AtomicEmperor

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

@Estylwen
Reading through your post again...

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Mood Music

Leon

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Mentions: Ft. @Atrophy | Direct Dialogue: The Whole Toga-Conga | Location: Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

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Long legs strode toward raucous noise in the short distance, boot covered feet covered by half a night gown held at the waist by a belt. The top portion folded down, the limbs dangled behind him across the ground, and Leon was strutting with the might and poise of a circus ringleader as the pack of Greenwood members poured through the alleys of the festival. His ears, adjusting with the ethereal energy of Lady Lelou, began to pick out individual voices as they drew closer and closer with each extension and retraction of those tree trunk-like legs.

He didn't realize until then that he was smiling. Not just that, but widely, like a kid who knew a surprise party was coming but managed to hold it in all day until it had to be released. He heard people congregating and being jovial, and couldn't help but think to himself that it was just what the doctor ordered! No worrying about his siblings, or how Mom was feeling about things. Hell, she'd probably be just as likely to jump into some kind of cross-coven revelry if she were to see it, I mean... It was great news! Unity, cooperation, love and understanding under the banner of New Light in the dawn of Eden! He felt like Jesus, undaunted as he drove his body headlong toward the cross to absolve the sins of Adept-Kind.

Leon's mind imagined his Father's face as the words got louder and louder in his ears. The biggest man he'd ever known, a seven foot-two raven haired blue eyed Orange Lux powered juggernaut that was his Dad, cheering at him with veins in his neck buldging and those two massive hamhock fists balled up tightly. He was screaming it, fully in unison with the small crowd that had gathered up in that clearing between the midway and the Ferry Docks. He had true fun in his eyes and his voice as he shouted:

Toga, toga, toga-

The corner was coming soon. He'd be within visual range of them. It sounded like they were all facing him.

-Toga, TOGA-

Here it comes!

“TOGA TOGA TOGA TOGA!”

His massive frame burst from around the corner of a nearby booth, but Leon already knew who he was looking for. That goofy face he'd known for so long was staring back at him like the last day they'd seen one another. His eyes welled with pride to see the sight before him; the Maestro de Bacchanal, the Mardi Gras Mauler, the King of Keg Killing. He'd heard he was back in town, but frankly after they'd left off, Leon didn't want to come to Sully from the same moral high ground he'd stood on before. Before he had been slapped with the responsibility of Lady Lelou, Leon had been far more heavy-handed in his beliefs and opinions.
It was time to fix that. People were dying, and he never wanted to regret missing the Little Brother he chose rather than the little brothers he was given. As he joined in on the chant, he pointed directly at Sully.

“Dionysus, your Brother Ares wishes to REVEL!”

"Le..."

There was a moment of hesitation from Sully, impossible to tell if it was just drunken sluggardiness or something else, and then a toga was launched towards Leon.

"Yes brother! Come drink and make merry with us! Toga! Toga! Toga!"

"Hey, bro! You can squeeze in here," hollered Vashti, indicating to the space between herself and Emily.

Holy shit, that's seriously Vashti Nour and Emily G. Reed...

A deep part of Leon's body had already gripped ahold of him and his psyche... Or, it wasn't him.
"Warm blood and bone; flesh on flesh, my carnal beast. My pleasure cries for your attention, Leon... Indulge... Release me."

His flesh was at once riddled with goosebumps as he ripped at the cloth surrounding his body. The shirt split in two, the dates of his fight tour on the back fluttering to the ground as he began to wrap this long white cloth around himself in the fashion his father had taught him. As the cloth covered him and he slipped into the spot in front of the Bitch of St. Portwell herself, he gave the same inhuman strength over toward ripping his loose fitting nightgown out from under his belt along with the baggy burlap pants that went with the getup.
For a second, he'd accidentally exposed Emily to the entire harvest moon before he managed to tuck the toga between his ass and the belt above it, then settled into the motion of the Toga. His hand reached over Vashti, patting Drake on the shoulder.

"Fucking ZOOOOOOOS!" he shouted, raising his fist. "Toga! Toga! Toga! Toga!"

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Mood Music

Edict

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Mentions: The Toga Line | Direct Dialogue: Linqian Han/@FernStone, Britney Williams/@Punished GN, Layla Hyacinthus/@Estylwen | Location: Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

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They were walking just fine... Everything had been just fine! But she had to be a little snoop, she had to go taking a picture! Now she was getting roped into something that none of them had expected her to get roped into this close to the front of Cracker Town: A multi-coven Conga line! You know who banned conga lines? The Cuban government! Why, one may ask? Because more often than not the drunken lines would become disorderly moshes that almost always devolved into significantly more dangerous levels of chaos and violence depending on who was involved.
And right now, Leon was converging on the pack to be reunited among his drunken kinsmen in Sully McPherson and Drake fucking Blackmore. Jocks. The Jock Squad. His hand tensed on the release for his gun, imagining the instant and total devastation the magical bullets would wreak upon the half drunk and totally unaware cast of nimrods. Wasn't there a murderer on the loose? It was fine, he felt, that he didn't care: As long as it wasn't him, why would he ever care? Instead, the people who should've been most aware and alert were getting the most foolish.

A gaggle of other people were not far behind Leon, including Adora Phoenix-Prescott, whom he was almost sure was going to get into some kind of conflict with Linqian who was bound to start it.

He had to get her out of there.
But his head swiveled. Britney was there. It was going to be okay.
"Any ideas on how we get her out of this without getting sucked in?" he asked to one side at Layla, then the other at Sabrina and Britney. If it didn't end in an all-out war, he didn't know what the next move was; not even a little bit.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

300th IC Post celebration yaaaaaaay!

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Mood Music

Greenwood Coven

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Members: Everyone but Ruby! | Direct Dialogue: Leon, Elise and Mia Richoux, Adora Phoenix-Prescott/@Punished GN | Location: Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

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The Greenwood Coven, sans Ruby and Sully, marched through the grounds of the Historic District… choosing to part ways with the Blackmores, Sully, and Drake after whatever you would call that conga line. They decided to look for Ruby, whose phone suddenly went quiet after confirming that she was on the island. She was on the island all day but neglected to tell them that.

Classic ruby.

“... RUBY!”

Autumn shouted, cupping her hands together as she called again.

“... RUBY!”

One last time.

“... RUBY!”

“... Why are you tryna’ call Ruby like she’s some dog, girl?” James asked with a raised eyebrow, laughing.

“Yeah, we’d have better luck sparking up!” Naomi laughed.

“Sorry, don’t have any ass-flavored blunts on me,” Jess said, laughing her ass off.

“Let’s take this seriously,” Pearl said with a flat expression. “Ruby could be in trouble, we-”

“... Got outed,” Naomi and James said simultaneously, rolling their eyes. Then Naomi spoke,

“We know, we know…” Naomi shook her head.

“You’re acting as if everyone in this city would listen to a bunch of crazy bikers if they told them that a bunch of twenty-somethings are the Greenwood Coven,” James rolled his eyes, then laughed.

“Word spreads fast in St. Portwell; you all been in Greenwood long enough to know that,” Pearl said, shaking her head, “And I do not want-”

"... YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

The vociferous scream made all of Greenwood turn its head towards the scene, and saw some curvy black girl putting the whoopin on another.

“... Heh,” James chuckled before he patted Naomi on the shoulder, “It didn’t take long for people to start acting a fool!”

Naomi shook her head, “Girl needs to relax. They’re killin’ black folk out here like its nothing.” Then she sighed.

Greenwood watched the scene unfold… before two big motherfuckers came and broke up the fight. Separating the two girls like it was nothing, but the issue was not in the fact they broke up the scene - it was the fact they recognized Leon when he raised his little wolf mask.

“... It’s the Werewolf!” Jessica said.

“Ssssssh!” Naomi put a finger to her lips. “Let’s just...”

“Nah,” James grinned, “I think we should have a lil’ talk with Wolfman….”

“We are not starting a fight here, James,” Naomi narrowed her eyes.

James scoffed.

“... And who said anything about starting a fight?!” James laughed. “Let’s just… have a little friendly chit-chat.”

“It would behoove us to make amends,” Pearl answered. “Or attempt to get his… No, their side of the story.”

“Well, I’m chatting with him, ya’ll don’t gotta come,” James laughed as he watched Leon pull the gal away… and James grinned as he was the first to approach with his hands in his pockets. It seemed like the gal was explaining why she decided to go crazy and brain that poor gal. Not that James was listening, as it was simply none of his business. James stepped over and clapped his hands together as he said,

“Hey, Wolfman!” James started, “Wassup! We didn’t get to introduce ourselves, y’know!?”

He grinned, letting his words hang in the air.

“Better late than never, but never late is better!”

Leon was so distracted, he probably wouldn't notice someone trying to kill them until it was too late; someone would absolutely be dead by then. His nose and ears, his keenest senses, were full of smells and sounds from the festival.

Adora's complaints were serious enough that he was ready to go and start a problem with some Vanburens. Speaking ill of their dead Covenmates was unacceptable in his eyes, believing in the tradition of the Honored Dead. They earned their rest, and having people dig them up to throw their death in someone's face, metaphorically or otherwise, put you on Leon's shitlist as a disrespectful cockmuncher.

“Huh!?” He spun, hearing Wolfman said. “That's Granny to you, Mis-”
His head and body turned, he looked across the green and saw six, maybe eight faces. With their scents so close and his newfound focus, he instantly sussed their smells out.
Ruby came home. Amend yourself with her toy soldiers and follow the Philosophy.

Ruby was a pot smell to him, with certain unique characteristics that he could smell on every single one of them. It was definitely her pack.
There was even the buff redhead that Alizee had started everything over in the first place. Instinctively, Leon placed his massive body between Adora and the group.

“Oh, Greenwood, don't desert me now!” He yapped - with the Greenwood members attempting to shush him - not exactly squaring up for a fight so much as squaring up to receive some sort of thrashing from a parent. He pointed at Jess, looking at James as he spoke.
“Y'know the other night, I was drunk when everything started, I didn't recognize her. SunnyMuscleMommy, right?”

His eyes crossed each of them, and slowly he gave them a smile. His eyes met Jess’ specifically.
“I should've been quicker. Because of my state, you got hurt by a person I considered a sister. Now she's gone, so… I guess I'm the right man to take grievances with. So, what? Pound of flesh? Or can I make it up to you all some other way?”

His eyes became sad talking about Alizee. He'd always imagined they'd move past that stage, that if he could learn to live with Void Heart, maybe he'd be able to protect Alizee from the world outside as her man.
The shot was gone now. All he had left was repentance.

Jess walked over with her hands on her hips, and a smile on her face. “... Yep, that’s me.”

