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Ivisbo member of RPG for 10 years

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165,114 words written.
232 total posts.
712 words per post.
5 posts per roleplay.
57 average days in a roleplay.
43 universes joined.
13.50 INK received in tips.

Basic Information

Began Role Playing:
0- 0-2010
Game Master:

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Fri May 17, 2013 11:44 pm
Last visited:
Mon Jan 17, 2022 2:18 pm
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Z. A.
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Wrote over 80,000 total words!



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5.00 INK received for post #2817472, located in Widow's Peak:



"If I know only one thing,
it's that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable
often I barely can speak
Yeah I'm tongue-tied and dizzy
and I can't keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues,
why should I wait for anyone else?"

Cassidy was always good at telling when something was wrong. When he was a kid and his parents had kept medical information secret, he’d always been able to tell that they were carrying something extra heavy that day. Maybe it was because he’d learned to read doctors postures when they brought in bad news, read the reactions of his parents before he knew how to speak ‘medical’, read his friends at the hospital when they were having bad days, but Cass always had a sense of how others were feeling.

Atlas was an anomaly for him, had been from the very beginning. Other than his perfect face, it was what had drawn Cassidy to him initially. This stoic, clean and kept, nearly robotic doctor, with his perfectly pressed shirts and hidden gauged ears was something he’d immediately needed to understand.

So Cass could tell Atlas was off and not in his normal ‘I’m coldhearted leave me alone” sort of way. He was thinking too much, his eyes deep-set and equally relieved and worried at the same time. When he snorted and rolled his eyes at him, Cass was relieved to see some other emotion leak out.

Cassidy fell in step next to the taller man, keeping his eyes forward to avoid watching Atlas’s stress. Is that what you want? Just friends, was a fair question that he really didn’t have a safe answer to. They’d always tip-toed around the subject, leaving their relationship stuck somewhere between doctor-patient and something more. But now… with how he felt now, why couldn’t they be something more?

Cass glanced sideways at Atlas, aware of the awkward silence they’d fallen into but also aware of the other Very Important topic his brain had been skirting around.

He wasn’t sick anymore. As amazing and miracle-like as that was, why wasn’t he sick anymore was a better question. Cass knew something had happened at the hospital. He’d been sick, so sick he’d been ready to die… and now he was here. That train of thought made his stomach feel nauseous and his brain ache with anxiety, so much so that he stuck his hands in his pockets to hide their tremors. Whatever it was, he preferred the awkward tension of Atlas’s presence next to him then the turmoil of why echoing through his head.

Suddenly the street was filled with the sounds of sirens, the town's small squad of ambulances, police cars, and firetrucks speeding past them in the direction of the main part of town. Cass watched them go with wide eyes, that anxious apprehension redirecting itself.

“That can’t be good…”, He mumbled and glanced over at Atlas, “We should probably steer clear right? I don’t want to get in their way if someone is hurt”

Cass was avoiding the question, and Atlas understood why. Like everything else in Cass’ life, their relationship had been left in limbo - something more that couldn’t be. But now? In whatever world his broken mind had transported him to? Why not.

The other boy stuck his hands in his pockets, a wave of anxiety accompanying him, and Atlas wondered momentarily if his own realization that this couldn’t be real made his hallucination jittery. If Atlas thought about it too much, would Cass disappear? Was Cass aware that he would disappear? He was really becoming one for the mental health textbooks.

The sirens nearly scared Atlas out of his own damn skin, he’d been so lost in his thoughts that he felt his heart jackhammer against his chest. He’d been good at trauma, once upon a time, and some part of him ached to run to the scene. His instincts reminded him of flying around corners, hands on a gurney, arguing with other interns about which case was his. High on adrenaline and perhaps a bit of a god complex.

He hesitated, his body saying ’go’, but his mind saying no. He wasn’t a doctor anymore. His credentials had been left behind, all his plans evaporating to the sound of Cassidy’s heart monitor stopping.

“Right,” he said, and his voice sounded dry. “What do you want to do, then? Anything you can think of.” He didn’t know how long Cass would last. If he only had a day to give him the world, then he’d make it enough.

