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Do you really think we've only been here 300,000 years? Construction doesn't last that long; concrete disintegrates, tar pavement erodes into the Earth from whence it came. Sapiens or Neanderthalensis, countless brother races of a genus leaving only us to carry on the legacy. We cannot disappoint them. We carry them through our blood and our souls, countless lives spanning across time in a way that we can't perceive from our physical coils. But we can't disappoint them.

Hello, hi and hey! I call myself Atom. Some call me Fen. Others call me Ego, blessing the journey of guiding the individual toward the inevitable endgame that is rejoining the flow of life. I try to keep identity suppressed as much as possible, but I'm not a fool; we're here to express our creative selves. I like to think that our love and desire for creativity carries over far beyond the personal and individual. It's a part of the music of Humanity, and I do love the dance we do.

So, creatively, who is this dork trying to kill his own ego? What's he like? Is he decent?

I'd like to think so. I'd like to think I at least know how to write technically. I'm almost always lacking motivation, but I've just been spoiled over the years. I've had a handful of teachers who have really changed the way I look at creativity and working with the individuals who I'm trying to be creative with. My biggest goal is to give that back to the people who I work with. I want to foster an environment, or at least an expectation that if we're writing together, you'll be writing with a professional.
Professional to me means courtesy and friendliness without ambiguity: A guarantee that one can always expect to be treated with the same values that I would want to be treated with.

So what do I do with my free time? A whole lot of struggling with myself for the willpower and discipline to muster the ultimate muse. So far I've managed to get strong inclination toward effort and motion again, but inclination isn't guaranteed. We've really gotta MOVE THOSE MUSCLES! That's what I'm here for! I want to talk to people about ideas and flesh scenarios out with people that I'm interested in, and I do hope to find others with the same strong sense of creativity that I have. I want to push and pull and stretch the dough of creativity, top it with the things we want to devour, and dive into the pizza we've made together with skill and love!

Lets make it happen together!

Most Recent Posts


Edict

Mentions: Auri Auclair, George Nelson, Jack Hawthorne| Direct Dialogue: Britney Williams/@Shin Ghost Note, Linqian Han/@FernStone | Location: Kari’s House

It was time to plow the fields. Greyson’s legs slipped from underneath warm linens and met an unwarmed rug at his feet. Groggy, not entirely awake, he stood to meet the new day and made for his wristwatch. Six in the morning; he was glad they didn’t need to worry about the bigger fields, and that some of the guys had probably been working overnight. It meant they were on track, possibly ahead of schedule for everything. They’d already taken care of a lot of the draining and furrowing, making sure the ditches were clear for this year’s harvest.

It’d been a few years since he turned his life around. He wasn’t legit by any means, but violent crime? The kind of things he used to do? It paid to have handed over an organization like Dollhouse to the PRA. It went deeper than witness protection, it meant that he didn’t have to live looking over his shoulder at his brothers and uncle. He was in the clear.
His body turned, making way for a drawer for some pants. His gaze passed to the other side of the bed, and sure enough she was already out and about. Probably getting breakfast ready for Carlo and Aaliyah, or… Out? Checking on the progress?

Plantation life wasn’t so bad. The house was big, the land was theirs, the business that came with it was good. High quality cigar tobacco and other native agricultural endeavors. Peppers, sugar cane closer to the water, peanuts… There was a pecan grove as well, and some of the production space and costs were spent on processing the edibles into actual goods. The profit was too high compared to selling off raw product, why not double dip?
But it was the fact that she took interest in it… That she got up earlier than him, and that they were both able to handle their business despite the different hours. She didn’t bitch, she didn’t complain, she…

Britney Williams had been everything he ever wanted. Support and love in a stern, matronly package. His own Mother loved her, sometimes he thought more than she loved him. And since he was just a magical middleman, like he always had been, he wasn’t so worried about what the more uptight side of his family had to say…
Not like dear old Dad had anything to say. How could he?

Greyson stretched his shoulders and looked at himself in the mirror. Vanity had faded years prior, and he wore a bearded face with curly long hair. There was no pretense left to give, no posture left to take. His stance was a Father’s. A Husband’s. A Business Owner’s, as it had always been maybe, but… The money felt nicer. Cleaner, like his soul.
He slipped a shirt on and tucked it into his belt, still maintaining a clean look regardless of whether or not he knew he was going to be sweating in the Louisiana sunshine. Moisture wicking socks, well worn boots, gloves in the back pocket.

He looked at the little lockbox on the dresser and ran his fingers over it. Another time, another world. It was over, thankfully. They could live normally. He was clean. He didn’t need what was in the box.
Steps took him down the hall, his son’s bedroom door already wide open. Carlo… A real go-getter. Ambitious just like every Devola, but thoughtful. Sweet. Like his Mom. Chances were, he was doing his chores before school as he’d grown accustomed to. Greyson smiled in acknowledgement, running a hand down the wall and feeling how real it was in between his fingers. How surreal the feeling was. He must’ve had a dream, about fighting and shooting and being scared. Waking up nostalgic wasn’t normal.

He came down the stairs into the main foyer of the big plantation house they lived in together. It was full of pictures and nicknacks from St. Portwell and beyond. Family trips abroad, occasional reunions… He’d made up with a lot of the people he hurt. Purposefully, he kept a picture of himself and a few of the most troubled relationships in pretty visible places. A way to remember that he’d come out on top, and that every moment after was precious.

Strides took him toward the sound of music, past the kitchen and out into the attached greenhouse.



He couldn’t help but dance, coming into view of his beloved as he did so. The whole place smelled like the thick buds of homegrown in various stages of growing and drying and curing.
”Ooooh girl, you’re killing me.” he grinned, moving closer and leaning in to kiss Britney on the top of her head.
”What happened to our plans when we got married? No chance we’re getting up before ten in the morning… How long have you been up?”
”What happened to us living a simple life?”

She had gloves and a pair of scissors, trimming away at the latest dry. A fresh, clean gallon glass jar sat at her feet, and she was carefully putting the plant material into it. There was a grin on her face.
”This ain’t simple?”
”Well, you want to ask silly questions… I’ve been up all night.”
”You ain’t come to bed?”
Britney shook her head. Greyson’s face became a small frown. He leaned forward, arms wrapping around her shoulders in a loving embrace. He gently shook Britney back and forth.

”You can't stay awake forever. It's just going to happen one day…”
”He nearly killed them and we're going to have to deal with it.”
Greyson frowned. His boy… He finally came into his own and Kindled. And it was an interesting combination to be sure.
He couldn't lie and say he didn't take a little pride in it. The whole morning had been a bit emotional between Father and Son, and ultimately ended at a dinner that night.

The little moralist saw his Mother dealing with a particularly nasty local over a foolish disagreement. Between his love and desire to protect, and the raging temper that lay bubbling beneath the surface, he Kindled there to protect her.
But unlike Edict's soft Lotus, Carlo's inner powers were hot.

While they didn't get a lot of info from the hospital, they were aware that the local was suffering third degree burns over parts of his body that shouldn't have been accessible. A fire in the brain cavity left it all but dead, and the man would live out the remainder of his days in a tortuous vegetative state.

Greyson shouldn't have been proud that his son could literally light people's brains on fire. Clearly Britney wasn't thrilled. It was keeping her up.
”Where is he?”
”Field B. Probably closer to the Delta, you know the spot he likes.”
Greyson held Britney for a few more minutes.

”Can you sleep now that I'm on shift?”
”Why you want me asleep so damn bad?”
He chuckled, shaking his head and letting her go.
”Baby on board. You sleep, she sleeps.”
”Tell that to the last one… Lil’ bitch kept me up for weeks with those feet."
Greyson smiled, rubbing Britney's shoulders a little while longer before finally pulling himself away. There was shouting outside, people were frantic.

