AtomicEmperor

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

@Estylwen

Posting in 3-7 hours! @AtomicEmperor, post soon! :)

@Estylwen

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Hider

Edict

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Mentions: Linqian Han | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Municipal Library

---

Whatever Hail Mary tosses he was making at this point, it was all done at a target behind a wall he couldn't see through. Not that he could really see the wall either; he was slinging action from miles off and he didn't even realize it until she gave that same kind of dry response that he knew all too well. Between her and a thousand other people who he'd read wrong, it was that same hollow feeling one got picking up desiccated wood.

”Maybe I should see a shrink if they can work miracles like changing you from criminal to nice guy tryna atone,”
Yeah, classic Linqian. Fair enough.

Since she wouldn't take the cash as condolence, which was fairly insulting to him as there wasn't much funny about someone's brother dying, he stuffed his hand back into his pocket. While he hadn't necessarily been the most helpful when it came to loss in the community, he was at least genuinely sorry that things were coming to this whole situation. As genuine as he could be, at least...
He came back out with a couple more rolls, unfurling them and slipping them together before handing over a slightly more substantial stack of cash.
"All business with you... Fine. Twenty-five hundred here, plus another five hundred for you to use if you're going to the club. It's lubricant, capiche? There's two strippers over there too, Pink and Violet or some shit; I already had a tip tellin' me to watch 'em so just be on the lookout for shady shit."

He handed over a business card on top of the stack. It was simple, but poignant: A solitary sycamore sat over the words "Home Grown Exports". Below that, an equally solitary phone number.

"Call that when you want to meet up and fill me in. And hey, if you go to the website, you can order the same tobacco I use: I'll make sure the screening team looks for your name, we'll get you a slick discount. I'm talking farm to paper prices!"

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Hider

Edict

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Mentions: Britney Williams, Linqian Han Auri Auclair| Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Municipal Library

---

For a while, Edict stared up at the faded night with his cigarette lit. He realized how shitty Grays were just after taking the first drag and was resisting the urge to reach into his pocket and pull out one of his own rolls. He'd grown used to the quality of Louisiana tobacco on a trip down south for the Connection; hadn't looked at a pack of pre-rolls since. Thinking about it more and more made him think about all the other things he could be doing right now, and he reached a hand into his pocket to pull a small piece of paper out. Names...
Nour, Nakamura, Violet, Pink, Hayes... Shayton.
Fucking bikers... No way he was going to that strip club now, not without some sort of disguise or cover. Sycamore Tree gets back together, and he just shows up at a bunch of One Percenters' front door like the game has changed? Bunch of cocksuckers, lowlife fucks who couldn't keep dope out of their noses long enough to be anything more than a disorganized thorn in the side of a sleeping giant. But, connected? That wasn't going to be good for any of them. But Edict couldn't find a bone to care about warning any of them. A few Sycamores chopped down would be better for him. Blood made bad business... Usually, at least.

A figure came from the direction of the shop, stepping between the street lights headed pretty much right for him. Linqian... A face he thought about often, as he crossed airports and saw some exotic looking people but never managed to find someone quite as striking as her. She had beauty certainly, but he remembered she used to joke about Jinhai getting all the brains. He'd only ever seen her use that sort of thing to her advantage even though her fucking attitude was just as good at smashing any good will she scraped together.
Nobody was taking advantage of Jinhai these days.
He grimaced to himself at the dark thought, folding the note into his palm and tucking it hard to minimize the chance she saw anything at all.

”Room for one more?”

"As long as you don't start bitching at me like that, Linqian, you can stoop kid with me as long as you want sister."
She lit her cigarette off his, and he saw the cheap pack. It made his eye twitch, and it was fairly visible as his glasses were up pushing the hair out of his face. He listened to her ask questions, but all the while he stared at the trash cigarette in her mouth until it got to be so much that his hand flicked up and snagged it by the cherry on the end. There was a gentle hiss as he pulled the half a cigarette from her mouth, tossing both it and his own cheap trash cigarette into the street. His first free hand, with the note still jammed tight to his palm, slipped into his jacket pocket and casually swapped the note for a few other items; a small cigarette case and a book of matches. Popping it open, he pulled two cigarettes out and stuck the brown handrolled cigarette back into her mouth. The paper filter was a bit more sturdy than the cotton, and it had a bit more weight overall than something in the pack. He pulled a match and struck it off the cigarette case, lifting and lighting his own before pulling it out and sticking it up to hers to light.

"That's a smoke, ain't it? Low processed, compared to that garbage shit. Should be the fucking standard."
He looked at her, smiled, and took a drag of the earthy warm smoke. Flavorful; not just tar and gasoline.
"It ain't a cult. Still in The Life, just... Keepin' my nose clean, y'know? Makin' way more money than I ever was."
He took another drag, free hand slipping into a different coat pocket.
"Which reminds me, here. My condolences to you and your family: I ain't know if Jinhai had any kids or anything, but you let me know if your family needs any help. I'm here for everyone whose lost someone to this shit so far, I mean that. The priest thing? A little pretentious, I admit, but... Seriously. I'm here to help. This shit is Home, feel?"
His hand comes out of the jacket pocket and holds a small roll of cash up to Linqian. He had quite a few in there, some instant kindling to spark some fires that needed lighting. He figured this was going to be an easy first step. It wasn't hard for him to say one thing and feel a completely different way, to the point that lying didn't really register on his face these days. And if he got caught? Just tell another one. Throw as many darts as necessary for a bullseye.

"As far as jobs though, maybe you can help me out with some shit here in Porty?" he continued his line of questioning and logic.
"After something like that, I gotta just come clean with someone, right? Look; I've been hittin' some serious therapy and shit back East. My Doc is fantastic, and she's really helpin' me understand a lot of what's been wrong with me my whole life, y'know? All this shit with my family, and like comin' to terms with my Moms and shit? And, well, you know she can't really understand what people like y'all can. But, she says that I'm like..."
He sounded really heartbroken about this. He was, on occasion. There were nights he really wanted to be a better man, a more serious and legitimate person. An upstanding individual. But why fight that feeling?
"She says I'm more or less addicted to it. That using my Abstraction is like some... Some j-... Some substance abuser using a drug to get high and escape reality. And, I knew that I shouldn't have come out here like this, but when Auri gave me the call and I thought about how I always wanted to be that better person, I knew I wanted to make things right with you all. I figured maybe if I put on some bullshit heirs or something that everyone would just forget, but..."
He choked up a little bit again, playing off of what happened earlier now.
"I mean nobody bought it, right? So, there's no chance I'll be able to make anything right with anyone now."
He shook his head, hanging it in false shame so practiced and real you'd wonder how an individual can tow such a line and stay sane.

Finally, he took one deep breath.
"So... What I'm really trying to say is that... If you want a job, and you're willing to help me, then I can make sure that something like tonight doesn't happen again, but I can still help. I want you to be my eyes and ears, figure out who else is willing to hear me out and make amends, that way I know who I can really trust in St. Portwell, and who is just going to think I'm the same person I always was. I'm... I'm seriously trying to do this right, Linqian."
Carnegie always taught that to seal a deal, you should consistently use a person's name when directing toward them. It made them feel more inclined to you, warmer, more alert.
"I'm willing to pay for any inconveniences, but... I can probably point you in some good directions so that you can find other likeminded people to back you up quicker, y'know?"

