AtomicEmperor

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

The relations look awesome, Blizz and Nori. :)

And can I just say what a thrill it was to work on this most recent collab with Ghost, Blizz and Atomic? One of the best collaborations I've had the pleasure of working on in the past 10 years.

Here's to more.

@Estylwen

Thank you for your own wonderful contribution, and to you for giving us something to fight over. :D

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Hider

Leon and Edict

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Mentions: The Whole Damn Crew | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Reclaimed Church Raid

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Leon had a slight warning before all hell broke loose: Thanks to Lelou, his dogged senses were always going to be a cut above normal, even among Adepts. Canines, as he understood, could hear things up to a quarter of a mile away. Maybe without much clarity, but voices existing in the surrounding were well within his range. The group all talking muffled things a bit, so he wasn't sure exactly what he was hearing. Lyss Burns and, of all people who he hadn't expected to see back, Anya Baksh tried to address him. He was totally ignorant of it as his hightened senses provided him with a painfully annoying experience. He was trying to parse out and separate every sound, attempting as hard as humanly possible to focus directly on the door that he and Edict had just come through. Listlessly, his body naturally gravitated through the windows. New scents filled the air; or, not so new? He recognized some, no, most of them.

They were fresh in his mind. Something about the mixing of smells was just so visceral that it almost paralyzed Leon. They weren't local scents: He figured after taking the time to sit in that parking lot before trying to rescue Alizee would let him be familiar with them all. He could smell Everleigh, Britney, Linqian; easy picks after he'd been in the car with them. But, Brit wasn't there? Stormy too... But, new people who werent there threw his nose off, and now other smells. He stood at the bay window near the entrance like a scene from an alien movie; the main character is nervous to look out the window and see the horrifying creature staring back, yet compelled to it as if the curiosity couldn't be prevented. So close... The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, curling Leon's stomach as his nose worked overtime trying to square up with what his ears were hearing.

Shuffling, clicking and clacking of metal. Preparation. He could almost see a shadow against the blinds of the window as Nakala readied the launcher. Then, everything froze. For what seemed like an eternity to Leon, he had the chance to consider that life was a truly funny thing. Edict had just gotten done accusing him of being a federal agent, and now... Now he heard the shuffling of boots scaling the outside wall, the rustling and shuffling of firearms and bullet proof vests, the telltale hiss that a gasmask gave off as you pulled the tab for the filter to start cleaning the air.
It's a fucking raid!
And it was far too late for the revelation. His body tensed as he heard the slow sound of a trigger being pulled. Again, that grinding metal noise as the action pulled forward and drove the firing pin into the primer of whatever casing was in the barrel. It sounded heavy to Leon, probably not a rifle or some other small arm.

All Lady Lelou could do in her own infinitely slower perception of time was scream and writhe in her tiny padded cell within Leon. But his minds eye, shared between the two of them, gave her a constant option to accaust him within micromoments.
"UNLEASH ME OR DIE!"
He didn't really argue with her. Not as the moments passed by and the light of the explosion coming from outside began to bow the window in toward him. With the half a second he had left, he began the process of letting the seals loosen up for the process of potentially regenerating a great deal of flesh and tissue in case this thing hit him in the face...

Which, it did. As the tear gas canister slammed its way through the window, the trajectory put it in a direct pathway toward Leon's dumb neanderthal forehead. The sound of the knock against the bone cavity was like a drum that punctuated the PRA's door kicking activities. The canister, having bounced off Leon's slanted plate of a skull, completely changed direction as it spiraled up toward the ceiling. It bounced off a rafter, hitting some hanging cloth tapestry which clung to it and forced a near vertical drop. As it clattered to the floor, the canister split slightly, causing pressure to force a second stream of the gas out into the room for a thicker blanketed fog.

Leon, unable to draw forth from Lelou's strength in time, blacked out as his brain rattled harder than any man had ever managed to punch him. For a short moment, pure willpower kept him from falling over flat as he tried his damnedest to force the primary transformation... But it wasn't to be. Like a castle wall crumbling from underneath itself, Leon's legs gave out and he hit the floor like a bag full of sand.

---

Edict was fuming from the interaction outside. Leon had basically bowled over him, the prick, and now here he was at a meeting he didn't even want to attend in the first place. What was having a network of spies for if he still had to attend these fucking meetings? And now he was buzzing in with those Temple stiffs, no better than Federal behavior as far as he was concerned. Even if he was telling the truth, it was a truth he didn't want to hear about or listen to. Big fucker! Edict smoothed his waistband where the holster of his gun was, trying to calm down as he scanned across the large room.
He immediately spotted Linqian, who was looking haggard and pissy as usual... But he knew what she was really feeling. It probably wasn't good: Since Leon and he were both supposed to walk back to her new legitimate car, he figured he'd offer her another bump. Hell, maybe try to get a night out of it for himself, reroute them back to his place as opposed to her going home to be crabby about her brothers and her small life. Vague guilt crept into his heart, and on instinct he hunted around for Britney, who he didn't see. Nothing to be worried about...

Anya Baksh addressed Leon and him, and while Edict couldn't keep his eye of the Big Guy staring at the windows, he was a bit elated to see another Pink Adept. The connection was rare for him, but the Mistress of Dreams had popped into his own dreams on a rare occasion, always somewhat untouchable. He smiled at her and waved, making sure he kept his sunglasses held up on his forehead by way of his hat.
"Good to see you again, Sis. Did you ever get that email I sent about the uh... The whole 'psychic ba-"
The window smashed as Edict was staring at it. Wholesale, it exploded, shattered, and a metal canister the size of a soda can drove itself so hard against Leon's head that Edict audibly echoed a groan of sympathy toward the Jolly Giant before he crumbled to the floor like a wet paper mache house. His eyes trailed up with the canister as it spewed a colorless mist up toward the ceiling and spattered across the wood and cloth of the upper rafters. Its clamorous fall and subsequent smash off the hard tile floor of the aisle busted the thin metal shell open in a second place, causing more gas than necessary to spew from its guts.

