marvelous. Seamless transition.” He was fairly new to the world of the supernatural, and his craving for new adventures and experiences was vast. “Quite beautiful, if you don’t mind my saying. I hope it doesn’t get in the way of your livelihood.” He imagined it actually gave her quite a few advantages to the normal human, but kept that to himself. Possible business rivalry should not be opened in public, and certainly not at a party.

Wow. This man really was enthusiastic. And the bit of flattery had her verbally preening, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as she lay her ears back flat against her ginger hair.

Well.. I mean. Y’know~”

She found it hard to really brag about anything, but she’d pretend like she had something to brag about, if it got her more attention. Now that she knew he was willing to provide, she’d probably press him for more when the opportunity arose.

"Nah. Makes said livelihood a lil’ easier, actually.. Don’ really need t’use scalpels." Only a partial joke. She’d cut open a cadaver with those claws. They worked pretty well for that purpose. And… various others.

He offered a cozy smile, watching her accept the praise . It seemed he’d found a weakness. How fun.~

"Ah, well. I’m glad it works out for you." Hopefully he would never experience the sensation himself. Darton wondered vaguely if they could be cut or filed, but dismissed the thought. "I hope you find yourself comfortable here?" Around him, the party hummed and swelled, and the fire in the grate crackled with a mixture of menace and joy.

dartonthemobster seeks your assistance

thegirlfromnapoli:

image

"Is there anything I can help you out with, sir?" 

"Good evening, good evening! No,I’m afraid I’m not in need of anything but perhaps your name, Miss…?" Darton smiled widely, offering a hand.

sodoffyabuggers:

dartonthemobster:

To be fair, it wasn’t Darton who had decided on a valet driveway. He’d simply inherited the house, and made enough money for its upkeep.

Gerard looked down his nose at Worth. It was difficult to tell if this was because Worth was Worth, or whether Gerard simply looked down his nose at everybody - he was rather tall, and his nose was rather long, and he was grumpy with pretty much everyone - but it was what it was. He nodded, and gestured inside. “Sir.”

There were, in fact, a library, rooms paneled with mahogany, and wine chilling, but there were no world globes. Instead, the wine chilled in large buckets at the drinks table on the other side of the room. Darton was just putting back a bottle of white wine, glass balanced in his hand, when the sound of the front door closing alerted him to another guest. He looked up, face radiant with joy at meeting another possible friend. He made his way down the hall, beaming brightly. “Ah, good evening! My name is Luke Darton. A pleasure to meet you, Mr…?”

Well Worth was rather tall as well, and his nose might have met or exceeded Gerard’s in length, and he knew all about that. Had his fair share of looking down on people, and being looked down on, so it didn’t bother him. He did give a little mock bow as he came inside. Why yes, by all means sir, please excuse me I left my horse drawn carriage at my other chateau. Grinning all the while. “Thanks~”

He caught sight of the drink table and, in the same vein as Charlie, made his way toward it. Saw it before he saw Darton in fact, and met him in the middle. 

Having people happy to meet him wasn’t something he was used to, and Darton’s enthusiasm took him aback a little. Snorted, reached out and clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. His illustrious, dorky host. “Worth. Luce Worth. ” Then he used that hand to pull Darton just a little closer, muttering under his breath and stealing a glance at Gerard, “Ain’t th’ stiffs at th’ door supposed to keep th’ riffraff out?

A look of intense listening, as if he were about to be told a huge secret, took over Darton’s face as Worth leaned in, then he burst out in loud laughter. “I hope Gerard didn’t bother you. He doesn’t approve of anyone, even me.” He chuckled, laughter dying away. “Yes, he generally keeps gawkers out, but of course not my esteemed guests.

"So tell me, Mr. Worth, what is it you do?" He swirled his wine, taking a sip.

cdwalker:

dartonthemobster:

"Ah! How very kind of you," Darton burbled, grinning widely. He would probably end up calling on her, if ever he was injured. It was difficult to explain stray bullet wounds and the occasional knifing to an official hospital. He had little doubt he could pay whatever fee she might charge. He made enough on commission to afford keeping himself in physical repair.