With a furrowed brow, Greyson moved toward the front to check things out.

Edict was one of the last people still fully captured by the pink mist. His brain, deeply craving the pleasure of a life he was growing more sure that he'd never see, did its best to hold him tight.

And he was going to let it. If he could've stayed there and lived through all of it, he would've chosen to. Such a well made, warm fanta-
He was on his knees. He must've dropped to avoid the hunk of Earth George was about to throw, and when his eyes were his again, the Giant was gone.

And he hadn't even gotten to see his children.
”Shout your name if you can hear me!”
”Britney!”
He immediately stood, turning and looking in the direction he heard Britney in. There were still zombies left about, dancing their undead hearts out.

”Greyson!... I'm fuckin'-…" he started, grabbing his head in pain. "Jack!? Where the hell is Jack, he was just with me! Brit!?”
Greyson was already making his way to Britney when he also found a naked Linqian.
”Jesus… here.”
With a swift dexterity, he unclipped his vest and slipped it onto the ground before tugging his jacket off and passing it down to the woman. The vest went back on over his shirt now.
”You guys are okay? Jesus Christ on a tall bike I was so fucking worried…”

Kenshiro

Mentions: Kari Wilson, Maya Choi, Agents of Death, Jack Hawthorne, Drake Blackmore, Hannako and Kenichi Murakin | Direct Dialogue: Evelynn Serenelight/@NoriWasHere | Location: Kari's House > Another Time, Another Place, Another World > The Aftermath

The hourglass shattered in Ken's hand, its light wood frame snapping in half alongside. Due to a quirk of his "armor", air was taken in through a complicated pump system that invariably left him vulnerable to gasses and airborne toxins while it was running. With the siphon of air being so strong, the pink gas was dragged directly into his lungs. He only made it a few more feet before he wasn't really there anymore. Taking a whiff of it was like being too easy around Greyson, one slip and you're in a whole new world. His eyes blinked rapidly, the last step he took in reality translating into another stride. More. He was running. The ground was muddy, it was warm, the jungle around him buzzed with insects and other things. He felt the weight of his first companion on his shoulder, a toad the size of a cat making gentle gurgling noises as its soft underside bounced into the boney outcropping on which it sat.
The pond was dead ahead; he could make out dozens of figures, like the whole village had come out that day for a swim. Kaiko, Sochi, Iida Tenpo, Junichi, Jack, Drake, Saskia and the girls, Kari and Hannako a-

Something compelled him to stop. Like this wasn't normal. Like they hadn't all been through a hellish week after the Provings, and were finally able to cut loose for a day. They were adults now, all of them! Sixteen! Soon they'd all be assigned duties, and they'd live in the working dormatories until they were promoted, or they made their Golden Band. Either way, things were going to be amazing!

Reactively, the airways shut tight. The body, and the Lux within, knew there was a pathogen as the channeled spells Ken held tightest became loose and unwilling to go on. Still, he pressed toward Kari and Hannako. He'd been trying to decide for the longest which he'd really persue, because both were awesome in his mind. They had fantastic qualities, and they really didn't even have to do with the physical. Kari was so adventurous, so much fun to be around. And she came with her own friends, a whole group, and he liked them too! He imagined a world where they'd all live in a big clan-house, that the Murakin Estate would wind up his through virtue of merit.
But Hannako was strong! Better than him, he felt. Like there was a rival he could really push himself to be the absolute best alongside, and that even if she overshadowed him they'd still have a personal relationship that was stronger than any outward perception. She was due soon, so...

Wait, no... That hadn't happened yet, right? They weren't married. He hadn't even met...

There was fire. Black and blue, Corpsefire ravaging the village center and the buildings therein. There weren't even enemies to fight. He was screaming, sprinting, the doors to the temple flew open and revealed the Fiend. The Stygian Snake, enscrolled in dark black and bronze robes. Hannako-No, no, Kari... No.
"KENICHI!?"
Bodies were everywhere, burning in the Corpseflame forever caught in that moment of pain and agony. A baby boy laid bare upon the floor, his mother curled around him to protect the infant. Dozens had died for this. For Kenshiro to come and rescue his only Son. He wrapped the boy in a cloth, still screaming in pain as the flames licked at his back. It was a mad dash to the Pond... To Tennogama. To the only creature that could still save his baby from his own fate...

"TAKE HIM... PLEASE!"

And then there was nothingness. His body finally gave out from lack of oxygen. Even in that moment, he hit the ground with the equivalent force of a six ton statue being toppled. The ground beneath him buckled, the dirt swallowing him until the last bit of unconscious Lux faded from him. Oxygen free of the mist hit his mouth and lungs, and he gasped in mud and water as consciousness rushed back. He was in a wet hole. Buried alive. Dying. As best he could he cupped his mouth and pushed outward. Lux filled his hands and burst the dirt away, physical body crawling from the hole in regaining consciousness.
He felt roots or something similar dragging against him, holding onto him, keeping him in the wet mud. As he crawled out, it was another gasp of the mist. When he turned and sat, legs still in the hole as he tried to process what the hell was going on, it hit him again.

"They buried us together, Kenshiro. And it was beautiful."
"I didn't see, Hanna... I was... Occupied."
"We never could've known, could we? But I'm glad you saved him. I'm ecstatic, actually. Because of you, he lived to avenge us. To set things right."
"Did he?" Ken's face twisted into a grief filled smile. "Not something I ever could've done. It makes me so proud. It was worth it... I made the right choice."
"I... I think if you had to, you could've. But its much nicer that he gets to rebuild. That's how things should be."

Ken looked down into the hole. His bare feet splashed in the pond. Across from him, Hannako smiled. But it wasn't Hannako... It was Kari. It was the pond outside St. Portwell. His home now. He was sitting on the dock, and she was in the water in front of him.
"What're you thinking about?"
"Shit I can't change."

And then it was all gone. Kenshiro looked around, covered in mud and zombie parts as he'd fallen atop a few of them and re-entombed them. Though he wasn't sure as to why he was no longer hallucinating, he was one hundred percent sure that Kari couldn't swim, which he assumed was a dream. 8th Street was gone, and now he had to deal with the aftermath. There was a great pain in his chest from the fact that it'd all been nothing, since it really was better. But they had to wait again. If Lynn was right, he'd have a chance to tell Kari how he really felt. Maybe... But he had to get there.
He rose to his feet, shaking things off and making sure his equipment hadn't come loose. He checked the loose pocket, finding a number that hadn't been there.
"Real funny..."
He shook his head, once again looking for Lynn. He found her not far off, probably feeling the exact same way he was.
"Lynn! Lynn!?"

Making it to her side, he grabbed her by the shoulders to try and get her out of the mud.
"Lynn!? It's Ken! I'm real, it's... It's all an illusion, come on! We've gotta get the others and get out of here before something worse happens!"
@AtomicEmperor I mean...he's gotta bring something juicy to the table regarding her kid for her to take him off the list. She won't be easy to make happy either.


Besides advice to get out of dodge and a lump sum of cash to insure she can? No clue, he's probably fucked LMAO
@silvermist1116Chances of Tayla and Greyson hashing things out??? Never zero, right!? Right!?

Kenshiro

Mentions: Emily G. Reed, Kari Wilson, Carol Doyle, Evelynn Serenelight]| Direct Dialogue: Maya Choi/@FernStone | Location: Kari's House


Ken listened to what Lynn had to say as best he could. If Kari was still alive, and Lynn was telling the truth about the future she saw, then things were only going to get more complicated here. But Maya Choi wasn't someone to be easily played with, and Ken knew it wasn't going to be easy shaking her to get to Carol. He could outpace her easily, but the motivating factor was Evelynn's safety now.