Edict was standing pretty much in range of it when it hit the floor, passing over his eyes and face to almost instantly blind him and force him to his knees with a lack of oxygen. Thankfully, by the time he hit the floor, the little thing was spewing in a different direction than his face, because it probably would've instantly blinded him for good. As he hit the floor, the sunglasses on his forehead slumped down onto his eyes. He instantly began channeling upon himself, focusing several Power Words at once to bolster his mind and block out the neurological receptors to pain.
His Emotional Field collapsed in on itself several times, each time etching a different portion of the Command String until he was running on just about nothing. He could only vaguely see shapes, but he kept a crystal clear image of the last thing he saw before the door came off its hinges, and he didn't like it. Body armor, guns... His tendrils reached out in real time, no longer caring about who or what he was knocking on. He was looking for friendlies, any clearly recognizable Emotional Fields he could feel. The many tendrils of the Lotus' roots acted as connectors to each and every one who he recognized as a Coven member.

He'd learned a bit of a technique to broadcast subliminal messaging: It worked much better against those without Emotional Fields, but even here he knew the effect would be strong enough that he'd be able to use it as a budget form of telepathy.
Across each and every Coven member, new or old, a set of images were broadcast into their minds. They played out like a moving picture book as the signals scattered across the Fields.
A pink lotus burst forth, with the word "SCATTER" painted across its surface in thick, densely burning flames that quickly consumed the message and left them with one last image: Edict's own point of view, the last things he saw before things went down. The canister hitting Leon's head, flying up into the rafters, hitting the floor... And then something else. The blurry vision of Edict's one hand lashing out and grabbing the canister. The other swipes a lit cigarette lighter through the thick foggy gas on the floor, while the canister flies from his grip up toward the ceiling.

A violent fireball followed the tear gas, and Edict's illusion broke when he had to refocus himself and make for a senseless sprint toward where he remembered the last window was. He couldn't see, he couldn't smell, and he couldn't breathe: But he couldn't feel any of it. Once he got some fresh air, most of the problems would be manageable, and he'd be able to hit the ground running... All it took was the bomb to give him the chance. He sprinted his numb body toward the edge of the room and smashed himself through the pane of glass full send. Somewhere in the middle of that, the fireball trailing up toward the canister hanging in the middle of the air finally met its own source, and the canister itself exploded into an even bigger and more caustic ball of flames that ate into the spray from before.
The hanging cloth ignited in a magnificent pattern that happily consumed the old wood rafter beams like a hungry termite demon. Cobwebs, dust of twenty years that the previous owners neglected to clean, errant insulation sticking through the shoddy wood slats: Each little component caught ablaze like tinder in the flame. Within an instant, the entire roof of the church was ablaze with fires that danced across old wood beams and crawled into the walls above.

Edict wasn't there for that. He only hoped that anyone else able to take advantage of the distraction did the same thing he did and followed his advice. Still, his Command String of Power Words kept him practically blind and numb. He hit the ground outside hard, hair and clothes covered in glass shards and broken wood. He pushed up off the ground into a pile of glass, ripping his numb hands apart without a care as he sprinted toward what looked to his limited sight like a clear opening. There was a dumpster or something to his left, so he tried to avoid it and slipped right.
Next thing he knew, he felt hot lightning in his right ass cheek as two darts zipped through his jeans and made purchase in flesh. Fifty thousand volts of electricity pumped his nervous system and utterly shattered his Command Line. All of a sudden, all the pain rushed back and he hit the ground in a heap.

"Oh, motherfucker! Fucking fucks! Fucking fucking fuck fuck FUCK"
Edict's body instinctively curled into the fetal position like a cooked shrimp as his eyes once more burned from the residual chemicals.
In that moment, he hated every single member of the Sycamore Tree Coven. Every single one of them deserved what was about to happen next, whether they were the rat who sold them out or some freak on a different cult's leash. He thought about the picture that hung over the desk of his office. "Lumber Day". A vast Sycamore tree being chopped down at the base, countless axes burried in its trunk. He wasn't here to get hit like this... And Leon had been the one who convinced him to come today. Convenient, but... He remembered that Kali hadn't been there as he tried to take deep breaths.

He felt hands on his wrists and a boot in his back. So much for the great escape... Wrong fucking window.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Two more Temple members for some SHENNANIGANS!

NPC Furio Natale

Furio.Natale

49 | Furio Natale | He/Him

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"You stink to High Heaven with guilt and lies."

Description:

Furio Natale was born in Brooklyn, New York. In a family of ten children, Furio is the eldest boy and would be patriarch of his family. Were there any left, of course. At the age of fifteen, he willingly participated in the execution of his Father at the behest of a local Crime Boss. In the insuing emotional situation, Furio's awakening to his Red Lux was nothing short of destructive as every little bit of solid material was removed from the surrounding area. Consequently, the destruction of the building meant the death of his siblings, only two of which escaped their demise by virtue of being elsewhere.

The incident was first handled by Police, who obviously couldn't place blame on any one party for the freak accident, and handed over to L'église de la Nouvelle Lumière: The Church of New Light. Typical practice in the area set the French cult up as defenders of the people and scions of the unseen world. It's with these people that Furio found a life outside of his propensity for criminal action, and an outlet to help him understand and control the raging power within. As a young man, he met Maxwell Richoux, and would eventually go on to become one of the champ's closest allies and bodyguards.

Maxwell Richoux once described Furio as "Purposeful Power", and Furio himself has admitted that beyond the constant sparring and fighting alongside his companions like Maxwell, he was trained as a young boy by some of New York's finest hitmen. He cites his criminal eyes and beyond stern demeanor as reasoning behind the supposed interest in his person, and he's often telling tall tales about his constant fighting and escaping from Mafioso members even as far from it as sleepy St. Portwell. Nowadays, he spends his time as Leon's God-Father, and the main security advisor to Lynette and the Richoux family. Together with his wife Clarissa, they form the Temple's premiere strike team working at the bleeding edge of the Temple's goals for St. Portwell.