James couldn’t respond as he was getting stared down by Pearl, who rolled her eyes.

Jess reached into her holsters and pulled out her toy revolvers, each with an orange tip. She gave them a little twirl, “It’s all good… That whole thing was a giant shitshow, but you know what?” Jess shrugged.

“... It’s in the past now, pardner,”

“... Look, while it may be that deep, we ain’t that crazy,” Naomi stepped up, shaking her head. “I just wanna ask you why? Why did she attack Jess? That’s it.”

“Then we’re putting this behind us!” Jess shouted before she put her hands on her hips, “Agreed?”

Leon was somewhat eased by their claims. And if his Mother had been right, Ruby must've given them the same shit about reconciliation. In his mind, chances were good that despite the group gathering, there wasn't going to be any vicious jumping.

“Alright, agreed. But I don't think you'll like my answer anymore than I do, y'know?”
He took a deep breath thinking about her funeral, about dying for something so stupid.
“Frankly? Alizée, God rest her, was attached to a hungry fucking monster. The purple ballsack with the big hands?” He questioned, reaffirming their recognition of the players involved.

“That Apparition could've convinced her to hunt anyone; but that night she seemed fixated on some kind of lead. She was totally mistaken, and essentially acting out alone for some fucking reason.”
He grimaced, thinking about how stupid it all was.
“I'm glad you're still here though, uh… Jess, was it? I really didn't want you getting hurt, you didn't do anything. None of you did anything wrong. It was our fuckup. She was our fuckup.”

“It was a weird ass situation, I admit,” Jess said, throwing her arms behind her head. She then shrugged, saying, “But, I’m… just a little bit sorry for the gal.”

“Sounds like the Apparition was the one pulling the strings,” Naomi answered, shrugging, rolling her eyes. “Maybe I was too much of an asshole to ya’ll back then… That’s not much of an excuse tho’ because I’m attached to an Apparition. But he doesn’t tell me to hurt people!” She laughed.

“Regardless,” Pearl finally spoke after being done staring down James. “We agreed to put things behind us after his explanation. So we shall.”

“No hard feelings right, Granny…? Wolfman…? Whatever!” James asked with a shit-eating grin, “You gotta understand from our perspective, we weren’t tryna’ hurt you or interfere with your investigation… Right?”

“What was the lead… if you don’t mind me asking? She seemed to want to know what we were doing with the Wolfpack?” Autumn asked.

Leon grinned at the reactions, satisfied knowing that it was all a mistake, and in true Charming and Graceful style it could all be forgotten about.

“Honestly, fuck if I know at this point. I have some texts telling me that she was there because they all jumped to the conclusion that Judas was involved with a situation having to do with our Covenmates safety. My opinion is she was hungry, and figured the open season situation meant that she could get a free meal while being helpful by finding info.”

Leon's face really said it all; that he thought the whole thing was a pile of bullshit, and that nobody could possibly know what was going through Alizée's head at that point.

He looked around a bit more, deeply inhaling with his nose to search out a scent. Ruby's scent. That nose clogging pot smell. There was a gentle breeze that pulled it from the distance into his direction.
“Ruby's on her own? She probably never told you guys, but we know one another. Come on, come to my Family's booth. We'll get you all fed by the one and only Andrade Salamente.”

He turned to face Adora, stepping fully out of her way. “You gonna come too? By now my brother is probably walking away with your pal…”

”... I’ll come,” Adora lowly said, placing her hands in her face.

Leon turned his head to Greenwood.
“Oh, guys, this is Adora. Adora Phoenix-Prescott, Covensister of the Sycamore Tree, holder of the Trinity Ring-” Briefly causing Adora to shake her head. “-And I'm Leon Richoux: Heir to the New Light, I box under the name Timberwolf…” he smiled, waving them along.

“Ooooh, you’re also in Sycamore?” Naomi asked, chuckling. “You need to chill the fuck out! They killin’ black people out here!” She laughed.

”Y-yeah, I know…” Adora rubbed her opposite arm as she faced these people.

“I’m James! Don’t get a fancy title like Wolfman here!”

“Autumn,” She said, flicking her necklace.

“Naomi! Wielder of Anansi’s Gift!” She started with a smile, which turned flat after a moment. “... That was corny, wasn’t it?”

“Amelia…” She began. “Our fearless leader’s girlfriend.”

“Pearl,” She flatly answered. “The one that prevents our fearless leader from giving in to her intrusive thoughts… most of the time.”

“Kashmira Sarai! It is great to make friends with Sully’s friends!” She did a twirl in her saree.

“And I’m Jess! And we’re…” She said before she looked back at her people. “... The Greenwood Coven, we popped up sometime after you all did your little thing with the Danger Noodle.”

”Just how many Covens are there?” Adora raised an eyebrow.

“Well, other than Sycamore and us, there’s 8th Street!” Jess said, then laughed. “But there’s a new group of assholes calling themselves a Coven popping up each week in St. Portwell!”

“They’re assholes, so we don’t fuck with them!” Naomi said she laughed. “But let’s get to this booth already! Maybe our kooky leader will finally pop up!”

Leon nodded at Adora’s question.
“Jess’s right, there’s a lot of posers. Posturing and trying to find openings they’re not gonna find. We should check that shit out though; could be some upstart with delusions in their heads and magic on their cocks, killing us for the cred.”
He shuddered at the thought, a slight scowl on his face.
“But fuck that, it’s the Holy Harvest! Big Temple holiday, let's get this food. Maybe we can pull your fearless leader and that goofball Sully: Hit the Temple grounds and dance naked until sunup.”

He laughed, but he wasn’t joking. The tradition of circling under the harvest moon was very real, practiced since the times before when the New Light was an entirely Pagan affair. Never-the-less, he began to wave the group along, directing them toward the booth that was actually slowing down thankfully. He hated seeing his little sisters working that hard.

“Hey-ooooooo!”
Leon’s booming voice stopped the motion in the booth, Andrade spinning over his shoulder to see the big crowd now clumped up at the front with Leon at the head. His youngest sister Mia, looking haggard already, immediately turned to him and grabbed his costume by the collar.
“Oh, Lee-Lee, save me PLEASE!”
She was trying to climb up and over the counter, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and put her back where she belonged.
“Sssssstop that. No. Food, please, for our friends.”
Elise, the elder sister, looked up from her chopping.
“Oh, shit, those are Ruby’s friends, right?”
Leon’s face formed a scowl.
“Are you tracking me!?”
Elise just smiled at him, unwilling to tell him where their Mother had hid the note that she was spying on him through.
“Don’t think about it too hard. Here, menus!” the younger Mia exclaimed, taking a small stack of paper menus and handing it out while pointing above her at the boards that also had the menu on them.
Leon turned his head.
“It’s on us, by the way. Whatever you guys want.”

It was definitely fair food: kebabs and jollof rice, veggie wraps with mushroom and balsamic vinegar sauce, roasted chicken leg and sweet potato salad… Wait, this wasn’t fair food at all! Looking at the pickup line, the quality of food was definitely restaurant despite being served up on extra thick paper plates.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” James said with a grin, raising his fist up into the air.

“And here I was looking forward to some shitty carnival food…” Autumn laughed.

“Oh! What are your vegetarian options…?” Kashmira asked. “I don’t eat meat.”

Afterward, the group got some food. James got an entire roasted turkey leg. Naomi, Jess, and Autumn got some kebabs with rice - though Naomi got more rice. Pearl was happy to get some sweet potato salad. In contrast, Kashmira and Amelia got the veggie wraps.

“Thank you!” Kashmira said with a smile. “We appreciate your generosity and your willingness to resolve things peacefully.”

“And this goofball thought I was tryna’ start a fight!” James laughed as he jammed a thumb in Pearl’s direction - who rolled her eyes.

Adora didn’t order anything… simply stood there staring at the ground.

“She good?” James asked Leon, food in his mouth and jamming a thumb in Adora's direction.

Leon looked toward Adora and gave a small frown.
“I… I think she's worried? She beat up a Vanburen, she's probably worried about the consequences. Or, maybe, she's thinking about the dead and gone. I try not to bother people like Adora: She's a loyal Covenmate. In my opinion, she definitely earned her peace.”

“That was a Vanburen…?” Naomi awkwardly laughed.

“Yee-yikes!” Jess laughed.

This didn't, however, stop Leon from doing exactly what he said he wasn't going to. He, politely excusing himself from between happily eating members of Greenwood and standing in front of Adora.
“What's up? Not hungry?” He asked her simply, and as gently as he could muster

“I…” Adora tried to speak.

“... Oh my goodness, friend!” Kashmira shouted as she walked over. Then gestured to the bee stings up and down her legs. “What happened to your legs?!”

Leon’s eyes went wide, never even thinking about the idea that she had, in fact, been in a fight with a hive of bees on top of a rude woman.
“Oh, fuck, Adora!?”

“I-” Adora didn't get a chance to speak before Kashmira grabbed her wrist and she was wrapped in a green aura. All the stingers left in her flesh fell out as the stings, and their poison, disappeared.

Kashmira released her, smiling, before she said,

“That should be better, friend,”

“Yeah… Yeah, that feels so much better,” Adora said, “Thank you.”

Leon nearly squeezed Kashmira to death with a quick hug.
“Oh my stars, thank you! Adora, I’m sorry! I… I don’t even feel bee stings, I didn’t even think about them!”

“Oh you’r- gah! Welcome!” Kashmira barely choked out. “Please don’t squeeze any harder! I can feel my ribs touching my lungs!”

Leon let her go quickly, patting her on the head with a massive hand. As he did so, he was still sniffing around trying to find the owner for these lost children; Ruby was close enough that he could smell her, and releasing a small level of his Wind seal painted the air with scents that he could track on an individual basis.
There were deep subtleties in the process of sussing out what scents tracked and trailed and belonged to whom, but being among the group of Greenwood members gave him the chance to pinpoint things more accurately.

Slowly, surely, the air became full of colors that swept back and forth with the wind, each smell painted and correlated to the individual origin. From there, he found a common scent that they all seemed to carry that had nothing to do with their individual pheromone scents, and tracing it back and over the different booths, he was able to get a good idea of Ruby’s location.
He focused his magically enhanced hearing, following the scent trail until the cacophonous background faded, leaving him with a focused picture of what was happening.

People, at least ten, chanting Toga! like a bunch of goobers. He turned to James and pointed off into the distance.

“Ruby is uh… Somewhere near the midway, I can hear her having fun. You all want to go get her?” he asked simply to the bigger group, looking around to gauge reactions.

“I mean…” Naomi trailed off, “No one is talking about eating ass. For once it's peaceful!”

“Yeah, let’s make sure she’s alright… She sounds like she’s already high off her ass,” James mused.

