Mushroomtheif​:

picturedspells​:

⋆៹ ✩۪۟۟≭  Jenny && River Song

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Jenny didn’t notice River’s being slightly unsettled; she was far too excited about this opportunity. She gave her a big grin at the compliment.

“Oh yes, very. It does leave some gaps though. Given that I’ve traveled so much in the far future from this century, a lot of my knowledge is a bit out of date. Can’t exactly talk about the stuff that hasn’t happened here yet. Except with my dad and Bill. They’re time travelers too. My dad’s like, the expert time traveler. They’re called the Doctor. And Bill was their traveling companion before the two of them got stuck here.”

Jenny took a long sip of their tea. It had finally cooled to an appropriate level.

“What sort of flashes do you get?” they asked.

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River was surprisingly alright hearing Jenny’s tales of time travelling. That is until they mentioned Bill and the Doctor. For a moment, her heart skipped a beat. That couldn’t be right… could it? That didn’t fit, it couldn’t fit. Then again, she didn’t know much about either of their backgrounds. She knew they tutored Bill, and that they had a strange friend named Nardole. 

God, when had she become so obsessive about that stupid shop owner? It was unflattering. Beneath her. And yet she was stood like a deer caught in headlights for a moment. In an attempt to cover it, she slowly raised her mug to her lips and took a long sip. 

“I, erm, I don’t know really. Gut instincts on things I like and don’t. I denied them at first, but I found them all to be right. Like enjoying this tea over that or liking waffles more than pancakes. Occasionally I see some things from my childhood, but it feels more like a dream. All confusion and people watching me,” River shrugged a little. They got a bit frightening sometimes, but she wouldn't mention that.

ofmvoonlight​:

“Ah I am sorry about that. I’m Zelda. It’s a pleasure to meet you” the brunette said and smiled softly as they looked at him. He seemed to be a sweetheart and that was a nice change compared to some of the people she had ran into in recent days. People who just assumed that they could stop her just because she worked as a model. It was disheartening, truth be told. 

“And holding onto your arm would be nice. Once again thank you so much for being so kind” hooking their arms around his, Zelda took a deep breath in order to make her spinning head somewhat stable. 

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“Well, its nice to meet you as well,” Sam grinned back at her as they began to walk up the street. He liked them already. In all honesty, he couldn’t fathom the idea of people swarming him in the street like that. What Hobbit would? He would rather stay hidden away indoors forever than have to face that regularly.  “Ah don’t mention it, I’m glad to help.” Not wanting to intrude, but still curious, he asked the most prominent question in his mind, “So you have to deal with things like that often? How do you manage it?”

In order to help maintain her balance, he didn’t walk too fast. It took a bit of concentration as he had always had the nasty habit of stumbling over his own feet. As they approached the café, Sam opened the door to let them in first.

[Img: four sketches of rp characters; Zsasz (Gotham tv show), Hara (an OC dressed as royalty and wearing mourning clothes), Sam (LOTR), and Piter (Dune). Zsasz is staring ahead intently, Hara is sitting regally, Sam is happily holding a plant, and Piter is in front of the other sketches & looking back at the other characters uneasily]

who are these people

(@petitsdieu from indie rp, and @wickedpotions & @bombadills from the @sallowhillshq​ rp group)

(please don’t reblog if your muse isn’t here!)

ofmvoonlight​:

When she took his hand, he gently squeezed it. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself for what happened between the two of them. But he wanted to temporarily let that go and actually appreciate the moment they were sharing. He wanted to be with her and she wanted to be with him. That was the only thing that mattered. Everything else would just have to wait until tomorrow or the day after. To have someone that made you feel so alive was rare. Most loves had a tendency to drain you but not Yennefer. Oh never her. 

Her words caused him to chuckle. Moving closer, he let his free hand cup her cheek. “Now that sounds like a good deal to me” Geralt nodded. “You want the dinner to be over there at Caffi Rhees or at my place? The choice is yours" 

No matter what she would always find a way to bring him down to his knees. She would always so easily break down those walls he had built up. He may have wished for her but he could clearly see that it wasn’t just a wish but a need. He had longed to be with someone who in a way understood him. So yes he may have wished for her but it had been her decision to stay and that was a comfort.

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Geralt was laughing. It had been a long, long time since she had heard that sound. It was nice— familiar. A tiny speck of comfort that it would all be alright in the end. 

Yennefer weighed the options only for a moment; the answer was easy for her. She had little intention of making any of this night a public affair, and the state Geralt was known to leave his bed most of the time was… not at all appealing. “Mine is fine. We can get something on the way. I think that would be easier than trying to piece together a meal from stray items in my cupboards.”