Abstraction:

Furio is a Red Lux Adept whose Channeler is a ruby cufflink.
Magnetomic: Furio's signature spell consists of directly targeting a small space and drilling a hole in solid material by forcing the atoms within the space to collapse into a tighter density.
Heavy Industry: His search to master nature's atomic principals have given way to a set of spells collected from his studies centering around synthesizing and controlling alchemical elements. In his comfortable range, Furio is able to synthesize the same elements as our own Sun, all the way up to Iron.

NPC Clarissa Natale

Clarissa.Natale

50 | Clarissa Natale | She/Her

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"Run all you like. This is fun for me."

Description:

Born Clarabel Hayworth, Clarissa grew up in a harsh environment where every day was spent expecting the worst. Her first word was "trouble", emphasized with a questioning tone and a shrug to match. It never seemed to effect her demeanor, growing into a chipper young woman who saught the peace and escape that she could. Her days were full of anticipation, more and more like a pressurized bottle waiting to burst until finally it did. In a manic breakdown, a young teenager broke into her local library and spent the night surrounded by a fort of books that came down in piles from the shelves above.

As the only individual present at her own Awakening, she chooses to keep the secret of what happened that night as just that; another secret in a long line of mistique that eventually led her into the arms of The Church of New Light. Like her Husband, Clarissa arrived as an acolyte seeking control over her own abilities, as they had grown to plague her every day lifestyle and ability to maintain her sanity. What her teachers and advisors found was a young woman trapped in a cycle of accidental realmwalking that required a great deal of studying before being fully understood.

In those days, another newcomer to the cult was Lynette Hunter, who Clarissa would come to form a friendship with based on their mutual desire for privacy and a joined desire for peace and tranquility among mankind. This makes Lynette's prophecies of New Eden especially tantilizing to Clarissa, who has since dedicated herself to making such peace by any means necessary. Using her unique realm shifting ability, honed by the Richoux's scholars for many years, she has served as a pivotal member of Lynette's personal inner circle. Alongside her husband Furio, the two form the Temple's premiere strike team, keeping a constant vigil on their burgeoning garden and pruning anything deemed necessary by their arch gardener.

Abstraction:

Clarissa is a Purple Lux Adept whose Channeler is a .38 snubnose revolver.
Hijack: Clarissa's primarily developed spell allows her to detect and utilize the residual energy of magical entities crossing between realms. Under her control, this residual energy can be used to reopen the crack previously made by the entity, allowing a small number of individuals to follow through the gap uninhibited.
Danse Macabre: Beyond her affinity for sniffing out and reusing other Purple Lux user's portals, Clarissa is well studied in short range teleportation techniques. Specifically, the spell she's developed consists of mirror portals. Summoning one doesn't do anything, but in pairs or larger groups these portals can be walked between seamlessly. The portals do not directly correlate to one another, and as such the location from which you immerge after entering can seem random, but any strong aura reading White Lux user would be able to tell that the portals are constantly swapping their partners in a deadly dance.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Hider

Leon and Edict

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Mentions: Linqian Han, Britney Williams | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals (Pre-Meetup) > Reclaimed Church Meeting

---

Edict's foot feathered the clutch as he slowed down for the cul-de-sac loop. The usual suspects were out and about it seemed, and this quaint little campus tucked away in the middle of bumfuck nowhere St. Portwell looked more like a goth college than any sort of place for the study of magic. Edict remembered coming here once or twice as a teen, the allure of the mystique and the possibility of easy fleece made it a tantilizing place to a young guy looking to make his bones and impress his family. He learned real quick that it wasn't a place to steal from, and it sure as shit wasn't a place he wanted to be around any longer than he had to. The strangest part was that it looked the exact same; Edict thought he even recognized some leaves and branches from back then. The exact same patterns, like something held the place still as time passed. It was kind of freaky.

He pulled up to the front door, pulling the emergency break and putting the thing in park. He left it idling in the assumption that things here wouldn't be long, but as he got out and was approached by one of the rogue youths, he was pleasently surprised.
"I'll park it for you, Sir."
Sir? Edict instantly grinned, his emotion seeking tendrils instantly blossoming the pink lotus as he hoped to catch a bite of mundane prey. Instantly he remembered why he didn't come here: The young man's shimmering Emotional Field was tight and smooth, like a fresh wrap on a car fender. Nary a flaw nor weak entryway could be found, but the smile and the stare hung a little too long, and Edict cleared his throat before nodding.
"Well, that's just great isn't it? Church with a valet?"
Edict waved his hand forward, ushering the teen into his car before shaking his head out of sight and heading up toward the chapel steps. A middle aged man, dressed in all black like everyone around seemed to be, was waiting in the path by the time he looked up.

"Devola, I presume?" his voice struck Edict with a sense of de ja vu that he had to think about for an instant. He... He sounded like his Father. The accent.
"Yeah, here for Leon Richoux. Problem?" Edict replied, trying his best to mimic the accent subtly, without it sounding unnatural. Like he had grown up there his whole life even though he'd only rarely visited New York.
"Yeah, maybe. You gonna keep your hands to yourself? We know you around here; your name is in our Book... And you're rippling. Capiche?"
Rippling? The fuck does that mean? Edict half cocked a smile and nodded his head.
"Hey, listen... I'm just here to talk with Leon, we're supposed to be doing this thing y'know, maybe you ain't hear about people dyin' and shit?"
The man's face went from disinterested to confrontational in an instant.
"Oh, we know the Death around here Bambi. I ain't on about that, balls-in-hand. I just told you I felt you using your powers here on Temple ground. You're like a fucking loudspeaker, you and that pink saccharin shit. Stow it."