Leon's towering frame waved his hand forward, ushering those who would follow onward, his other hand successfully stripping the top half of his costume down so his shirt was visible and his wolf mask no longer flopping around on his head. His massive arms were pale, almost clammy looking and hairless, but built with muscle so thick you'd think they were legs.
His veins were like roadmaps, the energy of Lelou pumping through his blood to turn it a sickly black as the pressure rose and caused them to bulge.

“Onward and upward, Extended Family! Let's go see the trouble!"

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Mood Music

Edict

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Mentions: Auri Auclair | Direct Dialogue: Linqian Han/@FernStone, Britney Williams/@Punished GN, Layla Hyacinthus/@Estylwen | Location: Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

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Edict listened to Britney and Linqian, letting them go on about things as he watched Layla's reaction. It almost made him smile how much more chipper she was, and he wanted her to remember this feeling while she had it. Because when it left, it was going to hurt, he could tell by the amount of work that went into making it happen. Frankly he was a bit tired now, and skipping out on having to use his 'little friend' meant he wasn't going to need to explain why he'd been carrying a piece like it around all night. He'd had people get upset before, realizing he'd had a gun in some strange contraption that they'd never expect poised and ready to fire away.
There was talk about the Feds, however, which did make him a bit sick. Irrationally, he hated them almost more than some of the Sycamore Leadership based on their sheer willingness to break an Omerta code he perceived between Adepts and Third-Eye Opens. That they were all in it together; that having associates outside of that bond was fine so long as you kept them in line, but when it came to one another it should be protect over detect. He definitely didn't want to stick around any longer than he had to if that meant dealing with them.

Suddenly, his new little buddy started to pop out of her shell. He instinctively grinned, recognizing the behavior from so many introverts and closed off people. People with fears and worries simply needed to be assuaged, their stresses often getting the better of them in strong, unmitigated ways. With a washing like what she'd been put through, fuck it was well within reach, and it seemed so simple to just reach out and take whatever they wanted once they were there.
“Here's my bid for the second one. Why not~?”
Edict's brow furrowed and he looked down at the twenty year-old woman. He had a vaguely father-like scowl on his face as his hand instantly wrenched two twenties from his pocket and nearly flung them forward.
"Ayyy, out-fuckin'-bidded over here, Jesus... You ain't old enough, I know that one for a fact. At least wait until we ain't in public where someone's gonna arrest us before you go open fisting a can of Miller in the middle of Ol' Cracker. Fuckin' Feds everywhere, Sis!" Greyson asserted, his other hand extending to lower Layla's as he smirked at her.
"But, sure. Sabrina's house it is. How's about we all hit the Ferry then. I'll have someone bring my car back into the city, and we'll wait at my Uncle's bar down the road from the docks while we wait."

Mentioning his Uncle's anything made him assume, after what had happened, that Linqian was going to be nervous. He'd stuffed the money into her bag and left the beer there for later, shrugging with the now empty hand.
"Ah, nobody's gonna be there. It's closed for the day, but I have the back door key. We can just hang, it'll be cool. You remember the Brick, Britney? We got sick drinking there together one night, slept in a booth; my cousin Roland came in the next day to prep and woke us up?" he grinned, a fond memory coming back to him. He figured with the privacy, they could even let poor Layla unwind a bit more with a few off-the-clock drinks.

Edict's head moved in a strange way for a split second, neck craning to catch a look past Britney's head and out into the festival in front of him. He could, through a couple of booths, make out Auri Auclair sitting at a booth with a glass of wine. Two guests. A woman and some figure cloaked in black...
Who the fuck?
This night was getting weird, and he was starting to feel cagey; like no matter where they looked, they were just going to find more and more characters that weren't going to be particularly warm or friendly to him. His mind split for a moment, like it was a decade ago that he felt just like this, standing there with a feeling like he was the odd man out of a bunch of groups of friends. Like the few years before were nothing.

But her face was there. She was there. Just like she had been, when everyone else had turned their backs on him, she was the last to leave. Left to turn out the lights, because they were both cast out for their willingness to win a war that literally had to be won. He hated to think that was the only reason she had stuck around, but he couldn't be sure. Still, it was okay; she was back. Back in his life for a small period of time before she'd eventually see through him again and run far far away.
Better you do, my Love. I won't chase you. Once we're safe...
He felt his Lux welling up in his throat and eyes, the tendrils of his spell making themselves as if they were their own creatures. He was too slow to stop it from reaching them all, its influence meandering about rather than attempting to make some entry purchase. As soon as the burning started, however, he was shocked back into mindfulness. All present would feel the wandering tendrils dissipate instantly, like the clouds parting for the sun.

Love was a hard emotion to hide.

"Shit, fuck... Sorry, I... Wh-whatever, let's get the fuck out of here before someone gives us any trouble." he asserted, taking a step out of the gazebo and on toward the ferry docks, mumbling curses under his breath toward Auri Auclair and her poor decisions.

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Mood Music

Kenshiro

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Mentions: In Collaboration with @Punished GN | Direct Dialogue: Auri Auclair, Odessa Maxwell | Location: Auri's Flower Stand, Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

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Auri ran to the scene, butterfly staff in hand, and watched as the crowd that came to watch the confrontation dispersed. There was (THANKFULLY) no sight of Emily, but Auri recognized the two PRA Agents who were in cutesy maid dresses and the rest of her people. She saw Britney walk up, and then Stormy talked to her. She got spooked, turned on her heel, and left with Linqian and Sabrina Vanburen. The situation seemed alright, but Auri didn't want to be around the people who teargassed them. However, Auri jumped when Odessa put her head underneath her arm, and smiled at her… Auri awkwardly laughed.

“These are your friends?” Odessa asked as she took a step forward, getting from underneath Auri’s arm. “The Sycamore Tree Coven?”

“Well, some of them,” Auri said.

“Heroes.”

“What?”

“They’re heroes!” Odessa said with a smile. “Not anyone could face the Stygian Snake, defeat it, and live to tell the tale!”

“Yeah…” Auri sighed as she looked around… and most curious, there was a little frog in her peripheral. She furrowed her brows in confusion as this was not the season for them. Then confusion was replaced by curiosity as it reminded her of someone… she summoned the butterfly apparitions within the butterfly staff and commanded them to grab the frog. Two glowing butterflies grabbed the frog and lifted it up, bringing it over to Auri so she could get a closer look…

“... Are you gonna dissect it?!” Odessa said with a laugh.

Auri shook her head.

The small frog was indignant at its quickly adjusting position. The butterflies were strong, and while the sticky pads on his toes kept him firmly planted for a moment, their constant dusting quickly dried out his skin.
Now, landing in Auri's palm, the frog took a resting squat while staring up at her.
This particular specimen was quite the robust mixture of colors; gold and purple seemed to swirl together underneath a tiny yukata robe, and on his little waist was a belt with a metal piece that had the tiniest kanji stamped into it.

As a poisonous tree frog, if he felt threatened he knew he could pressurize himself and ruin this person's day at the cost of his own time in this realm…
But he'd recognized what the Master said: The Butterfly Priestess. He croaked, actually chirped as he was so tiny, which was followed by the most miniscule and incomprehensible Japanese rambling.

If Auri could understand Japanese at all, she'd recognize that whatever dialect he was using either didn't exist, or was so old that it was no longer in use. He stared upward, upward some more, gave one last burst of language from his throat, then threw his hands up in very clear frustration.

So the peeping started: even small frogs like him were capable of projecting their tiny barking across great distances. While he wasn't trained in hearing such subtle noises, Ken was joined by the Scout Leader, who began to direct him toward Auri by listening for his Brother's distant signal. The two parties were capable of wandering just a few more yards before Ken rounded a corner and was looking down range at Auri Auclair.

“Auri!?”

It only took a few seconds for the area that had once been devoid of Froggy influence to flood with the peeping and croaking of the dozens of scouts sent out to find the woman. Some of them came to rest on her shoulders, a couple others ended up in her hand with the one she had found.
They were all kind of cute with their uniforms, some having little top knots or hats, but they all transferred back to Ken as he got close.

“Auri, I'm so fucking sorry…”
He didn't hesitate wrapping his arms around her in a warm and friendly embrace. He remembered losing his family; all he wanted was a hug.
“I had the worst nightmare and it made me come back. I should have sensed something was wrong earlier, I'm so sorry…”

“K-Kenshiro?!” Auri’s mouth was agape… and it wasn’t for the frogs all over her. She looked at Kenshiro. “It’s… not your fault. There is no need to be sorry. But it’s been so long, friend. How was your adventure?”

“Awful, I come back and people who I love are dead again. It’s like the past repeating itself, and despite my Batman costume surrounding me in its friendly warmth, I crave vengeance as I have for many years. But, it’s renewed.”
He flicked his hand, arigato leaving his lips as the several dozen frogs vibrated into golden hazes before disappearing entirely.
“I… I got your message just now. Not but a few hours ago when I arrived. I’m sorry about meeting you with such tragedy in such a happy place, but I await your orders!”

Auri briefly glanced at Odessa, who smiled at her, and then looked down at this stupid robot costume that she was wearing. Auri took a step forward as she said, “Well… ummm… right now we’re laying low, but tomorrow we’re going after a lead I gathered last week.”

Auri sighed, “I guess… I can fill you in on everything you missed in the meantime.”

Kenshiro grimaced beneath the mask and the eye makeup, bowing low in front of her as was traditional.
“Forgive me, I understand now is not a good time. Also, I believe I saw and, as they say, fucked on Emily G. Reed as I arrived here at the island. Say the word and I shall make myself scarce until a time that you require my assistance.”

“No, no, no, don’t go!” Auri laughed, grabbing onto his sleeve. “Come to my stall, we can talk like… normal people. I got wine in my stall, I’m not sure if it’s your thing.”

She briefly glanced at Odessa, who was smiling,

“... This is Odessa Maxwell,” She began, “A friend of mine.“

Odessa stuck her hand out, still smiling,

“It is great to meet you, friend!” Odessa began.

Ken smiled back at the two women, taking Odessa’s hand and bowing in front of her before pulling his mask from his face. The two dark black makeup circles made him look like a japanese raccoon with his hair tied up in a little bun.

“Odessa is a place in the land of Texas, correct? Coincidentally, I visited there within the last few months. The tacos are to die for!”

He was sure to hug Auri again, elated that she wasn’t rejecting him for another time slot. He wasn’t sure what he was liable to do without proper guidance in this time of crisis, but it was going to be drastic.

“You are not one of our people, Odessa Texas Maxwell. You are… Like us, yes?” He turned, falling to Auri’s side like a loyal dog would do.

