red lips

imogen rosmerta marigold 28. neutral. hufflepuff. half-blood. ENFP. HBIC at the three broomsticks.

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

*sobs because of how much i miss you all*

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

pssssst

i’m not sure how many of you still follow this account but i had to try eep

firstly i just want to say i miss you all so much, you guys are the best rp group i’ve ever been part of and i miss annoying all of you in the chat with my various daily woes haha

i am really sorry for disappearing, i’ve just gotten into a big funk in my life and its really affected my writing and just any creative outputs to be honest. i was excited for all the plots i had planned with people, so i’m sorry for disappearing on those... basically i’m sorry for sucking :(( 

i know i missed out on the post about sticking around but i just want you guys to know that as soon as the site reopens i’ll be around to reapply for my bubba imogen!! 

I MISS YOU ALL SO MUCH <333

[ameliascinema]

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

It's obvious she's crazy hung up on Moody, I bet you she's why he dumped Mary.

“Firstly, I don’t fuckin’ need nor want anyone; and secondly, I don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, nor do I care.”

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

I heard Imogen is riddled with STD's, not surprising.

“I don’t fuck with people who don’t fuck with protection.”

[princeinmyownright-blog]

“With such extensive experience then you should know better than to leave a very frustrated customer in need of some drink to calm his annoyance with an empty glass for the past fifteen minutes.”  Severus had come back from a rather infuriating meeting with the Dark Lord, his inexperience and lack of standing thrown back in his face.  Severus knew Bellatrix was murmuring in the Dark Lord’s ear again, putting doubt in his mind about Severus.  Thankfully he had been practicing occlumency to be able to block those parts of his thoughts he didn’t want the Dark Lord or Lestrange to see.  

“Of course I want the drink it’s the whole reason I came to this fucking pub.  No one comes to the pub alone because they want company.”  The words came out almost as a growl, emanating somewhere deep within his throat.  He pushed his empty glass across the counter to Imogen, his expression cold and his eyes distant.  

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

@princeinmyownright·

"I think you'd be surprised, Snape." She responded quickly, "I fuckin' wish everyone came to this pub alone just for a drink. There's a lot of lonely people in this world, and for some reason, a lot of them seem to think that barmaids are there to be their friends." Honestly, as long as you were pleasant enough (though "enough" changed daily, depending on Imogen's mood) she would happily talk to you for a while, her Hufflepuff showing in her ability to talk with anyone.

Huffing dramatically Imogen turned around and refilled Severus' glass. "Now, are you going to tell me what's crawled up and died inside your arse? Or do you really want to be another one of those loner's who sit in silence?" It was rare for Imogen to ask about a man's life unprompted, but she had grown rather fond of the young man in front of her.

[lilium-inter-spenius-blog]

Hidden Tears || Chat

[lilium-inter-spenius-blog]

Vulnerability was not easy to show. Lily was one to keep her darker emotions under check and hidden away from the world. There were too many that needed her, needed her to be strong. She was the shoulder that her friends cried on and she wouldn’t change that for the world. It only meant that sometimes she had to push her fears to the back and bottle them up. 

The only thing about building up pressure in a bottle was that it would eventually explode. Lily quickly wiped away hot tears, brushing them across her pants. A deep breath and she could feel herself gaining control once again.  “Depends what it is?” Lily took the flask regardless. Drinking during training was frowned upon, but what would one sip do. 

“He is always a grumpy old man boss. But no.” Lily rubbed at her eyes, the dark circles quite clear beneath them. “Been having a hard time sleeping lately, makes one a bit more emotional than need be.” Partial truths were not lies. 

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

@lilium-inter-spenius·

She could recognise the hatred of being caught crying immediately. Though Imogen had not been caught crying since her years at Hogwarts, she still knew what it was like to wish to keep such things private. She became torn, knowing that if the women were that much like herself, she would want to be left alone. Her inner feminist stopped this from happening, she had to at least try. One wrong move and Imogen would leave her alone.

Imogen chuckled, "It's just a little bit of firewhiskey." She knew that unlike her, most people didn't drink continuously during their days at work. "I won't tell, I promise." The girl certainly looked like she needed a drink, but perhaps Imogen's solution of alcohol wasn't for everyone. Either way, she wanted to offer up her own technique of fighting away tears.