Edict bit up on his bottom lip slightly, letting air pass through in a small squeak as he made it a point to give the man a staredown. He was in their house, and if he'd learned anything in his years of business, it was that you acquiesce while in the territory of foreign powers. He was the stranger here, even if he was a "family friend".
"Alright, you have my word, and my apologies."
The man guarding the Temple steps took a deep breath, nodded, and finally stepped aside to let Edict into the building. It' have to be more subtle in the future; he just hadn't expected some detector to be sniffing the front of the building. Fucking rat. But Edict continued on into the chapel with a smile regardless. He was hopefully going to see that faint memory of a woman while he was here, and even if he didn't it was nice to catch up with Leon. He genuinely liked the guy despite how ecclectic he was: They had matching tastes for life. The desire to be, and to fulfill expectations of one's surrounding characters, connected their motivations in a way that a lot of other things couldn't. Or maybe Edict was just starstruck... He'd idolized boxers as a kid, and he loved seeing Leon's father Gravity at his own gym. He wasn't allowed in at that age, so he would just sit and watch from the windows outside. A real nostalgic thought for Edict to chew on as he looked around the room.

There was a lady there with blonde hair and black robes. She was presiding over some younger teens; it looked like a sunday school lecture that broke off into the middle of the week, but he assumed it was quite literally a school session. Amazing what you're allowed to homeschool these days. He heard her bubbly voice and listened in for a moment, immediately being transported to easier days. Before the awakening and the snake, the Coven that pushed him away, before he knew what a gangster was or that his father was a complicated man.
A massive man broke his concentration, and Edict's head spun toward Leon's towering stature.
"Woah, tall dark and beefy! There he is, the man of orange and gold himself... How's shit Leon?"

Leon, who had been sleeping here at the Temple since the whole Father Wolf business started, was fresh from the shower with a full meal to go in his hand. Breakfast was a cholesterol bomb, heavy in animal fat and carbohydrates to ensure that he had plenty of energy to burn. A pound of rice, six porterhouse steaks sliced into strips, four avocados, a bag of plums and a massive water bottle full of Lord knows what rested in Leon's massive hands.
"It's bulking season, so... Just eating my days away."
"Don't give me that. You need it to fight now, what's the problem?"
Leon laughed and shook his head, thinking about the current situation and what would have to be done next to insure that people stayed honest and fair. They were in a delicate world now, and he'd given up surefire strength in the interest of the greater good. Now he was an unreliable bombshell who had to compensate like this, and it was clear to others who observed him. No doubt about it, he couldn't even eat around the others. Everything they'd had was dead, and he was ready for them to go back to wherever the fuck they came from before things in St. Portwell got worse.
"Y'know a few people died last night, right?"

Edict feigned surprise, his head tilting and mouth opening in sad shock.
"What!? What happened, Leon?"
Leon couldn't prove it, but he knew that this guy never didn't know what was up. Even in cities that he had nothing to do with, he always seemed to have some sort of gossip or advice that a local would have: Three years prior, Leon had been in Romania to fight some Baltic boxers in a charity thing, and who was there but Edict Devola, world traveler and supposed clean businessman.
"Don't bullshit me and I won't bullshit you, Devola, we're not kids."
Edict waved a hand, finally standing and patting Leon on the bicep.
"I have no clue what you mean, Leon. Whose dead, what happened?"
Leon gritted his teeth behind closed lips, a deep breath of air pulling through his enormous lungs. Finally he shook his head and looked across the chapel toward the blonde woman teaching her heart out.

"Clarissa?"
She stopped instantly, looking up.
"Yes Leon?"
"It's time to go."
Leon's hands were tied, but he very clearly indicated the door with his eyes and head. The woman responded quickly, wrapping things up to the chagrin of her pupils before she made her way past them and out the door. Edict looked confused.
"I'm in a two seater, so..."
"You thought you were driving? I can barely fit in sports cars, you think I'm gonna bring my breakfast into a cab I can barely sit in? We gotta bring Linqian a new vehicle anyway, so we'll just go over in that."
"Oh you, me and your wet nurse?"
Leon laughed in Edict's face.
"That wet nurse would invert you in an instant."
"I'd let her invert something of mine, that's for sure."

Edict smiled, satisfied with his crude joke until he looked up at Leon with that same grin and saw a mountain ogre staring back at him with intent. His face said it was a joke, but he didn't verbalize for fear of pushing Leon over the hill. The same expression ushered Edict out of the building and back down the steps. The same middle aged guy from before was waiting, and handed Edict his keys once they were close enough. A new Toyota sedan pulled up front, allowing the four people to pile into it before they started to drive off back into St. Portwell.

While Leon and Edict were being driven toward the meetup location, the fill-in conversation took place. Edict was actually shocked at the amount of nothing Leon managed to experience in his time trying to save that chick, but it was at least interesting to hear the tale now from two different perspectives. Leon had a bit more information about the state of things at least: That St. Portwell had once again become something of a nexus of Adepts and magical beings from beyond the Third Eye. Leon himself, between massive bites of rice and steak, admitted that his Mother had been keeping a very close eye on the burgeoning covens of St. Portwell as they developed, and had been working on resource managing for some plants to be inserted among them. He always said things without thinking around Edict, despite knowing full well that it was dangerous to do so... But the way Leon saw it was that Edict would know sooner or later, and if they could symbiotically assist one another he wanted that arrangement available as long as possible.

Leon managed to eat the entire tower of tupperware bowls. He and the man in the front seat, who Edict came to know as a man called Furio, joked around a bit about something that Edict had no clue about. Some sort of Apparition, he gathered, but they kept referring to it in the same way he'd heard "friends" be referred to before they were whacked. For a moment he was beyond uncomfortable, feeling the end of a Mobster's life playing out before him. They pulled into the park's lot and saw the myriad of cars from different Coven members up and down the block, and Leon recognized Britney's car from the night before. As they exited the vehicle, another car pulled up alongside them with one more Temple member in it, whom Edict assumed was the ride home for the other two and, possibly, them when everything was over. Edict was still dressed like a hipster, and had managed the beanie hat at some point between meeting Linqian and arriving at the Temple. Leon was wearing generic clothing, assuming that the niceties were over and that war could be around any corner in the city.