If she knew Kari was alive, maybe she'd be able to help find their favorite girl. Would she leave him for her? He couldn't know. Maybe she had her hand in all of this, and it wouldn't even matter. For now, he had two goals: Beat Maya Choi's ass, and live long enough to see Kari again.
They already blew up her house. There were probably a couple of otherworldly rocks in the explosion that survived, but all the feathers. All the little things. All gone.

It sent Ken into a battle trance just thinking about it. Sound and sand meant nothing in the long run when you spent your time in a vacuum sealed bubble, but magical sound was different. It didn't need air to travel, it didn't need a medium to exist in. It simply penetrated every single defensive layer short of his Emotional Field.

Lynn had said to go for Carol, but as the zombies rolled in and Maya managed to force him out of the pocket they met in, damage control became top priority. If Maya was paying attention to him, it meant she wasn't watching Lynn.
“Go, now! Anyone who can run, run!”

He took advantage of being blasted by Maya's amplifiers, feeling his guts and other soft parts recoiling from the acoustic reverberations as his voice echoed across the battlefield.

Carol, Carol… What the fuck was happening? He couldn't keep track, all he knew was that things weren't good, and he had to cover. Or did he?
Maya was like a glue he couldn't shake. He didn't want her rushing back to Lynn, or worse fucking with someone like Stormy who was clearly trying to get the Hulking Dead taken care of.

Fuck it. They had zombies, he had toads. The two combatants' movements had kicked up a lot of errant dirt and stone, and Ken had slowly collected them in his field as they danced about. Once he had enough, he swung them forward and shifted their momentum with false weight that launched the pile like a blunderbuss payload. Even if it didn't hit Maya, the nightmare of having a hundred or so supersonic rocks traveling at her would be a real audio treat.

In the distraction, Ken went for a pouch on his hip and pulled out several slips of warm green paper. Dollar bills: Real federal currency that was about to be defiled in the most glorious way. Freshly washed, Ken stuffed the paper into his mouth as he channeled a great deal of Gold Lux. He felt the curse mark on his back react, contracting and waiting as if it was going to be one of those times again…
But he needed coverage. Or needed Maya distracted. Something had to give.

As the money moistened in his mouth, he could feel it burning up on his tongue. Maya attacked again, and all he could do was accept it as his body rattled from the pressure.
But he spit the wet wad out onto the ground, and it was no longer money. An otherworldly toad barked out into the air and took a couple hops before a huff of golden smoke filled the air. Maya was now surrounded.

Ten figures, standing roughly the same height as Clancy, golden eyes peering out from beneath various hats and masks. A single sonorous ribbit vibrated the ground around them.
Ten Bullfrog Mercenaries with bladed weapons gleaming instantly scattered across the battlefield in mighty hops. A few went for Lynn, to keep her protected. The bulk went for Carol, mindful of Clancy as they bound into combat with furious ribbits and equally furious weapon strikes.

And then Ken noticed the blood. It was his, no doubt from his ears, and a potent sign that this wasn't going anywhere. He'd have to get close and break her off a stronger piece. Ken's body surged forward with tremendous speed, the noise only getting worse until he had to stop again. It wasn't like he wanted to, of course, the body simply reacted to this kind of pain. It was involuntary.
But he was close. Close enough to suck the atmosphere away from her too as the pressure around them swapped. All at once, he tried to rip her from the ground..

He reached back, grabbed the last hourglass, and attempted to smash it over Maya's head.
“Dojo!”
An extra burst of pressure from behind, he hoped, would make her struggle enough that she'd get caught in the impact.
“You're mine!”


Edict

Mentions: Emily G. Reed, Clancy Patrick, Sully Mcpherson, Britney Williams| Direct Dialogue: Jack Hawthorne/@Blizz | Location: Kari’s House

Edict was scared to death by the sudden appearance of Classic Jack. Nothing like watching your prized gift go up in a useless explosion only to have someone scare the shit out of you in the middle of an active combat zone.
“Jesus Christ! Jack!?”
At least it was someone useful. It could've been McPherson. Big body, no brain to go with it. But it was the man with the bad habit himself, teleporting about as usual.

“I was fucking a nun, Jack, what's it matter where I was!? Catch me up!”
Edict stuck his hand out, and Jack clasped it in a shake as the Recollective power of all Adepts rushed into his mind. He got a great view from Jack's perspective, and the rundown finished with a deep breath.
“Fucking Emily, Man… I knew things were gonna-”
Edict shuffled, getting up from his cover and starting to move toward the ice wall.
“Just get me over! No way they're getting Britney on my fuckin’ watch, not after all the hard work!”

Whatever hard work he meant wasn't clear, but he stared at Jack expectantly.
“Please!”

”Stay close, and we can all get out of there alive.” In one hand, a solid black scythe appeared. Jack held the other out to Edict with a very pissed off look in his eyes.

”There were easier ways for them to kill themselves.”
“God damn ri-”
The old familiarity of the split second shunting between shadows was a feeling Edict had forgotten until then. It was always so jarring, especially reorienting at the destination. Vision was blurry, sounds muffled, but he could still cast.

There were zombies, frogs, corpses exploding, the smell of fire all around, yelling and screaming. Ken's voice echoed like a loud speaker telling everyone to run. He wasn't planning on it. Across the field, dozens and dozens of corpses shambled and clogged up pathways to get in and out of the action.
Remembering the Stygian Snake back in the day, Zombies were always a painfully annoying byproduct of the otherwise mostly harmless Black Lux varieties. Rarely did they do more than get in the way.

He needed that now.

“You're the Man, Jackie! Now keep out of the line of fire, and get to Britney! Keep her safe!”

His sunglasses shimmered with Pink Lux as he took a deep breath. There was a wide burst of his energy as Edict allowed the mental image of his powers to unfurl into complete openness.
Now watch, you doubters, as I show you what true Pink Lux can do!
The tendrils of his energy burst forth by the hundreds. Each one sunk into an individual Zombie until all the threads connected back to Edict.
“Pink Lotus’ Guiding Principle! Power Word: Dance!”



The command took a moment to spread, but once it started hitting the legion of undead, they began to halt. Their rotting limbs gained supple movement,and dexterity that wasn't their own trickled into their near worthless minds until each had only one compulsion. The obvious compulsion.
In their various degrees of decay, the hordes began to break it down to an unheard tune. Some frantically gyrated until they came apart. Others found a rhythm, staying whole but trapped.

Edict began to run through the crowds of inactive corpses now, knowing that whatever Necromancer was in charge would be doing their best to clear his little brain bomb before they'd probably refocus on him. He had to find targets. The submachine gun was shouldered, and Edict started to rattle off shots toward a nearby melee. If they hit, the magically enhanced bullets would calculate penetration distance on their own before being compelled to fracture and separate with greater force than they normally would.

These bullets penetrate and explode! It was great for Edict. Not so great for Clancy and the people he was fighting, however.

Kenshiro

Mentions: Emily G. Reed, Kari Wilson, Britney Williams, Luca Olivera | Direct Dialogue: Evelynn Serenelight/@NoriWasHere | Location: Kari's House

The life of a Dummy Buddy was one often fraught with danger and uncertainty. However, moments like this were better. It was like spending a night in heaven, or a fantastical lucid dream in which you could feel every single bit of passion and pleasure. Even the feeling of Shimmer air on its false skin made it writhe with internal ecstasy, so much so that it didn't even mind being the summoner's pet. It was glad to do as Kenshiro asked, and did as it was told. It smiled, kept a heroic face, and waited to be a simple anchor point. A bait and switch that could be necessary at any point in time.
Kenshiro knew he could just swap places with a random chunk of air, but leaving behind an exact copy that gave off heat and energy made for a useful tool, especially in split second timing. For that faith, that he could be useful to a God in Heaven, the Buddy was more than grateful.