“I am not one of you, but if I had known what was going on ten years ago, I would have been there by your side! Better late than never, as they say!” Odessa was still smiling, tilting her head. “However, I consider myself a loyal ally to old Sycamore, even if most of you are not aware of me yet!”

She then shrugged.

“Though, maybe not Texas, it is great to meet you!” She laughed.

Auri awkwardly laughed; if she had a collar, she would have tugged it, but alas.

“I’m convinced it was a Texas close to our own reality. But people seemed tolerant and that’s not what I’m aware of our Texas being like…”

As they walked through the fair grounds, Ken pulled a small pack of seeds and flowers from underneath his cape.
“As usual, I’ve brought you back some things. Some of it may already be rotted: The land of Owrang is a place that I was lost in for a few of their years… I don’t know how well some of them were preserved, but I did remove the best I saw from the pile of junk and brought it here for you.”

The little sack opened up in his hand, held aloft by his most basic control over his Phantom Hand technique. Within were petals of flowers and stalks of some cactus-like things as well as at least a dozen baggies of assorted seeds and other things.
“I hope you can make some use of these. The blue petals seem to taste good, and offer some uplifting effects… I uh… I definitely got lost in those mountains for a few weeks.”

“Oooooooh….” Auri said as she grabbed the flowers, mouth agape with wonder, before she looked at Ken and giggled. “... I’ll have to save these for later.”

Odessa laughed.

It wasn’t long before the trio returned to Auri’s stand… and she did not yet notice the alterations that the 317 did to her paintings. However, she did not move the closed sign as she leaned against one of the tables.

“So… maybe I should start from the beginning…” Auri glanced over to Odessa, who was staring at the 317. Unblinking. With a smile on her face. Auri shook her head, “... Oh!”

That was when Auri reached underneath the foldable table and pulled out a glass of red wine… and thankfully, she had brought two glasses. One for her and one for Ken… Auri glanced at Odessa again and figured that she probably does’t want any. She poured them both a glass, and then smiled as she said,

“Cheers!”

“Kanpai!”

---

One short conversation later, and Kenshiro was all caught up…

“... So, that’s why we’ve been laying low for the last week, but I feel like we’re on a race against time!” Auri awkwardly laughed as she ran a soft hand through her hair. “But, I think, with the help of Alyssa, we finally made a breakthrough.”

Ken looked like a war veteran at the other end of the table. His hand gripped the stem of his wine glass like the end of a club, the glass itself shimmering with a small amount of his natural energy as it arced through the material.

“This is a lucky break, Auri. Not all souls have the capacity to speak their truth.”
He remembered the Brothers of Honored Dead, taking them back to his village after the devastation and the Hellfires were diminished.
“It’s encouraging to know that we can make some headway soon: What do you feel I should be spending my energy on then? Keeping tabs on others? Or should our enemies feel the sting of my precision?”

“Relaxing,” Auri said with a smile. “At the moment…”

She paused as she carefully tried to pick her words.

“... We have no enemies, I would like you to keep an eye on the others because Father Wolf always attacks people who are alone.“ She sighed. “But, you can take a breather. There is no need to rush….”

Ken grimaced a bit more. There was a moment where Auri could’ve seen the gears in Ken’s head turning tightly, wound up like a tense clockwork that didn’t seem to understand it’s own mechanisms. His eyes went wide in his head like he was experiencing a war all over again, and it was a deep cut that he was traveling to in his memories. Vivid Recollections of the Stygian’s wrath.

““We… Have enemies. If our blood is spilled, our enemies lurk in the City. Heavens forbid, the Beast’s allies are back! Or, worse, Leon’s gone off the deep end, I couldn’t take it!”
His face was pure panic: Fear of the loss to come consumed him, and he was having a hard time thinking about Auri’s plan for “laying low”. But he was trained just as much in scouting as he was in combat: He could stake anyone out that she wanted him to.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and finally nodded his head in agreement.
“Okay. I shall… I will watch! Them, everyone. You say Jack is around, so I will approach him about establishing a proper network. I suggest we press certain people to test their loyalty to our cause; that we may avoid saboteurs! Though, no doubt we will be able to establish suspicions more directly by quiet observation.”
His expression changed to one of expectation, with the hope that she would approve of his plans like a toddler would look for approval.

Auri’s mouth was agape as she stared at Kenshiro in abstract horror.

“... Relax,” Auri tried to smile; she did but couldn’t hide the concern from her face. She had one final card up her sleeve as she desperately poured Kenshiro another glass of wine. “Here! Have some more!” She thrust it out.

Ken may have always seemed somewhat childlike in nature: It’s true he was somehow sheltered from the way that the “real” world works, but that didn’t degrade his ability to perceive. He felt the shock in her expression, the reaction to push alcohol onto him as if that would somehow dull his nerves.
Maybe it would.
His grimace turned into a simple frown, turning into a slight pout as he took another drink from his glass and nodded.
“Then, that’s how it will be. Relaxed. They would’ve trusted your judgment, and so will I.”
He couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened; that she was so willing to just play the back field when such things were happening around them.

“Before I came home, I was in such a strange place. The trees, they weren’t trees. They were, like, giant dicks. Flesh and wood. One day when things are less dangerous, I wish to bring people through the paths… To see the other Realms.”
He very quickly went from looking scared to looking reminiscent. Almost longingly, he thought about the chance for adventures that would maybe never come.
“Kari won’t see it now. Neither will Kali. I… Some may crave the same action that I do. It will make them restless. Vengeance.”

“I am certain that they are watching over you from wherever they are, Kenshiro,” Auri began, attempting to reassure Kenshiro, “They will have a front-row seat, you can say.”

She nodded her head.

“You are doing honor to their memory by returning, you know? You could have simply left and never come back to save yourself. Yet. Here you are. Ready for action. You’re going to save everyone, I promise you that.”

Ken shifted in his seat, his heart rate slowing down as he sipped on his drink and looked out across the festival grounds as the rain started to lighten up. It was getting closer to dark now, the time where things began to get strange. He recognized the slowly shifting feeling as the alcohol warmed his blood in the cool autumn air. He held his tongue for a long while, thinking about what he wanted to say.
But implying that he was suspicious of her and her behavior wouldn’t do him any favors. It was a dangerous game throwing accusations around without any sort of actual proof. There was a shift in his demeanor, his intensity dipping with the sunlight below the horizon.

“Right. Then we shouldn’t languish here in the rain. What kind of honor to the living is it to populate the waking world with the memory of the dead?”
He stood up, stretching and putting his mask back on.
“Trick or Treating! We should find some of the others, and go out into the city for the Trick or Treating! I still have several smoke bombs, soft boiled eggs I keep for rations, some…-”
Reaching into his utility belt, he produced a small sheath of close to ten shuriken stars.
“-Some throwing stars, I think I have a tomato?”

He reached back to the furthest point on the belt where there was a pouch with his smoke bombs. What he pulled out was a half squashed potato; clearly a mixup in his vocabulary. Despite his perfect American accent implanted into him, the words were not all wired correctly, and he often either sounded far too formal or too silly to be taken seriously.

Auri just laughed. “... That’s a potato!”

When she finished laughing, she said,

“But, you know, that doesn’t sound half bad, but…” She looked at the CLOSED sign on her stand… then Odessa staring at those weirdos. “I have to tend after my stand, I can’t really leave the stand again… but don’t let me hold you up!”

He narrowed his eyes as deeply as he could at Auri, taking in the inventory that she’d brought. It was the fall season, and while she had plenty of perennial flowers for sale grown in a greenhouse, there were seasonal flowers as well. The thought about his abilities, and about Kai’s many paths. He’d be here in St. Portwell for the foreseeable future, so…

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a few small rectangular gold pieces that clacked together as he placed them on the counter and slid them toward Auri.
“I refuse to leave you alone like this.-” he started, then stopped and looked at Odessa.
”-Well, not alone certainly, but out like this. It’s the perfect venue for a murder, and I worry a single friend won’t be enough of a deterrent. So, I will buy your stock; and as we’re leaving we will hand every single beautiful flower out to the people who have gathered here on glorious Crackerland!”

Auri grabbed the pieces, staring at them with wide eyes.

“... What are these?”

He pulled a third one out and put it on his forehead, right in the center with it sticking upright. He smiled widely.
“Meowth! Meowth!” he began to laugh. “These are Koban. Gold from the Empire which we used as a stipend for our yearly operations. The clan treasury would supply us with a few boxes of them every year, and we would return with different artifacts and materials you can’t find in this realm.”

He held out the third one to Auri, letting her take it as well.
“They were still in the village the night I returned to it burning; it’s how I can tell it wasn’t one of our rival clans that did the deed. If they had, they would’ve pillaged our coffers as well.”
There was a wide grin on his face, and he wasn’t about to tell her how many were back on his boat, or how many were buried on the property outside.
“These are, I believe, from the early seventeen-hundreds. Get them appraised, they become too high profile to sell. But, I met a fence willing to go for around sixty percent, which means today each coin is worth about a thousand or so of your American Greens.”

“I… uh…” Auri was completely awestruck as she stared at them. “I can’t take these Kenshiro! It won’t feel right!” She looked over to him.

“I believe I am a paying customer. Put the rest of it on my tab for gardening supplies and dogwood bark bags for my summons, and you will be perfectly capable of taking them as payment for an evening worth of your time without my being so glum and harmed!”
And there he was, back to being intensive in a bright and cheerful kind of way that he was mostly known for. Kenshiro was generally always wearing his heart on his sleeve, but these moments made it somewhat endearing as he provided warm and friendly energy to the situation. Maybe too much…

Auri smiled.

“... Well, could you help me get my stuff back to the mainland, then?”

A wide grin formed across his face.
“Of course. What else is all this good for?” he asked, his right hand slipping into the formation of half of a somatic sigil. Every flower and bundle or bouquet rose from the table like a ghost hoisted them from their spot. He slid them back onto open ground, giving Auri room to take care of her things which he moved to help with as well.

He’d purchased friendship for the night, it seemed, and he was satisfied for now despite the lingering fear and anxiety over what was to come next.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

#Revengebuddies

@Estylwen

#Revengebuddies Can't wait for this goofy duo to cause nothing but problems for others. Also can't wait for the eventual reconvening of House of Cards, and Layla just brings Edict along and Vorpal's like "OHFUG"

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Mood Music

Edict & Layla

---

Mentions: Stormy Carson & Jack Hawthorne/@Blizz, Britney Williams/@Punished GN, Sloane Farris/@Atrophy, Leon Richoux, PRA/TCGI/STC NPCs | Direct Dialogue: In collaboration with @Estylwen | Location: Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

---

Edict stared down at her pale, innocent face from behind dark glasses. His intentions were cold and dark; nothing any worse than what normally surrounded the girl. Unintentionally, through his desire to manipulate, he’d found a target with whom he had no real past. Layla had been a little girl: She hadn’t had the chance to wrong him in a way that she understood. What did she deserve that people like Sully or Leon deserved? What Auri or Sloane or Ashley deserved?