Hider

Leon

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Mentions: Greenwood Coven, Alizée Altieri | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Veni Vidi Veni Parkinglot

---

Leon counted himself lucky that the fighting wound down before the Void got any more intense. He was expecting rammifications from his dear friend later on, probably at the price of some of St. Portwell's innocents, which wasn't exactly the kind of thing he wanted. He knew he'd offer himself in their place gladly, letting the thing suckle from Lady Lelou until it had enough that the innocents could live for now. One more night in paradise... Between the two of them, there was enough power to seriously damage the city, and adding in this many Adepts was like adding fuel to the fire.
Still strangely transformed, Leon's massive overstretched hands scratched at the wound the Void had caused. His strange, slightly too long pale face stared out from his golden mane at the Greenwood Coven members gathered about as he addressed them.

"Forgive her... She i-isn't..."
It was dreadfully difficult to speak like this. He could hear and smell so many different things, and there was the everpresent echo of bloodlust itching at the Fire seal like it was a scratch and sniff. Leon stamped his foot down on the ground, spinning to look at Alizée and seeing her doing... Something? He'd heard a child's voice, but didn't smell any children. The blood was fresh, but... More? Where? Inside?
Finally, he grew frustrated, smashing a fist off the pavement and pointing up at the gathered Greenwood.
"Go! Now! Before Judas arrives and we're all in trouble!"

Leon spun, trying to get his massive hands to slip into the proper somatic positioning to channel the energy required to seal himself back up enough that there weren't going to be people up and down the street grabbing their pitchforks. However, he was struggling. He was usually prone to bouts of nausea and weakness after dealing with Alizée's wonderful companion, and rarely did he have the chance to reseal himself when they settled disputes. Usually it was his Handler doing it... Usually Daisy... He had to count on himself now, and took a deep breath. Fingers twisted, and as he released the oxygen he felt everything relax. The leftover essence curled from his lungs in a huff of thick black smoke as his body deflated and buckled back into something of a more natural shape. But, he was still woozey and unsure of what was coming. He didn't even turn back to see if the others cut their losses and ran or not, only moving toward Alizée.

"Petite soeur, viens! Nous devons fuir avant que les indésirables n'arrivent!" (Let's go, little sister! Before the Undesirables show up!)
As he approached her, he looked past and down. A child? The voice! But, as the last bit of truesense left his nose, he grimaced as he looked at the thing.
"Alizée! Not here, Fille, we need to go! We've fucked everything up now, let's go find you a meal in the Temple! Vite!"
He felt a certain amount of distrust and disgust with the child that Alizée was doting over, and there was a gut reaction to want to run from him, like an instinct of distrust.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

<Snipped quote>

When the 2v3 turns into a 1v4. o-o;;

@Estylwen

Only temporarily! If this little stunt doesn't end things, they're getting howled on.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Edict

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Mentions: Britney Williams, Kali Mahendra, Linqian Han, Luca Olivera, Sloane Faris, Sully McPherson, Stormy Carson, Auri Auclair | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Flowers and Canvases

---

One may ask the question: If a tiger could change its stripes or its colors, would it? Or was there pride in the orange, black and white that made them so striking and so efficient at remaining hidden by the jungle. In their environment, the color may change based on evolution, but the tiger itself as an individual could never have a say in the color they end up. It simply is. So, for such an immediate backlash, especially as he was really only making cursory rubs at the different spheres that crowded the room.
Edict couldn't help that he loved the feeling of touching them; of rubbing against it all and seeing what rippled and what caved in... This Kali shit wasn't good. Brit showing up had left Edict totally vulnerable, and knowing what he did about Kali made him sure that there was going to be something-
He grunted slightly, not having much time to get into any other cracks he was feeling. Luca had split right open seeing Brit, but in the same moment he saw an opening, Kali slipped in behind him mentally. It was a dark room, maybe a dark house. The whole thing quiet, but Edict knew there was an intruder. The gun in his hand shook as he went from corner to corner clearing the building step by step until the basement stairs peered up at him with eery darkness unmatched in the rest of the house.
"Everyone else isn't on their radar... but you."
Edict raised the gun on instinct, and seeing the outline of the darkness begin to writhe behind the fog below caused him to panic. He screamed, shouted, fired the gun several times...

But then Britney was there...
"But, what in the world are you wearing? Halloween ain't for another week; take that shit off!"
Edict couldn't help the reaction of what he had just seen, and tears began to roll down his face as the surrounding peoples continued to shift and shuffle. Linqian was the first to complain, drawing the attention to the action itself before following up with a comment about his and Britney's previous relationship. She didn't seem vulnerable at all, which was fine. It was all fine; he just... Just wanted to feel them. He couldn't explain that the prodding and knocking was just for the sake of it... That was just as creepy.
”If you ever want anyone to drown your sorrows with, I’m here.”
He'd probably think about it...

The chance he had to crawl into Luca's rotten abode similarly faded as he ran off, replaced by another fucking new sphere he had to try and feel in order to recognize. Sloane didn't give him a chance to do so, however. He felt that she had sat and let him prod, which made her reaction much more surprising.
“Your choice.”
At this point, he was still leaking tears as a reaction: The same way the human body sweats to cool, his eyes had to leak to get the things they saw out of his head... But his nose stuffed up, and as he took a snort inward, he felt his hands shake a little.
"Sloane... Come on now. I'm not here to hurt anyone, alright?"

And then that new foreign energy broke in, and it was exactly who he assumed. One of the Jock Squad, just like Sully... Fucking Stormy. Who else to start shit with Britney? But, before he could step in to defend her, Auri raised her voice again to try and get a grip on the situation. He knew Britney wasn't going to want him white knighting for her regardless of his inclination to do so, so rather than pushing it any further, he smiled and laughed. There were still tears leaking from his eyes like a sieve, but his expression seemed to shift and change to reflect his actual annoyance that was beginning to bubble up past his restraint.
"Like this, Sloane... All this? We're all on different pages. All it takes is fifteen minutes, and everyone in this room can be calm, collected, and ready to work together using me as a link. But nobody trusts Greyson. Nobody wants to act like Greyson can help. Priest? No, but... My life is a lot different where I am now. People count on me to mediate and moderate... They call me Edict, like a holy command. But-"
Edict shook his head and tightened his jacket slightly. His eyes lingered on Britney as he started to walk around her before turning to face the group.
"-I'll just remove myself. If it's so detrimental, if nobody's willing to use the resource, you can come find me when you need some money or something. Just like the old days. Better to not hang around with feds and narcs anyway."

Realistically, he wanted to get distance between himself and Kali... The goal at this point was to work outside his range, not make a stink, and try and get what he could out of this visit. He had clients, after all, and their needs had to be met first. He'd scarcely complete anything with a Fed that could dopple him running around nearby. It was all too much, and rather than make any sort of worse impression, he figured he'd just bail. Reset, essentially, and let the people who wanted to seek him out do so on their own time.
"You've got my cell number, Auri. Give it to anyone who wants it."
And he pushed past Stormy, staring at him trying to figure out if he had something to say in Britney's defence before he left. Nah. Auri had it covered, or she didn't. It was her problem, and he knew Britney wouldn't want him involved... Instead, it was out into the breezy St. Portwell street. His driver wasn't expecting him, so the car didn't pull out of the space to come claim him. Rather, he moved across the street and down a few hundred yards to a small library's front stoop. It was closed at this point, so it was the perfect place to stop and have a cigarette, which he still had from Eve. He sat down on the step, leaned back with the cigarette in his mouth, and took a big deep drag before breathing the dragon's smoke back into the air.

Precious fuckers.