Smiling, she easily pulled him into a kiss. He was always so pliant under her grasp. It was endlessly amusing to the witch. When he was lost enough in it she murmured a soft “And Geralt?” 

Sparing only a moment for him to process and reply, she kissed him again, hand travelling up to his throat. Her grip went from feather light to harsh in mere seconds, nails digging crescents into his flesh. She pulled away from the kiss, meeting his eyes. 

“If you ever do anything like that again, I will rip you apart with my bare hands.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, though there was a slight smirk on her lips, magically still perfectly painted a pale red. She relinquished her grasp on his throat, but kept his hand in hers. “Now, what should we pick up for dinner, dear witcher?”

⌘River & Jenny⌘

to @picturedspells​ 

River liked her job. She did! Teaching felt like the one thing that was right, where everything else felt all jumbled and out of place to the point it made her head hurt. Though today the students were on an assembly schedule, which meant she got plenty of extra time to herself. She was quite happy with that, as she had fallen behind on grading a stack of quizzes from a few days before. 

She had just popped in the break room to grab a bottle of water from the vending machine, when she saw someone she didn’t recognize. For a moment, she thought it was a rogue student, but she quickly caught sight of the visitor’s badge, which is how she figured this woman must be from the group putting the assembly on. 

By that point, River had made eye contact, and it would’ve been rude not to say anything. She wasn't a rude person, at least, she didn’t think so.  With a smile, she nodded at the woman, “Tea? Don’t go for the green packet. It's nasty stuff,” she said, referring to the communal tray of tea on the counter. “Try the blue instead. It's not the best in the world, but it is here.”

⌘Yennefer and Jaskier⌘

@redainianbard

Yennefer was so over this week. With the whole Geralt situation pressing down on her like a lead weight, she was sick and tired of this stupid town, and wanted nothing more than to be able to make her escape. The nature of the town prevented her, and she hated the place for it. 

So she did the only thing she could manage, and kept going through the motions. Work, home, sleep, repeat. In her down time, she would do her best to make herself happy with the little things: watch the television, spend time with Ciri, and occasionally go for a drink when the girl was busy for the evening. 

It was one of those nights, she entered the local pub shortly after she had gotten off of work. A drink would do wonders for her aching heart. She had only been in the place long enough to order herself some sort of fruity concoction when she heard him. Singing filled the place. There was no mistaking who the owner was. She had dealt with it for decades now. Turning on her heel, black skirt flowing out around her knees, she looked round for him. 

Surely enough, he was making his way round the tables. She wanted to hate the display, she wanted to feel annoyed at his appearance, yet the only thing she felt was relief. If nothing else was normal, she could always count on Jaskier to be, well, himself. She met his eyes while he was giving his little performance, and offered a little smile. Yennefer approached him as soon as he finished; smirking, she raised an eyebrow. 

“Bard,” her voice was much less biting than it usually was, almost, nearly, affectionate.

picturedspells​:

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Dorcas did her best to keep her face straight. Sam. Samwise Gamgee. Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings was standing in front of her in a hospital room. This world truly was spectacular. 

“Ah,” she said, coming close and taking a good look at the barbs in his hand. It looked painful, but she appreciated how cheerful Sam was regardless. “Well, I can definitely help you, Sam. Can you tell me about the plant these are from? I don’t recognize it.”

As she spoke, Dorcas withdrew her wand from her pocket, ready to perform an analysis spell. “I’m a witch, from another world,” she said, grinning a little bit. “So I’m going to use this to do an analysis if that’s alright.” Her professional demeanor was fading. Having Sam here was too exciting. “Are you from another world too? Or homegrown in Sallow Hills?” 

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This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten a plant related injury, and it was undoubtedly far from the last. He had been used to things like this since he was a lad, so it barely phased him anymore. The hospital visit was just for safety’s sake, as he didn’t what to make anything worse.

“‘Course I can. Its not from Earth, I don't think. Someone in town, one of my customers, they asked if I could cultivate some for a project they were working on. Its not toxic, just has a nice coat of protection on it.” All true information, he only held back the personal details, as airing out customer information (especially magic-related) was bad for business. 