But it had to be done; something had to give in the situation he was in now. She either had a grudge or something deeper, but he needed to know everything before he could make a judgment. He had no clue what he was actually walking into.

Edict’s smile curled up around his face, perfectly curated to mimic empathy and compassion. His hand extended in a friendly way, patting Layla on the shoulder with a directive motion toward the haunted house. As he did, he pulled out his phone and rattled the text message to Linqian he had intended to.

His phone clicked, and he moved his hand away from Layla as they began to walk. His first instinct was to give the same disclaimer he’d had the decency to give Linqian.

"A couple of things are going to happen at once, Layla. I’m gonna show you what happened at the Church, and at the same time I’m gonna give you a bit of a boost. Think of it like an energy drink: You’ll feel more alert, but also more relaxed… I know it sounds weird, but I promise it’s pretty cool.-"

Layla nodded along as they walked. ”O-okay.”

Edict gave the girl a smile and a reassuring nod as they began to walk through the crowds the further they got into the actual event space. Of course he wouldn’t tell her what the process entailed; about how he’d be learning every point of stress he could, about how he’d be scrubbing and combing her memories for information in order to form the perfect string of spells catered to give her the best kind of high she could ask for.

"Now, it’ll last about four hours. We’ll probably either be wrapping up or already departed by then, so if you like the feeling I’ll top you off again before we’re done. However, I’ll warn you that after you’re done, it’s gonna feel like hell. Worse than when you started, maybe. But, I’ve heard people say the four hours is enough time to experience some level of clarity where they were able to make changes in their lives. I think it’s worth it if you can push through the adverse ending.”

Bullshit. It was heroin, it was amphetamine, it was the poison one crams into their veins through the webbing in their toes because they can’t show the injection sight to the public. It was the little death, the pain of withdrawal that left you feeling empty and worthless without the glowing pink center to give you that second hit. If she wasn’t a naïve girl, she’d have sprinted away then and there.
But he never framed it like it was the end of the world. For a strong person, someone like Linqian, it wasn’t. It was the weak and the desperate that clung to Edict like a piece of flotsam in the storm.

His eyes began to curl with pink smoke, Channeler intaking Pink Lux from his own mind. The Pink Lotus unfurled its waterbound roots, beginning to crawl across the space between them in bundles like wide arms that caressed Layla’s emotional field like a mother swaddling a newborn. Even the gentle uplifting pressure was enough to make him feel safe… And, he was asking permission. Nothing bad ever happened with someone’s permission, right?

"Are you ready?”

A brief hesitation. What was she signing away here?

Layla's bottom lip stiffened. No, no there was no time for hesitation. She felt cold, uncertain, yes. But Mr. Devola could be trusted. He could be trusted, right?

A shaky breath. She could feel pressures already. Not in a bad way. Poised, more like. Waiting to be let in.

“I'm ready.” She said softly, having no idea what she was walking into. Internally, she relaxed. It was like any resistance she held was released as she stood as still as possible.

Edict took a long, deep breath. The words didn’t ring through the air so much as echo through her very mind.
”Pink Lotus’ Guiding Principle: Power Word Assess.”
The tendrils felt the flickering resistance as Layla released herself to him and his intentions.

And as Mr. Devola would begin his examination, several stress points would pop up, hazy in their numbers, but taking focus at a closer look.

The Void. What appeared to be kindness turned into ultimate betrayal as Layla watched Jack lure her and Void into a trap. The pain of having to fight friends - Stormy, Jack, Britney, Auri, in a desperate struggle for survival. The pain of being unheard and misunderstood when she said it would get worse, much worse, if they took Void from her.

The hot, biting sting of hatred in Layla as she pulled a knife on Jack. She hated seeing Void surrender. She didn't understand why a stupid sword meant anything, why Void was so scared of Britney. Why he surrendered all of a sudden. Her anger though, curiously, turned on Jack instead, and she felt the bloodlust necessary to drive it through his heart.

The pain of preferring death, of threatening her own life, to keep them away from Void.

The Temple. The false sense of security that was shattered like a China dish. This memory was twisted, thought on repeatedly instead of being first-hand experience. As if Layla could only imagine as Mr. Salamante drove the knife through a no longer breathing Void. Her raw disgust at Clarissa, the memory having an audible shriek to it as Layla gripped hands on the woman. How her disgust and shock turned into physical sickness. How she was told Void was dead. And she wished to be dead too.

The nights. Haunting shadows of figures morphing into reality, crooning over her as she sat there in the darkness, petrified with fear. Hands and face slicked with sweat. Trembling at even the slight gesture of them teasing her, mocking her. The fear of knowing what her entities wanted, and simply waiting for the pain. Waiting in dread for a thing she couldn't avoid.

As all of this swirled, as he peeled through each layer of her recent memories hunting and searching for a point where she’d decided that a hit was to be placed on Britney for her involvement, he regaled Layla with the full color full motion footage recorded in his mind.

”Pink Lotus’ Precious Recollection: Living in Color.”

It was a seamless experience filled in by the imagination of a man who spent his entire life lying to people in order to maintain his own position. He was happy to show her something that almost happened, as it was far easier to put together on the fly than something entirely fabricated.
What Layla saw flash across her own mind as things began to settle in her was from Edict’s point of view.

The flash of Jack teleporting away outside the Church, with what she recognized as herself in tow. Entering the Church, Leon’s boisterous voice shouting about someone teleporting.
”Leon knew you were in trouble. I realize this now. He tried to save you.”
It was like one of those old school moving pictures, where instead of a voice there was a flash of text quotes in the foreground. Followed by clever editing; Leon at the window, the canister hitting him in the head. It was easy to influence the mind to think that the cloud of vapor wasn’t there…

It hit the floor in front of him. Then, his hands came up, throwing the canister toward the ceiling as it exploded into a ball of fire. Never once did it show his hand in it, that he’d lit the fire from the leaking gas cloud. It also wasn’t hard to mimic consciousness fading in and out, and he did this to cover his failed escape attempt. Rather, in the vision he gave Layla a sense that he turned from the explosion and tried to dive away before being driven to the ground by the force. His eyes opened to the PRA, and he made sure to focus on their leader shouting and having an absolute shitfit.

”These people are dangerous enemies.”

Faces flashed in front of Layla, and Edict couldn’t help but transfer a bit of personal emotion to her. Pain that she was familiar with, that he was quickly learning behind the scenes as something they had in common. Sloane, Stormy, Jack and Auri who arrived wounded. It was explained far better to him through this context, knowing what he knew now. There’d been a fight. Those two from the Temple, and more. Salamente, even their Lady herself, Lynette.

But the picture show was over then. His work wasn’t. The two of them walked while this happened, with Edict guiding their steps slowly and carefully until they made it to a waiting area where they could sit near the Haunted House.

”Pink Lotus’ Guiding Principle: More Than a Feeling.”
Complete and total pink saturation washed through Layla’s brain matter, brute forcing a solution that he’d searched and searched for: The crux of the problem. He was always listening, after all.
”Taking life is easy. You must just not be looking at things the right way. Don’t Worry.”

Picking through her memories, he began to feed them back to her. Images of past kills, of previous hunts that she’d been forced to watch. The Void Heart smiled in her memory, bloody hands lifting up her chin to witness his dark form. Alongside him, “friendly” faces: Edict himself, with Britney under his arm. Leon, the Temple, people who he wanted her to disassociate as threats. As if Void Heart was personally vouching for them contrary to what she had previously seen.
"I’m so proud of you…”
He pulled and ruffled the sparse but passionate moments that she’d spent with Void Heart, bringing it all together in the form of a seal that locked her mind into the final thought: Jack Hawthorne’s severed head, corpse a feast for the ethereal dogs of her torturers piled alongside the others who had betrayed her trust in the first place.
”People involve themselves in business that isn’t theirs. Busy bodies, enemies of your happiness. You have the tools to end their lives. Use it for yourself, and paint the canvas with their remains.”

As the crux and defining moment played out, one last memory surfaced. One that Mr. Devola had been searching for. The mental breakdown of Layla's as she sat across a recognized figure - Miss Vorpal. One other, Miss Blackthorn, was with them as well. The feeling of bliss from Miss Vorpal's ethereal eyes. How Miss Vorpal held Layla and promised her healing in the form of revenge. How Britney Williams had been implied as one that had to suffer.

This was how the connection between Britney's hit and Layla's involvement would be made.

And then reality came back around them, the tendrils pulling away all at once. Edict had his sunglasses in his hand now, looking at Layla as she came to. Consciousness was meant, in Edict’s method, to be a warm embrace that welcomed the girl back into its arms. The sting of Void Heart’s loss remained, but far louder was the lasting image of that “friendly” smirk he gave to his pets. What one may consider predatory was Layla’s happy place: The beast that gave her peace.

Edict waited for a long moment, letting reality set back in for her as sorrow was replaced with warm nostalgia and love that she’d been able to perceive as if it were real and in front of her.

As her awareness came back to her, a genuine smile graced her features. What had once been unhappy and grief-stricken were now replaced with happiness and peace. She was filled with understanding, as tangible as seeing Void's warm face in front of her.

She blinked slowly, trying to get her bearings. She realized they were right outside the Haunted House, and a childish giggle escaped her lips.

She thought about what she saw, and spoke slowly, gaze shifting from the ground to Mr. Devola. “I think… the cops were wrong to attack everyone. I can't believe they set the church on fire…”

Her head hung a bit. “Perhaps… I was wrong about the Temple. They were just trying to help.”

She thought of Void, and her smile grew soft. “I miss my friend, but I'll be okay.”

A dark, detached look crossed her face. She didn't vocalize this, but already in her mind, strategies were being formed to take down the man who betrayed her and Void: Jack Hawthorne. He wouldn't see it coming…

“I… Thank you, Mr. Devola.”

Edict, looking around to see Linqian, Sabrina and Britney making their return through the crowd, leaned into Layla subtly as he stuffed his Channeler into his breast pocket.