Hider

Leon

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Mentions: Greenwood Coven, Alizée Altieri | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Veni Vidi Veni Parking Lot

---

Leon immediately kicked himself in the ass for letting Alizée go on about her very special way of negotiating things. He had been behind her when the blast went off, and when Alizée was tossed, she impacted his knee and drove him down to a slide as the gale ceased.
Shit.
He was feeling the effects of the booze still. His legs were weak, and he was spinning around in his own brain fluids even as the fireworks began. The one with the webbing was behind them, and very soon they were dealing with the full surround, leaving Leon in an incredibly strange position. On the one hand, Alizée and he had more than an understanding; it was a kinship developed through years of physically fighting one another and coming to agreements. They felt similar about things, and the whole French thing helped with trust and unity. He loved her like he loved his little sisters, and nothing was going to keep him from protecting her.
But on the other hand, this was stupid. He had no fill-in, no real idea as to why she was even at this bar in the first place. She was being more than reckless; she was being wild. If he didn't know any better, he'd assume she was just looking for a mark and managed to find the absolute worst case scenario... But it wasn't going to get resolved unless one side or another broke off.

"Alizée!"
Leon broke his silence as Alizée began to push her powers forward. Trying to step, he found that his whole right leg was bound to the ground by the strong net. Magical garbage... But, his companion was getting ahead of him. He had to break out, had to stop her, had to diffuse the situation before anyone else showed up and made things worse... He had to get sober.
Fuck it.
There was a low rumble around Edict as his fingers began to snap from position to position; somatic components meant to trigger emotional responses that would in turn loosen the seals within him and allow a greater level of power to flow through him. By virtue of her abilities, Alizée usually won their little spats, but usually she was paying attention to him. This time, he figured he'd be able to do something. He'd be able to protect her from herself.

The first seal was the Spirit seal, its essence filling the inner chamber in which the power culminated. Lelou didn't protest, knowing full well that whatever was coming meant a stretching of the legs. Some time out. He didn't love the prospect, but he and Lelou had to make compromises for one another in order to function without struggle. The give and take was always a tenuous alliance... But, there was no concern as the spirit seal loosened right up. It filled his physical form with magical energy that he figured he was going to need.
"How many times have I had to tell you: If you're hungry and desperate, you come to me! Don't go hunting like this, Alizée! Drop her now!"
He knew what the best defense was against his companion; feed her until she's satisfied, and hope you last. Unlike others, he knew Lelou was plenty of food, and going off his previous assumption that's all he assumed she was here for.
The Earth and Water seals opened further, pouring into the neutral Spirit energy and coloring it a deep golden hue that dictated the further physical transformation of Leon.

His hair faded, rapidly whitening to match Alizée before burning back into a matching color to the energy within and growing further down his neck and back. His size increased rapidly, legs beginning to buckle and turn to digitigrades as he pushed up over the seven foot mark. His upper body; shoulders and chest and arms, began to bulk up more than his already substantial musculature allowed. He didn't let the transformation get much further here: This was to maximize durability. He was making himself juicy. Finally, Lelou had something to say.
Grip and rip: Break it! You need more! Let me kill it finally!
He felt a lashing pain as the Fire seal did its job in preventing an overflow that would drive him berserk, but a small influx did flood in. It was fine: Mixed into the cocktail, it was just a bit more strength he'd have to be careful of. By this time, Alizée had backed off into a somewhat defensive position where the Void was able to whirlwind its assets about in a blanket of protection. With his body saturated, the energy being used quickly sapped the alcohol from his system and sobered him up. The web snapped as he flicked it off his leg, and in a fell swoop he would attempt to rush Alizée in order to give her something far more concerning to think about.
"Drop the fucking Ginger!"
He went low like an Olympic wrestler, squatting and launching himself forward at a low angle hoping to grip her by the legs and disrupt her channeling. If the void decided to focus on him, the unfortunate victim could at least attempt an escape with her companions. They could ask questions later; for now, they had to pull off. Things were beyond too hot.

If he were successful in getting to Alizée and taking her out at the knees, he'd wrap his hand around the back of her head to minimize the chance of deadly injury before power bombing her into the concrete parking lot... As gently as possible, of course. He didn't want her hurt, only to stop and reconsider her actions.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Hider

Leon

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Mentions: Auri Auclair, Lynette Hunter-Richoux | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Gravity Gym - One Week Ago

---

Whump Whump Whump...

The sound of the heavy bag swinging in between the guitar riffs kept the pace. Leon stared at the thing as if it had killed everything he loved, an intensity that hadn't been matched in some time. His blood was boiling, and at this hour of night he should've been sleeping rather than up punching something that didn't care about being punched. Something was telling him there was shit going wrong out there, and ever since the call about Ashley came in, the Remnants had been on lockdown. Or, at least the ones he and Daisy could account for.

Whump Whump

Whump

Whump-Kshnk!

The last blow caught the heavy bag deep in the gut, driving it upward on its chain and causing the whole supporting structure to rattle as Leon continued to pound away with bare knuckles at the inanimate object. It was focus: Sheer focus on one thing and one thing only. Getting the job done fast as possible with as few mistakes as possible. There was no score card after you drive someone to the brink of life and death. You leave them there, they falter, and once they regain consciousness the match has already been called. You had to be able to deliver the killing blow from anywhere, and he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of his own physique as his body contorted hard to the side to delve another devastating kidney shot to the, again, inanimate opponent that didn't seem to care at all about his assault.

Whump Whump, Whump Whump, Whump...

Whump, Whump, Whump!

Whump-Kshnk-Kchkchkchk!

The hundred plus pound bag hoisted upward again like a Smash Bros. trial participant, yet showed no signs of yielding in its slow and methodical counter-assault as its chain slammed off the support beam above it. Everything was probably fine... Just another late night energy attack for a kid who was always doing too much. He tried to think about the current events: A wolf statue ended up on Ashley's doorstep, then she's dead? Why? He knew she wasn't the greatest witch, she wasn't even necessarily the greatest friend, but when the time called the people rallied to her call and, what? She's condemned to death? He already had suspicions that it was one of their own. Some other rejected member of society who can't fit into either world they exist in, some corrupted Stygite for whom the war never ended and the Sycamore Tree never stopped screaming in their ears.

The phone in the office began to ring. Leon took deep, protracted breaths meant to bring his heart rate back down as quick as possible. Sweating like he'd just been out in a storm, he picked the towel up from it's hanging place on the equipment nearby and began to run it across his face and head.
Never good news at this hour.
No... No it wasn't ever good news at this hour. He tolerated the jabbing from his inner prison, long ago having come to accept that he would never be able to shut her up without holding the pillow tightly over her face while she slept. While she still had access to his physical senses, his own mind was a secure office in which he could think and plan without her knowledge or consent. It was her punishment for preying upon the Coven... Now here they were almost a decade on, and things hadn't been an issue until now. Why now?
He stepped into the low-light of the office, leaning himself against the table like it was a stool for his massive frame. The phone looked little in his similarly sized hands, but he still pulled it from the receiver to his ear with grave.

"Gravity Gym, you've got the Wolf: Howl at me."
A practiced answer. The reply wasn't so practiced. At first, Leon's face caved forward into a confused scowl, but that very quickly shifted into a far more open and peeled back look of fear and concern.
"Auri, listen... Listen to me! There's an explanation! There has to be; Daisy wouldn't say something like that to you and then not follow up if there wasn't a good reason!"
Another pause. He was starting to think that there was probably a good reason for his heart being up tonight.
"That's the last thing we're gonna think about right now! Let me call Lynette a-"
Interrupted. She didn't want the Temple involved. Frankly, he didn't either. His Mother always had a bad habit of getting stuck to things she didn't belong in, but she and Daisy were family. Direct family, and Leon thought that her involvement was justified. Auri wasn't so convinced.
"Fine, fine! I'll be there in ten then, just stay alert and flood the fucking place with butterflies!"