Once again she chuckled, imagining Alastor telling of his young auror's from behind his desk in his office. She knew of his work, of course, but it was always hard for Imogen to picture him there. Mostly because more often than not their hours spent together involved alcohol and crude jokes, and she had a hunch that he didn't carry himself in such a way at work. "Oh hush," She only realised afterwards that 'hushing' the woman may have seemed a little rude, but she hoped the lightheartedness carried into her words, "There is nothing wrong with being emotional. I mean, as women once a month we're bound to cry over the fact that we forgot to visit Honeydukes before they closed for the evening. Being emotional is something men decided that women are simply because we feel things more than them. I mean, I suppose it's not always their fault that they're born below the likes of us..." She smiled, "When emotions demand to be heard there's not much we can do about it, just have to find a way to use them to our advantage." Well, you could always drown them out with alcohol and drugs, but Imogen wasn't one to follow her own advice.

[queenofthecrabbes]

“ were you with him/her? ”

Sera looked up at the angry blonde behind the bar, scowling at the impertinent question. Bella had just left her with a burning kiss to go off to do the Dark Lord’s bidding and Sera had walked up for another drink. “You mean Bellatrix Black Lestrange? Why yes, I was with her. What does it matter to you?” She sneered prettily at the older woman and tapped her red nails on the bars waiting for her drink. 

[queenofthecrabbes]

Seraphina had never really paid much attention to the barkeep at the three broomsticks. She never paid much attention to the help at all really. But now that she was speaking to her, Sera had to admit that she was pretty even though Sera was very against all blondes, except her best friend Cissa of course. Her smirk turned into a sneer at the other woman daring to look down on her. “No, actually, I’m the Selwyn heir so its mine. And I am actually intelligent enough to handle more money then the two sickles a drink costs.” Sera could see she was irritating the blonde and that thought cheered her up slightly, it was always fun to mess with someone. And the vain little girl that she still was wanted to be sure that this woman knew, regardless of whatever she had with Bellatrix in the past, Seraphina was the favorite now. She took the drink of the bar and took a sip, eyes flashing again at the delightful idea that someone was jealous of her. 

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

@queenofthecrabbes·

This wasn't going as Imogen intended, but things never usually did. More than most of the blonde's decisions and words were an act of impulse, she knew that she shouldn't have said anything to the woman. That her jealously over Bellatrix was needless and petty, but she'd never been able to stop her impulses. She hadn't expected the younger woman to respond, and this only meant that Imogen reached for more venom in her words. "You're the heir?" She laughed, "No son's for your parents then? Oh, how they must have been disappointed." She clucked her tongue, "Such a shame that Selwyn's will die out with you, I'm sure your parents would have hoped for someone who might actually achieve something." She chuckled once more, "If you didn't have such a cheap taste in alcohol you would know I deal with much more money than that, Darlin'. Besides, who do you think runs this place?" She wasn't exactly going to tell Seraphina that the tavern wasn't technically hers till her grandparents passed.

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

💧

After only two rounds of drinks and one sad attempt at being hit on, Imogen had lost Mary. The elder blonde had slipped away to powder her nose and returned to their table to find it empty. The powder had almost peaked when she found her younger friend stood alone outside. “Mary! There you are!” Her voice called louder than it should have, but it slipped away from her when she noticed the tears falling down Mary’s cheeks. “…Mary?”

[marymacdoncld]

Imogen left her alone for too long. Not that Mary needed a babysitter – though Merlin knew she could use one, with all the shit she’d gotten into lately – but without a familiar and comforting presence in the bar, Mary suddenly felt the looming paranoia, panic beat her pulse faster. Eyes scanned the place, looking for that blonde. And yet – no one. And somehow everyone. So many people, and she didn’t know who any of them were, and they all stared back at her, dark eyes, eyes that warned a threat because everything, everywhere had become a constant threat.

Throat tightened and overwhelming she lost her breath, shoved through the crowd as her chest heaved to bring oxygen into her lungs. Outside, outside, she needed to get out – and she shoved open the door and burst into the chilled air, gasping an inhale.

She was smoking a cigarette and shoving hot tears of her face when she heard her name called. “Shit, shit –” she muttered, wiping at her face quickly. “Hey, sorry. I couldn’t find you and I needed a smoke and I just –” She forced a smile, blinking to hide the wetness in her eyes. “Where’d you go?”