"Don't mention it. Seriously, not to anyone else. It's our secret now. Revenge Buddies.”
He patted her shoulder with warm comfort, something like a genuine smile forming over his face as his legs brought him back to a standing position. He hefted the guitar case over his shoulder, waving the returning ladies closer to them.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Mood Music

Edict

---

Mentions: Linqian Han/@FernStone, Britney Williams/@Punished GN | Direct Dialogue: Layla Hyacinthus/@Estylwen | Location: Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

---

When he'd asked her about the meeting, he realized she was talking about the Church. Lucky for her, she hadn't gotten wrapped up with the Feds. Unlucky for her, apparently she'd lost her inherited buddy. From what he gathered thanks to Linqian's handy information gathering, her situation went something like this: The night of the first meeting, Alizee Altieri gave up the ghost in a literal and metaphorical sense. The ghost, as vicious as it once was, didn't die... It was problematic for people like Auri who saw what Alizee did that night and thought that Void Heart would be best if he was out of the way. Edict hadn't known the girl too well, and he really didn't know this girl. But he did know that they looked similar. Lithe, pale, platinum hair and bad attitudes. He could only reckon the old Nut Ghost had a type.

“Only Anya seemed to agree with me. She's got her head on straight, I'll have to talk with her again.
God in Absence, she's beyond naïve.
Edict made a strong mental note to contact Anya and get her working this case with him. They were, he recognized, tools for one another's games. But he kind of liked that, and it made Edict feel similar to how he felt about Linqian: You can live, maybe. She unwrapped her hand, showed him her wound, and Edict did his best mimic of a surprised face. At the same time, he had to keep a straight face as he saw two tiny eyes cresting up over the side of one of the canopies holding a festival booth. Two golden eyes, sitting perfectly like two cresting suns over the horizon of canvas lining. One little... Hand? Paw? Foot?

A tiny, bright gold tree frog stared at the two of them with a discerning and judgmental stare. It wasn't there long, however, and before Edict could do anything about the strange creature, it was gone. He thought for a second it was wearing clothes. His head shook, and he cleared his throat.
"Auhh... You... You don't sound so good Layla. Maybe... Maybe I can help you?-"
He sincerely had no recollection of what her abstraction entailed, but he couldn't see many consequences present in giving her a quick magical once-over. If she had any serious cracks, like he thought she may have, she'd be a sitting duck for his powers. But, he stopped himself short. It was always easier to get permission for these sorts of operations; Once he was in with permission, it was hard to stop him from getting back in later unless you had some serious assistance or were somewhat used to the basic entry.

“We should… uh… move to the Haunted House.”
Edict nodded in agreement, the perfect chance to see if that little frog was really who he thought it was. But she stopped again, held still.
“Were… there any more leads given during the meeting? Anything I missed?”
Pulling out his phone to rattle off a text to Linqian, Layla gave him reason to pause and smile. Fire, flames, chaos, property damage...
"Well, long story short, we were raided by Police Officers. Federal police, actually, government agents more like. Magical people, like us. They attacked. I can show you if you don't mind me using my power."

That was a far more casual, far more devious way to suggest letting him in. Edict wasn't keen on leaving the spot he told the others they'd be in, so he was hopeful that she'd take the bait and he could drag the line into the boat so he could get a nice long look at his catch. He waited for her choice with phone in hand figuring that if for some silly reason he was denied, he'd still have to text someone to let them know there's movement. All he needed to really know was what the hell happened with the Sealing. He wanted to see what Britney had to do with it that would make her a target for anyone. It just didn't make sense in his mind that something so drastic could've happened, but the way he figured things made him feel like he was the only one who could get to the bottom of it.

---

---

Mood Music

Leon & Casey

---

Mentions:Nobody Relevant | Direct Dialogue: Adora Phoenix-Prescott/@Punished GN, Trisha Vanburen/@FernStone | Location: Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

---

Having managed to pull both parties off one another with ease, the two Jotun sized men stood across from one another. Leon specifically held Adora in a tight clutch under both arms, his massive forearms squishing Adora's chest while she vaguely struggled to get back to the punching. Casey didn't feel the same struggle from Trisha, and rather than holding her arm locked behind her back like she was part of the problem, he let her go. At first, Leon was a bit confused at the identity of the person bitching at him, but after a few moments and a few words through fat lips, he knew this wasn't just any victim of assault: It was a perpetual victim. The damsel in distress herself, the Queen Bee.

"Oh, wow... Trisha? God, what's the city coming to when a Vanburen can't walk safely among her people?" he asked sarcastically, the still struggling Adora beginning to mellow out.
"Dude, she's fucked! Look at this poor girls face, who are these two?"
Leon took a long deep breath as he avoided saying That's a Bee.
"Well this here is Adora PP, Phoenix-Prescott, or Appie, she hates all those nicknames. And she's a Vanburen so that really sums things up."
Casey's eyes widened a bit as he got a slightly better picture of things, and he turned to Trisha.
"Oh my God, Ms. Vanburen!? I'm so sorry about this, holy hell..."
"Yep, welcome to Sycamore Hell my favorite Little Brother. Ladies, my brother Casey. He's handsome and available. Speaking of, Case, could you please bring our lovely Ms. Vanburen to the place with the food? Have Andrade get her the jelly roll from the ice chest, I think that'll do the trick for the blood and broken bones."

Casey, still wide eyed at the carnage, frowned.
"Uh, sure Lee.-" he replied, looking at Trisha with a great deal of empathy. "Do you mind? Its just down the way, our Uncle has some food that can heal you. Videogame shit, but that's magic right?" he tried to be as polite as possible in offering the help to the woman whose family was St. Portwell Royalty that his mom and dad had spent his whole childhood striving for. He didn't know why he felt compelled to treat her like a princess; maybe it was the inherent respect for authority and hierarchy that filled his heart, or maybe it was the sight of a wounded woman that put him out of sorts.

Meanwhile, Leon had already begun moving Adora into a different direction. Speaking to her in a low voice as he let her go, Leon smiled down at Adora.
"When I saw it was you, I was gonna let you keep going. But I figured if it was good and right, we could both get some shots in together... Come on, let's not be near her now, and maybe we can get a beer. God damn look at that face..." he said, looking back one last time to wave his little brother and the young Vanburen off.
"What the hell brought all that on, huh?" he asked Adora, still laughing and shaking his head as he tried to shift the attention ultimately away from what had transpired.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Mood Music

Kenshiro

---

Mentions: Auri Auclair, Emily G. Reed/@Punished GN | Direct Dialogue: Emperor Tennogama | Location: Traveling > Home Boat > Auri's Flower Stand, Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

---

Gazing across the dark at the girl at once filled the observer with curiosity and dread as one scene to the other passed through the mind of the slumbering Kenshiro Murakin. The Pit, the Mother Will, the Chalice... That girl, and the woman with pale skin. The Witch of the End... Ken felt his legs moving, running, trying to get to the girl and stop her or... Something. He wasn't sure, it felt like everything was just moving in place while he desperately tried to get out of the box he was stuck in. Screams couldn't escape, and suddenly it was his Sister's face. His Mother's. Torn asunder by the Hunters as the dream spiraled off into the ether.

He awoke high in a tree, hanging from the net he'd secured with a couple kunai buried deep in the fleshy wood. The thousands of branches beneath him gave the impression that there was solid something below him. But, this was no ordinary tree. As Ken stretched his limbs in the makeshift hammock, the branch above him began to vibrate gently from its base. This caused the hammock to rock and sway even more, until one of the Kunai pulled itself from the limb with a bloody discharge as the large vein began to squirt the tree's blood from the limb.
This had several effects: One, a side of the hammock let itself loose, removing any support out from underneath Ken. Two, the tree's blood spattered across his Gi and face as he began to fall which caused great discomfort. Third, in a reaction of pain, the tree's conscious mind moved all of the limbs between Ken and the ground out of the way to let him fall straight down to the ground. Still disoriented from the terribly vivid dream and the spatter of hot tree blood, Ken fell for a few dozen feet. It would have been a death sentence for many others, but then many others wouldn't spend their time this far up a Living Redwood. The impossibly tall and lanky creatures were massive wurms whose mouths and faces were buried dozens and dozens of feet beneath the dirt, whose massive stalks resisted the wind as they climbed higher toward the light.

It was a bit ironic in a poetic way that he felt much safer up here falling down than he did on the actual ground of this place. Cloth blew around him from his clothing, and he pulled a loose bit up to wipe the sticky coppery brown from his face. Eyes opened to the sky, disorienting in a falling position as there's very few references as to the speed of descent. He couldn't waste anymore time: Hands flicked together, fingers snapping from sacred position to position as Purple Lux rushed toward the band tied around his right bicep, then back out into his hands.
"Murasaki: Enlighten!"

His downward momentum halted, the very cloth around his body slowing his now weightless form to a glide through the sparsely packed trees. Once he was at a slower pace, he began to lighten even the clothes and his equipment until he wasn't falling at all, but rather hung in the dense air as if on a cloud. He checked his vest and his pouch, taking inventory of what he had left for this excursion, and determined that he was right to follow the urge that was now bubbling in him after that strange dream. He felt the call of his own Realm. Shimmer's calm embrace felt reserved and threatened in that dream, as if nothing was right. It couldn't have been if a human was involved... They either saved or ruined everything they touched.

He was still facing the sky, staring at the twin suns of of this world from behind darkened glasses meant to block the harmful rays. Sunglasses he bemused. Sucking in through his teeth, he felt the Lux heavy atmosphere around him and wished some of his friends could come with him. That one day he'd like to take them to these places where the magic is stronger, and where they'd be able to transcend their mundanity on Earth. Places like the Hidden Villages, where the magic was thickest...
To be fair, St. Portwell is similar. Tennogama has said so of his own volition.
In a place like this, the magic flowed like blood through his veins, making even the most complicated spell a simple task. Even from this Enlighten, he had so much control over his weight and direction that he easily stood up in mid air as if there were a solid floor of stone beneath him. This took focus in Shimmer, or other realms more closely mirroring it along the Infinite Chain.

But he had to leave. He'd been untrue to his instinct before, and for that he was unable to save his family from their doom. He would not do the same thing again.

He knew not yet what he was to find in that sleepy City, in which the Toad hides and the Snake lies in unrest beneath the soil. Not yet.

Ken let his hands and arms receive a great deal of Purple Lux, drawing it from both within and without his body. Feet planted firmly on the nothingness, Ken reached for the sword at his side. Long, deep breaths carried his arm slowly, precisely, with absolute and utter authority to the grip. Purple Lux transferred from the man into the blade, and he began to chant into the air, the ancient mantras of the Ten Paths. Each Kanji representing the ten colors of Lux bubbled through the air in purple flames that appeared from nowhere, until finally Ken held the tone pitch perfect for several seconds. In those seconds, the vibration from his voice box passed along through his bones to the sword he gripped. In a single slash, the blade flicked upward through the air, the blade resonating with such a powerful frequency that the vibrations caused it to lose its shape so that it looked like an airborne torrent of metal.