Leon

---

Mentions: Greenwood Coven, Alizée Altieri | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Veni Vedi Veni

---

Fucking Judas... Hadn't shown up all day. Leon had spent the earlier parts of the day staked out in a nearby coffee shop hoping to interrupt some of the Wolfpack's business. While there was no surefire tip that the man in charge knew anything about Father Wolf or the ongoing problems for members of the Old Branch, it was too difficult to have his own moniker dragged through the dirt while some fuckass used it to kill his friends. Ex-friends. Some were still close, but those memories were cold in the grave. He missed seeing the guys, or hearing about what others were getting up to. Even some of the more troublesome people...
His right arm was occupied by one of the floor matrons of Veni Vidi Veni, and while he hadn't been especially receptive to advances, he was perfectly happy to have her there for getting him stuff. He'd already stuffed a cool grand in her pocket to keep his name out of her mouth when dealing with the other girls, and had done so similarly with another who happened to greet him when the establishment opened. He came with a band, and was prepared to spend the whole thing to make sure that when Wolfpack did eventually show up, Leon would be the first person Judas Bennet would be dealing with.

But, that was hours ago. It was getting later, and he was half a bottle of rum deep with the Earth seal pulled back ever so slightly to keep the alcohol metabolizing at a higher speed. Booze, as it turned out, was great fuel for the Lady. Spirits. Leon giggled to himself in a stupor as he listened to the music. Still, he was staring at the front door, only occasionally peeling away to place a drink down or pick it back up. Even conversing with his hostess was half-hearted, his focus too pointed on the issue at hand. He passed the drinking off as an energy store in case things went south with the MC, but frankly this was the first time in a week he'd sat down for more than ten minutes... He didn't want to go to the meeting Auri was having, hoping to hear about who actually came through before he decided to get into the business of briefing and debriefing people about the involvement.
Then, who came through the door? Certainly not Judas fucking Bennet, but a familiar face none-the-less. From the corner booth, he'd recognize the pale white hair and slender features of his fellow Aberrant anywhere: Alizée Altieri! He nearly broke off from the dark corner booth, but decided that his legs were too gelatinous and sludgy to reliably carry him on into a conversation with her. But, he was able to question what the fuck she was doing here: Out of anyone, he figured she'd be at Auri's little meeting, if anything to save face for the nightly business. He was curious about what drove her off, but equally curious as to what her intention was here. She wasn't looking to hunt, was she?

The Hand, the Hand! It grips and pulls at us! Break the vessel, break the beast!

Leon frowned a bit. Drunk bitch... Leon continued to stare as some kind of exchange was happening at the bar. The red head looked familiar, like someone who had shown up at the Gym a few times. She was ripped, and he found himself nodding along. Maybe she'd get away from Voidlight. Leon's hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans, and he pulled out a small wad to hand to his hostess.
"Y'know, you've been swell tonight. But, I think I'm gonna be going here soon, so-" he politely folded the bills into her hand. "-be free, ma tourterelle. Don't spend it all in one place now, and... If you see me sleeping? Just nudge me awake and I'll slide on out."
"You sure you don't want me to call you a cab Mr. Richoux?"
"Nah, no worries. My ride is here." he said, pointing up toward the bar at Alizée.
The girl nodded, taking him at face value and thanking him for the relaxing shift before prancing happily back into the back to get ready for ending her shift. Leon, now alone, knocked back the rest of the drink that was sitting in front of him before fully outstretching his legs. Even in that short span, things had begun to turn at the bar. Alizée had started in on her own beverage, interacting with the red head and seeming to be joking about in some way.

It wasn't until Pink and Violet started their stage set that things got weird. Out of nowhere, the bartender was whistling for security and the red head seemed to ghost out as fast as possible which... Well, it didn't go well for her. At once, Alizée's massive spectral hand gripped her by the chest and squeezed tight. Leon had felt it dozens of times, some willing and some by chance, but no matter what it sent a visceral sensation through his body. It was a sympathy pain of the highest order, and kept him from moving for a moment as the adrenaline of his body began to mix into his own charged blood. He leased the Water seal, followed by Air and Fire, letting the energy pool in him before flushing it out through the Spirit seal. It didn't mean he wasn't still drunk, only that in a few minutes he'd not be drunk, and if he kept things to a light strain, he'd probably soak an extra five minutes out of the sugar in his gut and the booze in his liver.
Alizée pushed out the front door with her target in tow, and as he felt Lelou's connection, he stood up with a great big exhale. The giant at the corner of the bar slipped down, grabbing his hat and his flannel from the booth and slipping them both on before slapping another couple hundred on the table and making his own path to the door.

As he immerged, the Greenwood Coven was already moving to surround Alizée, so now it was pretty clear that backup was a necessity. He let the doors swing shut behind him, sauntering closer and closer until he was looming over Alizée from behind.
"Quel est le problème, ma douce main? La nourriture ne peut pas être si rare, non?" (What's the problem my Sweet Hand? Food can't be so scarce, no?)
His voice growled, and his Emotional Field pushed outward as Lady Lelou's energy bolstered his own. He'd only slightly released the seals, the hair on his face thickening into a black fur matching his long flowing hair that cascaded down his shoulders. Leon's eyes looked up at the Red Head in the clutches of Alizée, then back out at the assailants.
"Let me guess... She's with you?" he asked toward the Greenwood Members, having only a vague idea of exactly who these Portwell Power Rangers actually are. "And, who is you, exactly?"

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Edict

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Mentions: All Meeting Attendents | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Flowers and Canvases

---

Edict had been ready to leave the moment Kali mentioned he was a fed. He was even trying to play things cool, and was on board with bringing Linqian and anyone else who wanted to leave along so that they could have some sort of actual pow-wow over the concerns facing them as a group. He didn't much care for talking like this in buildings anyway; all it took was one laser beamed in from a room a hundred feet away at the top of a building across the street, and every single word they said ends up in some file somewhere. Was there any real reason in staying? Did he want to? No!
But, then there was the matter of that funny little itch that he was getting. With everyone in such an emotional state, it was difficult to not prod and poke just a little bit. Just to see where everyone's minds were at. Though they had to let him in to know what was wrong, he knew that as long as he rubbed up against those angry, upset and fired up feelings, he'd be able to start popping tumblers. Breaking and entering of the emotional field: A slow process that required finess and time in order to accomplish. Granted, the moment he released anything, everyone would know. Everyone would be able to feel that Warm Little Center getting cozy against their fields, and it would probably bring the heat back onto him with plenty of ire to spare. Currently, he was trying to figure out why Eve was being so friendly, especially after what had happened with the whole heist thing. He grinned as she passed off a Gray Strike cigarette, remembering the first time she'd given him one as some sort of joke.
It's spelled with an E, Dumbass.
Back when they had better days. Well, maybe her better days. Edict's best days were back in Minnesota, where his money was. He thought about the club, and about the feelings he got when he was able to just unfurl his spectrum of mind altering pseudochemical impulses on a mass amount of Blinds. But, they didn't have Emotional Fields. There was no pushback, no tactile sensory response like he got whenever he found the occasional Triclops among the crowd. It was usually a rush, especially sending the dogs to hunt them down, tracking them by the stress of being pushed and prodded until they were a scrambled mess. He had to set ground rules, after all; and having any Paranormals in his club meant bad business. Meant that there could be someone tracking him, or aware of his business. The only similars allowed were business partners, and they were not allowed to stay and party.