“Tea?”, Cassidy’s voice was a bit of a squeak, the single word bursting out of him like he’d been barely restraining it. Really there weren’t many things Cass held dear as much as a warm cup of leaf juice. In the hospital, it had felt like one of the few completely normal things he could do- sit by a large window holding a cup of shitty cafeteria green tea while the world continued on beyond the glass. Atlas had joined him a few times on lunch breaks- it was a routine he could hold on to, something they could continue from before.

“Not really sure where we are”, Cassidy glanced around, his mind skirting around how he’d even gotten to this part of town in the first place, “Maybe you know a place?”

Tea. Of course. Give the boy the ability to drink alcohol or go skydiving and it's tea he asks for. Atlas thinks about the half-full mugs skittered around his living room floor and it's almost funny. Almost.

If Atlas was feeling like himself he would have dissected Cass’ words. Asked questions, prodded for information, figured out how. But maybe he didn't want to know. Maybe he didn't want to prod so much that it would cause Cass to disappear just as suddenly as he'd appeared.

“Yeah,” Atlas replied, and turned his back on the mess of sirens and drama headed into town. “This way. There's a little bistro a couple of blocks over.”


It hadn’t been too cold, but the welcome warmth of the small restaurant loosened the tense uncomfortable muscles along Cass’s spine. He hadn’t realized he’d felt rigid and sore till he sunk into the comfortable booth next to the window, his herbal tea order still brewing behind the counter. Atlas had opted for black, of course, his tea order just as stoic as his uncomfortable posture across the table.

Cassidy fiddled with his sweater sleeves, pulled over his thumbs out of nervous habit and glanced between the sidewalk outside and Atlas’s pinched face, “Soooo…. you’re- uhm- taking the day off? It’s your weekend or something? I always thought you just kinda lived at the hospital”.

Atlas stopped breathing. He wasn't sure he had been breathing right since they'd first entered, because the barista had looked right at Cass’ bright ass smile and asked him very directly what she could get for him. A stranger. Someone who had no reason to share Atlas’ mental breakdown. Mass hallucinations didn't work that way. Which meant ...


He had seen Cass die. He'd been there. Pumping his chest and trying with everything in him to start his chest again. He'd felt the lifelessness of his body. Heard the long scream of a machine warning them they'd lost him. Seen the looks in his colleagues eyes. Heard Cass’ mothers cries follow him out the building.

And yet ... “Cassidy!” A voice called, and Atlas pushed himself away from the table to fetch Cass’ tea from the counter. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to answer. The mug was a typical one, but the little pumpkin sticker on it spelled Cass’ name out plain as day. Real.

The barista put another drink on the counter but hesitated before she called out the name. He wanted to ask her if she really saw him. Just to make sure he hadn't somehow split his mind and created a multiple personality issue - taken Cass’ identity on as his own, and she was just humoring his crazy ass. She seemed to take his mental breakdown as nervousness though, because her eyes flickered over his shoulder and she said tenderly, “He seems very sweet.”

“Fuck,” Atlas muttered, and left her with no explanation as he went back to the table and sat Cass’ mug in front of him. “I quit,” he said, a little too harshly, a little too I'm-losing-my-mind. “You aren't there anymore.”

Cass stared at the tea, then at Atlas again while he tried to sort out what he’d meant. He quit? Are doctors even allowed to quit? Atlas hadn’t finished med school entirely, so he guessed it was possible to choose a different path….but Atlas quit because Cass wasn’t there anymore?

“That….uhm...I’m not really following you”, Cass picked at his cup, ripping at the sticker while he continued to stare with wide eyes at the clearly unraveled man across the table, “I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m not at the hospital cause….”, He frowned, snakelike pain coiling around his forehead, telling him that train of thought was only going to bring on more discomfort, “Cause I’m better?” He tried, his voice hitting a note that clearly conveyed his complete confusion.