He was happy to keep a brave face as others scrambled through the house. He stayed right where Kenshiro wanted him: Near the front door. There was shouting and yelling, something about someone called Britney. He was fascinated listening to their strange language he could almost totally perceive through passive absorption. The one called Luca was so close, the Dummy could smell the not-right blood in their veins. He wondered if that one knew they were dying.
But the thought was cut short. There was a wave of heat, and the dream ended. The Dummy awoke in its own world. Impact. Violence.

Kenshiro watched as the house was engulfed. There was no time to be mournful or reminiscent, as actions spoke so much louder than words in these trying times. Ken felt the need to release himself upon an opponent who would love to kill him just as much as he'd love to kill her. For all of them.

"Emily G. Reed!"


Kenshiro's voice was leveled like a sonic boom, a telekinetic cone amplifying his voice to an incredible decibel. The pockets of air exploding in the sky diverted the hail of incoming crude missile fire, while Ken's body wrapped itself in a tight, purple shimmering energy. It was as if he was completely fading out of existence as the divergent pressure fields surrounding him whipped air into a spherical screen of purple static. This sphere quickly darted about the sky in a seemingly uncontrolled pathway, accelerating and decelerating in rapid fashion until it began to make a very clear b-line for Emily.
Within the field, Kenshiro was holding his breath within the pressureless void as he did his best to control his ever-shifting mass and momentum in a bid to hit Emily G. Reed with so much weight and pressure that she'd never have the chance to move. With a struggle, one arm reached into his vest and removed a small band of copper. He was going to need every second he could get.

"Haste!"
The copper wire fizzled out of existence. Beneath Ken's headband, a symbol formed in Purple that held the spell's energy. Three extra seconds of perception. The difference between life and death. With a moment, he slowed time to a crawl, catching Emily's silhouette in the back of the monstrosity before flicking and sending his entire momentum toward her and the back of the corpse beast. His hand reached backward, pulling an hourglass from a specially made pocket. It was covered in runes, and as soon as it entered Kenshiro's hand it began to glow a ghastly shade of purple.
From the sphere, he shot himself like a bullet from a randomly generated gun barrel, a massive explosion popping off a burst of purple energy in the sky.

It was way too fast.

Unable to readjust with his second, as Emily's movements brought her out of his effective range with such a smoothness that even he was a little impressed. He was sent clear through the flesh beast's thigh, blowing a hole in it the size of a small vehicle before ultimately careening into the ground. Two dozen feet of subterranean tilling later, and the ground collapsed in front of Evelynn Serenelight and Amara King. Ken climbed from the Earth's open wound no worse for wear. His face met Lynn's, and for the first time in a little while, he smiled at her.
"You're not a fighter... Kari wouldn't want you hurt, would she?"
He pointed downward toward the hole he'd made.
"It's safer down there. Anything dangerous will go over your head. Your other option is leaving... I can make it happen. But you need to find Her! Do you understand? Even if she is dead, you need to be alive to honor Her. Lynn Serenelight... Choose!"

Edict: This Whole "Void Heart Thing"

Mentions: A Five Part Narrative Collaboration featuring:@FernStone, @Estylwen and @Punished GN | Direct Dialogue: Henri Han, Phantasia Vorpal, Anya Baksh, and some Special Guests |
Location: Several Locations

Part One: November 2nd, 11:00am
A Random Bus Stop
Henri Han by @FernStone

It was much earlier in the morning than Henri would normally get out - not that he was a late riser, just incredibly lazy when it came to getting out of the house. But he had a mission today! Well, more a meeting… but a very fun one! He hadn’t expected to be able to see Greyson, his big sister’s super cool friend, so soon after the Halloween festival. Yet here he was! Wandering down a street he was pretty sure he’d never been down towards a bus stop he didn’t know the route of. But it was all good! Life was all about new experiences.

He had no idea where they were actually going… Maybe they were going to take a bus out to the mountains (if there were any nearby) and go through a whole training montage like the action films he saw! Probably not, probably not, but it was a fun thought. He made sure to keep a look out as he watched, head darting about as he looked for the familiar, charismatic figure while trying to keep his mind open for any… mental taps.

There wasn’t a great deal of time for Henri to be spacing out as the familiar flashing began to probe his Emotional Field. Edict was plenty used to casting and driving, but the current maneuver was a bit risky. It was essentially a broadcast, something like the ice cream truck rolling down the street, except for magical people. It wasn’t terribly long ranged, and he was expecting to get a reflection back which would let him hone the signal, but if someone else came into it he knew he had to be quick on the draw.

Anyone from Sycamore would recognize him from the signal alone. Caution was necessary.

He had stopped by the local Chinese market the other night to probe out some Mandarin knowledge, and he picked up the character for Brother which he continuously flashed in big pink print until he had the boy somewhere vaguely in his view. Thankfully most of the Blinds in the area were inside, tucked just outside his reach from the lane in the street.
He was driving his favorite part about being home; the old Cadillac painted in black and red and gold like some villain from the disco era come back to haunt the living. They called her “Smokey”, the rolling five-hundred cubic inch V8 motor rumbling beneath her hood in all of its slow, meandering glory.

He had the roof and windows up, and as he got closer to Henri, he cut the signal off. The massive body of the Cadillac coasted to a stop at the curb. The passenger side window rolled down.
”Di-di! Hey! No spacing out, Henri, get in the car!”

”Huh?!” Henri’s head snapped around, thinking for a moment that he’d misheard. Didi… Sometimes Linqian would call him that when she was feeling extra nice, but normally it’d just been Jinhai. He teared up a bit, wiping his eyes and jumping into action. He pulled open the passenger door, got in, and immediately twisted around to grin at Edict.

”This is a fucking sweet car! Wait, don’t tell my sister that I swore- she’s real annoying about it as if I’m still a child. But wow, I didn’t think old cars could be nice. Ours was like... Falling apart. Pretty sure I can drive anything after learning in that! At least I don't have to worry ‘bout getting stranded thanks to Jie’s new boss and the guy who wrecked the old one… did us a favor honestly. If I ever meet him ima thank him for saving me from crashing it myself just to force her to get a new one.” From when he got into the car, Henri just didn’t stop talking. He was practically vibrating in the seat, as if filled with energy that had nowhere to go. ”But this is so fucking cool!”

Edict grinned and leaned in a little toward Henri as they pulled away from the spot.
”Henri? I’m Jie’s new boss, you fuckin’ goober.” he was laughing as his head turned back to face the road.
In a lot of ways, Henri reminded Edict of a younger Kali; their enthusiasm for things they didn’t know about or understand seemed insatiable, and it was well appreciated energy.

He grinned to himself as the car rumbled along.
”Did she tell you that a werewolf crashed her car? Well, from what I hear, she actually hit the werewolf, but also he’s a friend of ours so it’s kind of… Well, you know. Friends break your stuff, they fix it. In Leon’s case, he’s rich. He just grabbed a car from a random lot and made sure it was nice and safe before he gave it to her. And I made sure she got the nice one.”
Edict beamed as he could already feel the sick addiction to praise welling in his chest, knowing this teenager was about to go from looking at him like a cool dude to looking at him like he was a fucking God.

