xwarlord-blog

[xwarlord-blog]

;;friendly reminder that you can find me here if I’m not on this account. 

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Bo grit her teeth in response. Oh she was a real spunk, this one.

"I'll tell yer what's not flattering love, my knife in your chest, now keep talking to me like that dalrin' & you'll find out just  what I mean." 

“Stupid name.” She was grumbling the comment to herself under her breath, eyes rolling just a bit before her hands were sliding protectively over her stomach of their own accord. Until she remembered what she was here to do however, and quickly let them fall off to the side. “Lead the way, old Bo… You know, you might want to rethink that title. Not exactly a flattering one is it?”

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She scrutinises him as if he's part of a flock of sheep. "Can yer hold a sword Deeter?"  

"Dieter…" He replied making no indication of getting up and leaving.

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"Your debts? Ha, Don't make me laugh.                           I don't owe you nothing." 

Rumple stared at Bo, and smirked. “Well, dearie. You know I have to collect my debts now, don’t you?”

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magicxcomesxwithxaxprice

                      "Well, well, Rumpelstiltskin."

             She huffs, glancing down at the dark one.                              Perhaps she should be afraid,                                 but she certainly isn't.                           Bo is far too confident in her abilities for that. 

                                "What brings ya to my neck of the woods?" 

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"Yer should.this is my land yer standing on sonny.What's yer name then?"

D looked up from where he’d been sitting cross legged on the ground.

"I..haven’t…I’m sorry, do I know you miss?"

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that-familiar-satisfaction

She's eyeing up the stranger approvingly. "—Just where 'ave you been hiding, lambkins?"

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                  “I know you.” She stared down at the boy, eyes narrowed as she slammed the butchers knife down along a slab of lamb ribs. “Your grandaddy & I go way back.           I ‘eard he’s some big hero these days.”

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“It’s called the chop shop, can’t you read? It’s a good business, can’t complain. But that’s not ‘ow I make me money is it?” She grinned, eyes settling on the woman’s belly. “Yeah, let’s go somewhere cosy & talk about this. Come on, you come with ol’ Bo.”

“I never said anything about a fight.” One nicely aimed shot to the head wouldn’t leave much room for other sorts of combat. Especially once your opponent was dead. With a sigh and a purse of her lips River was wrapping her arms tighter around herself, nodding in agreement. “But fine. That sort of talking I can tolerate. Are we staying here? I don’t particularly want to spend the rest of my afternoon in a meat shack.”

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                           She clicked her tongue at that,                                             "Didn't teach ya it ain't wise                                                to pick a fight with a woman holdin' a knife,                                                     now did she?"                 Bo glanced up,            slowly at first,                   seething on the inside.                                              "Now. We're gonna sit ourselves down                                                 & talk about how much your little tyke is worth, aye?"

The woman’s words combined that ever present chopping was doing wonders to get underneath her skin. With a glare, River was turning sharply, quite purposely swinging the mop full of sick back through the doorway and letting it splatter across the clean floor. “A cry? No. A future version of myself came for a visit and she disintegrated him in the bathtub.”

With a huff and a deliberate march to the counter, she was folding her arms the best she could across her chest.  “And she taught me well. So shut up before I kill you too. Having a chat isn’t part of the deal.”

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doublethemystery:   Clara ducked her head down,  avoiding any stares she received from the soldiers as they laughed.  While she wanted work, and this    woman was her best bet at        finding it, she didn’t dare           stay near the men.            Not while avoiding                a certain king.                                 I need is finding a place                                 to stay and work at, ma’am.                                 I’ll pay you however I can                                 if you grant me that one                                 kindness.” took a few steps back, distancing herself from the men, but stayed close to follow them when they began moving.                                  she wondered if being                                  her father’s bride would                                  be such a horrid fate.                                  No. She needed to keep                                  running.                                                     to earn my keep, ma’am.”                               “The only help The runaway princess                                  Not for the first time                                                     “I’ll do anything I can

                                                    "Anything? Well aren't ya lucky,                                           I've got plenty of work for a girl like you."                                                      She glances down at the other woman,                                      like a mother hen would her hatchlings,                                                                     except, there's something,                                                                                         sinister about it.                                                 

                                     As if waiting for the right opportunity                                                            to exploit her.                                 An act & nothing more.                                            "You come with Ol' Bo,                                                           that's a girl.                                     It ain't wise to be wandering                                                    these parts all on your own." 

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  Bo scoffs at the reply,  giving her disappointed soldiers a grin before she  nods at Clara, her crook    swaying towards her        with the gesture.           She clicked            her tongue.

                              " Suit yaself then.                                 But these boys would helped you,                                 from  the  kindness  of  their 'arts.                                 Course, not without some payment,                                 but that's the way of the world aye?"

She paused expectantly & sure enough the men behind Clara burst into laughter, as if on cue.                                  With that, the Warlord turned on her heel,                                  stepping back into her glided carriage &                                  seating herself down. The crook rested                                  on the seat besides her, as if it were a                                  person too.

                                                    "Onward & upwards I always say." 

   Clara doesn’t dare look at the guards when Bo makes her suggestion.     She merely clutches her belongings close to herself,     moving to stand beside the carriage, but keeping a safe distance.    While no longer walking along would be ideal,    a little further on her feet wouldn’t kill her.               “I never expected to ride in the carriage, ma’am.                             I’d rather rest when                we reach your home. Walking a bit longer                             is of no concern to me.”     Once she’s finally spoken, she backs up further,    stepping behind the carriage. She was royalty, once.    She knew servants and other workers stayed in the back.