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

One of the things that had brought Imogen and Mary close together was that they both spent nights searching for an escape. Though, neither knew just how far the other would go to find this, but they gravitated towards each other for nights of bright lights and bad decisions. It wasn't rare for Imogen to disappear at some point during the night, the alcohol in her system making the need to drag her latest victim sexual partner more urgent than the need to say goodbye to her friend. But tonight the pickings were slim.

Immediately Imogen recognised the symptoms of hiding tears, and she shifted her stance to cross her arms, showing that wasn’t easily fooled. All the same Imogen’s tone would remain cautious, hoping to show her friend that though she would ask, she would back down if pushed away. She knew what it was like to prefer to keep things hidden. “I went to the bathroom.” Well, this wasn’t entirely false, but she kept the details of what exactly it was she did in there quiet. “Are you okay?” Her words were rushed, but that was mostly because of the drugs kicking in, “You don’t have to be, you know.”

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

barlights | changing seasons prompt | imogen & emmeline

[ems-vance-deactivated20181031]

Emmeline had signed up to be part of the Order to protect her friends. While she was terrified of anyone finding anything out in regards to her loyalties, Emmeline knew that she couldn’t just let Lily and the rest of her friends die. Not if she could have done something to prevent it. What she had not signed up for was being used as a double agent. Sent to spy on the people closest to her because there was suspicion that they may or may not be associated with the Death Eaters.

Instead of actually speaking up and saying that she was against this course of action, Emmeline had kept her head down and silently went along with whatever they had wanted. Many others had stood up and voiced their outrage and disapproval for the plan but since none of the three that had been taxed with infiltrating the Death Eater ranks by using their blood status, their pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

The rest of the meeting passed much in a blur and before she knew it everyone was filing out of the building in groups of pairs or larger until she was nearly the last person in the room. Pulling her cloak on over her shoulders she walked out into the rain alone trying to figure out what she was going to do. She’d heard a few people murmur about heading to a nearby pub for some drinks and hushed conversation about the goings on of their meetings and Emmeline had smiled and told them she’d see them there before heading in the opposite direction. She just needed to think, needed to figure out if she really could report on her friends like that. She had no evidence, no inclination that her friends had anything to do with the Death Eaters- so could she possibly believe that they held that kind of malice in their hearts?

Before she realised just where she’d been walking to, Emmeline had found herself at the very pub she had said she’d meet her friends at. Thankfully they’d all gone for the night and Emmeline was mostly alone. She blinked at the bartender before giving her a small smile.

“You could say that.” She responded as her eyes scanned the bar for whatever she was going to drink that night. “Could I get some firewhiskey?” She said her eyes falling on the bottle that seemed the most full from where she was standing.

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

While Imogen (and her grandmother) were known for knowing everything, the woman across from her was harder to read than most. She knew of her family, her grandmother had pointed them out one Sunday evening when the girl across from her was no higher than the bar that sat between them. She knew that she came from a pureblood family and that the Vance's preferred to keep things pure. This had caused Imogen to unfairly (though often correctly) place her mentally amongst the pureblood elitists... That was until she appeared in her pub with her face more mature, but still young, as she started visiting Hogsmeade with her fellow students.

At first, Imogen noticed that she spent her time with other pureblooded children, and this didn't surprise her; but then she started sharing tables with students that Imogen knew came from muggleborn families - usually her kind kept to themselves. As the years went past the girl seemed to spend less and less time with those of pureblood lineage, and more with the kind, those turned their nose up at.

And so when the war began, and Imogen started mentally keeping track of who seemed to be on which side (something she did try and stop herself from doing - but she could never help herself) the young woman was a bit of a mystery. Of course, she never lingered long on such thoughts, and it only went to show that you could never know in times like these.

However, the barmaid had long since decided that as long as they didn't wrong her personally she would continue to serve whoever walked into her pub, no matter how many rumours swirled in the air around them. Besides, with the girls face seeming to match those of the Order members she recognised throughout the night... She was starting to assume she was one of them.

"Of course darlin'," She said with a smile before turning around and reaching for one of their more aged whiskey's, but she charged her for their cheapest when she turned back around with the drink. Imogen did her best to make it seem like she didn't care about anyone but herself, but women were her weakness, she always wanted to make sure they were okay. "Now, who is he? And how should we make him pay?" She continued to smile warmly as she poured her own glass of firewhiskey.