"You uh... Strapped?" Leon looked down at Edict, the thought of defending themselves crossing his mind.
Edict heard the question, but wasn't sure about where it was coming from.
"Huh? Strapped?"
Edict's sunglasses flipped down onto the bridge of his nose, blocking out the pale Autumn sunlight. He flashed a sly grin at Leon. "Why you gotta know if I have a gun or not?"
"We should be ready to protect ourselves, Edict."
Oh, it was business... Edict knew the difference in tone and intent in the usage of a different name. He recognized and reciprocated.

"Yes, Timberwolf. I am strapped as you say. Why, are we expecting things to go south again?"
"I don't know, Man, it could! I have no fucking clue after last night's shitshow, but I don't want us getting caught off guard like that ever again."
Edict put his hands in the air just enough to ward him off. The two men crossed the street, Edict checking his phone for any updates as Leon turned his head and spoke into his sleeve.
"Test, test, test."
"Clear."
Edict heard, and didn't react. It was a backup team... Leon wasn't playing around. He stowed his phone, and the two of them made for the path through the park toward the pagoda they were supposed to meet at. When they got there, only signs of what had been remained. Leon ground his teeth; he'd made them late. Without hesitation, he began the slow process of opening his seals before Edict patted his chest and interrupted him.
"Hey, here. Shoeprints in the grass heading off toward Aleo. A group that big can't move without some kind of trace."

Leon nodded, smiling slightly at the man's aptitude. He sauntered behind the bloodhound like man as Edict stared at the ground. So many footprints, and the hum of auras compiling into a big warm beacon for a moth to clamber toward. Those paying attention could probably feel Edict's tendrils trying to search them out before they could even come close to seeing him, the slithering pink oozing its way between alleys and fences. He took a deep breath, smiling as his feet locked him into a path headed for the fun. It was another few minutes before they got to the metal gate, but by then Leon knew where they were going as well.
"What in the Hell..."
"What?" Edict was genuinely curious about a reaction like that.
"Not sure what we're doing over here. It's supposed to be like, an abandoned Church. Recently abandoned too... Fuck, Auri! We're adults, we don't need to be hanging out on bank owned property without permission!"
Edict kept his mouth shut, shaking his head. That girl was all hot air and no lift. The two of them continued together down the road until the Church's front doors were visible. From the distance, Leon could see familiar white hair shuffling about at the door. His jaw dropped when he saw the violet portal opening up and she stepped into it.

"Furio, VL on the move. Probable Purple influence."
Leon didn't even bother covering for the radio call. Nor did he care if Edict knew he was bugged at this point.
"Shit, Leon are you a fucking Fed?"
Edict stopped in his tracks, his hand lashing out and grabbing Leon's forearm. His free hand instinctively reached for his gun, but Leon pulled away.
"Fed? Federal Agent? No, you fucking Goombah, it's for the Temple! You think they're not going to help us get out of this mess?"
Edict was incredulous, but let go of the man's arm at the fear that a few rounds of 10mm may not actually put the giant down before he could rearrange Edict's face.
"So, what?"
"Come on, lets just go. We need to see what's going on, I need to-"
Leon pushed ahead, breaking off into a jog that Edict had to run to keep up with. Fucking giraffe legs.

Of course the wolfman hit the door first, swinging it open to find the gathering spread out among the pews of the church. Oddly familiar setting compared to where he had come from. Edict was hot on his heels, following in behind in a huff as Leon pushed into the room.
"Who the Hell is teleporting around here!?" he barked, pretty much interrupting everything he could.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Hider

Leon and Lynette

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Mentions: Linqian Han, Britney Williams, Everleigh Thorne, Alizee Altiere | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals

---

Leon's expression softened as things drew to a conclusion. How could he ever explain to her that he understood what her problem was, but couldn't do anything to fix it? He didn't even want it to be this way in the first place, and no matter what she wanted to say, he still wanted to help. Whether she thought he was some sort of wretch or pup, it didn't really matter with a man so confident in his own position. To him, she was labeled a child now, and he'd treat her as such by no longer dignifying her tantrum. Britney's final question hung for a moment before Lynette stepped forward. The keeper of the massive tome smashed it shut, leaving the blank white cover to stare at them. Within a few moments, Lynette stood beside her son with a gentle expression.
"You're both entitled to your own actions, and I pray they are justified by good fortune. As for poor Alizee, she'll be interred beneath the soil as all of our adherents are. The ceremony will be three days from now, and while I expect that the three of you ladies will have no interest in attending, you're all welcomed. The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals maintains a revolving door policy for all recognized Teeoh.-"
She paused for a second, seeing flashes of confusion.
"-Third Eye Open... Tee, E, Oh. Teeoh."

Leon didn't exactly know how she was feeling until she did that. That jeering little sarcastic explanation. Like they needed it, they were adults who could figure out what she meant or ignore her like he knew they wanted to. The body language, the snarky remarks about not needing their help. Leon stuck his hand in front of his mother, backing her off as her face turned from stoic regality to vague indignance.
"They're grown women, Ma... And they don't want to hear it, I don't think."
His arm pushed her back a bit further, and while the look of indignance toward her son remained, Lynette followed his motion and backed off. It gave Leon time to change his body language, turning intentionally to disclude the three Sycamore Tree members from any further interaction. His face looked up at Britney and a half-formed smile crawled across it.
"Thanks for the ride... And I'm sorry things got so fucked up. But, I think we're all tired. Cooler heads will prevail a different day, and we can talk about compensating whoever needs it without... All this." Leon finished by waving his hand about the creepy grandiosity of the Temple, the book, and the dozen or so people who were simply crowded around them staring at the proceedings. It was all unnecessary business that once again was ruined by his association with his family. As if he had to be ashamed for their practices and personal life any time someone was around.