The rend in reality revealed a tatami sliding door, which slid open for Ken as the rapidly vibrating sword was slid back into its sheath and made the most deafening silence one could imagine. He looked back one last time on this savage landscape, not knowing when he'd be able to return next, and took one last deep breath at the hellish landscape of flesh trees and flatulent monstrosities that belched sulfer gas and other dreadful awful things. Maybe powerful Adepts came from this place, but it wasn't worth looking at this awfulness everyday... It was his first time looking at the ground since yesterday, and it disgusted him for the last time.

The door slammed shut behind him with a loud resonant "Thwack!", leaving the wretched place behind. A few thousand feet away, in a nearby flesh tree, a single kunai sat stabbed into the woody flesh, and would probably stay there until the beast one day died and decayed.

---

Life is so silly
You could be born a Flesh Tree
The Gods are all sick

---

The pathway door opened just where he wanted it to: At the foot of Tennogama's shrine, where the old Toad would be waiting for him to come back. The lucky thing was, he'd always know if Ken was alive or not; he was intrinsically aware that Tennogama needed Ken alive for the Pact to remain in place, which meant that if he was still stuck in St. Portwell, the reckless young human had to be alive. Not that it didn't pain him to think of his only guard being out trotting about the Allverse without any kind of true backup, of course... But what could he do besides complain to someone who wasn't interested in listening?

Tennogama's spirit sat in the cool afternoon air, letting the water of the brook run across his underside while he laid back against a natural rock face and smoked his pipe. It was a mystery what he was smoking, but Tennogama himself knew that it was the loudest swamp-grown evergrove leaf that could be grown in the Realm of Gam, freshly burned at an offering on the other side every morning and every night to insure that he was kept well stocked with material to smoke in the equivalent of their spirit realm: The Shimmer. As Tennogama inhaled, the Kai Pathway began to burn a hole in reality that signified a member of the Murasaki Clan was fast approaching. The great spirit looked at it with the same secret bemusement that he did the first day he saw something like it, watching the colors of the flames dance about the door that eventually slid open and deposited an almost always half drained and starved Kenshiro.

Ken emerged across the mouth of the brook from the Toad, destined to stare at his great golden skin in all its basking glory. The spirit's presence was warming in a literal sense, the density of magic around it pooling moisture in the air and trapping heat that rolled up off the lake. It gave the area a constant fog, not that it protected the Emperor's modest staff in any great way. The spirit, bereft of modesty, could tell immediately that there was a troubled air about his Bondsman. Though the two simply stared between one another for a span of time, their minds and eyes were locked in the constant back and forth battle of "Who will ask who first?"

"D-daijoubu desu ka? (You are... Well?)"
The spirit's voice croaked like a thousand boulders tumbling into a pool of water, his ancient voice made far more convenient for croaking and barking than speaking the Human tongue.
"Honestly? I don't know yet. I had an awful dream, Sensei."
"And now you return because you fear?"
"Maybe... I am... I am hungry for some tacos down by the Harbor District as well."
Tennogama's eyes closed gently, and he inhaled another tug of smoke from his long, thin pipe. For a moment he made no motion, but exhaling brought about a gentle nod.
"You... Were right to return. I have felt a disturbance in the Magic. Things are happening that were not before."

Ken took a long and deep breath, inhaling the mist that billowed from Tennogama's direction; magical vapor from a pipe that didn't actually exist. His hands came up to his face, pulling the cloth half mask and the wide hood off his head. Patting himself down, he nodded up at Tennogama.
"Then it looks like I'm back for the foreseeable future. Let me go catch up with reality and I'll start rooting around, trying to figure out what's going on."
Tennogama gave a loud, guttural croak from the deepest part of himself. It was expressive of deep satisfaction, and these croaks and ribbits and barks that came from within were the preferred method of communication. Ken had long ago learned to read them, and took that as his permission to be dismissed. He traveled down the shore of the lake a few hundred feet before lazily throwing his hands together in a jumble. Another enlighten spell: At first he wobbled as he stepped onto the surface of the water, but remembering the depth of control necessary here in the Shimmer, he focused the magic closer to the soles of his shoes and feet.

Rather than actually walking like a solid surface, small bubbles of trapped and pressurized air kept him aloft above the water like a staggered stone pathway across a pond until he reached his destination. The sixty or so foot houseboat was a sturdy construct that sat in the middle of the lake at almost all moments. Though there was a dock, the resident himself didn't need any particular path to get on or off the vessel, so he saw no need to fuss with docking it unless he was too exhausted to get out there himself. It had happened a few times, thus he kept a heavy iron chain tied from the boat to the dock; worst case scenarios he could tug the thing back to dock and flop over the side.
The interior was sparse, mostly open space except for a kitchen and the bed at the second floor loft. The walls without windows were covered in storage, lockers upon lockers of tools and somatic supplies that so often needed refreshing between excursions. Not to mention the bundles of Blind medications, pain killers and other modern medical supplies that he'd adapted into his emergency kits. Otherwise, there was nothing except for a hatch to the ship's bilge and a small table with a radio and a little electrical outlet into which a small cell phone was plugged, and an equally small vintage radio with two batteries sitting next to it in upright positions. In the loft, besides his bed, was a small candle burning shrine with a stone pylon front and center. Without pictures, the faces of his long dead family members slowly fade from his mind.

Only pictures of himself with some of the Sycamore Tree kindred dot the otherwise bare walls of that upper space. He pulls the clothing from himself layer by layer, the sweat and blood and grime causing the various cloths to become rigid after peeling from one another and ultimately his chest. His lithe, slightly malnourished figure was made of very little body fat, but in the reflection of a window he caught sight of himself and saw his ribcage like a xylophone on his torso, and he took a deep breath. He'd been pushing himself too hard, even he had to admit that. He hoped in that moment, as he reached for his phone to turn it on and head down to the bilge for a shower, that he was just psyching himself up over nothing.
He spent until the early evening held up in that bilge weeping deep and sorrowful tears at the news that his instinct had, in fact, been right. Something awful was happening, and by the dates of the texts and phone messages that were left on his device, he was more than a week late.

It was hard for Kenshiro not to feel responsible. His ego combined with his trauma in the most hellish feeling of self hatred and rage. Who the fuck is this Father Wolf? He doesn't have a fucking clue who he's dealing with. It took Ken the several hours of processing to recuperate, letting the cold filtered lake water wash over him and run back out into the body of water from whence it came. It cleansed him of the pain long enough to think of revenge. In a sick way, by the time he was done with the panic attack, he was fine. Better than fine, he had a goal clear ahead of him, and it was more tangible than chasing the ghosts of his other family ever was. The entire Coven, after all, had not died.
Auri Auclair had reached out to him, asking him to a meeting at the beginning of the week which he'd missed. But looking at the date filled him with hope. That if she was going to be anywhere on this night, he knew exactly where that was. With the majority of his actual storage in the bilge, he set about unpacking his yearly attire for the Halloween Festival.

The others told him that he was supposed to change the costume every year, but Kenshiro failed to see the point. It was like a personification; the costume chooses you just as much as you choose the costume. As he pulled the two bags out of his big storage chest, he gave a very subtle grin. There was pain behind it, as he remembered some of the good times he'd had with it on. And now more people were gone. More, after the Stygian Snake, not from some random happenstance. He wasn't coming home to a drug overdose or a car crash funeral. He was coming back to a place where his final shot at a family was being terrorized by some nameless, faceless thing...

And it all has to do with Raven Jones... Who the fuck is Raven Jones?

His teeth gritted together, but he shook it off and proceeded to don his costume.

---

As the storm formed over the Cracker Island Historical District, the thunder somewhat muffled the loud popping blasts that signaled Kenshiro's descent from high altitude toward the dot below. The island was awash with lights, and roughly a quarter of a mile before he made contact, he began to put the breaks on. Flight wasn't direct, nor was it precise; rather Ken had gotten to be something of a master at sling-shotting himself around by slinging a few spells together. Enlighten, combined with the martial techniques of Ten Ton himself, meant that the amount of power that Ken could output from his legs and arms was like scaling up a grasshopper and an ant at the same time.
Manipulating his weight by shifting it at different points during flight, he could adjust for trajectory and accuracy like a guided artillery shell. With concentrated bursts of air trapped and pressurized by Phantom Hands, like how he crossed the water previously, he can make much harsher and more broad angle adjustments, as well as using them as airbag breaks that give up and bleed off velocity little by little.

All this pressurizing and popping makes Ken's Flight sound like a twin engine plane with a blown out propeller; all this to say that it was convenient for him that a localized storm had gathered in the area. Only, the full picture of it from above really gave the weather system away. He could tell from such a distance that it was clearly magical phenomena, as all around the horizon, no other clouds were so low and densely packed. Something was already awry, and it smelled like trouble. He took a low arc, readjusting to gain the trajectory he desired near the edge of the island. With the goal of getting a vantage point, his right hand reached into his favorite part of the costume, pulling out a small bundle of copper wire. Instantly, Purple Lux arced across the metal's surface, vibrating and finally vaporizing into nothing.
Time slowed to a crawl in Ken's mind, and the clarity allowed him to see all the faces that he was slowly hurdling toward. Thankfully, he was dressed in all black and backed by dark storm clouds by this point, ultimately making him difficult to spot from the noises alone as they took time to travel toward the ground.

He saw a familiar face. One he didn't like, and one that filled him with an impulsive rage that made him want to do bad deeds with his gifts. Emily G. Reed... Every story he heard, every interaction he'd witnessed, he knew she wasn't just any normal dick. She was an asshole, and Ken knew that he'd rather be a dick than an asshole... I may be dirty, but I'm not full of shit. Beside Emily was one of her cronies; Ken didn't have time to distinguish targets. He only guessed that they weren't getting killed left and right like Sycamore...
The spell effect ended, and Ken's free hand reached for another goodie. Pressure built around him slowly, a rather gentle shot flung him in a lazy way over the festival grounds. As he released and began to fly forward, he took a deep breath for Channeling his aura spell and yarded back like an MLB pitcher.

The wad of paper and colored gun powder zipped through the damp air toward Emily G. Reed and her freshly fixed costume. Ken only heard the gasping puff of air that the smoke bomb made as it released its payload all at once into a dusty cloud of smoke filled with black tar. It stuck to everything it wafted over, with Ken's dispersal of the air around him causing it to spin like a little tornado in one spot. Safe in mid air, Ken looked for the place with the most beautiful flowers, then landed somewhere inconspicuous nearby before immerging.
Surprising a port-o-potty user just getting out of their bathroom break, The Batman stood in full regalia with the sleek armor and the vaguely gothic aesthetic that he'd come to learn and like from his friend Leon and his family. He assumed they were here too, they always were on Halloween. However he had business, and frankly he hoped that Auri wouldn't take his dressing up as some kind of offence as he approached her Flower Stand. The triangle-shaped CLOSED sign wasn't such a beacon of hope, and he grumbled to himself about the damned rain. Dogwood bark was an essential part of his kit, and he pulled out a small bit of it from one of his utility belt's pockets.