And, with those happy feelings, the love of his legitimate night club business in mind, an addict began to do what an addict does: Use. The only difference between himself and some popper, however, was that their addiction was typically for escape. Their lives are hard, they want to get away for brief periods, they just can't stay away from that feeling of comfort... But for Edict, it was never an escape: It was a wholesale delving into the problems and ambitions of souls and minds that were not his, not because he found solace in their pain and pleasure, but because he knew that he could get somewhere that he didn't think anyone else really could.
Slow, quiet whisps rose up from those gold frames like they were burning a hole into Edict's head. Metaphorical tendrils crept from him like a blind beast hunting for its food at the sea floor, finding Eve and Sully close by to begin rubbing against. They would've felt it first, right around the time Eve shoved a gun into the front of Edict's pants. He hadn't really been paying attention until then, but feeling the polymer finish of the Glock on his cock made him giggle. And the fact that she made sure to give it to him meant that she wanted him noticed too... Like she wanted the target on him. Edict didn't mind; especially not with what was leaking out of him now. But, the two of them would feel a very familiar sensation, and it would spread across the room like wildfire until it washed across Kali and Auri.

And then he was there again. Like he never left: One free hand crept up to sweep the messy curls backward until the visage of that same seventeen year old cocky asshole stared back at them. Never leaving the safety of his shades, always with a toothy grin that screamed superiority complex. The other hand popped the clerical collar off, sweeping downward and tossing it into the nearby garbage pail.
"Well, I mean... Great pitch Kali. You wanna help us now?"
His voice up until then had been practiced. The marked shift came with an active pulse of his warmth, again splashing across the emotional fields of the gathered Coven members like hot coffee poured on a sheet of glass. He was gap hunting; like a vampire about the town on a moonlit evening, he was knocking at every door waiting to be let in, but only finding apprehensive and nervous individuals. Some were annoyed, pissed even. Indignant to say the least, and a few more had some fading empathy that he could smell wafting like a maple scent. People actually felt bad for Kali? And then... His eyes traced across the room to a familiar yet unexpected type of tactile feedback. The emptiness of a Blind. The Third Eye Opened sat somewhere quiet... Maybe she didn't think anyone would notice?

He took a mental note of Tayla, grin widening a bit more. At this point, everyone in the room had gotten the Vampire's Knock. His hand slipped up to back Eve off, clearing his throat as he pulled the stole away from his neck. With purpose, he wrapped the cloth around the gun in his waistband before stepping forward toward Kali. His steps were slow, intensional in their stride as he purposefully positioned himself to block off everyone else. The truth was, he didn't want to bump and grind against Kali's field: He was all too familiar with Mimicry and what it could do, like the garlic farmer's house. Nothing there for him.
Yet, here he was, still gently rubbing an old nerve. It seemed to be dead at this point, however... Not that he hadn't expected ol' Chameleon to have the same weak points as he did back in the day. Regardless, he wanted to isolate the man from the group enough that he could get his point across. So, with the gun wrapped in cloth, he stepped into headbutting range of Kali and held it up for him to take. He didn't want anyone else in the room in that moment: Only them.
"You really wanna help these people? Help us? You'll fly back to Quantico, or whatever pit they keep your unnatural ass in, and you'll make up a big fucking story about how you didn't see shit, you didn't hear shit, you didn't find a fucking thing in St. Portwell. Now take your gun and fuck off."
Thoughtlessly, Edict dropped the gun and sniffed slightly as he nodded at Kali. Then, with a flurry, he spun on his heels.

He was good for a moment until he got to the rear where he could start to get to the door... And then something magical happened: Britney Williams...
Every tendril he had out, every little feeler he had released, it all came rushing back to him. Her hair, her smooth dark skin; the way she walked alone brought back a hundred memories of watching her with pure love in his heart. The retraction was only for a moment, but coming to the full realization that she was there triggered an emotional response. The big pink flower unfurled again, and everyone would feel him wash over them again.
"Brit?"

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Leon Richoux

"I'm no Hunter. I'm a guard; a Warden."

_______________________________________________ Leon Hunter Richoux He/Him/Himself | 29 | French/Irish American | 6'8" | 300lbs _______________________________________________ Fighting _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "Don't huff and puff at something you won't blow down." ___________________________________ [+] Mountain Man ⫻ Sometimes you meet a family, they look normal enough; then a freakshow saunters in and you wonder whose Uncle descended from their troll hide in the hills. Turns out its a kid, and all you can wonder is what the FUCK they're feeding this shaved bigfoot. Leon started putting on muscle and height at an early age, and has since come to subscribe to the ideal that one's body is a temple; and his is a citadel. His job consists of fitness and health, and his lifestyle has been built around maintaining that for as long as he can remember. The Legacy of King Gravity ⫻ "Gravity" Richoux was Leon's Father: A world class boxer, trainer, and heir to the Richoux clan's powerful Orange Lux lineage. Leon has followed the example in every way possible, turning whatever he couldn't into a signature flair all his own. Indomitable Will ⫻ The capacity for strength of mind is of utmost necessity for those who wield the Tiger's Courage. You have to have a capacity for it even before you awaken, so of course Leon would be tenacious and unwavering in the face of whatever adversity is in front of him. Unflinching ⫻ Thanks in no small part to Leon's Iron Will, he can be quite the stone faced killer if need be. Not only undeterred by threats, he is rarely pushed into action of any kind without a great deal of patient consideration beforehand. This makes his recent actions especially worrying for his friends and allies. Natural Learning ⫻ Leon's not traditionally smart; his time spent learning has always been hands on and by the seat of his pants. There's a great deal of history, even about his own family, that he doesn't know. But, that has never stopped him from developing a biting wit or a fantastic knack for working with his hands. Instruments, mechanics, fighting; he just takes to it like a fish to water. St. Portwell's Own ⫻ Being his Father's son, Leon has continued the fighting tradition and risen to the heights of World Champion in his weight class. He's recognized well around St. Portwell, and to a lot of Blinds in the community, he's something of a local pillar.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Why worry too much about shit that gets blood on it?" Leon is a mountain of a man standing just under seven feet tall. At his size, the natural bulk of a human is enough to cause a great deal of attention to be drawn to them, and in this case Leon has only done more to draw eyes. His fair tone skin is covered in tattoos from his hands to his pelvis, some having to do with his profession and career, others being symbolic to his family and their history or even local imagery with nods to his underground life. Prominently on his right pectoral is the Richoux clan's crest: A tower shield backing a deer in forward picture, a crown atop its head. A set of lions in the bottom right hold up small suns in their paws. Aside from the ink, Leon is fit as hell. With his job mostly consisting of eating and training for fights, he has as much time as he wants to focus on his physique. He keeps his hair long, usually tying it in some various form of bun in the gym, then letting his full mane flow otherwise. His hands are crooked, broken knuckles and scar tissue pushing the fingers into different directions than intended, but they still close into massive hamhock fists that large piston arms carry with ease. His face is surprisingly clean for a pro boxer, notably absent of the same kind of severe scarring one can expect from being drilled in the face so often. Leon was raised in the Wicca tradition, and both Lord Gravity and the Lady Hunter were dedicated not only to the faith, but to the aesthetic of their kindred spirits. As such, the tall and majestic young man came to mirror the look, going for a mix of traditional gothic aesthetic with the punk and grunge Oregon and the North-West are known for. Even his own ring gimmick is modeled after the preferred look: Lots of black, lots of plaid patterns and toque hats or cloaks and capes in the colder climates. Warmer climates see him in tank tops and ripped jeans with undone laces. Occasionally, for some sort of event or banquet, he'll dress up in one of a couple specially tailored outfits that are more reminiscent of a European Count or Baron than a boxer. In private, it's usually something much more casual; gym wear like a pair of sweat pants and t-shirts.