He blinked. He hadn’t assumed anything - partner had a very different connotation than the romantic sort in his line - but it was interesting that this woman found it cause for alarm. She obviously wanted it clear that she had nothing to do with her partner romantically. Perhaps there was a crush. How cute. Darton’s eyes crinkled with cheer. “Of course.”

Alright, alright, he couldn’t help it any more. “I have to say,” he finally said, pursing his lips pensively, The smile faltered on his face for the first time that night. “Your hands are absolutely fascinating. May I…?” One hand found its way forward, as if to shake hers. He seemed to be yearning for something, following the beckoning of something new to him.

Ah well.. A crush would not be exactly what she’d call it. In fact, she’d probably flat out deny it! Which was. Exactly what she did. And she cleared her throat for a moment before his fixation on her hands became apparent and her attention was brought back down to the present.

"Hm???" Confusion was her first reaction. Interest was her second. "Oh. Uh.. Sure..?" She wasn’t bothered much, and brought her hand out to set it in his. If anything, she was relatively flattered. He didn’t seem disgusted by the scaly limbs that she sported, at any rate, and a bit of a crooked smile formed, partially uncertain of what, exactly, he seemed to be so interested in. For a man who seemed to have several avenues of income, she was hard pressed to believe that he hadn’t seen anything like her before..

Then again, she figured, rarely anyone had.

Her claws flexed just a little in his hold. Yup. Thems claws alright.

He looked at it in awe, as if it were a rare gem he’d found on a chance. One hand brushed over the top, smoothing down the scales, then he looked up, smiling, and turned the gesture into another handshake. “Absolutely marvelous. Seamless transition.” He was fairly new to the world of the supernatural, and his craving for new adventures and experiences was vast. “Quite beautiful, if you don’t mind my saying. I hope it doesn’t get in the way of your livelihood.” He imagined it actually gave her quite a few advantages to the normal human, but kept that to himself. Possible business rivalry should not be opened in public, and certainly not at a party.

cdwalker:

dartonthemobster:

"Ah, a doctor?" His smile grew. "How lovely." Something with scales obviously couldn’t go through med school; she was probably a hack doctor. Perfect. He needed stitching-up on the down-low every once and again. Still, he should do his research before saying too much. One never knew. "Let’s hope you’re there if I ever have an emergency, hm?" She was grinning like a child showing their drawing. How cute.

"So, Charlie," he began, turning to pour himself a measure of scotch, "Where is it you live, being a neighbor of mine?" Probably best not to ask about the ears yet. Yes, they were interesting, but not yet. Wait for the right time.

More like a two year old showing off some macaroni art, but the similarities were there, anyway. 

"I can offer my services, if ever y’need ‘em, yeah. Don’ charge too much. Also work on barter, if y’got somethin’ I might need or want." She clicked her tongue at him, as if this was some sort of inside information. It wasn’t. Not really. But it didn’t hurt to play the game like she and Worth were still top secret hack doctors. The latter part was true. But not the former. People staggered into their warehouse every day, whether or not they were hurt. A weird phenomena in and of itself but - she wouldn’t argue. Provided interesting conversation, at any rate.

"Live in a clinic in th’warehouse district. Not exactly Park Avenue, but heh.. I get by. Live there with a friend o’ mine actually. Uh. Well. I guess y’could call us partners." She paused. Rewind. Catch yourself before some odd insinuation is made. "In - in a professional sense. Heh. Business. Y’know how it is." Nevermind that they shared a bedroom. Yeah. Nevermind that.

Details.

"Ah! How very kind of you," Darton burbled, grinning widely. He would probably end up calling on her, if ever he was injured. It was difficult to explain stray bullet wounds and the occasional knifing to an official hospital. He had little doubt he could pay whatever fee she might charge. He made enough on commission to afford keeping himself in physical repair.

He blinked. He hadn’t assumed anything - partner had a very different connotation than the romantic sort in his line - but it was interesting that this woman found it cause for alarm. She obviously wanted it clear that she had nothing to do with her partner romantically. Perhaps there was a crush. How cute. Darton’s eyes crinkled with cheer. “Of course.”

