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leisurelyatwar member of RPG for 8 years

Promethean Conversation Starter Author Inspiration World Builder Conversationalist Novelist Completionist Lifegiver Visual Appeal Tipworthy Person of Interest Giver

loudly brown and queer af
226,441 words written.
267 total posts.
848 words per post.
8 posts per roleplay.
61 average days in a roleplay.
34 universes joined.
22.75 INK received in tips.

Basic Information

Username:
leisurelyatwar
Groups:
Began Role Playing:
01 Oct 2002
Favorite Role Playing Game:
Dungeons and Dragons
Game Master:
Yes
Favorite Setting:
Modern, Crime, Supernatural

User statistics

Joined:
Tue Jan 15, 2013 3:29 am
Last visited:
Wed Aug 04, 2021 12:58 am
Medals:
13
Total posts:
Search user’s posts
(0.00% of all posts / 0.02 posts per day)
Most active forum:
Out of Character
(344 Posts / 649.06% of user’s posts)
Most active topic:
The Black City
(26 Posts / 49.06% of user’s posts)

Contact leisurelyatwar

Elsewhere

Medals

Promethean

Promethean

Successfully created a universe for others.

Conversation Starter

Conversation Starter

Created your first topic!

Author

Author

Wrote your first piece in a universe!

Inspiration

Inspiration

Another user created a post in a universe you created!

World Builder

World Builder

Created your first non-default location in an RPG universe!

Conversationalist

Conversationalist

Participated in 10 different conversations on the forum!

Novelist

Novelist

Wrote over 80,000 total words!

Completionist

Completionist

Helped write the story of a universe that survived until the end (marked as "Completed") and was published to the Library.

Lifegiver

Lifegiver

Created a character in an RPG universe.

Visual Appeal

Visual Appeal

Awarded for adding an avatar to your profile!

Tipworthy

Tipworthy

Awarded for receiving your first tip from another user!

Person of Interest

Person of Interest

Created a character that was later followed by another user!

Giver

Giver

Has given a tip to another user!

Universes

10 created.
2 active.
8 inactive.
0 completed.

Completed Stories

Beneath our Skins Completed

This is the story about eight friends and their life [Literate|Open]

Universes Created

Pangaea

A world where magic prevailed and humans evolved alongside magical creatures. (Closed)

Luna Brilla

A hostel nestled in Budapest, Hungary with an eccentric collection of staff and guests from all corners of the world.

Regulus

Sailing through the stars on the Regulus.

At the End

The lore as you know it is wrong, the divine is not as it seems. (Underconstruction) (Open)

Purge: A Nation Reborn

The City of Chicago under 12 hours of lawlessness - Closed (Start Date Postponed)

Pangaea: Solstice

A world where humans evolved alongside magic, a utopia some would say. This solstice marks a new era for some, and while some are celebrating others have more insidious plans in mind.

The Rising

ROLEPLAYERS NEEDED. Big Brother has forced society in submission, those who dare to think are eliminated. Where do you stand?

Most Tipped Posts

4.00 INK received for post #2817195, located in Widow's Peak:

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"What? No...." Leo tilted his head to the side, confused by Elle's questions. If this was a hallucination of his own design, why would it linger on the one thing he wanted to forget. Cradling his face in hers, he imagined that onlookers might give him strange looks but they just walked on by like they were just another lip-locked couple enjoying the festival.

He pulled away, his hands still holding onto hers. It all felt so real. Maybe this wasn't meant to distract him from reality, maybe it was meant to force him to confront it.

"Elle," The words were already failing him, Leo exhaling roughly in an attempt to force them out. He squeezed her hands tighter as he spoke. "You've been gone for five years...you fell into the river and they never found your body...you were declared dead."

Suddenly the notion occurred to him, maybe she wasn't a hallucination, maybe she was real. They never found her, it's possible she washed up somewhere with amnesia and has only just returned. He reached towards the lines in her face that he'd never imagined before, subtle signs of age that marked the passage of time. His brow furrowed with concern, weighing what made him more insane - hallucinating his dead ex or convincing himself she was still alive.