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

in the dark | imogen & alastor

[moodilyalastor-blog]

He snorted at her response and bad puns.  Appreciated them too, of course. But didn’t dignify them with a response. He liked that Imogen was not the sort to shy away from the crude. She’d make a dirty joke and laugh along with his.  It was better than having to think up classier humour. 

A scratch on the door cut her laughter off. Her head shot towards the sound, and her hands went around his arm in a squeeze that was almost painful.  He quickly figured out what it was, but it took her a moment to catch up. He didn’t like seeing the fear on her face. It brought back the crushing reality that they were in the middle of a war, and everyone was a target. Everyone was scared. He hoped that no one would dare go after Imogen, but he couldn’t deny that the Three Broomsticks was a good target. It was an institution in Hogsmeade, and a meeting place for everyone. It was why he had set up extra wards around it. And had patrols in Hogsmeade in general, and checking on the pub in particular.

Shaking his sleeve, he gave her a wry look as she sheepishly got to her feet. “That was a waste of good firewhiskey and a (mostly) clean shirt,” he remarked. 

As his large black shepherd raced in the door and went straight for his lap, he looked pointedly at Imogen. “She clearly prefers you,” he said, allowing the dog to get her front paws in his lap. Both hands cupped the dog’s face, scratching lovingly as she whined and tried to get closer. She had followed him home one day, despite the fact that she was limping and clearly exhausted. He couldn’t do anything else other than take her in, heal her up, train her a bit. But an Auror’s life left little room for anyone else, even a dog. And Moody was nothing if not responsible. So, when Imogen had said she was thinking of getting another dog, Moody had been presented with the perfect solution. 

He was glad that Angela had taken to Imogen and her old dog Lady so happily. But she was a smart dog. She clearly knew when she had a good thing going. 

Moody rolled his eyes at Imogen. "Oh ye of little faith,” he said easily.  As if any dog of his would escape without getting trained a little bit. Angela was friendly enough, but he had seen her with people she didn’t know or like.  He had no doubt that if it came down to it, both she and Lady would protect Imogen. It was in their nature. 

He just hoped it would never come down to it. 

Distracted by trying to keep Lady from drooling all over his pants as she gave him her greetings, Moody responded without much thought to Imogen’s comment about getting a tattoo. “Why didn’t you? You and Mary could have gone together.” 

He realized what he had said about a second after the words had left his lips, but he didn’t let on the jolt of panic he felt at what his words might have revealed. And it was Imogen, so of course she would jump to the dirtiest conclusion first.  

As he indicated with a finger that Angela should lay down, he reached innocuously for his glass and took another sip, hoping that Imogen was too tired to notice what he had said, or the implications of it, and starting to think up excuses for when she did. 

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

She'd done her best to avoid Alastor's eyes too soon after knocking his drink over as part of her reaction to the scratching at the door. She never liked to admit that she was afraid, but she knew perfectly well that her tavern would make a perfect target to send a message to the wizarding community. The tavern was famous around the world, and was known to be part of Hogsmeade since its earliest days, they constantly had witches and wizards from all over stopping in. She'd been determined to carry on with business as usual, but she couldn't stop herself from jumping whenever she heard a strange noise after hours. "You know that I'm sorry about the whiskey, but I think I did you a favour with that shirt." Hoping to brush over the incident, she kept her voice light as she spoke.

Her gaze fell to the dogs as she sat back down after replacing Alastor's spilt whiskey. "Only because I feed her everything, I'm sure she was on a strict regime when she lived with you." She could never say no to her dogs, all they had to do was bow their heads and look up at her with their large round eyes.

She had had Lady for almost eighteen years, her grandfather had bought her the large mastiff when Imogen first moved into The Three Broomsticks. He could see the fear that riddled his granddaughter, and hoped the presence of a guard dog would help her feel safer as she transitioned into her new life. While she had never acknowledged it, Lady had done exactly that, but Imogen cared about her more than just her protection. Besides, in the dogs old age she wasn't able to do much anymore, but she loved her all the same.

Angela was much younger than Lady, but she had been older than Lady when she started to call the tavern her home. Imogen had just decided that she wanted to get another dog when Alastor asked her if she would look after her. She knew the story, she knew that Angela had followed Alastor home and he'd tended to her wounds and let her stay with him. She had been more than happy to give Angela a new home. She had seen how much Alastor cared about her, and while she had acted as though it was simply the easiness which was her main agenda for taking the dog - really she wanted to help Alastor, knowing if he could he would still call Angela his (though Imogen still likes to think of it that way, sometimes).