Leon couldn't deny that it gave a bad image. America was full of cynical people; even ones who abjectly knew that the supernatural existed. He always assumed that if evidence was placed in front of an individual, they'd instantly accept reality. Ergo, if all of this crazy bullshit exists, of course God exists. And, of course he'd speak through a Channeler of his own.
The thought alone frustrated him beyond the point of talking, and he shook his head.
"Now, drive safe Ladies. Father Wolf's still out there..."
And in a final flourish, he turned his back on them. As if in lockstep, the various cult members shifted in practical unison. Each and every body turned a hundred and eighty degrees from where they'd been, and a low din of conversational French began to fill the room in a way that was clearly blocking these accepted outsiders from further interaction. Leon still kept an arm around his mother, and while they walked away the two began to argue in very serious tones despite the language barrier now present. It more or less filled in the dead air, even as they descended the stairs behind the pulpit and disappeared from view altogether. Linqian, Britney and Eve weren't just free to go: Rather, it's as if they weren't even there to begin with.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Hider

Leon and Lynette

---

Mentions: Linqian Han, Britney Williams, Everleigh Thorne, Alizee Altiere | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals

---

Personal investigation' before she... you know.

Leon spun in his seat trying to figure it all out when it was really just so simple. It all snapped into place, like he could hear his Father's voice in his head. She was just stressed... Just like everyone else, she was probably tense about what was going on. And, now that the concentration in the city was rising again, blowing off a little steam like she'd been known to before. Like him, she probably just wanted things to bottom out so that they could figure out just what the fuck was going on. It was all dumb. Poor Alizee had died over recklessness and complacency, and there was nothing he could do to bring her smile back. Another person taken from him, only this time it was a complete clusterfucking crossfire.

His massive hand climbed up to rub his chin as Leon turned his body.
"Personal investigation, I get. That's why I didn't bother going to Auri's little pow-wow; I had my own ideas about this Father Wolf from the jump."

She came, Then left soon as Kali said he was a fed. It was a whole thing. Eve here nearly shot him.

Leon turned a bit more to make sure his body language included her in the conversation. Any input at this point was better than none, and if she'd seen what happened there he was all ears.

I assume she went to Veni Vedi because Auri said she found a lead there.

Fair, he nodded along as she continued about what had happened thinking about the conversations the two of them had about possibilities prior to the big meeting.

Knowing Alizée she went in there causing a scene. Kinda her fault she died.

Alright, again fair but uncalled for. Leon bit his tongue to hold in the gut reaction, but he couldn't stop a scowl from spreading across his face as Linqian approached him and began to lay into him in front of at least a dozen followers, as well as the other Sycamore members.

Leon held his jaw clenched as Linqian spewed venom into his face until she finally pulled back and released his personal space from assault. Twenty years of meditation and deep breathing exercises for moments just like this... Leon ground his teeth together slightly, like rolling a piece of chewing gum between his molars, then nodded as the muscles in his face released their tension.
"Alright Linqian, good to see you too, first." he started, considering what he was about to say next very carefully.
"You've certainly not lost your skill at tearing someone down, especially in the worst places... Now, I broke your car? Well, you're not the only one, but tonight you'll be the only one who has the chance to scream at me for it, so congratulations."
Again, Leon paused as he closed his eyes just a moment longer than a blink before opening them again. Happy place, Leon. Happy place.
"Now, while you left St. Portwell after the Coven dissolved, Alizee didn't. And, amazingly, neither did I. No, see, we stayed because this place is home. But, people like you and your brother couldn't build good memories here. You left as soon as you could. So, while there were people here who gladly would have helped you, well... You weren't here to help. Now you walk into a place where someone who had deep and serious issues came to escape her problems and be with people who cared about her; and you look at my mother grieving over the loss of a beloved congregate and insult our practices that you know nothing about? Over dollar fucking bills? You're damn lucky that we're in the middle of a fucking crisis or-"

"Leon!"

Oh did her regal voice cut the room and Leon's trembling rage like a hot blade through soft butter. Visibly, Leon choked upon his words and turned back to see his mother standing at the pulpit in her place as Prophet. The sun beamed from her in his eyes, and a small tear welled up.
"Steel yourself. Your fury and defense are both unnecessary in the case... For all that brave little Coven did, each of your old companions are welcome here in our House and are counted among our extended family. As any family, she hurts with us and we shall not turn her away... Young Lady, I encourage you to place your name and information in the Book of Registry, that we may deliver unto you the recompense that you deserve. Medical expenses and transportation necessities will be provided for without question. The same can be extended to any of the Sycamore Tree Coven's many disparate members."
Lynette's voice was firm and commanding, as if she was making a complete guarantee and unwilling to leave a shred of doubt in their minds that she was genuine.
"Though, we do... Well... Sonnenrad's Remnants are not exactly the first people we'd like ourselves associated with, perhaps it's a necessary evil. Now, please... Register and be recognized as one of the most charming and graceful."
A woman from the group of onlookers broke away and came back rolling a special cart that had a massive tome of truly old paper. Even now, fresh names were being added to the entry columns, each with addresses and contact information. An archaic practice, but the only official way the Temple handled any kind of membership cursory or otherwise. In front of the book, an inkwell held a quill pen waiting for takers to jot their names down.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

<Snipped quote by Atrophy>

It's been seven long years...

@FernStone

I remember Under the Sycamore Tree...

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Hider

Leon

---

Mentions: Cyril Noctis, Alizee Altiere, Judas Bennet, Valjean Vasil | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Veni Vidi Veni Parking lot

---

There was a level of strength in the scorpion beast before him that Leon wished he could keep up with. A stable, cooperative transformation was something he just couldn't have. Whether regret or envy filled him at that moment, he couldn't tell; it was a pang that radiated back into his third eye, drawn into the seal in that mirror again. He stared at the thrashing beast before him as the fire slowly fell from his singed and burned body. It was his own stamina, his own ability to handle more. She just wanted out, wanted to burst from the corpse like a black hole from a collapsed star. She had plenty of heat left for him, but he couldn't give it a great deal longer.
He couldn't make purchase on the hot top, claws crumbling up the tar and opening furrows like plowed fields across the parking lot before Valjean used his own momentum to fling him back toward the disparate groups scattered before the Wolf Pack. It was only then that the eyes were drawn to the massive pile of sand. All the noise, all the magic in the air, it was overload on the beast's senses: But sight did not lie. As his eyes focused, the manifestation of the Void he'd come so used to seeing, so intuitively fearful of it's capacity, that he shuddered to think what had gotten it so riled up. Netting captured him, slowed him, brought him back down to the ground. But he couldn't release his eyes, his ears, his entire focus, it all fell upon the struggle.