Before she could process and react, the sounds of sirens cut through the silence between them. The eyes of the town watched as the patrol car rounded the festival to the diner where a crowd of people began to gather behind a line of police. His brow furrowed, one hand letting go of Elle's as he stepped forward the other leading Elle.

There was rarely any crime in Widow's Peak that created a spectacle, most of the time the cops were someone you called after the fact. As they neared the fringe of those crowd, two figures stepped out from the diner. From this distance it took a moment to recognize them, but when they looked up and spoke he could see their faces clearly. Their eyes and voices might have been demonic but the rest of them still looked like Xan and Erin - two people he'd never expect to see together in life or death.

Leo had been to Xan's funeral, seen her too-stiff body in that casket. He hadn't been to Erin's but he remember when it happened, his parents had sent a floral arrangement. These two were definitely dead, without a doubt. He stood there stunned, his face twisting into an expression of horror. Out of instinct he let go of Elle's hand, stepping back to look at her - making sure her eyes hadn't turned black as Erin and Xan's had.

"What - who ...?" Leo struggled to get the question out, one hand going to his head hoping to keep himself from spinning out. He grabbed a hold of the closest person to him, pointing to Elle as he looked between them craze-eyed. "Do you see her?"

“What?” The stranger looked at him confused, still baffled at what they'd all just witnessed in front of the diner. They looked at Elle, then to Leo before pointing back to Elle. “Her? Yeah, I see her.”

Leo stumbled back, trying to put distance between him and Elle. “What are you?”



2.50 INK received for post #2817396, located in Scarmouth:

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Damien had never worn such fine clothes. He could tell they hadn’t been worn much by how little give the fabric had when he moved. When they called his name to present the award he’d gone on stage just to say he wished to refuse the award, certain he was eliciting several inward groans from the crowd. He understood that people wanted to be celebrated, but he did not want applause for himself for doing the bare minimum - caring for others.

He’d planned to leave promptly after but then decided he’d hang around until after the event to see if they’d donate the leftovers to his Congregation. Not that they ever went hungry but it was rare for them to have a feast such as this event. Unable to refuse from a lifetime of food scarcity, every time a platter was offered with another tasty finger food he’d pop another into his mouth until he felt he might burst. Self-moderation had never been his strong suit no matter how hard he tried.
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Magnolia stared into her champagne flute, echoes of memories reflecting back at her. How many boxes of champagne had been spent to fuel frivolity while others hungered and here she was still engaging with frivolity. Of course she knew these people deserved celebration, hence her largely funding the awards. She had wanted to stay home, but of course the visual of one of the board members behind the awards being absent was unfavorable.

It had felt strange to sort through her closet. She hadn’t touched anything on the hangers in months, still zipped away in a joint garment bag stuffed out of sight. Everything she had seemed too extravagant, yet it didn’t seem appropriate to buy something new for the event. The heather silk lines of the bodice elongated her figure, dazzling golden embroidered flowers twinkling under the light. Once upon a time she would have scheduled an entire day at the salon before an event, complete with a bit self-pampering. After several failed attempts to style her hair, she’d thrown it all into a hair tie clipping a weave around the hair gathered atop her head and called it a day.

Since she’d arrived she’d hardly said a word, doing her best to be seen yet unnoticed. The others at her table had gone to mingle by the bar, Magnolia lingering behind nursing the shame glass of champagne she had been for the last half hour. It had always been a favorite of hers, but all she could remember was how the last time she’d had champagne she’d been toasting her father.

“Fuck this,” She finally mumbled under her breath, sliding the glass back onto the table and walking over to the bartender. “Do you have bourbon? Double, neat please.”

“Hard night?” Damien looked over at the slender woman beside him, eyebrow quirked.

“Aren’t they all?” Magnolia said more to herself than Damien. She hadn’t realized it was him until she looked over, though she supposed should have recognized his voice given he was on stage less than an hour ago. “Ahh, Father Damien...don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance before.”

“We all know each other at this point,” Damien teased, taking Magnolia’s hand as she offered it. He knew who she was, had seen her in the news more than once. Why pretend to be strangers when the world has already made an introduction for them?