”Wha- you? You’re her new boss?” His mouth fell open, so far that his jaw practically unhinged. He knew her new boss had to someone she knew, because she’d managed to find the job so quickly after moving back but… he hadn’t expected it to be him! This revelation was so big to him that he completely ignored the bit about a werewolf crashing into the car. ”That car is fucking nice. So nice she won’t lemme drive it! She gave me the other one, so I can’t complain, but wow… When I flew back last week I was worried we were gonna get stuck between Portland and here but then she takes me to this awesome, new car and I’m like whoa. Where'd you get the money for that? None of her old bosses ever got her a car! Nepotism works out, I guess… she’s got you as one boss and Uncle Andre- oh, close family friend- as another. Sweet deal.”

He grinned, looking at Edict like he’d hung all the stars in the sky rather than just providing a car and a job. He then held a finger up.
”But, you shouldn’t call her Jie. I’m just guessing, but you seem a bit older than her, right? Jie means big sister, you shouldn’t use it with someone younger. You should call her…” he paused, smile turning evil. ”Meimei when you next see her. She’ll love it.”

Edict cackled like a maniac as the sincerest young man he’d ever met was telling him that his sister would love being called little sister by him of all people. He imagined it going down so well; the mean-mugging and the cussing. The rage.
”Oh no, definitely not. I only called her that to you because that’s what you’re most comfortable knowing her as. It’s referential, not personal. She’ll always be Linqian to me, and I’m sure she would get touchy if I tried speaking Mandarin around her. Not that I know much, just what I can mind-read off of people like you.”

As he said “you”, Edict shot a hand across the seat and ruffled Henri’s curly mop.

”Look at you, man… You look just like Jinhai at your age. You… I bet you miss him a lot too, huh? Linqian without Jinhai is a lot like peanut butter without the bananas, at least for me. I thought for a long time I was going to like the peanut butter once the bananas were gone, but now something’s missing. And, I’m really sorry about that, Di-Di. And I’m sorry Linqian hasn’t been truthful to you about how he died…

Edict let the words echo across the car. He wasn’t lying, per se. He did miss Jinhai, mostly because despite everything else, he knew what banter was. He never had a problem telling Edict that he wasn’t liked, but he also never had a problem exchanging jabs whenever the opportunity came.
Granted, him not being here made stunts like this a thousand percent easier.

”Yeah, I do…” Henri trailed off, turning to look out the window for a moment. He loved his sister, she was more like a mom to him than the actual mother he could barely remember. But it was the same for Jinhai. And Jinhai had been around more. Henri knew it was because Linqian was working hard for them. At one point she’d been working so many hours at multiple jobs that she’d only been able to come home to nap before going back out again. But it meant he was closer to Jinhai… just a bit. ”It’s not the same without him around… but I bet Jie’s feeling the same way. Ge was with her for her whole life. They had plans, I think. She was definitely planning to work less…”

He shook his head, turning to look back at Edict. ”But, what do you mean she hasn’t been truthful? He was stabbed. I saw the police report and everything. She wouldn’t let me see the body before we cremated him, but she wasn’t lying about that. She wouldn’t.”

Edict’s head shifted back and forth several times like a snake slithering upward toward a higher perch. The grimace on his face was born of consideration, carefully choosing his next words. There was a fine line between the truth that Linqian had given him and what was real. But, frankly, the truth put the kid in danger. It was necessary; for him to grow.

”When we were a bit younger than you, sixteen, seventeen… There was a war in this city between a monster that wanted to destroy the world, and a bunch of teenage wizards. It’s how we met, its where we learned to use our powers: Now there’s someone out there killing our club. Our Coven.”
His face was stern, and he gave Henri a frown.
”Linqian’s not gonna tell you. She figures, since you’re not one of us, that whoever is responsible for these murders isn’t going to hurt you. But I don’t think you deserve to be blindsided. Especially if you have a chance of defending yourself.”

Henri's eyes widened, and the gears in his head were visibly turning. It was a lot to take in… ten years ago was when his parents had died, something he didn't remember even though he'd been there. Linqian and Jinhai said it was a natural disaster, and then spent the next month or so with a group of friends for 'support'... It must have been that monster. But-

”If they're killing everyone in your group then… that means Jie's in danger too.” Henri's expression swapped near immediately, from a bright and sunny smile to wide eyed fear and a harsh frown. ”That's why she's back here… something's trying to kill her and she didn't even tell me- but how can I defend myself against it if Ge couldn't?! He was like. Super smart… how will she defend herself? Fuck.”

Just like that, Henri was beginning to spiral into a full crisis.

”Henri, I need you to be strong because I’m trusting you. Alright? Listen to me. We need to talk about how I can help you get through this as well, because I won’t be able to do things for you that I can for others. It’s… Too dangerous.”

Scrubbing Henri’s mind of fear and panic would only bring more attention onto Edict if Linqian noticed. This was already a big risk, but… Well, what was life without a little havoc?
”I am so serious that your sister cannot know about us meeting. You can’t tell her. It will get the both of us in too much trouble, and you’ll never hear the end of it… But, you are going to come clean about your magic. You’re going to confess like you don’t know she knows, capice? Like you’re a freak, like you’ve lived with a disease all your life and you’re getting it off your chest.”

Henri was nodding along, taking deep breaths to calm himself down, right up until he was told to tell Linqian about his magic. His head snapped around to stare at Edict.
”But… but… she didn't tell me about it in the first place, that must've been for a reason, right?! If I tell her she'll just have another thing to worry about-”

He shook his head, raising a hand to his mouth and nibbling on his nails for a moment. Actually, maybe that was wrong. Maybe it would mean she didn't have to worry as much. Yeah! That was right, then she wouldn't have to worry about him also being in danger and he'd be able to protect her. Yeah! He'd have to get better at magic first but… he could do that!
”No, you're right- of course you're right. I have to be strong- and to be able to do that I need to tell her about it. I'll make sure to act like my life depends on it. Uh, lemme check…” Henri got out his phone, pulling up the work schedule Linqian had sent him. ”She's working the next three days… I'll tell her in four! You can hold me to that- assuming she isn't doing any work for you that day- and, uh, I dunno. I'll pay some kinda penalty if I don't!”

Edict furrowed his brow, unsure of the young man’s situational awareness. It seemed like either he hadn’t grasped the absolute gravity of the situation, or he simply wasn’t bothered by it.
”Penalty schmenalty, my man. It’s very important, the penalty could be death and you may not even see it coming. It's best you come clean to her as soon as possible, even if she doesn’t want to help you learn. Even if she says that she wants you to give it all up. You’re going to learn, and I’m going to help you, because there’s gonna be a time when she’s going to need to lean on you. Understand that?”

”I understand,” Henri nodded - he mostly understood. The gravity of the situation hadn't sunk in, and was unlikely too. Henri had most been sheltered from the realities of loss by his siblings and had basically coasted through life. Even with Jinhai dead, it didn't quite seem real to him. But he could do what Edict was telling him to. ”She won't want to help me learn- well, she won't have time to anyway. But I definitely will learn! Right now I can hardly do anything with it… all I can do is suck in some light and then shoot it back out, or make myself stronger with it. I have no idea how to make it better, or about anything, really… if that killer comes for Jie now I won't be able to do anything. Fuck, I thought it would just be a fun thing I could like a party trick.”

Edict shook his head as he pulled the car up to a quiet looking warehouse down by the harbor. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a private place that the two of them would still have the benefit of being protected. One of his Uncle’s facilities, the place was staffed by a group of guards and a few other people responsible for the computer work being done inside. It was a large place full of containers and shelves that stacked from the floor to the ceiling, and several open-ceiling rooms on the first and second floor that served as office spaces.