Atlas didn't want to do this. Like a child who threw a tantrum rather than leave the park because they were having too much fun. He wanted to go back, to enjoy whatever time with Cass he had, to not shatter it with the truth. He wanted to turn back the clock to a world where Cass wasn't dead. Whatever was going on though, whatever this was, it was fucking with Cass too.

“Because you're dead, Cass.”

3.50 INK received for post #2816241, located in Widow's Peak:

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes,
unique in each way you can see.
And now after some thinking, I'd say I'd rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery
serving something beyond me.

He really had no idea how long he’d been sitting in this one spot, staring at the wall across from him.

Vines were growing up the brickwork, interlacing themselves amongst each other and reaching upward with hopefully tendrils towards the sun. He liked tracking a single vine, following it with steady eyes before losing it amongst the growing chaos of the plant. Beautiful in a way that only nature could manage, artful its simplicity, pure decision to just survive even if a brick wall stood in its path.

Cassidy wasn’t too sure where that train of thought came from other than that it felt very important, very true, and utterly meaningless. Listlessly he broke his staredown with the wall, tugging at his overlarge sweater as a gust of wind cast up the street he’d been inhabiting for the better part of the morning. Or maybe he’d been there for a few days? Years? He wasn’t sure about a lot of things right now, lost in a sea of blankness and over sensation. If he focused, he could remember the necessary information.

His name was Cassidy Aisling. He had a mom, a dad, a brother, and a chronic illness that was supposed to kill him by 25. He’d spent the last week sick with phenomena, it had gotten worse and worse until the doctors had been forced to put him on a ventilator. Atlas had been there, with a sever set to his mouth and eyes cloudy with a look that Cassidy had wanted to ignore. He'd held his hand and read to him now that he could no longer manage it, filling in for his family when they were too exhausted to stay awake. Atlas has looked mournful, which had frustrated Cassidy because he was stuck to a goddamn machine and unable to force a smile on that annoyingly serious and handsome face. And then….

Disjointed thoughts, foggy from drugs and an unusually dark darkness. His brain could conjure up yelling, someone crying, the wail of a flatline, but they all seemed like memories he was pulling from an old television show. None of them seemed real, just images his brain pulled together to make sense of it all. He didn’t trust any of it, it made him physically uncomfortable to think about, so he just stuffed it deep into the “ignore-this-shit” portion of his brain and moved on.

What he did know is that he’d been sitting at a public bench for a while now, shivering slightly from the cold but relishing in the sensation, and breathing. Deep inhales fully in through his nose and gusting out of his mouth. The plume of hot breath in front of him was glorious, large and full and leaving him with an elated high he’d never known before. Cass had never breathed like this in his entire life, never enjoyed what the expansion of a healthy set of lungs could do for a human. He should probably be figuring out how his broken body was managing this, but for now he was just enjoying the fact that he was defying everything ever expected of it.

There were other weird things. He'd stuffed his hands in his pockets earlier and pulled out a set of keys and phone, both definitely not his but also his at the same time. He’d known the password for the phone, for instance, and he’d known what route to take in this small town to get to where these keys opened a door. Cassidy’s brain had instantly tried unscrambling this knowledge; he had never lived on his own, what with his parents house and the hospital being the only places someone manage his health. But like every time he tried making sense of things, his whole being screeched to a halt and wanted to scramble the hell away from it. And either way, he could breath, so who cared about a stupid new phone and an ominous set of keys?

People began walking by, dog owners on their morning walks or early birds out to fetch a coffee. Cass leaned back against the bench a little more casually, letting the ease of his breath settle him into a comfortable sort of meditation. The absence of struggle had never felt more freeing and he was perfectly content to let the world move around him for a bit, so different then how his life used to be. Everything had been hard before; he’d lived in a world where the basics had been a struggle, he’d had to claw towards every breath and just force his body to keep up with the pace of others. Now everything just worked, he was a functioning part of the world around him and it felt absolutely amazing.

Someone walked out of the building in front of him, a rigid skeleton of a man that Cassidy almost didn't recognize amidst his inner delight and contemplation. It was one of his first times seeing Atlas outside of a hospital coat and his black turtleneck and pants were strikingly odd looking on his pale skin. He also just looked bad, his body caved in like a puppet without strings, his hair limp like dying hay, his brows and eyes screaming ’leave me the fuck alone’.