“I suppose so,” Magnolia offered a weak smile in return.

“Have a great night.” He didn’t have a drink, instead tipping his bottled water her way and giving a knowing grin. Damien knew when he made people uncomfortable. There were people who were drawn to him, and people who were skeptic. He could tell by the way the corner of her lips twitched downward that she was ill at ease around him. There was no sense in sticking around where you weren’t welcomed wholly.

“You too,” Magnolia said to the back of his head, watching as he walked out onto the balcony. She wasn’t surprised when Damien had denied his award. She hadn’t expected it but she wasn’t surprised. He was a radical guy by nature, she’d read his literature before. People like that had a hard time leaving the revolution behind, she could relate.

Damien found Danika looking out over the ruins of the city. Many buildings were still destroyed, some streets still blocked by rubble or barricades. Still when the sun set over it, the sky was painted in every shade imaginable.

“Never thought I’d end up in a place like this,” Damien said as he stepped beside her. He knew Danika had grown up going to events such as this. Damien wouldn’t have been able to even score a job serving drinks. He looked over to her, searching her expression to try to place where her mind was.

“Wanted to ask you if you like my speech?” Damien gave Danika a familiar smirk. She had always been the one to call him out when he transcended to a new level of pretentiousness, something he’d grown to appreciate. He had a feeling she’d have a few choice words about it.

The bartender still hadn’t come with Magnolia’s drink. She looked over to see them polishing glasses without a care in the world. Sighing heavily, she leaned over the bar trying to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Admittedly she’d grown used to people ignoring her, their own punishment in this strange world. After an incident at a cafe where a barista spat in her coffee before sliding it across the counter, Magnolia has mostly given up on ordering for things in person. Of course it was always in a moment of weakness she’d try again - always left in the same position.

“Magnolia Wrenley?” Said a voice from behind her. Enough people knew her at this event that she didn’t think twice when she turned around. Before she could even see the person, the contents of their drink splashing in her face. Bits of ice hit her skin with an cold slap, the sweet alcohol getting into her eyes before falling down onto the front of her dress.

She stood there in shock for a moment, security descending on the drink-thrower and dragging them off before Magnolia had a chance to wipe her eyes. Droplets were still clinging to her lashes but she didn’t need to see to know people were staring. Her mouth opened to speak, catching her words before they passed her lips, her tongue pushing along the corner of her lips. She could taste the makings of a cosmo, they didn’t even have the decency to throw a good drink at her.

“Here,” The bartender offered a towel, reaching across the bar to hand it to her. She took the towel, nodding with appreciation. Before they walked away they poured her bourbon, sliding it across the bar with a sheepish expression. Magnolia detested pity but in that moment was just thankful for a drink.

“Thanks.” Magnolia took a long drink, patting herself down with the towel. Thankfully she had no idea how to do make up like they used to do in the salon, and what make up she did wear had been waterproof. She supposed she should have gone to the bathroom to wash herself off but right now she just wanted to finish her bourbon.


1.75 INK received for post #2816033, located in Widow's Peak:

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Xan only went to church for the free coffee and cookies. It was something she learned from her time at the hospital. The chapel there was always hosting all sorts of meetings. AA, NA, ALANON, support groups for people with cancer, support groups for people who were terminal, support groups for every fucking thing you could think of. These people gathered in churches, not necessarily inherently religious but always using its charity to host their events. Where people gathered in church basements, there was coffee and cookies.

She would go to the one for the terminally ill in the hospital, but then she just started going to others because she wanted somewhere to be where she wasn’t the sick girl. Where she was defined by her own voice and no one else’s. She knew it was wrong. Usually she’d be in and out before people got to the sharing part, but she’d be lying if she said she never lingered; never felt so lost that she just needed someone to talk to who wasn’t looking at her like she was the walking dead. So she told herself she came for the coffee and cookies, sometimes she stuck around to be seen.

Caffeine was a poison Xan would have to indulge in small doses. The stress on the rest of her organs from her failing kidney made caffeine hard on her liver. She could never drink alcohol, so she found a way to make the most out of a cup of coffee. Usually after one she’d get a stomachache, yet here she was looking into her fourth cup of coffee feeling better than she’d felt in her entire life.