”Its important you know that your sister’s work for me has nothing to do with my everyday business. Important because I don’t want you accidentally implicating her, or conflating her employment with what I do.”
Edict slowly walked to the side of the building, wrapping his knuckles against the door in a targeted fashion. The metal slider flicked open, and two eyes peered out at the two of them before it slammed shut and the door fully opened.
”My business is… Not for you to be involved in either. I don’t want you getting any thoughts about bags of money or jewelry heists: I am an import/export specialist, and that’s all you need to know.”

Men in suits. Pinstripes, colorful ties, Uzi machine pistols hanging from their shoulders on slings. Some of them looked hard, like they’d been cut from stone blocks, and they stared at Henri with barely contained hostility. When Edict caught one of their gazes, he stuffed him with his shoulder and stared at him like a predator defending its young.
”The fuck are you looking at, Rudy? Eh?”
The man immediately softened and backed down, and they continued on through the facility to a set of stairs that went down.

The concrete room was something like a secret hideout: The walls were paneled with dark wood, and there was a bar with nobody at the helm along with some gambling tables. Craps, poker, roulette, the more that came into focus the more clear it would be that the place was an illegal gambling den. It was personal, for family use, and there weren’t any games scheduled for a while.

Edict had a briefcase with him, and he put it up on the bar.
”Alright… So, first thing’s first, you come on over and sit here on this couch.” he said, patting the arm of the couch next to him. From the case, he produced a pen and a pad of paper.

Henri was just a little bit overwhelmed. Just a little bit. But not a lot, because he was someone who could totally handle anything, including the fact that Linqian's boss slash friend was possibly some kind of criminal. Mobster? He didn't really know about these things outside of movies. He was cool like in the movies. And this place looked like some kinda gambling den right outta a movie! What the fuck- it was a lot to be hit with… thank god his sister wasn't involved in any of that. Henri didn't want to be involved in that either! Then what work did his sister do for him? Wait, no, he shouldn't ask. He wasn't even supposed to know who her boss was. It was totally fine.

With a nod, Henri super confidently walked over to the couch and definitely didn't trip over his own feet on the way. He saved it with a half twist of his hips, turning around awkwardly and landing on the couch as if that was planned all along. Nice save!

”Sooooo… Am I about to have to sign some kinda agreement about not telling anyone about all of this?” Henri laughed, looking around. After a brief shock he'd taken all the shocks in like he did everything with life - not thinking too hard about it, and just completely chilling. It was clear the more he looked around the more energetic he got and the more questions he wanted to ask. But he held his tongue about all the ones about Edict's business. ”Y'know when I see a pad of paper I start thinking I'm back in Uni and about to have to frantically keep up with lectures- kinda stupid right? Not that this is gonna be a lecture, I hope… what is the paper and pen for?”

Looking at the notebook, it was clear the thing was well used. As Edict flipped through it, one could easily see it was full from page to page with writing filling the margins as well. He flipped and flipped, pausing on one page to get a look at an old example before speaking again.
”No, no. You can consider this a… A formal interview. Essentially I’ll be picking through your brain, hunting for your Kindling event, observing your usage of power through memories, basically-”

He flipped the pages again, finally landing on an empty one and taking a deep breath.
”-getting your profile as a wizard down on paper, so I can examine and put a plan together for you after we talk to some professionals.”

His look was very serious, sincere as hell. To be fair, Edict didn’t really know what he was doing at all besides that he was doing what he always did: Getting as much information as possible. He was going to pick Henri’s brain for a lot more than some magic crap.
Or was he? There was a long moment where Edict considered if he was just doing this because Linqian didn’t want him to. Just to prove to her that he didn’t have to be a complete scumbag.

Or maybe he saw a kid who could be helpful, and he hated thinking that someone was wasting the potential. He stood at the precipice of a decision: A fork in the road between ruination and brotherhood.
”You, Henri Han, are a part of your family’s legacy. You carry the blood of magic passed down through countless generations, and all that influence has pooled in you. You’ve been gifted with the chance to use that magic, the Lux of your body, to do great things for your friends and family that others in this world are simply incapable of doing. With your gift, you’re able to see the flow of life beyond the mundane: Your Third Eye is open.”

He pulled his sunglasses from the pocket they were hidden in in his jacket and slipped them over his eyes, looking back up at Henri. Instantly, his Emotional Field was being bombarded by a thousand memories that Edict had seen in his life. From the mundane to the horrifying to the ecstatic. Each one beamed across the field, shattering at the side of Henri’s vision for what seemed like minutes, but had only been a few seconds.
None of it was coherent; simply a display of power.

”Your mind is naturally protected from many horrors that would otherwise make what we call a Blind a free target. An Emotional Field. And, like most stable young folks, yours is particularly strong and robust. In order for me to truly utilize my powers to help you, I’ll need to get behind that field.
Essentially, I need your consent, Henri. I need to know if you’re willing to Let. Me. In.

”I'm willing!” Henri said near immediately. He had no reason not to trust Edict - he said everything so seriously and it all made perfect sense. They needed to know what Henri could do first to figure out next steps, and it would be much faster to just let him in. His notebook was absolutely full, and seemed legit - not that Henri could read much of it in the quick flipping through.

And Edict was strong. The movie that played across Henri's vision was insane - he hadn't seen anything like it. He'd barely seen any magic beyond his own, but whoa. It was like a glimpse into Edict's life and power without truly comprehending anything… which only impressed Henri more. Combined with everything he said, giving Henri the confidence that he could be something with his magic - he could protect his sister with it.

”What do I have to do?” Henri twisted around to look at Edict, though it was difficult to make eye contact when his eyes were shaded. He tried to look as serious as possible, but his lips still twitched up towards a smile and he was shifting constantly in excitement. ”I only got magic a couple of months ago, so there isn't much to see… but just do your stuff. So how do I let you in… uh lemme try letting down my emotional field thing."

Henri furrowed his brow as he thought about it. How did he do this… was it like using his magic? Wait. The night of the Halloween festival, when Edict had initially prodded at his mind. It had been like he was trying to get in but blocked by… something. Was that his emotional field? It was like a strange barrier that he hadn't known was there, blocking the tendril that tried to slide in. He briefly closed his eyes, picturing it. A glowing forcefield around his mind, sturdily keeping anything that he didn't want to come in out. Like something right out of a movie. He just had to disable it. Suddenly realizing how to drop it.

He mentally turned off the switch, forcefield dropping. His emotional field lowered, and Edict was invited into the warm, sunshine filled room that was Henri's mind. A small living room, cluttered with family photos and cupboards half open, mess strewn across the couch. A friendly, well lived in place. It was different from the happy place of Linqian's mind - likely the apartment they'd moved to away from St Portwell. Her and Jinhai were featured in a lot of the pictures - mostly photographs of the three of them, Henri's memories with his siblings painted clearly on the walls. It was open and warm, as if there was nothing to hide, and Edict was welcome to come in and take a look at whatever he wanted to.

Edict was so used to having to open the door himself that walking into a welcome home was rather shocking. Blinds never exuded enough willpower to project Centers like this, but Adepts never trusted him enough to leave things so comfortable. It was messy, not in the sense that things were dirty or out of place. Just that things were living. It was a real place. Not some fantasy, no, Henri Han’s paradise was here on Earth. He took a mental note, and his hand blindly began to write in a strange forced code to which there was simply no key. He would, like any language, simply recognize the “words” on the page.

At first, he found it completely empty. But he could feel Henri’s breath all around him, slow and gentle. Unbothered by a new presence, unlike some who couldn’t help but get nervous. He kept looking at the pictures and things, smiling to himself at Jinhai’s own smile. The resemblance… He couldn’t help but be jealous that the three of them had gotten to land so squarely in the middle of both their heritages. It made him want to grow his hair out again.