_{Psychology
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"I know what I'm meant to do."

MAIN GOAL ⫻ While resigned to the idea that he's aberrant, Leon's resolved long ago that he would protect and defend his family's legacy, eventually passing the Richoux Tomes down to a worthy Orange Lux successor. To him, this doesn't just mean making sure the books are kept safe and that the Gym stays open. It's about trusting that his Father, may His soul rest in peace, had a reason to move his family to St. Portwell. His whole life, Leon had been told by his Father that this was a special place; a nexus of spirituality and magic that would one day be an Eden that the Enlightened would walk in peace and freedom. To that end, Leon has hope that a renewed Sycamore Tree Coven will be able to dispel the dark cloud that has befallen St. Portwell and grant those who have paid for the safety of the city with their lives a peaceful rest.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ As a man who has his goals and aspirations set in stone, Leon has a pragmatic philosophy when it comes to life and the way its lived. Oftentimes, concessions must be made in order to broker peace. For that reason, he's a man who knows what sort of compromises need to be made, playing for the long game as best one without vision into the future can hope to. His Father, a truly monumental figure in Leon's eyes, taught him of chivalry and of religion in its most basic moral format; that there are lessons one can take from any "Holy" teaching, and that these lessons can and should be applied to one's life in order to find the center where "right" and "wrong" actually live. Important to remember, Leon is an idealist: At the end of the day, he's seeking paradise within his lifetime, and while very few things drive him to conflict outside of his profession, he's not afraid to step into the fray should his plans be threatened.

SECRETS ⫻ While many of the Coven's members may know about his Aberration and the conditions under which he was initially afflicted, very few know that there is an artifact that can be used to quell and regulate his powers should the need arise. Fewer still know that the holder of that artifact is Daisy Hunter; the recently missing right hand of deceased Coven Matron Ashley Stone. Even fewer still know about their low-key companionship, or the long nights that were spent trying to keep Leon from howling at the moon like a deranged psychopath. The two had done a lot of work on suppressing and adjoining Leon's Aberration, flare ups now only coming at the brightest of full moons that St. Portwell had to offer.
There was little opportunity for Leon to test the waters of his skills, and as such he's taken on another life entirely: stalking the night streets as something of a comic book vigilante. To date, he's told nobody about his limit testing, but he's sure some people know; after all, how many seven foot tall "invincible" men are out in St. Portwell breaking bikers with their own bikes?

SEXUALITY ⫻ Legendary. Despite all his high moral standing and idealistic view of the world around him, he's only human. Sex is a vice, and he's happy to lend his talent and physique to anyone involved.

FEARS ⫻ Like other Aberrants, there's always the fear that one may not be in control of their fate, or even themselves, from day to day. Living life as a host is a blessing for some, those who need guidance or companionship in a strong and ever present way. For others like him, the idea of having one's ambitions and dreams and goals all ripped away because the ghost inside your head decided that time is up isn't just an idea; it's a real threat that Leon deals with every time he has to use his powers for any reason. Because of this ever-present threat, Leon has come to a point where his greatest fear isn't will it take me, but rather when will it take me. His greatest hope is that by then, Paradise will have already come to St. Portwell, and he can live among the other wolves in peace knowing he left things in good hands.

REPUTATION IN OLD COVEN ⫻ Obviously, nobody loves a moral grandstander; but back in the day, Leon was a lot less sure of what his vision was going to be. He was a giant who had just come into the muscle and capacity of a man's body moving toward the end of pubescence. Still idealistic, however, he imagined that the Coven would be an organization that would grow with its members as they became a force for good in the North Western US. To this effort, he did his absolute best to be everyone's rock. However, his Aberrancy event and subsequent rampage left Coven members just as dead as if a stranger had killed them: From there, the effected mourned and processed. Some of them came to understand and accept that Leon had nothing to do with it in the way of responsibility. But, others still hold him accountable, citing his cocky attitude and hero complex for the main reasons why their loved ones were ever put at risk at all.

ROLE IN THE BATTLE AGAINST THE STYGIAN SNAKE ⫻ From the start, Daisy Hunter was sure to include Leon in the plans for the Sycamore Tree Coven. While technically an outsider, he quickly proved that his father's training and hard work with him was no joke. From there, Leon was considered one of the Coven's main enforcers, his strong grasp on the family Lux being a boon for others who were just coming into their own. During the battle itself, Leon was the Sword where others were the shield. Working in close conjunction with many of the more supportive Luxes, Leon used his Orange Lux and natural strength to use their powers in ways that would maximize the effects of his own devistating cannon fists.

FLAWS ⫻ Besides cursory sins of the flesh, simple lust and occasional gluttony, Leon has a habit of projecting his wants and needs onto others. While at surface level this seems like a "him" problem, it very quickly becomes an everyone problem. The closer one is aligned to Leon's way of thinking, the harder he makes it for that individual to have any sort of conflicting feelings and emotions. Eventually, he's unable to separate the individual's ideals and dreams from their actions and real feelings, leaving him either dedicated to someone with all of his being or so disappointed and disgusted with them that he can't continue a friendship. He's terrible at reading people, terrible at subtle investigation, and literally cannot be stealthy as he is a tower of a man: Nobody in St. Portwell or abroad could ever be tricked into thinking that this vampire looking giant was anyone other than Leon Richoux. And, to top it off, being Leon's friend on the night of a full moon is like petsitting a druglord's imported hippopotamus after it got into the product stashed in its pond: Risky business without protection.

_{Backstory
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"I'm happy it was me dealing with it: I can't imagine someone else having to."

Leon Hunter was born into the Richoux Clan, whose roots take them from French Canada to the southern French territories of Louisiana before bringing them all the way back to Versailles in the French Mainland. Their family has a noble Adept lineage, traditionally as recipients of Orange Lux who specialize in augmented pugilism and bare handed fighting. In the tradition, Leon's Father Maxwell was at one point a world champion heavyweight boxer. Nicknamed "Gravity" Richoux, he was well known for his commanding presence and raw power in the ring. He was an upstanding man, a master of Orange Lux, and a traditionalist who had kept rituals and practices from his family's long heritage passed down through historic records called the Richoux Tomes. Alongside fellow Adept and wife Lynette Hunter, these tomes form the backbone of the teachings for The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals; a Portland based temple run by Lynette herself. Of course Blinds get a watered down version, but having raised all five children with what Gravity had always called "the good stuff", Leon and his four younger siblings have all experienced awakenings in their own ways. Of the five Richoux, only Leon has developed Orange Lux, leaving him as the true heir to his family's legacy. As such, Leon spent an inordinate amount of time with and around his Father, being homeschooled for two years after awakening to his abilities in order to teach him how to utilize and suppress his powers without impulsivity.
It was then that Leon learned how dangerous their way of life and the world they knew beyond the mundane was. The fact that his father could punch holes in car doors and rip concrete from the ground with his hands didn't escape the scrutiny of a child's imagination. But, thankfully, Leon was born a fairly serious child. Mature enough to understand that what he had inside him was a weapon, he submitted to his Father's instruction and dedicated most of his time to learning and cultivating himself into what his Father constantly called "A Responsible Man." Once Gravity believed his son was fit to return to society, he allowed him to do so; the young and slightly awkward twelve year old Leon returned to public school for the eighth grade where he quickly integrated with some of the more alternative cliques around school. Distant relatives, like Daisy Hunter, would help to ease the transition as things became more normal for Leon, and he would eventually broaden his horizons after participating in the local highschool's football team in his freshman and sophomore years.