There was a sinking feeling in her gut that she couldn’t shake, that something was wrong. That she was wrong. It hurt her head to try to connect the dots. She squeezed her phone tightly. That compulsion to scroll through every app and text freezing her in place. Every time she went to text to someone she’d feel paralyzed with a sense of dread. It wasn’t like the dread that had followed her for so long in life, that oncoming expiration date. This was something else, an existential crisis at every micro decision and non-decision.

“Did you want to come up and introduce yourself?”

A voice broke her train of thought, Xan looking up to the room to realize they were all staring at her. She almost dropped her cookies, losing her grip for a moment while she re-oriented herself. Xan gave a weak smile, shaking her heard no then leaving hurriedly. She threw her coffee and cookies into the bin as she left.

She found a bench around the side of the church, collapsing onto it wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her face into them so that her hair spilled over to reach the tops of her converse. She’d only ever left Widows Peak en route to or from a Hospital, having to stick around her local physicians to assure they were only a call away at all times. Yet here she was in her hometown and she felt like a fucking stranger.

“You okay?”

Xan looked up, recognizing the woman from inside.

“You looked like you might want someone to talk to that wasn’t in front of a group of strangers.” Full lips pulled back, her two front teeth too big for her smile – but they just made her shine brighter. Xan tilted her head to the side, enraptured immediately. She sat down beside Xan, offering her hand. “I’m Raven.”

“Xan….nice to meet you.” She said in return, taking Raven’s hand gently. There was a beat of silence that followed, the look in Raven’s eye told Xan she expected a little more than just a name and pleasantry in return. “Oh – well, I should be honest I’m not an addict. I just…well I don’t really know what.”

Raven gave a knowing look, nodding her head as she looked out into the distance. Xan couldn’t tell if she believed her or just thought Xan was in a phase of denial, but either way she could sense the understanding from the way the corner of their eyes crinkled with concern. “I think most people who come here just want a place to be heard. I guess I just recognized that look you had when you walked out. There have been people I didn’t go after when I saw that look and – well, I just didn’t want to keep making the same mistake.”

Xan had to look away to keep herself from crying, forcing herself to laugh instead. “Sorry – I don’t mean to laugh.”

“It’s okay, I get it.” Raven smiled again, this time it reached her eyes. She rifled around in her bag for a moment pulling out a card and handing it to Xan. “Here. Call me if you ever want someone to listen. Not to brag or anything but I’m pretty decent at it.”

Xan took the card nervously, her lips pressing themselves flat in an attempt to maintain her composure. The heavy card stock and embossed letters on the back took Xan aback, expecting it to be some poorly cut business card of some social worker. She ran her thumb over the letters as she read:
Raven Bloom
Life Coach

“Life Coach, huh?” Xan chuckled, looking up – but Raven was gone already. She glanced around briefly, shrugging when Raven was no longer in sight. Her stomach growled, regretting the decision to throw out the cookies. She’d had four cups of coffee and no food. She slid the business card into her back pocket, shoving her hands into her front pockets and walking towards downtown to find a place to eat.


1.75 INK received for post #2816376, located in Widow's Peak:

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Elle's touch sent a jolt of electricity through him, more real than anything he'd felt for a long time. His thoughts were running a mile a minute but all he could see was her face. The sunlight on her back made her glow, painting her in shades of gold. If this was madness, he wished his mind had gone years ago. He reached a hand to cradle her head gently, his fingers twining through her silken hair. In so many ways she looked exactly the same except, like him, harder lines that traced her face marking the passage of time. Maybe this was his mind's way of finally letting him grow old with her.

"I've missed you, too." Leo didn't realize he was crying until he spoke, the words gurgling up and his vision blurred. He brought his forehead to hers, blinking rapidly in an attempt to dry his eyes.

He'd always thought the way they did these things in movies was overdone. The too-real hallucinations, the sudden dive into absolute insanity. Yet here he was, holding a dead girl who was as real as him. Even her hair smelled like cinnamon, though maybe that was just the smell of the Festival on him. Either way, Leo wasn't going to waste a single gifted moment with Elle - even if it was just in his head.