"You totally should!" Henri said, his projection appearing within the room as well and looking around with a grin. It didn't really register with it that he'd heard Edicts thoughts rather than something he'd said out loud… if Henri heard it Edict just want him to, right? "Y'know Jie used to be ashamed of her hair… I think she got bullied a bit when they lived in China, so she straightened it for the longest time. Then she just stopped one day. Dunno what clicked there. Whereas I never cared! I mean, I was always surrounded by people with hair like mine… Mom and dad always made sure we had a bit of both cultures, and Jie and Ge tried to keep that up with me."

He grinned brightly. "I do hear that I look like him a lot."

Edict halted all outward thought, realizing how deeply he’d underestimated the young Adept. He turned, a furrowed brow on his face as he looked at the fridge and made his way toward it. Opening it up, it was full. A total projection, without any sort of prompting. He pulled a can of seltzer out of it and went for a few of the cabinets until he inevitably found where Linqian kept her stash. Two cups hit the table, and he poured some jin into the seltzer and slid one to Henri.

”Well, you can underage drink in your mind. We’ll share one while I try and figure out how you’ve managed to avoid being a fucked up teenager.” Edict shook his head, pulling the drink to his lips and feeling the most realistic drink he’d had in someone’s mind in quite a few years.

”Sweet!” Henri grinned, grabbing the drink and taking a large swig of it. He immediately scrunched his face up at the taste. He quickly adapted to post the taste of the alcohol, and essentially… being in his own mind. He shoved aside some hoodies on the couch and plopped down on it. ”Why would I be a fucked up teen, though? I guess my parents died when I was young… but I hardly remember them, if I’m honest. Everything after that was pretty fine! Y’know, Jie acts all rough but she raised me real well. Y’know, when we first moved we lived in this one bedroom flat and she slept on the sofa for a whole year so I didn’t have to, even though I would’ve fit on it better.”

”Well you should remember that… Little Brother, I… I can’t lie to you in your own head. It’s kind of fucked up, but essentially you’ve got quite the little fortress going on in here. Usually people are unsure of things, or unfamiliar with their insides like this. You seem naturally gifted. Actually, Jinhai was like this. There was a time when we tried to be friends, and he let me into his mind and I kind of… Well, I had the same thought you heard. About being jealous of your looks. He got pissy about it… Oh… Well, so it won’t come back to bite me, I’m nobody’s friend in the Coven. Nobody liked me. I’m a criminal, and I’ve never not acted like it. Your brother? He really didn’t like me, but he did try. Bless his heart…” Edict trailed off, and his eyes looked at Jinhai.

There was a moment where Edict couldn’t hide his mind and where it went. His hurt, his pain, and the recent reconciliation between himself and Britney that was beginning to move his heart in another direction. Henri would catch a whiff of violence and anger, and a woman’s voice speaking in a deep Caribbean accent and a language he wouldn’t understand were it not for his and Edict’s minds slowly meshing together.

There was a moment where Henri could hear Jinhai’s voice. It was a tirade, a burning admonishment from Jinhai’s lips to Greyson’s ears that called him awful things. And then another in Linqian’s voice. He was projecting memories, letting the two brains meld tighter.
”I’m not that anymore. I’ve thought about that. But now I can’t get anyone to give me a second chance, except for two. You met Britney the other night… And your sister. But she’s still afraid, because she doesn’t want me to talk to you. She thinks I’m going to hurt you, or do the things that I used to try and do… That I still do in my line of work.”

There was a loud, flashing moment where Edict and Henri were standing across from one another bathed in violet and pink strobe lights. It was a club, and people were dancing all around them.
But it was just a flash. They were standing across one another at that table still.
”What I do, I do for business. I thought those people were going to be my brothers and sisters forever. But they dropped me. And I came here today because I was going to manipulate you and hurt your sister by doing so… But you’re strong, Henri. And I’m blessed to be strong too. I can help you now, and make your life better and do better for your sister and the others too… And I can show them what they’ve missed out on. And you can tell them firsthand one day. What do you think about that?”

”Wait, so…” Henri narrowed his eyes, vision swimming from the sudden strobe lights and mind processing all the words he’d been bombarded with. He couldn’t control his expression as Edict revealed what he’d actually planned to do. His smile dropped, shoulders tensing and arms crossing over his chest. At the same time the room around them flickered slightly, a picture of young Henri with his siblings falling to the floor with a thud. His siblings' angry tirades didn’t phase him - he’d heard it plenty from Linqian, occasionally from Jinhai. But that did.

As much as Henri was incredibly dense about many practical things, he wasn’t stupid. In fact, his mind was almost as quick as Jinhai’s.
”My sister is one of the two people who gave you a second chance.” His voice was strangely flat, the light hanging from the ceiling between them flickered wildly. ”And you were going to use me to hurt her for something ten years ago. Do you know what it was like for her then? Our parents were dead. She thinks I don’t know, but I’m not stupid. She was working two jobs with no break. She came home, slept, left for work. I barely saw her- but she dropped you…”

The light disappeared, plunging his mind room into darkness as it was absorbed into his body. There weren’t many light sources in the room… but this was his mind. His memories. It wasn’t difficult to expand it out to the whole apartment, stealing the light from every room. His hands started to glow, arms growing stronger. He moved forward, closing the gap until he was just a step away from Edict.
”I think that you shouldn’t have told me you were going to hurt my sister- why the fuck shouldn’t I just throw you out of my mind and fucking tell her?!”

Edict would’ve grinned at a reaction like this any other time… But he wasn’t taunting Henri. He wasn’t looking to get under Henri’s skin, or rile him up. However, he did take another sip of the drink. It was dry and tasteless, and reflected the shift in tone. It wasn’t a good place anymore, not unless he did the convincing.

”You lie to her. She lies to you, they lied to you. But it was never malice. It was out of love and care, that they didn’t want to trouble you and you didn’t want to trouble them. But what is honesty to you, Henri Han? Do you have someone you can be one hundred percent honest with? Who isn’t going to judge you?” Edict spoke calmly to Henri. He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t unable to spin or weave a lie.

Simply put, he chose not to. Henri would just hear it anyway.

”But as far as kicking me out? You can’t. Simply put, you let me in. You don’t get to let me out. If I snuck in? Well, you’d be able to get me out. But I asked, and you opened. Then and there is where I would’ve taken advantage of you, Henri. But I didn’t. I saw this beautiful little place, and you know what I thought of?”

There was a grating, churning shift that rotated the world around them. Every piece of furniture or surface seemed to twist in spot until it was similar but… Different. Different materials, slightly different orientations. The living room furniture was different, there were no more lights to take, it was a strange greyscale world. A memory caught in black and white.
Pink washed over it, and gave way to color until they were in a very similar apartment. There were no photos, but there were different art pieces, African looking totems and blankets with Saharan animals on them. The smell of lilac and vanilla wafted through the air. It was eerie how similarly the places were set up.

”It reminded me of my happy place. Uncanny, huh? How similar they’re set up? It’s… I have a lot of these. I call them Centers. But the oldest and closest one is this apartment. My Mom’s, when I was finally forced out of my Father’s house to live with her. It’s where I first really learned about magic and about Lux. I thought about the story I was going to tell you, and about how I was going to lie to you… And I remembered that when I was learning, nobody did that to me. And that I would’ve been heartbroken if they did. And I put all of this together when you… When I saw this.”

In an instant, they were back to Henri’s own Center, and Greyson smiled at him now. Not Edict, but Greyson. Eighteen year old Greyson Devola, freshly Made and fresh out of the Sycamore Tree Coven. He was in a t-shirt, some shorts… Not the smart business attire that Edict had worn in.