The sand. The Void Light.

Fifteen seconds.

The skin of his willpower sloughed from the bones involved and dribbled down his body like molten lead leaving little mounds of itself beneath his feet. It burned so badly, but he pushed it to the last possible second. There was a flash of metal, a hand with a threat. The beastial senses could hear the microscopic noise of the trigger's metal grinding and grinding. Rather than re-engage the scorpion, every bit of the physical form drove itself toward the incoming shots, and the exertion instantly turned fifteen seconds into no time at all. He smelled the hazy stench of the Void Light, the sulfur in the gunpowder as the bullet made its rush out of the barrel of the gun.
Too little, too late. The last bullet chipped through his claw and upper index finger as his lanky hand attempted to scoop the supersonic pucks of metal from the sky. He couldn't. Not with all of the no strength he had left... It had been a mistake to try and get her out of the situation; immediately he knew that he should've remained there steadfast with Alizée and the Sycamores. The last bit of fire crept from his body, and in mid-air as he dove past Cyril's fate, he reached the impasse he always came to with Lelou. Everything that was left of him wasn't enough to maintain the transformation, not enough to hold onto the power of Lady Lelou in any meaningful way. It was now that he was weakest, and the only solution was to begin breaking the seals piece by piece. He'd let her out then, let her back into St. Portwell, back into the burgeoning garden he wished to tend.

The Void Light exploded in its fury, and as Leon collapsed upon the ground, the false structure began to burn away and curl up into the sky to roil about in the Void's darkness. By the time it was over, a near naked Leon laid in a rotten puddle of tar from which he weakly stood. The chaos hadn't stopped, but he... He couldn't compete here. Not now. In that moment he felt a wave of hatred curl over him, his head swiveling back to witness the continued madness when...
Green. A washing wave of invigoration that finally hit him at the very edge of its field. Cells devoid of nutrients and energy inflated thick with lifeblood, and all of Leon's senses drove his gaze to the source. For a moment, he was confused as he felt energy filling the blank pool of his Seals again. Eyes trailed back again, slowly passing the Void Light took its final wrenching climb into the darkness with Alizée's murderer in tow. He wanted to scream and rage, to beg forgiveness from an entity whom he had come to respect in a sick way. He knew that thing cared about its host, and that they were so much more in sync than he was with Lelou. Finally, his eyes turned back to look at Alizée again. Her beautiful pale face looked at peace, serine in her death as the bullets crept from healing flesh.

He knelt down seeing the process occur, waiting for her breath to begin again as his hand gripped into hers.
"A-ali? Mon compagnon... No, no... No, no, no..."
It wasn't coming back. It wasn't coming. Blood wasn't pumping, breath wasn't drawing, and the Void Light was gone. She was gone. For a second, Leon took a deep breath.

"You failed. Not enough people holding your fucking hand, and what? We lose it? The whole plan?"
He heard his mother's voice in his head loud as day. He'd managed to get rid of all her papers, yet there she was still stuffed into his ear. It wasn't real... It was-
"She'd say that. I'd say I'm disappointed we're not killing for her."
"If you'd cooperate-"
"It's done... For now."
This was new. There'd been no other time in which the two entities harbored within the single body were able to come to an agreement, but Lelou was not blind. She'd get something out of this, of course, but Leon would too. Some kind of revenge. Some release.

As the conflict drew to a head with the arrival of Judas and his beasts, as the battlefield came to a screeching hault, Leon knelt by his companion's side stiff as a statue, the energies inside him gathering and gathering.
"No, no... We can't..."
"What!? Explain yourself."
"It's not over. It won't be over. Lelou... I beg you here and now, save this. Please, save the rage and the pain. Keep it, brew with it, but right now we'll do more good completing the initial objective. I... I can't risk her getting hurt any further."
"She's DEAD Leon! Fool! Moron! You may as well eat her for the extra ener-"
Leon removed himself completely from his internal dialogue, closing every bar and gate he could possibly close to cut Lelou from furthering her interactions. Crossing that line, the line where union may be possible, was a dangerous path when the apparition was as cunning and evil as Lady Lelou. An impulse of pleasure could easily lead someone down the path of destruction, and he had a legacy to carry. Alizee or anyone else, none would keep him from destiny. He knew the right move had always been trying to remove her from this situation, and it was only his hunger for battle spurred by Lelou that kept him emotionally involved.

His arms scooped up under her, lifting her tiny frame up into the air. Her legs dangled limp at one side and he was careful to tuck her head into the crook of his arm to prevent it from the same dangling. His arms tightened, hugging around her one last time as tears began to fall silently from his eyes in long streams. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and began to step forward into the fray. It may surprise, or it may make Leon an open target, but he walked between it all in an attempt to once more take his leave from the hellscape that he'd witnessed the birth of. He'd not wanted this to begin with, but here he was carrying a friend away.
Whether or not he'd be stopped by some force outside his control, he didn't know. But, looking up at Judas Bennet, he knew that negotiation was off the table. His gaze passed to the line of shields and his old comrades behind them, and he scowled. Disorganized rabble, just like the old days. People died because they were fools, or didn't care about what was right. Impulsive children crawling into battle on their bellies. But the girl was gone. His personal charge, his personal inclination. What kind of sword and shield was he? What could he ever be for them? He shook his head, continuing to walk as if there was nothing happening but always expecting an interruption that would probably be more than painful. They'd not have the satisfaction of his retaliation.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Leon NPCS or: Ladies of the Temple

NPC Lynette Hunter-Richoux

Lynette.Hunter-Richoux

52 | Lynette Hunter-Richoux | She/Her

---

"The future is for people like us. They'll have their place in the badlands and the savage realms, and we will bask in the light of Eden."