Obviously, Cass had ignored that expression every time he’d seen it. That was the face that had originally made Cassidy what to crack the med student open, so all it did now was break his own face into a blooming smile. He sat up, grinning from ear to ear and perched on his bench ready for Atlas to smile back in return-

Only to have the man walk straight past him, eyes averted purposefully. Cassidy almost laughed, immediately assuming that this haggard state was something Atlas did not want his patient seeing him in, until the man actually did turn back around relectuantly.

He looked worse, if that was possible, then Cass had originally noticed. He looked like a shell of a human, a gutted pumpkin with only a husk left going about its normal routine. Cass’s smile faded for a moment when unfathomably sad brown eyes locked with his, then he threw himself off his perch and slapped the brightest smile on his face.

“Atlas!” his voice was a croak from misuse- when was the last time he’d spoken out loud?- but he just coughed it away, “Are you ignoring your favorite patient!?”

Atlas blinked at him slowly, like he'd been lost in thought somewhere far away, like he hadn't noticed it was Cassidy he'd just walked passed. When his gaze finally did focus on him, but there was still something not quite ... right about it. "What-" he said, then swallowed thickly and started again, "what are you ... doing here?"

Cassidy threw himself into his normal cheerfulness, hoping that whatever was happening that had chipped apart this man could be fixed with some tea and smiles. He laughed and gestured at the building Atlas had just exited, "I guess its pretty weird I am sitting outside your apartment this early in the morning. I swear At, I am definitely not stalking you. Let's just call this a fun coincidence and ignore all the awkward implications?" He walked a little closer, testing the edges of Atlas's obviously distraught mood, "Are you...okay? You look as uncomfortable as a shrunken wool sweater on tumble dry"

Atlas snorted softly, the way he always did when Cass said something weird. For a moment, that odd expression on his face slipped into something more normal, but it was back far too quickly. "Halloween Market," he said, random, avoiding the question. "Do you ... still want to go?"

"YES!" Cass's answer was instant, loud, and accompanied by a full leap forward. He'd never been able to move like this before and it felt absolutely great to follow up his energetic personality with actual energy, "And I don't even need you as a medical chaperone anymore cause I'm good as new" He took a big inhale to punctuate his point and thumped his perfectly functioning chest, "So just as friends?"

0.25 INK received for post #2768498, located in Hogwarts:



While most students were starting out the train ride in pure amazement, Teddy's face was smooshed against his-one-and-only Kings lap as he drooled a nice little puddle on her wool skirt. Bless her for having nice thighs and the patience enough to deal with his napping. He'd been up with James and Scorp the night before, being serious for once and trying to get the plans finished for the first party of the year. Because, while the first years were thrilled for the opening ceremony, their first night in their dorms, meeting the people they'd come to know as family from now on- the older students knew what coming back to Hogwarts meant.

It meant waiting for your magically delivered golden script invitations. It meant crawling out of bed and sneaking through the halls. It meant elaborate escape plans from the castle to a night that you'd most likely have forgotten by morning. Thankfully they'd developed cures (at a good price of course) for that hangover the next day. They'd get caught for sure if most of the upper years didn't make it to their first day of classes. The first party of the year had become something of legend and Teddy was more then happy to deliver.

There was a moment of jostling- probably Kingsley making herself more comfortable with the mop of blue hair in her lap- that tugged him slightly out of his sleep. The other students were starting to make noise, meaning Hogwarts had probably come into view, "I'd like to die between your thighs one day, they really are heaven" He mumbled as he rotated to look up at her, "We there yet?"

Kingsley peeked at Ted behind tired eyes, smirking. He always had the right things to say. Her fingers pulled at his curls, tugging at the ends to see if they’d change colors. “Bloody hope so,” she said with a yawn “don’t reckon I could last another minute with the squealing first years next door.”