Leon continued to participate in sports and various other social activities while training under his Father, living an extremely active lifestyle into his junior year when tragedy struck. While overseas on a fighting tour, Gravity Richoux became involved in a situation involving a local paranormal group. Though there was little evidence in the case, Gravity Richoux has been missing now for 12 years, and is assumed dead. At the time, it was an awful thing for the entire family to be going through, and with their youngest child at age seven, Lynette was left alone to defend her husband's bloodline and lineage as the Stygian Snake's fog rolled across the city of St. Portwell: The Richoux's perceived Eden. With things slowly but surely ramping up around them, Leon was approached by Ashley Stone and his cousin Daisy about joining a cult of their own: A group of young Adepts in defense of St. Portwell against the Stygian Snake. Knowing its what his Father would've done, Leon dove headlong into life among the Sycamore Tree Coven, and with his Mother's blessing he began to use his powerful Lux to aid in the fights to come.
As they received new members, Leon was often the first individual to set rules and boundaries for people to follow, trying his best to convince people like Ashley and Daisy to structure and organize things like how his own family did, he often had something of a superiority complex, often forcing his way into a role of enforcer that would try to straighten troubled people out. Most ending up on the other end of such a treatment ignored Leon at best, or grew to hate him for the superior way he acted. The plight of an old soul, his mother always claimed. But, time passed as the Coven grew in strength and numbers until that fateful day when they were able to seal the Stygian Snake beneath the Sycamore tree, banishing the thought from their minds in a bid to protect the resting place forever. Many left from there, but Leon remained: At age nineteen, he had foregone higher education and a normal life to defend St. Portwell, and the only thing left for him to do was remain as its stalwart guardian.

Six months later, an incident occurred which led to the discovery of a new Apparition stalking the streets of St. Portwell. Similar to Today's problem with Father Wolf, Lady Lelou seemed to be targeting weak or isolated coven or ex coven members, brutally killing them for no apparent rhyme or reason. Eventually, a small team of the Coven's elite met to stop it, at which it made its plans known: Find an avatar worthy of its strength from the Sycamore Tree Coven, and use that body to find and release its Master: The Stygian Snake. In a desperate attempt to stop it, Leon gave every bit of strength and energy he had, which played right into its trap. As with the others it had attacked, Lady Lelou attempted to hijack Leon's physical form and paranormal strength to use as a vessel for itself.
Had he not been so quick to act, or perhaps if they had retreated to gather more forces, Leon may not have dove headlong into a fight with the embodiment of the Werewolf Mythos of the North Western US. If he hadn't been so confident from their fight with the Stygian Snake to begin with, maybe he would've felt less compelled to action... But Leon knew himself better than anyone else: He knew he had to protect St. Portwell, and he was convinced that it had to be done then and there. So, his claim is that he intentionally allowed himself to be possessed. Regardless of his motivation, at first things seemed successful for Lady Lelou. With a howl, the massive wolf-like creature sulked into the forests surrounding St. Portwell after killing most of the other members who had gathered to stop it.

Daisy Hunter entreated her cousin, Leon's Mother, to assist with her Black Lux in sealing Lady Lelou, saving not only Leon but the early safety of the Sycamore Tree itself. Fighting a war of wills within his body kept Lady Lelou from accomplishing her plan, and before she could break him down completely, Lynette and Daisy Hunter worked together to trap the Apparition within Leon. It was by his own Lux that the framework of entrapping lattices was built sturdy enough to house the prisoner, leaving Leon entirely cut off from his precious ancestral Lux that had once made him so confident and capable.
From there, he had to essentially restart his life. Working closely with Daisy, who had volunteered to bind with the Channeler responsible for controlling Leon in the most dire circumstances, and having gone through dozens of "Leash Breaks" and Full Moon events, the two were able to get Leon back into a state where he felt comfortable and capable of carrying out his self perceived duties as Warden of St. Portwell. This didn't do much for the Coven, however, as not only were they splitting at the seams, but incidents like Leon's rampages often just left more people dead, meaning more loss and more pain for all involved. Eventually, he had to watch Ashley and Daisy end things.

With his siblings growing and his Mother moving the Temple to St. Portwell as a support faction for the Coven, it was here that Leon was encouraged to do more for himself. His Mother convinced him to get into the circuits his Father had danced through, and having kept St. Portwell's Gravity Gym open as his personal business, Leon knew he could still perform in the ring. So, at 21, Leon made his debut in the world of Boxing, claiming his father's legacy and catching an upwind of publicity that put him face first into fights no amateur should've gotten.
But he proved himself, and since then he's been working his way up the ladder, winning titles at home and abroad while always coming back home to keep his promise to his Father: To protect and defend St. Portwell, and to bring paradise to their home. For several years, these trends continued upward with the promise of good times for all involved. The gym picked back up after Leon was able to bring notoriety to it with his fighting, his eldest sister was heading an investigation into their Father's unsolved disappearance in Denmark, and Leon assumed that one day soon he'd be able to settle down himself.

But now with Ashley dead, Daisy missing and Father Wolf unaccounted for, Leon has to get his hands dirty in St. Portwell's underbelly. Since the incidents started, he's been undercover (as undercover as a giant man can be), hunting around for any information as to where his friend is or where the Channeler responsible for controlling his powers is, as until that's found, there's an equal risk to Sycamore Coven members lurking in their very ranks. For Auri Auclair, it was easy to track the man down... And he was on board the moment she asked him to return to the coven.

_{Abstraction
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"I hate the claws, they make it difficult to ball a fist."

TYPE ⫻ Adjoined Aberration

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Lady Lelou is an apparition of feral instinct which first attempted to take over Leon before being Sealed, allowing for the two to become Adjoined.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Lady Lelou is a prisoner trapped in the very body and soul of the individual she chose to take as an avatar in the battle against the Stygian Snake. A complex array of seals act as a set of gates and locks that give both the Vessel and a specific Channeler the ability to redirect the prisoners vast stores of energy in order to empower the Vessel. There are five seals in total, each locking a different aspect of Lady Lelou's power within Leon. While all five aspects are sealed, Leon experiences a generally comfortable upper level of unnatural strength, stamina and endurance.
Due to the complicated nature of the process by which these limitations are built and broken, among other factors discussed later on in the limitations, Leon has a very specific methodology when accessing Lady Lelou's powers beyond his every day base level.

• Earth: The Earth seal is responsible for Lady Lelou's physical presence in the Shimmer. For Leon, this aspect is associated with stamina and endurance.
• Air: The Air seal contains Lady Lelou's powerful sensory and extrasensory abilities. When applied, this aspect imbues Leon with heightened senses and speed.
• Water: The Water seal houses Lady Lelou's vital energies. When drawn from, Leon pulls directly from the sealed Apparition's life force to revitalize, rejuvenate and ultimately transform himself.
• Fire: The Fire seal guards Lady Lelou's hatred and hunger. Utilized in strengthening his attacks through physical and metaphysical means, this energy has the self explanatory drawback of Beastial Rage that Leon has little control over.
• Spirit: The Spirit seal guards Lady Lelou's connection to the energy of its Apparitional Belief. This energy sources the paranormal abilities of the Apparition in addition to translating the other energies into a form processable by Leon's physical body.