Sam watched, intrigued by her wand. Earlier in his time in town, magic-users made him nervous, but he had grown much more used to it since. “That's just fine... No, no I’m not homegrown here. I’m from a different place entirely. I’m not even human,” he gave a little laugh at that. “I'm from a placed called Michel Delving in a land called the Shire.”

wickedpotions​:

.·:*¨༺  BILL  ft.  river

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BILL FELT FRUSTRATED .  no , that wasn’t the right word for it .  It was a jumble of emotions that ranged for sorrow to curiosity to frustration at the world to just plain curiosity .  River Song .  Bill knew she’d travelled with the Doctor ( though she didn’t know to what extent ) .  She knew that Nardole had known her from the way he had occasionally stared at her photograph with sorrow and love .  And here she was in front of Bill , yet she held no memory .  Parallel universes existed ( very obvious to Bill now , though Jenny had confirmed it ) .  Was it possible that this was River Song , but some River Song from a different parallel universe than Bill and the Doctor ?  Or was it just the memory loss stuff that apparently happened here .  ( Bill was grateful the only memory loss she seemed to have was how she’d gotten from the hospital room to here . )

   ❝ Maybe you did travel .  If you don’t remember much , who’s to say .  You look like the kinda person who would travel .  It’s in the eyes , you know ?  It’s how I knew the Doctor had travelled and seen a lot - their eyes gave it away . ❞

   She bit her tongue at the idea of Nardole being French .  She suspected that he’d get a kick outta that if he’d heard , and thankfully he wasn’t here to hear it and be insufferable .  ❝ Nah , Nardole is the least French person I know .  He’s like - my weird uncle but in the cool way not in the creepy way .  I was told once when I described him like that that I needed to specify that . ❞

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In the eyes. There was something for that. She had noticed it in the Doctor’s eyes when they had first met (though she couldn’t quite define what ‘it’ was). Maybe Bill had a point. The girl was very perceptive, and seemed to have a knack for piecing things together. Perhaps that's why someone as strangely intriguing as the Doctor had taken her in.

River flashed a smile. “I seem like the well traveled type? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

With a soft laugh, River looked over to her, “Specifying that is decently helpful, I’d think.” A moment later, she had found the perfect rug. If River were being honest, she was about to lose hope of finding one in the stack. Yet this one was a perfect fit. “This will do nicely. What do you think, Bill? Pretty?”

simcnsncwsalisbury​:

   He’s disappointed in her response because he’d really love to know what it is about this place that keeps calling him. Maybe it’s the magick and since a part of him still aches for what once was, this shop’s own power keeps pulling him in. Although, he could consider it a relief that they don’t know each other. That’s one less person he has to apologize to for forgetting them. One less person he has unintentionally hurt. 

   ❝ Okay. Well that’s a good thing, I guess. Thank you. I’m Simon. It’s nice to meet you. ❞ He glances over at the shelf he knocked into and makes his way over to pick up the items he’d accidentally tipped over. It isn’t many of them but Simon takes his time putting each one in it’s place. He doesn’t want to leave just yet. This place feels familiar and Simon wants to keep digging for more clues. 

   He also doesn’t want to leave yet because he’s a bit enthralled by the retailer. Not in a way that he’s being unfaithful to his partner, of course not. Not ever. There’s only one soul in the universe for him- but he’s also not blind. 

   She’s beautiful. Completely beautiful all around but it’s her eyes that captivate him the most. Simon’s never seen someone with one’s like hers. Out of all the creatures and people he’s come across, none of them had had violet eyes. Not that he remembers anyway, and he would have recalled seeing eyes like hers. Simon tries to swallow the question he so badly wanted to ask upon first seeing her, but curiosity gets the best of him this time around. He finishes up with the trinkets and faces her again.

   ❝ Did you make your eyes that color? Are they magickal? ❞

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There was nothing subtle about Yennefer of Vengerberg. A very long time ago, near a century now, she had been the opposite. She used to shrink back into the shadows until she was barely perceptible. Though all of that changed when she gained more confidence in herself (and had a touch of cosmetic work done). There were few people like her on The Continent, and even fewer in Sallow Hills. She always wore a choker with a black obsidian star on it, and her hair was nearly always tumbling down in perfect curls. Her wardrobe was stunning, with every piece suiting her style and body perfectly. Almost everything she wore was black or white, and there was only the occasional pop of colour. Her skill with makeup was equal to that of her skill with clothing, and at this point it was unclear if the precision came from magic or decades of practice. 

In the same way her clothes accentuated her body, her makeup did the same to her face. She supposed that was why people often complimented her eyes-- they popped in contrast to the neutral colours otherwise on her face. She didn’t know that purple eyes didn’t exist on this sphere, for that would have been the true answer to her curiosity. 

“It’s not a problem. Pleasure to meet you Simon. I’m Yennefer.” She was slightly astounded when he turned to fix the items on the shelf. Most people who made a mess never thought to stay and fix it. The mage stared at him as he did, trying to paint herself a picture of the person before her with every detail available. She was about to ask him if there was anything else she could help him with when he spoke first.

Yennefer gave a small laugh at the question. She could respect the blunt nature of his asking. “No, no I was born with them. I’m not sure what genetic factor gave me them, but from my research, they have to do with my father’s bloodline. He was a half-elf. They aren’t magical, either. They work the same yours do. I have been told they’re hypnotic, but I think the man who said it was just trying to get a free favor from me.”