"Oh, we were them once" He lifted himself off her but not away from her, leaning even closer to look out the window. He liked touching, he liked being touched. He liked hands in his hair and soft touches up his arms, something King had always been more than willing to give him. Hogwarts was definitely in sight now, its looming towers a stark contrast against the white overcast sky. He couldn't blame the younger students- it was glorious, a real hail mary to his tired brain. Teddy shook himself awake and cracked a few backbones, then grinned as bright as he could at Kingsley, "Fuckin' hell tonight is going to be glorious"

Teddy wasn't a Prefect- had refused the job- but the guy they'd gotten instead of him had lost some of the first years on the staircase and he'd had to go save the lot himself. Because apparently, he was the only one that cared about kids getting lost in this demented castle. They'd been sniffling, trying really hard not look scared out of their minds when he found them in a dark corridor covered in the ceiling to floor in paintings. Said paintings where the only reason he'd found the kids- Teddy liked to morph into the moving figures when he was practicing his abilities (paintings were a very vain lot, he got applauses almost every time). So, the word had gone out that he was missing a few young Puffs and it had only taken 30 minutes to find them.

But that was 30 minutes that he was supposed to start getting supplies for the night ahead... but he could never deny a student in trouble, especially from his own house.

"Who's your favorite wizard?" He asked over his shoulder as they walk back to the Huddlepuff dormitory (after he'd explained how to navigate the moving staircase properly so this wouldn't happen again).

There was a chorus of answers, but he demanded they decide on only one. They debated, shouting out "Hermione Granger!" excitedly. No doubt they'd heard of his tours before.

He led the five kids back to the dorm as a young, frizzy-haired Gryffindor that seemed to know everything about anything they asked. He'd spent enough time with- and read enough stories- to know how Hermione was. Harry had told him she'd only gotten more knowledgeable as she got older, but never mastered the tacked to explain it. The kids were into it, tried to drag him into the dormitory so they could show the rest of the house who they'd found. But he just laughed, morphed back into himself (yellow and black hair for house spirit this time), and said he had to be somewhere tonight. He'd see them tomorrow, the next day, and the next. There was more time for heroes later.

Now, he needed to be blitzed. They kept a stash hidden from last year out in the woods, some in the Herbology greenhouse, even more in the potions closet concealed behind a false wall. They'd hidden some in the library once, out in the woods, even in the quidditch field. Weird ass locations because they were never sure when something was going to get found and had to ensure it couldn't all be connected together. It took him a few hours- he had to we sneaky, but not too sneaky. He spent most of the time as different students and teachers. Scorp got pissed when he used his face, but it was really the best way to move about the castle without being bothered. People tended to step aside when he was speed walking down a hallway.

He filled a large Quidditch bag. If anyone asked, it was Lysanders stuff he was returning. But if they looked inside, they'd see enough Pixie Dust, Fae Edibles, Muggle Weed, Moondew, Euphoria Elixir, Alihotsy Leaves, and Giggle Water to knock the whole school out and then some.

And hopefully, that's exactly what happened.

The Shrieking Shack always looks solemn and quiet from the outside. They'd spelled it enough so that it remained the same old, spooky looking self. He was glad for no radiating warmth, no sound greeting him on the narrow path leading there. Party attendees knew to come in small groups and spread out so as not to draw attention. But Teddy was sure at this point everyone was crammed inside and sweaty as hell.

God, opening that door was more of a coming home then walking into Hogwarts. It was like being greeted by your bed and just wanting to throw yourself into it. His hair went wild with colors- a rainbow of emotions throwing themselves through his locks. He let out a howl of excitement and the party replied in kind.

Teddy laughed and the chorus of screaming and made his way to their makeshift bar. He slammed the Quidditch bag down with an announcement of, "I've got druuuugs!" and unzipped the bag. His favorite was Euphoria Elixir, happiness bottle in a tiny vial, and he pulled that out first and down it in one shot. Instantly, a burst of golden yellow happiness glided through him, tingling his fingers and making his body feel like he'd been in the sun all day. His hair turned gold, his cheeks warmed with pink, and he grinned.

Yes, fuck, this was home.

Thank ya to LindaRose for Kings words and Char for starting us up again. I luv u