Description:

Lynette was a (mostly) normal girl until she met the Richoux clan. Hailing from the Hunter family in the St. Portwell area, Lynette was bound to a small coven in upstate New York where she was able to freely study her abstraction among the company of skilled witches. Among them, another young witch named Annalise Richoux would quickly befriend the young Lynette, and the two would spend their weekends together in the civilized world of New York City among the gilded halls of the Richoux family estate. It was there she would, in her studious nature, begin to press upon the family's heritage and pry into whatever secrets her friend would give her to.
This would lead to her induction into L'église de la Nouvelle Lumière: The Church of New Light. She'd come from a sleepy place, and to hear the clan's philosophy as their bloodline stretched back through the sands of time, she became enraptured with the sensation that people like them; Adepts and the world outside the Blind were meant to hold great power in their hands. To wield it like a sword and a shield, and to use that power for fair good in the world. It was a lot for an impressionable nineteen year old.

Those days were the best for Lynette. Shortly after her first times with the Richoux clan, she met Maxwell; heir to the house whose boxing career was already shaping up to be a legendary affair. Eventually her presence in the Northern coven waned in favor of ringside seats and apparition hunting with her new family who quickly welcomed her intellect and skill to their retinue of globetrotting Hunters. Eventually the two became inseparable, living and working closely with one another until the inevitable came. Lynette took the family name, submitting herself entirely to the cause of the New Light and dedicating herself to the Richoux family in a way she never imagined she would. Her own family became secondary, and with her new position she began to cultivate followers of her own.
Shortly after the birth of their first son Leon, Lynette revealed that she had a vision as a child: She, and a million other children, gathered beneath the light of a burning tree so vast that it lit the nighttime sky like daylight and burned away their hair and clothes until nothing but the pureness of human youth remained. In the wake of the fire, the sun rose through the clouds of ash, and Eden grew around them from the dessicated Earth. Using prophetic text from the various works of New Light prophets and philosophers, she was supported by Maxwell in proclaiming herself as Prophet.

Maxwell saw fit to follow her lead, providing his family the ability to uproot from their New York roots to move back to the land this Prophet promised: St. Portwell. In order to avoid prodding eyes, her direct flock took a new name: The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals. From this, Lynette has been able to redistribute her family's ancient fortune into a chain of different locally owned businesses that allow the Temple to present community outreach and accrue new followers. Blind or not, donations are always necessary, and Lynette continues her various attempts to round up the disparate groups of Adepts scattered about St. Portwell in the hopes that one day her dreams will come true and Eden will reign in St. Portwell.
For Leon, she acts as an advisor when necessary, and a Pimp when it suits her. Leon is her bargaining chip; having taken to walking in his father's footsteps so closely, he serves her directly as a dog loyal to her vision as God's mouthpiece and his Matron. She tells him to show up at a local event, he does so without question. She tells him that a person is a threat to the Temple, he ensures they're stripped and flushed. In turn, she spoils him and pampers him as the Eldest child, praising him and his mastery over the beast imprisoned in his body.

Abstraction:

Lynette is a White Lux user whose Channeler is an old book of nursery rhymes.
Wallpaper: Writing a small poem upon a piece of paper allows Lynette to hear through it as if she were standing in that exact position. In turn, the paper can be applied to any flat surface and blend in seamlessly with its background, camouflaging it completely.

Peek Ahead: Lynette is able to take a small peek forward in time as one can do while reading a book. Essentially, Lynette frequently dreams of scenes and visions of everyday life, and can remember these dreams with incredible clarity for a long period of time. Ninety-nine percent of the time these visions are utterly worthless alone, but like any Prophet, Lynette has taught herself methods to "read the bones" and is able to interpret meaning where there may not actually be any.

NPC Mia Richoux

Mia.Richoux

21 | Mia Richoux | She/Her

---

"Oh I'll be sure to get on that right after, uh... Never."

Description:

Mia is the youngest of the five Richoux siblings. Leon's baby sister and the only other child left in the immediate St. Portwell area, Mia is more a trouble maker than she is any sort of scion of the Richoux clan. Far removed from the family responsibility, she had been her father's pretty little princess until his untimely disappearance. She's never gotten over it, and more or less lives in a position where not even her Mother bothers with much concern for the girl. Though still a practicing follower of the New Light, Mia enjoys perhaps the greatest privilege a member of their inner circle can: Full autonomy. She's been allowed to study as she's seen fit, allowed to make money how she pleased, had no push from her Mother toward a particularly beneficial path for the Temple.
Mia is free to be a hellion.

As such, she's done exactly what a depressed and listless individual does: Get sucked up into life in the city. Or, she would were it not for Leon. She had a few years where things were touch and go, hitching busses out to different states, dragging herself back home like a cat out in the rain after a few months only to get cagey and run away again. When she was arrested on her twentieth birthday somewhere outside Las Vegas, Leon made a promise to his Father's memory that he'd make sure it didn't end like that. Since then, he's done his best to keep her around and sober without stressing her and forcing her into things that she would reject.
It's been a project, but at least she's not out on the street doing whatever the fuck she was doing before. She even has a job that she likes; Leon hooked her up with a gig at a local smoke shop with the kind of crowd she enjoys. She's made connections with people who she left a long time ago, and the two of them have even started work on her Lux after it had been neglected for so long.

Now she's mostly a nuisance to Leon, as she's become extremely receptive to his resemblance to their missing Father in both physical appearance and outward attitude. Her fragile psyche has built a strong dependence on her elder brother's guidance and approval, though he hopes that one day her continued therapy and treatment will allow her to be dependent on herself. Despite the road bumps that occasionally come up, Leon is as devoted to his sister as he is his Mother, and the two share a bond that Leon hopes can ultimately help her heal.

Abstraction:

Mia is an Orange/White Lux user whose Channeler is a black beanie hat.
Toymaker: Utilizing both Orange and White, Mia is able to enchant items of her own creation. This enchantment allows her to inhabit these creations remotely, observing and controlling the object based on its typical function.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

@Estylwen
10 days mandatory mourning in the Temple over the passing of one of Eden's Chosen.