She was a good dog, and thanks to Alastor's training she filled Lady's shoes as tavern guard dog excellently - even if Imogen let the dogs into her room to sleep most of the time, and the long since soundproofed room meant the guard dogs were kept from hearing possible intruders anyway. "I don't doubt it really. You should see how she reacts to the men who stay over." Imogen liked to pretend that Angela hated men just as much as she did, but really she assumed that the dog picked up on her distaste for them once they'd served their purpose.

It almost, almost slipped past Imogen's ears unnoticed, but as the blonde's thoughts momentarily flashed onto the evening where Imogen had managed to convince a drunken Mary to show her the shamrock she had tattooed on her bottom - it clicked.

Her eyes widened, and she sat up so quickly that Lady made a grunt of annoyance as her head was pushed off of her lap. "Wait... " Her wide eyes soon disappeared into slits, "How do you know that Mary has one there." Her mind was whirling away connecting the dots, and her dirty mind was quick to make assumptions. "What did you do?" She pointed a finger at him accusingly. "Alastor Moody, what did you do?!"

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

Imogen Rosmerta - Setting

The Three Broomsticks is allegedly as old as Hogsmeade itself; popular rumour suggested that the village founder, Hengist of Woodcraft, lived there during the medieval times. For centuries the tavern has been passed down from father to son, mother to daughter (though there are whispers of one particularly unlucky ‘father’, who had trouble with gambling) and kept it’s legacy alive with each being trained carefully to meet the historical taverns needs.

The Tavern itself is often warm, crowded, and a bit smoky, but clean and welcoming. A mirror behind the bar reflects the cosy atmosphere, as well as the crackling fireplace during the winter months. It carries a wide variety of home-brewed alcohol such as Butterbeer and Firewhiskey, though it is said there isn’t a drink you can’t request (even if it will make the curvy bartender roll her eyes at you).

The ‘madam in waiting’ herself occupies the tavern’s attic that once was belonged to her mother, but many changes have been made since then. After wishing to have more independence, walls have been placed within the large room to section off a small bathroom. Most of this bathroom is taken up by a large white bathtub with golden claws, with’s its remaining space dedicated mostly to the barmaid’s rosewood vanity mirror. It is old and ornate, and one of the few pieces of furniture kept because of it’s previous owner, her mother. It’s surface is covered with red lipsticks and black kohl’s strewn unceremoniously after her (usually rushed) morning routine.

A kitchen area has also been marked off, but not with walls. Instead counter tops have been placed in an ‘L’ shape in the corner of the room. This was placed by the woman’s grandfather, in hopes that she would finally learn to cook for herself, but this was a decision made in vain. It is used for nothing more than preparing coffee and cutting up lines of whatever illicit powder she feels like intoxicating herself with.

At the front of the room there is a large rounded window that looks down on the streets below; placed just high enough that as the blonde spends hours lying next to it gazing down at the passerby’s, nobody may notice her. Leaving just enough room for her afternoons of drunken people watching, her bed pushed against the wall with it’s head also facing the window. The bed is another piece of furniture that use to belong to her mother. It has four posters, and at the head of the bed they are squeezed in next to one of the large pillars that comes up through the floor (see bottom left image, this is the most accurate).

This leaves just enough room to comfortable fit a coffee table (which is really just a large chest) often covered in magazines and tobacco, an overstuffed red sofa which has darkened over the years, and a large rosewood wardrobe (to match the vanity) which also use to belong to her mother.

The room is rarely clean, with the barmaid wishing for her own house and finding it hard to locate motivation within herself to clean a room she doesn’t much care for. But it is home.

[x]

[riddlesregime-ops]

Put a question in my ask and I’ll write an IC monologue/drabble of my muse’s past

rpmememaker:

Question examples to start you off:

What’s it like to kill a man?

Who happened to you?

How did you get those scars?

Why are you afraid?

What is family to you?

What is wrong with you?

[marqotrbbie-blog]

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

I heard from a friend that Imogen was born with two pinky fingers on her right hand.

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

I heard imogen used to be a contortionist for the circus but they kicked her out because she kept distracting the audience from the tigers.

"Well I am pretty flexible."

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

I heard Imogen is actually a part-veela and a hermaphrodite. That's why she seduces everyone so successfully.

"Fuck, you've figured it out."