It's that time again;


tiktiktikboom remind you of anyone?


I understand why people like to hug. Even I enjoy it. Sometimes. Rarely. With closed eyes.


I’m still trying to figure out how i’m going to do Ples’ sideburns. 

note to self : Google how to tie a tie 




easily breakable.

Etymology: from Latin ruptūra, equivalent to rupt(us), past participle of rumpere, “to break” + -ile, a suffix of adjectives expressing capability, susceptibility, liability, aptitude, etc., from Latin -ilis.

[Beatriz Martin Vidal - Fragile]

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





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-

He chuckled. Ahh, so it seemed Tibby could be fun to play with, after all! “You are an interesting man, Mr. Tibenoch. I think I might be able to, but I would appreciate it if you would call a taxi.”

His self-searching had told him his inventory consisted of a small handgun (very light - probably only a couple bullets left) and a small lockpick-slash-shiv. His crowbar was probably still in the streets somewhere. With a grunt, he rolled on his side, slowly pushing himself upright until he was sitting on the edge of the table. “Stairs might be a problem.”

Ples did not reply. If he had caught Darton’s attention, he did not want to keep it, so he made no indication one way or the other.

Try your best.

The heavy door had to be propped open. As Ples set himself to the task, he asked Darton:

Tell me, is whatever sent you to my door going to come back looking for you?

Pushy, pushy. He had thought Ples was more or less a pushover. Suppose he’d better be refining his ideas of the man. Luke stayed on the edge of the table as Ples worked on the door, loathe to stand before he had to. Even being upright was tiring. He could feel the bruises all over his body.

"Whatever sent me to your door? Just a car accident, honestly. Nothing to worry about." Not a very good lie, as car accidents didn’t put bullets in people. Nevertheless, it wasn’t like Ples didn’t know he was lying, or that he wasn’t about to admit what had really happened.

Ples lifted a grizzled eyebrow at Darton’s explanation. If Tiben had decided to be helpful, he would have brought it to Ples’ attention that Darton, under the influence of great pain, had given a bunch of other explanations - none of which meshed with the overall narrative.

But he kept quiet.

And Ples wasn’t as dumb as he made himself look (most of the time).

Indeed. And where is your car? I think it would be most advantageous if we were to call a towing service.

He locked the door open.

And get you a ride to the nearest car repair garage.

Sure, he could run with the explanation.

It was a dark night, Blight was out for a walk with her small dog, but she took a wrong turn, and after hours of being lost, she had ended up at Tibenoch's home. Blight slowly walked up to his doorstep, Snickers in her arms. The medic gently knocked on his door a few times, swallowing nervously. "H-Hello?"




Ples flinched at the sound of the knocking, like he always did whenever someone knocked on the door. He shut his book so quickly that the pages coughed up a puff of dust. The ticking man took his time traveling down the stairs and, once he finally got to the door, he only opened it a tiny sliver; just enough for his eye to get a full view of the front porch.


Ah, I’m…I’m actually n-not too sure. She. Seven’s the only bird I’ve ver had. She does like…stuff.

Seven, perched in a dark corner, flew to the shelf to make sure no one was trying to take her things or upset her nest. She vocalized, but only a little, before setting herself on Ples’ shoulder. She examined the dog from his height, unsure if Snickers was trustworthy.

Snickers looked up at Ples, wagging her tail and her ears lifted up. She let out a low bark, her head cocked to the side. Blight noticed Snickers, pointing a finger out to scold, “Nein! Ruhig!” She snapped, soon enough Snickers’s tail curled and ears went back, walking over behind Ples. Blight sighed, looking up at Ples, “Apologies!”

No, no, n-no need to apologise.

Seven bobbed a bit at the bark, and was prepared to vocalize a reply, but Ples plucked her from his shoulder and put her back in the nest. Getting the hint, Seven stayed put and kept quiet.

Ravens aren’t really…pets, so she’s often temperamental and not well-socialised. This one-

He knelt down to stroke the dog’s head.

-is just fine.




foolish; silly; trifling.

Etymology: from Latin desipiens, present participle of desipere, “to be foolish”; de-, “reversal, undoing” + sapere, “to be wise”.

[Firell - Time for Tea]