"You were gone...for a while," He wished he could pretend like nothing happened, like they were kids again. Leo wasn't sure if confronting reality would make her disappear, but he knew neither of them where what they were and couldn't pretend to do so. He reached for her hands, holding them between them.

"I've been waiting for you though, Elle." His forehead still rested against hers, afraid if he leaned back and beheld her again that he would start crying.

Her hands felt so real, he could feel their heat between his. Even her breath was hot on his skin. He closed his eyes for a moment and just let himself soak in her presence.

"I'm sorry you haven't been feeling like yourself, but you're here now." He whispered, his hands sliding to cradle her face between them. Tilting her chin up to guide her lips towards his, Leo leaned in to brush his lips against hers. "I'm going to take care of you, always."

A hand fell along her side, sliding beneath the fabric of her coat to wrap around her, tugging her closer. Her body pressed against his, she still fit perfectly. He reached further into her hair, desperate to hold on tight in case she disappeared in his own arms.

"I love you so much, Elle." Leo's words fell on her lips, melding his mouth against hers. At first he was slow, deliberate; years of yearning pouring into one moment. He gripped at the hair at the base of her neck, deeping the kiss.


1.75 INK received for post #2816356, located in Widow's Peak:

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Xan kept her head down as she walked, buried deep beneath her thoughts. Everything looked the same, but different. Just like the woman in the mirror. Some of the sidewalks looked like they'd been repaved recently, some storefronts changed names. She couldn't shake this feeling of displacement.

The sounds of the people made her ears perk, recognizing the smells and decor as the Harvest Festival. She bit the inside of her cheek, wondering how she could have possibly forgotten. Last she could remember it was still spring. A pang shot through her temples, Xan wincing as she reached for her head. The pressure helped dull the pain.

She suddenly remembered how hungry she was, looking around for the first place she could see that had food, recognizing a diner. Still rubbing her temples, she pushed herself through the diner doors taking a seat at the counter.

"What can I get you?" Asked the old man behind the counter.

"Just a milkshake, chocolate malt please."

"Are you sure you don't want to try our pumpkin flavor? It's perfect for the season."

"Uhm, sure - and actually, can I get a double cheesburger too." Xan hadn't ever had so much junk food, it made her sick usually. She buried her head into her hands, trying to collect her thoughts. Nothing was right. Maybe this wasn't even real, maybe she was dreaming - and if she was, might as well enjoy it.

Xan pulled out her phone, suspending in time for a moment - her body telling her to stop. She punched in Nixie's number, something she'd done a dozen times always hanging up before she could hear the click of the line connecting. A couple of times she managed to send the call through - always hanging up before the second ring.

A mop of white blonde hair made her freeze, phone still in hand. She stood up so quickly she knocked down the drink of the person next to her, immediately mumbling a string of apologies. When she looked back, the woman was staring back at her with a blank expression. Xan almost fooled herself for an instant, insisting she must be wrong. This wasn't Erin. There wasn't a blink of recognition in her expression, it was like she was seeing right through her. Then she saw the darks of her eyes, the slope of her nose. There was no mistaking it, it was...

"Erin?!" Xan said much louder than she intended. She heard the sound of a distant voice, looking down and realizing the phone had connected. Panicking, she hung up - not bothering to find out if she'd just been sent to voicemail. She stood there for a moment stunned. The sharp pain in her temple was back, making her wince. Too many things were happening at once. She grabbed her head, squinting her eyes the florescent lights above suddenly blinding.

Then she just vanished.

Disappeared right out of thin air. Those around her so preoccupied with cleaning up the spill they hadn't noticed, only the woman with the white-blonde hair had been looking at her. Xan looked back, completely unaware that she was no longer visible. Her migraine had left as quickly as it came, Xan steadying herself as she walked toward the woman. It was obvious the woman didn't recognize Xan anymore than she had a moment ago, but there had been a shift in her posture when Xan said her name.

The woman's gaze didn't follow her as she approached, remaining fix at the point where she disappeared. Xan sat down across her, unwittingly re-manifesting in the seat across from Erin. "What are you looking at?"