Disciplines ⫻ With five seals to draw from, Leon is something like a pressure control supervisor for a nuclear power plant. In his trial and error study of his abilities, he's come to familiarize himself with the different benefits and drawbacks that each seal presents. Some seals should always be opened sequentially, some sequences should never be made: Daisy had been present for these limit tests, utilizing the Channeler dedicated to the Sealing Ritual they had performed. Together, the two came up with the idea of the Disciplines: Different combinations of seals released at different levels which seem to have consistent short term benefits for Leon. Ways to "release the beast" without inviting it out of its cage and back into their world.
There are a great deal of factors that go into the order in which seals are released, and the Disciplines themselves are noted both in Leon's head as a lexicon of spell-like commands, but in the head of his "Master", who holds the Channeler able to repair and control the seals from the outside.

LIMITS ⫻ Above all else, the balancing act required to function above his base level requires a great deal of skill and focus to utilize without causing permanent damage to Leon's body. Loosening them too quickly, or overdrawing from any one particular seal, can cause a catastrophic failure of the entire array that sends Leon into a spiral toward Abscission and ultimately Abomination. However, Leon can't afford to be too slow about utilizing his abilities, as the moment that the Water seal is loosened, the energy requirement for his physical body to continue functioning rises exponentially as the beings begin to merge and feed from one another. As such, Leon has a maximum of a few minutes at a time to utilize his abilities before having to tighten the seals and return to his baseline state. Utilizing his unique "Disciplines” to stretch the energy out as long as possible still only yields a record of five minutes and thirty seven seconds of strenuous usage: a time ended by a broken seal that left him comatose for several days as repairs were made.
To speak of repairs to the seal array, one must mention the fact that there is, essentially, a controller that exists. If someone who was not the "Master" of the Channeler linked to the seal array was to get ahold of it, they would have access to Leon's entire life. They could lock the seals fully, trapping Lady Lelou away in the deepest part of Leon's soul, removing his power fully. Or, perhaps more sinisterly, they could release Lady Lelou back into Shimmer, forcing the destruction of Leon's physical life in the process of bringing about a new dark age for St. Portwell.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ (DO NOT FILL THIS OUT, I WILL PROVIDE IT FOR YOU)

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"I'm the Big Bad fucking Wolf, and my only Father is Gravity. "

RIP Peter Steele my beloved. You helped a little goth kid through some of the worst times in his life.
Fun Facts:

• The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals is a cult.
• Richoux is French for Ricwulf, translated as Powerful Wolf in Germanic origins.
• Leon plays in a band called DECENT EXPOSURE, a St. Portwell "Supergroup" which is something of a social club for musicians, with members rotating in and out with their involvement in the St. Portwell music scene.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Edict

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Mentions: Finn Reid, Auri Auclair, Alizée Altieri Kali Mahendra, Drake Blackmore, Jack Hawthorne, Everleigh Thorn | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Flowers and Canvases

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Edict was quick to notice Finn join the party, eyes flicking up and seeing a facial structure that had pain in the ass written in big fat letters across the forehead. It wasn't the guy's fault necessarily, and more often than not Edict found him amicable if not a good natured person.
It was his power that became tenuous. The fact that at any time, if there was someone who was going to feel him peeling the thin pink layers back to get to the soft and squishy gray matter beneath the skull, it was going to be fucking Finn Reid. But, he wasn't doing anything just yet. No need to worry so long as he could just get through this meeting and find a weakling to isolate and cozy up to. For now, he had to stick it out, and he glanced up one last time at Finn as the man waddled slightly away from the door to catch the last bits of what was going on.

People seemed to be hooked into whatever premise Auclair was spinning until someone decided to interrupt the party wholesale. Fucking Feds, if you needed something important interrupted, you could always count on them. Weddings, graduations; they seemed attracted to large gatherings like moths to the flame and always barged in with more gusto than sense. But, beyond all the usual contention and general distaste he had for Government police and their secretive practices, this moment was a truly mixed bag. Mixed as in, on the one hand he was rarely worried about Feds; his businesses were legit and most of his money required little to no washing to get it into circulation. He was, for all intents and purposes, a legit man on the up and up in the eyes of ninety nine percent of society.
But, on the other hand, this man was no normal Fed. Not only was he vaguely unhinged and in desperate need of an anchoring point for reality, but he was... Well... Bad news. Hyper Empathy to the point of intrusion and understanding on a scale that made Edict's entire mentality quiver in fear.

Kali Mahendra. At first, Greyson had thought the kid was just enthusiastic. Maybe a little spectrum based, but even back then Greyson was well aware that few people avoided God's funny little quirk stick. But it was all precursor emotion to realizing the bug that Kali lived with. His little glitch in the system. The two were close at first: Kali didn't seem to be concerned with the group's general perception of Greyson, and in turn the young gangster was happy to let the other boy tag along. He'd treated him well, started seeing himself in him even...
That was the problem, eventually. Kali's unique situation became more like a strain, and while Greyson had imagined a world where the ability was utilized as a final gambit to protect himself, ultimately he couldn't bring himself to stare into the dark that long. The way their powers interacted wasn't ideal, and in the end Greyson had isolated himself from his "friend" entirely.

Now he was announcing himself as a federal agent, and Edict knew that it would be as easy for the man to see through his act as it was for the younger man to see through him then... They hired a fucking abomination to hunt him and every other below the bar freakshow around. Edict's hand slowly crept toward where he'd usually keep his pistol, mostly out of reactive fear, but found only an empty holster. He'd left the gun at the apartment, not wanting to go hot when Lord knew there may have been someone blessed with the ability to smell copper jacketed ten millimeter ammunition and fucking gun oil... You just never know, after all.
But, all his comfort was broken. No longer did he feel like he could hide behind the stole and collar, even if it was a thin veil to begin with. It was nothing now. Just a liar, bare and in the open at risk from a force he couldn't stop and couldn't control. As Auri took Kali away, Edict was quick to follow Alizée's example, standing up and taking a deep breath.

"Now, I'm not saying that Judas and I were close when I was here last or anything, but..."
Edict paused for a moment, an ironic thought flashing across his mind. He pulled the Jim Jones style sunglasses from his pocket, fidgeting with them in his hands as he walked toward the front of the gathering.
"-I feel like out of anyone here, he'd be expecting to see me. So, how about a little faith in Father Devola, huh?"
Edict's eyes rotated like stone sculptures in their sockets. One could practically hear them grinding like millstones as they slowly and steadily panned between people. His smile was, to his best effort, sincere and genuine. He held his arms out to his sides, almost like Jesus without the nails.
"How about it, Drake? Wanna come with? Keep an eye on me just like ol-"

Jack, out of nowhere, landed on the scene. So typical. Edict's mouth was still wide open in his attempt to ingratiate himself, but closed as he spun his torso to see the person coming in.
"Oh, Mister Timeless... Just planning a trip to the local strip club, Jacky Boy! You in?"
Edict spun back to wiggle his eyebrows at Drake, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes with a grin.
"Now you can't even use gas money as an excuse!"

And then the pileup at the door got just a little deeper... No sooner had he opened his mouth to fuck with Drake a little more, another cling cling rang the door bell of the shop. A puff of blonde hair, a face beat half purple: Plenty of people got into trouble like that around SP, but this one was here with them now. He probably would've missed her if she hadn't spoken up, using Finn's stature to hide behind ever so slightly. But the voice was unmistakable. He'd heard that same too-cocky tone for years. He didn't even have to try hard to recognize her.
"All my Stars, little Miss Thorn? No shot... Everleigh? You look..."
Edict visibly cringed.
"Great. Just great. Love what you've done with the bruising."

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

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