Alright, alright, he couldn’t help it any more. “I have to say,” he finally said, pursing his lips pensively, The smile faltered on his face for the first time that night. “Your hands are absolutely fascinating. May I…?” One hand found its way forward, as if to shake hers. He seemed to be yearning for something, following the beckoning of something new to him.

tagged: #profpain

profpain:

dartonthemobster:

"Mr. Armastus, how nice. Would you care for a drink?" He began leading the way to the back table, which was covered in drinks and desserts of all kinds. "I could do myself with a glass. Tell me, where is it you’ve come from, then, to be a neighbor?"

I’ve become a resident at the clinic of Doc Worth and his assistant Charlie." Phineas trailed along more than carelessly. He picked up a glass of wine just to fit into the picture. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but one glass wouldn’t hurt anything. More thank likely.

Seems to be a rough part of town.

"How interesting. Are you a doctor as well, then?" Perhaps in impudent question, but hopefully he could learn a bit. It was always good to know what shady skills were about.

He poured himself a glass of white wine and swirled it delicately by the stem, not looking up. “I suppose so. They seem to be a rough pair. Still, it seems to suit them.”

Finally looking up, Darton caught Armastus’ eye. “Does it bother you? I would hate for you to feel unsafe in your own home.” He smiled. His own little joke. Disrupting people’s homes, waiting for them in their safe places, watching the looks on people’s faces, was absolutely delightful.

sodoffyabuggers:

dartonthemobster:

Darton’s house is not a mansion, but only barely. Situated on top of a small hill and bordered at its edges by a chest-height stone wall, a dirt drive led all the way from the stone wall to a circle by the front door and then off to the garage. The grounds were spacious, but not ridiculous, and held trees, bushes, long grasses that looked as if they were not particularly regularly maintained, and a smattering of wildflowers. Behind the house, one could find a small pond, complete with tiny ornamental bridge.

Were one to enter through the large wooden double front doors, they would find an equally luxurious interior. Wooden floors covered with a large ornamental carpet, a large fireplace at the end of the hall, and several dark wooden doors leading into other rooms. Several of these were locked. Some were not, including those of the library, the kitchen, and Darton’s personal study. The stairs leading up to the second floor, curving their way up either side of the far end of the room, were carpeted with long rugs as well. Upstairs, one might find several empty bedrooms, the upper entrance to the library, a few hidden servants’ passageways, and a a few more locked doors.

Tonight, Darton had brought in extra help, besides his usual three hands. Gerard, the butler, minded the door, inviting guests in. Alice, the maid, was overseeing a few servers in the stocking of the drinks and desserts table, as well as any necessary cleanup as the party went on. Finally, Cook was at her place in the kitchen, ordering a few helpers around as they mixed drinks, baked pastries, and made several types of coffee and tea. Darton himself was bouncing excitedly in the hall, waiting for his guests. The party was begun.

Worth was very familiar with circle driveways. You could always tell who had money and who didn’t by a few telltale things, and one of them was a driveway that circled around the front yard like the house was it’s own little private cul-de-sac. Like valets were expected to drop important people off. Worth didn’t have a valet and he wasn’t an important person, but he came anyway. Came as he was, because he’d run away from the high life a long time ago and wasn’t about to change that. 

Taking his hands out of his pockets, he opened the door and-

And of course there was a butler. 

Instead of brushing past him he flashed a yellow toothed grin and propped an elbow against the door frame. “‘Oi there Jeeves. This where th’ party is?” Glancing behind him to catch a glimpse of the layout, and maybe to see Darton if the man hadn’t gotten himself busy elsewhere. 

The place really was nice, he had to admit. Just looking at it gave him the feel of libraries and mahogany and world globes with wine chilling in them. He felt the urge to wipe his shoes, some phantom instinct from when his dad would take him out to meet his fellow surgeon friends. 

He didn’t.

To be fair, it wasn’t Darton who had decided on a valet driveway. He’d simply inherited the house, and made enough money for its upkeep.

