textingandwine-blog
dominated
My name is Ian Adler. I am addicted to most things. A slave to most things. Once I was trapped in an endless void, but those days are over and I'm finally home. Home in London. With two women who hate me. One of those women, I am completely in love with. Her name is Stella Holmes.
((Male!Adler RP blog. Face claim Faris Badwan.))
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He looks down at his hands. "Fuck." Then he stands up, jumps back. "Fuck. I'm not going. It doesn't even hurt." Off he goes, away from her, and into the kitchen. He pulls open cupboards, the fridge, looks under the table. Searching.
The same four walls.
“I want it to get worse. Is she the Doctor’s friend? I think I’ve seen her before.” Then, he looks at her. “Stella, can you do me one favour? Please? Just this one time…”
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That makes him worse. Totally worse. And then he says three words he instantly regrets.
"Lyla said that."
The same four walls.
“I want it to get worse. Is she the Doctor’s friend? I think I’ve seen her before.” Then, he looks at her. “Stella, can you do me one favour? Please? Just this one time…”
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He hugs her. Leans over and hugs her, tightly to him, not daring to let go. Eyes closed, silent. Just holding her, the woman he loved. The woman he waited for. Hugging her, for the first time. The knowledge hits him, and he begins to cry, like he's never cried before. Shaking sobs. Tears spill onto the skin of her neck. He can't help it. "I've waited 700 years just to do this," he says, still clinging to her like a child. Not a good idea. Stella hates things like this. Let go, Ian. Let go.
But he can't seem to.
The same four walls.
“I want it to get worse. Is she the Doctor’s friend? I think I’ve seen her before.” Then, he looks at her. “Stella, can you do me one favour? Please? Just this one time…”
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"I want it to get worse. Is she the Doctor's friend? I think I've seen her before." Then, he looks at her. "Stella, can you do me one favour? Please? Just this one time..."
The same four walls.
He looks at her solidly for a second, assessing the situation. Then he unbuttons his shirt, to reveal a rather deep, rather bloody cut.
“She told me to do it, you see.”
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He squirms. "Not exactly. Not like that. It's hard to explain. Who's River?"
The same four walls.
He looks at her solidly for a second, assessing the situation. Then he unbuttons his shirt, to reveal a rather deep, rather bloody cut.
“She told me to do it, you see.”
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He looks at her solidly for a second, assessing the situation. Then he unbuttons his shirt, to reveal a rather deep, rather bloody cut.
"She told me to do it, you see."
The same four walls.
Stella’s eyes widen slightly at the scratch, and she pulls herself up from the chair, to make her way to the kitchen. “Sit down”, she said, motioning to the other armchair. “I’ll go get you something to help stop the bleeding”.
Only wincing slightly as she moves, she reaches for a clean cloth, and runs it under the warm water. “I told you she was odd, Adler.”
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"Well, she didn't cut me like this. I got a kitchen knife and did it to myself." He swallows, blinks, bites his lip, flicks back some hair. Acts human.
"Stella, I don't think this is just a scratch."
The same four walls.
Stella’s eyes widen slightly at the scratch, and she pulls herself up from the chair, to make her way to the kitchen. “Sit down”, she said, motioning to the other armchair. “I’ll go get you something to help stop the bleeding”.
Only wincing slightly as she moves, she reaches for a clean cloth, and runs it under the warm water. “I told you she was odd, Adler.”
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"She? Oh, Stella." He shakes his head. "No, no. I did this to myself."
The same four walls.
“I’m already in trouble,” he laughs, pulling open his coat to reveal a vivid, dark red stain leaking from his abdomen. “It’s only a scratch, I think. But it’s enough to teach me a lesson.”
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"I'm already in trouble," he laughs, pulling open his coat to reveal a vivid, dark red stain leaking from his abdomen. "It's only a scratch, I think. But it's enough to teach me a lesson."
The same four walls.
*Stella sat in her armchair, looking at the case file for a recent case. Her arm was wrapped a bandage, and she was completely covered in cuts and stitches after last week’s incident, and winced whenever she moved due to the pain*
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Ian's hair seems to be covering his face more than usual. He stays back. Gives her a weak smile. "Did she...?" he breathes, in a tired voice, an almost patronizing voice.
The same four walls.
*Stella sat in her armchair, looking at the case file for a recent case. Her arm was wrapped a bandage, and she was completely covered in cuts and stitches after last week’s incident, and winced whenever she moved due to the pain*
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"What happened?"
A quiet voice drifts over from the door. Shaking. Out of breath.
"The Doctor told me you were hurt. I...I came as soon as I could."
The same four walls.
*Stella sat in her armchair, looking at the case file for a recent case. Her arm was wrapped a bandage, and she was completely covered in cuts and stitches after last week’s incident, and winced whenever she moved due to the pain*
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why does everyone think i'm an idiot i can spell my own name what more do you want from me
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ooc
me: writes elodie's reply
me: presses "reblog post"
me: realizes its gone to ians blog and not elodies
me: BALLSBALLSBALLSBALLSBALLS
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"Do you ever think that maybe Song...I don't know...doesn't exist? All of time and space fitted into my head and not once did I see a River Song. Not once." He takes another sip of coffee, stares her down.
In Fact, We're Almost Strangers
“I’m never going to ‘loose it’, Adler. You’re just making it up- I would remember having a flat mate that wasn’t River, you know..and even now she’s not really a flatmate, she’s more of a ‘when-I-get-tired-of-travelling-I’ll-stay-in-your-spare room-mate”
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He shakes his head, still smiling. It's less of a smile now. Merely skin stretched across bone. "Oh, dear, dear. The famous Stella Holmes can't even remember her own roommate. Maybe you're losing it, Holmes. Ever think of that?"
In Fact, We're Almost Strangers
He looks uncomfortable. “…No. I haven’t.” Don’t give anything away. Poker face, Ian, remember? He smiles. “I wouldn’t worry. How’s Jenny?”
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He looks uncomfortable. "...No. I haven't." Don't give anything away. Poker face, Ian, remember? He smiles. "I wouldn't worry. How's Jenny?"
In Fact, We're Almost Strangers
“Ah, touche.” her smirk softened into a smile. She had almost forgotten what happened last year with Ian-but at the mention of Moriarty her smile dropped.
“She’s..disappeared. It’s as if she’s jumped off the face of the planet…Have you heard anything from her?”
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