Holding onto the bark tightly, Ken flicked his fingers together and apart a few times in seemingly random order, but to those whose eyes are opened, they'd see a glowing golden light overtake Kenshiro's hands, and from them poured a couple dozen tiny tree frogs of various colors and shapes. The largest one still fit well within Ken's palm, and roughly two dozen scrambled into neat and tidy rows. They even had little yukata tops on, and some were sporting headbands or other head gear. He spoke to them strictly in Japanese, and quiet so that any observing blinds would only assume he was a little crazy.
"Auri Auclair, guys. We need to find Auri; you know the Butterfly Priestess."
There was an immediate and resounding Hai!, at which point the frogs scattered to the winds as if they'd never been there in the first place. Now he was on the hunt again, and like usual, hunting without tracks.

Batman skulked into the rain, hoping to find Auri, or someone who could point him toward her.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Mood Music

The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals

---

Members: Leon, Lynette, Elise, Casey, June and Mia Richoux, Andrade Salamente, Furio Natale | Direct Dialogue: None Outside Group | Location: Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

---

"Junior, stop! Stop, I'm trying to cook! Actually cook! You see this!?"
"What the hell, I've seen you cook! You can spare a little time, look at you. Hand in your pocket, some kind of cool dude chillin' at the stove. Rapide, Monsieur!"
"Maxwell the Fifth!? Control yourself or just go!"

Leon looked back from his position at the prep counter where he'd been chopping vegetables for the kebabs that Andrade had on their menu this year. This was an every year kind of thing, and while Leon hadn't missed one, he couldn't say the same for his siblings. It was nice to have them all home this year... Even with June being June. The young man was throwing his arm around Andrade's front, trying to hold an arm behind his back in some pugnacious display of pushiness that was classic of a recently assertive Maxwell V. Beside Leon, Casey sighed deeply, and he could see his younger brother's head shake. Then there was the increased heart rate, knowing that if it was going to be anyone who got it next, it was him. Leon thoughtfully bumped Casey's arm.
"Hey, listen, Furio and a few of the other guys are supposed to be getting here for the next shift, so why don't you and me sneak off a little early and get some drinks?"
Casey's reaction was near surprise, mostly because he was spaced out on the feeling of discomfort he got around his younger brother. There had always been something in June's eyes that terrified Casey, the kind of look that he saw in some of the Veterans who had a particularly hard time readjusting to civilian life. He always wondered if they should've switched places.

"What? O-oh, right, shit... The time, man, it fuckin' flies in a kitchen."
Leon gave a shallow curved smile to his brother.
"You should ask him for a job! You seem like you really loved doing this today." he replied to Casey, throwing his head over his shoulder at Andrade.
His expression brightened in return, and the nodding confirmation gave Leon enough confidence to push it a bit more. But before he could, Casey spoke again.
"You're right, I really should. Honestly I even loved chow duty when we were in the rear bases; I'd always volunteer to help. When he's not busy, y'know?"
"Of course dude! Yeah, it'll be real good for you, helps you transition fully into the mundane."

While the Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals rented space for three different booths, the boys had decided to help by doing work for the food booth that Andrade was in charge of. It was always Leon's first choice, rather than selling clothes and swag or running the informational booth. With all three of the Richoux Brothers home for this particular Equinox. There was going to be a bigger celebration at the Temple the next day, but for now their celebration was service to the population of St. Portwell. Their Mother and her secretary happened to be at that booth overseeing things as their covers began to pick up for dinner. She was sure to never give her son the difficult shifts, and with all three being here this year, they'd very nearly finished the opening ten hours of the festival. Currently she was dealing with June, and was quick to pick up a folder planner full of the day's checklists to wrap him over the head with.
As she did, the two plastic faces smacked together causing a clapping noise that made Casey jump again. Leon felt it, and the increased heart rate again, and shook his head.

"Ma, can you not, please?"
"Leon Hunter, do not butt in."
"Yeah Leon Hunter, or you won't get any good boy points from Mommy."
"You should stock up on them, Junie. Oh, wait, you just collect boys, nothing to do with points."
"Oh sure, jump in front of the bullet, classic Casey. Why don't you make yourself useful and go bomb another hospital in the desert?"

Leon's eyes flicked between his hands and the front of the booth where there was a line of people waiting for kebabs and burgers made by Andrade Salamente. He figured he may have some adjacent fans, and some of them may want to see a boxing demonstration, but doubted they were really here for that. He kept his hands down, laying the knife to rest on the cutting board as he spun to look at Junior. His cocky smiling face stared back, and Leon gave the best disappointed father look he could give. Casey hadn't looked up, hadn't even stopped chopping vegetables... But Leon could feel the muscles tensing as Orange Lux flowed through his brother's body.
He and Casey had a complex relationship as children, and Leon carried a great deal of regret over the circumstances; something he sought to rectify whenever he could.

But surprisingly, it was Andrade who threw the decisive action.
"What the fuck did you just say to him!?"
Leon saw Andrade pull the cast iron pan from the stove with the peppers and onions inside still sizzling, and gripped it like a club before pushing his weight into Casey.
"When he could've fucking died? You say that to your brother? Your Father would beat you senseless... Madame Lynette, please get him out of my fucking kitchen!"
"You talk about my Dad like you've got his dick up your a-"
Leon started forward, ready to go for June's collar, but ultimately the Mother Lion got in the way.

Swapping to French entirely, Lynette began to lay into Junior who ultimately shrank into his own clothes before finally being dragged out of the booth by her and down the causeway toward God knew where with the secretary of the week right behind them. The three remaining men drew breaths of relief toward one another, each of them knowing the fury that was out there for that young man. Andrade and Leon exchanged a look, both turning their heads to the crowd, who at the front had been exposed to the yelling. They tried their best to ward off curious parties, but eventually Andrade offered some food up to those effected until the line cleared out. When they had another moment to breathe, Andrade turned back to Casey and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around him.
"You know we'd never think of you like that my man. I'm sure even he doesn't, he just says-"

"The most hurtful thing possible."

The three of them spoke at the same time, and while Casey didn't look up from his work, he did laugh along with Leon and Andrade, who both gave him some reassuring pats on the back. Around the same time, Furio and the girls were showing up at the booth.

"Oh my God, it's Lee Lee!"
Mia seemed to be in a good mood today, which was good, because it seemed like it was starting to rain. She'd need it being bored all night. She brushed past Casey like he didn't exist, giving Leon a big hug and practically crawling into his arms. Behind her, Elise's quiet presence filled in the booth, and while Andrade and Furio exchanged pleasantries and the other two were occupied with cuddling, Elise took the time to notice her little brother's expression.
"Mum said Junie's on a time out? She's got him on the merchandise booth now, and he's pouting like a little kid. She asked us to come over here with Furio while the girls hang out with June and listen to him whine."

It was hard for Casey to hide his fading frustration, so he simply took a deep breath.
"I implied he was a pedophile, so he told me I should go bomb a hospital." Elise's brow furrowed.
"Over...?"
"It's more complicated than it deserves being, E. Don't worry, he's fine." Leon piped up, Mia the Barnacle having finally unsuctioned from him.
"Fine? Lee, they cannot be around one another! What the fuck are we supposed to do for a week?"

Leon scoffed and waved his had at his Sister. That same moment, Furio came into the picture, looking between the siblings. Once they stopped talking, he took it as a sign of acknowledgement.
"Just to let you know, Leon? Eight Street is out in force tonight, but I've seen pockets of your friends clustering up together.
The Big Man nodded his head, finally pulling his apron off to swap off with his baby sister. Underneath was a shirt with a clown face print on the front. A zombie clown, complete with cracker brains that said "You Crack Me Up" in bloody halloween letters. Unlike some of the others, he had to take his costume off to start work.
Casey, accurately, took this as a sign that they were finished their shift, and pulled his apron off similarly. He had gone low effort, wearing his tans from his last deployment along with his Channeler on his right hand. Handing it to his Sister, he hugged Elise tightly and spoke into her ear.

"I promise it won't be my problem, Sis. It's not me."
She hugged him back, tucking her face into his shoulder.
"I know, Honey, I know. It's not fair to you. It isn't."

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Mood Music

Leon & Casey

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Mentions:Nobody Relevant | Direct Dialogue: Adora Phoenix-Prescott/@Punished GN, Trisha Vanburen/@FernStone | Location: Festival Grounds, Cracker Island Historic District

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Eventually the two men managed to escape the booth after Leon had finished putting his costume back on. It was a rather simple ordeal of a nightgown with big red slippers, a quilt over him, and an old woman's nightcap tucked over a wolf head mask that pulled entirely over Leon's head. He had the mask pulled up like a hat while walking about the Festival so he could look at Casey, both of them with a beer in hand. There were quite a few faces he recognized, and Leon pointed them out casually while telling Casey about some of the good times he'd missed.

Not because of his time in the army, mind you, but the fact that he didn't get to be part of the Sycamore Coven. One imagined that the slippery middle Richoux would've managed to sneak into the Coven, but it seemed like whenever he was on the verge of getting into trouble, all of a sudden Lynette would be attentive again. He knew what it really was; that she'd been monitoring them all no matter how much she pretended like she didn't care. That's, of course, how she framed it. Caring. Letting Leon go out and do whatever the hell he wanted while the rest of them were forced into lives that they didn't want. It took their Father disappearing for her to let anything else happen...

The two of them walked along, sharing pleasantries in between introspections until Leon caught the noise from someone getting into a fight in his keen ear. Leon openly began to chug his beer, which lit Casey's face up as he pounded his back in solidarity. By the time he was done, Leon had patted him on the chest in a directive to follow, which he was very familiar with as a soldier, and readied himself for what he couldn't hear but his wolf brother could. Leon pulled the mask over his face so that whatever was happening wouldn't spot Leon Richoux the celebrity.
But it was strange... There were... Bees?

As the two rounded the corner, they were staring at ass rolling around on the ground and covered in bees. The honey pot, Casey thought to himself as he quickly moved to stop the fight. Leon could barely see in the wolf mask, and pulled it up again reluctantly to see a familiar face getting the better of someone.
"Holy shit, Adora!? Hey, Casey grab the one underneath, grab her! Girls, girls, Ladies, what the fuck!?" Leon felt Adora's power from the Trinity as his hands wrapped around her arms to pull her up.
Meanwhile, Casey was also being slowly covered in bees, and was thankful he'd worn full BDU tans with gloves, as he had very little exposed skin save for his face and head.