Gerard looked down his nose at Worth. It was difficult to tell if this was because Worth was Worth, or whether Gerard simply looked down his nose at everybody - he was rather tall, and his nose was rather long, and he was grumpy with pretty much everyone - but it was what it was. He nodded, and gestured inside. “Sir.”

There were, in fact, a library, rooms paneled with mahogany, and wine chilling, but there were no world globes. Instead, the wine chilled in large buckets at the drinks table on the other side of the room. Darton was just putting back a bottle of white wine, glass balanced in his hand, when the sound of the front door closing alerted him to another guest. He looked up, face radiant with joy at meeting another possible friend. He made his way down the hall, beaming brightly. “Ah, good evening! My name is Luke Darton. A pleasure to meet you, Mr…?”

Open RP - Homecoming Party

dartonthemobster:

Darton’s house is not a mansion, but only barely. Situated on top of a small hill and bordered at its edges by a chest-height stone wall, a dirt drive led all the way from the stone wall to a circle by the front door and then off to the garage. The grounds were spacious, but not ridiculous, and held trees, bushes, long grasses that looked as if they were not particularly regularly maintained, and a smattering of wildflowers. Behind the house, one could find a small pond, complete with tiny ornamental bridge.

Were one to enter through the large wooden double front doors, they would find an equally luxurious interior. Wooden floors covered with a large ornamental carpet, a large fireplace at the end of the hall, and several dark wooden doors leading into other rooms. Several of these were locked. Some were not, including those of the library, the kitchen, and Darton’s personal study. The stairs leading up to the second floor, curving their way up either side of the far end of the room, were carpeted with long rugs as well. Upstairs, one might find several empty bedrooms, the upper entrance to the library, a few hidden servants’ passageways, and a a few more locked doors.

Tonight, Darton had brought in extra help, besides his usual three hands. Gerard, the butler, minded the door, inviting guests in. Alice, the maid, was overseeing a few servers in the stocking of the drinks and desserts table, as well as any necessary cleanup as the party went on. Finally, Cook was at her place in the kitchen, ordering a few helpers around as they mixed drinks, baked pastries, and made several types of coffee and tea. Darton himself was bouncing excitedly in the hall, waiting for his guests. The party was begun.

tagged: #profpain

profpain:

dartonthemobster:

I like your style. Perhaps we should play a few games sometime, hm? Old and new? I’ll bring the latter, if you bring the former.

image

So long as ‘fun’ benefits me and does not bother my employer; I am willing to see your definition of the word.

It’s difficult to know what doesn’t bother your employer. He seems a rather botherable man.

Nevertheless, I understand your point. I can’t promise any benefits beyond the mere enjoyment of playing, but I will await our game with baited breath.

tagged: #profpain

profpain:

dartonthemobster:

I suppose. I simply find tart and sweet to be two sides to the same coin, combining beautifully to make something completely new. A new kind of person. Is that the type of person you are, Mr. Armastus?

image

I’m an old type of person, friend. Cain was the first and I certainly won’t be the last.

I like your style. Perhaps we should play a few games sometime, hm? Old and new? I’ll bring the latter, if you bring the former.

profpain:

I wouldn’t say that. Simply… Full of vibrant energy.

Sure. I’m energetic and vibrant and fruity.

But every drink suggested seems to have two layers or two contrasting tastes.

Almonds (cyanide) and fruit.

Tart and sweet.

And so forth.

I suppose. I simply find tart and sweet to be two sides to the same coin, combining beautifully to make something completely new. A new kind of person. Is that the type of person you are, Mr. Armastus?

tagged: #ooc

cdwalker:

i am going to sleep right here on the floor thank you someone leave me a blanket so i do not freeze to death tonight

[Were Darton there, he would bring a pillow and a blanket, do up a little bed around Charlie, and then bring down a sleeping bag and one of those stupid star lights that make constellations across your ceiling. Sleepover!]

What drink can you see my muse being? Alcoholic, fizzy, coffee? Describe it fully.

(Source: askboxmemes2013)