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                                                             "So you killed the little tyke's daddy aye?"

Her eyes glimmered with interest now, the butcher's knife slamming down against another pair of ribs. She liked her work, kept her mind fresh, reminded her that so easily could the tables turn & leave them all as lambs to the slaughter.

But not her. Not Bo Peep. She was a shepherd.                 "Then what?                         Did you have a little cry?                                 Try & think about how to get rid of all the evidence."                                   A Malicious grin settled on her features,                                   another chop of the knife following, "Then you find out                you've had yaself a little  a c c i d e n t."

  River took the mop, sighing in defeat as she turned to look at the contents of her stomach strewn about the floor. Clean up your mess. That was a lot easier said than done, and she was going to need more than just a mop to do it. But at least she had someone now that was agreeing to take it, and with a shake of her head she slowly started cleaning, glancing back over at the butcher with a blank sort of look. “It isn’t that interesting really. You know. Girl meets boy. Girl shag boys, girl kills boy, girl is left pregnant and alone. Pretty basic stuff I’d imagine.”

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The look Bo gives the woman, as if she's some filthy, festering vermin that's crawled out of the sewers and landed in her path. It's the exact sort of glance the townsfolk are partial to giving her.

                                 "Yeah, I'll take the little tyke of yer hands."

She crossed the floor easily, taking a ragged mop off of the stand and holding out to the blonde,  

                                     "Mind yer clean up the mess first."

A pause followed, scrutinizing every inch of her before her face softened quiet suddenly,

                                   "Why don't you tell ol' Bo your tale then? 

  One hand clasped over her mouth and she was bolting for the door, barely making it through before the bile that had been rising in her throat became far too much to bear and she was clutching to the door frame, hunched forward,  letting loose all that she had been holding back. By the time she was able to right herself and wipe the back of her and across her mouth with a chocked sob, she was feeling worse than she had been before, legs trembling slightly as she took a step away from the mess. “I wouldn’t be that lucky.” Her hand rested over her stomach, face grim, wishing that it could just be as easy as falling on the floor. “D-Do you want it or not?”

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         Well, for his sake he’d better turn out to be          the mayor of some prosperous little town,          because his clumsiness puts him at a disadvantage.          Might as well put this lame sheep out of it’s misery                  —so to speak.                  ”Professional trespasser.                  Right, so you're here to steal from me is it?”          She steps out of the pergola carefully, nodding at          her guards to start closing in on this little s h e e p.          Only the words confuse her and she hangs back          uncertain whether to kill or brand.                  ”The enchanted forest.                         Mist Haven, call it what ya like.”          As for the century? Considering this Warlord is          illiterate, she wisely chooses not to answer.

       He isn’t quite sure where he’s ended up, if he’s         honest. The TARDIS was in a mood and he had         simply been wandering around the area where she         had landed. It looked like a garden of some sort,         which made him worry that it was going to be a spe—         tacularly boring day.                         that was, until he found himself himself                      being hollered at just as he tripped over                      a hedge. "—What? No. No trouble at all." He’s wringing              his hands now, looking about, trying to              discern if this woman is anyone important.              At her question, however, he grinned and              clapped once, his whole demeanor changing              at once.                        ”No deals today. No, no today is strictly deal-free.                        I am, however, a professional trespasser. I do it                         quite frequently I’m afraid. Hello, I’m the Doctor.                        Professional trespasser. Usually told to get off the                        planet. What planet is this, exactly? —What century?                        You are—?” 

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peach, orange, plum, strawberry //omg is it too late to send these? XD *still safeguarding your melon btw*

peach - what i like most about your blog

{ the perfection of it. Ugh. I love so many things about your blog dear, I love how you always keep the stars even when you change themes, I love how it's all organised nicely and tagged and I love love love your replies. Even the ones for other people, I read everything of yours tbh and your characterisation is spot on, everything I read of yours always sounds like something he'd say. E V E R Y T H I N G But, if I had to pick something, just one stand out? You make him a real arsehole sometimes and that's good because you understand he can be one and you don't make excuses and you recognise "oh he's being a bit of a dick today" xD but you don't compromise on his character. That right there, is what I love about your blog.

orange - my opinion of you now and our status

{ omg. Jess. JeSS!! I'm gonna be very honest here when you first followed me on Riv it was like "day all new eleventh doctor's decide to follow Lyn" so I didn't think much. But then, T H E N you reblogged the thing and I read the thing and I think part of me wanted to sit there and reread that perfection repeatedly and the other part wanted to break down and sob because how does one reply to something so good? Long story short, my adoration for you only grew and then I got to know the brilliant mun behind the Doctah and I look forward to all your messages and replies and just knowing you is an honour and a joy and you make my day 12346% better and you're really wonderful ok? *clings* friends forever, like, to infinity and beyond xD }

plum - a song that reminds me of you / your blog

Omg. I have to think of just o n e ? But your Doctor is like a mix of everything??? I literally can't pick just one omg.

strawberry - i secretly think… 

{..... That you are NOT!!! A potato. You're a strong independent Jess who don't need no starch. Shhh it's like 10pm I've lost all cohesive thought. }