”It would be an awful waste if you kept doing party tricks your whole life, just like it would be an awful waste if I spent my entire life spinning my wheels on a perceived slight. Not when we can both be more useful for the people who love us and who we love back. So what do you say we start from the top?”

Greyson held out his hand.
”I’m Greyson. Greyson Devola. Mobster, Warlock, and a recovering fucked up kid. If you don’t think you want to know me, then that’s fine. I’ll leave, and I’ll disappear out of your life just like she would want. But let me stick around, and I’ll do right by you, and her.”

At first, Henri wanted to punch him. But he wasn’t like Linqian - quick to violent anger. What he did share with her was quick emotional changes, flash of anger disappearing as Greyson continued to talk. He was right. He hadn’t taken advantage of Henri where he could have, after Henri so easily let him in. He was offering to leave. He hadn’t actually hurt Linqian yet. And if she really was in danger, he needed to get stronger. She wouldn’t help him. She had too much on her plate.

And there was no one else. Henri was willing to forgive the harm that could have been for the openness that had actually happened.

”Alright,” Henri let out a long breath, and with it all the light he’d gathered flitted out of his body into two soft, glowing orbs between them. It softly lit up the room. He looked at Greyson’s outstretched hand, and didn’t go to shake it yet. ”Let’s start again. But you have to promise to not hurt my sister. She’s been through enough. Do right by her, like you said. If you do, you might be surprised… she’s pretty fucking cool towards the people she cares about.”

He smiled again. It wasn’t quite as bright as before, but it was there. He reached out to shake Greyson’s hand.
”I’m Henri Han- well, Jie would want me to introduce myself as Huanyi, but not many people can pronounce it. I’m good with either. I’m a mechanical engineering student- unless I drop out- and a part-time magical light man. But I want to be more than that. So nice to meet you again, and please help me improve my magic.”

A warmth filled the room as both individuals accepted the agreement. Maybe he'd gotten a little wrapped up in the moment, but Greyson kept his head empty. He motioned toward the couch. The two of them had a table full of food, snacks and drinks.
”Time moves slower in the Center. We've got an hour outside, four hours here. Get ready for cram school, Huanyi."

He pronounced the name perfectly.

Part 2: November 2nd, Evening
The Apothecary, Back Rooms
House of Cards by @Estylwen

The room was dimly lit with a candle on the vanity table. A sweeping dark hat framed the dusty mirror, obscuring the face of a woman who was furious.

A pen palmed her hand, scratching out black ink in a diary. She wrote, letter by letter in furious cursive.

Revenge List:

B-R-I-T-N-NNNnnnn—


Phantasia stifled a moan as a pounding headache took over. She blinked, completely losing her train of thought, looking confused at the paper, before her brows furrowed. The diary smashed into the far wall, and Phantasia sat there with her head in her hands, glowering in the mirror.

This ruined her plans. Her experimentation had cost her dearly.

Plus… The itch in her mind had only grown. She had to see him again.

Everything was messed up. Her carefully constructed plans, her revenge. The mantle on her shoulders, her responsibility, her duty to the sealed. The barbarically sealed.

Void would have some witty remark about this, surely. He always knew how to get under her skin.

Phantasia sighed. Edict would have his own plans. And she, her own. At the end of this, only one thing was clear: She needed to even the scales.


November 2nd, Night
Luxury Heights Project, 5th Floor


The operation was a little too wound tight, a little too well-polished. With the advantage of sending the invitation, Phantasia arrived first, setting up her men around her. They were on the fifth floor of a half-constructed skyscraper project. Five suited men were visible where they stood. Four stood behind cement pillars, hands on their holsters. The getaway car below was primed with additional men and a warm engine.

Phantasia stood near the edge of the floor, in the open but within her circle of men. Like her men, she was also equipped with a Kevlar vest under her white blouse and dress skirt. She had one extra addition, however. Around her neck was nothing other than a shock collar.

She stared expectantly at the stairwell, recounting the note sent to Edict.

I cordially invite you to the Luxury Heights Project, 5th floor, to further discuss business.

If the Devola crew was anything, it was Militant. At least half a dozen cousins had served in the last half of the war, and their relatives out in the Med had been shipping plenty of Italian and captured American surplus in order to cover their losses during the decade prior.

The Sicilian Families had never taken kindly to Fascists at their doors; they were moral busybodies far too interested in people’s private affairs to let money be made cleanly, and disputes handled quietly. So the Resistance had been hard at work modifying captured weapons and body armor to specifications fit for the more covert work of La Cosa Nostra.

Edict smiled as he thought about those brave bastards gutting their enemies in roving gangs of half-silent men and women with submachine guns tucked under their coats. The Gang marched practically in unison, suits and ties and tactical vests, cigarettes hanging from lips that spoke in soft tones, the clicking of metal impacting metal and leather soles impacting tiled floors.
One fiddled with the weight of his Browning, gripping the twenty-round box magazine like a handle to readjust the weight on his chest and back.

Edict was thankful he was wearing sunglasses; she didn’t need to know his eyes were closed. The day he’d gotten the letter, he sent a mole to the projects with a camcorder to capture the routes to the fifth floor, and he’d studied the shit out of it in order to commit to memory.

Now a Power Word marched his entire group’s steps like they were one entity, the puppet master in the middle disconnecting their ability to see from their brains.

He could feel they were nervous, and frankly he was too. But, not like them. They were all Blinds; easy tools for slaughter if the need arose. A wall he could put in front of the bullets and escape behind. There was a backed up secondary command which would let him drop the connection to them while releasing a morphine-like effect all in the same pull.

A painless death. Just in case.

As the group ascended the stairs, Edict gathered the visual data from his soldiers in rapid fashion.

She’d seen him, he’d seen her… They both knew what they were dealing with now. He only wondered if she’d thought about everything they shared between then and now.

And there she was. They ascended to the fifth floor, and one head turned to meet the House of Cards. Each head and body twisted and pivoted like robotic soldiers, turning to face Phantasia with their full bodies. They filed in, and Edict split the group, standing at the front. His black long-coat was tucked tight to his chest by the kevlar plate carrier he was wearing, his tie tucked underneath.

He was wearing an all-red ensemble. No need to see him bleeding. One of his men gave a weak whimper, the sensation of not being fully in control of his body an otherworldly torture.

”Phantasia, my Darling… I’d say you’re looking lovely, but you already knew that. I guess the pill finally dissolved, eh? Did you at least give my ideas a little bit of thought?”
Edict grinned from behind dark glasses. Pink Lux was radiating off of his body in such a heavy fashion that he had an aura visible to any other Adept around him.
Slung around his shoulder and chest, a state of the art next generation Thompson M3A, its compact sixty round drum magazine wound tightly as it bristled in waiting for its time to shine.

Phantasia did something she normally never did when greeting the approaching unisioned men. She held her hat, and removed it completely, giving it to a suited man beside her. Her pink eyes illuminated the dimness of the fifth floor, streetlight from outside cutting through the missing walls.

Her gaze locked onto Edict's. Then shifted to his men. Hm. It was as she thought. He had taken precautions. She couldn't get a hold- or more exactly, there was no will to grip, no wall to push over. Like a connection had been severed.

Well. No matter.

She tutted a bit. They were carrying bigger guns. She should have known. But no matter. It meant they both weren't beating around the bush, so to speak.

Her electrified nerves tingled in anticipation, and she smiled a sharp smile.

“You honour me, Mr. Devola. I've given your ideas plenty of thought. But…” Her gaze shifted over the men opposing her and their strapped guns. “I think we both know what I've concluded.”

She gave a small whistle, gesturing to the No Man's Land between them. Two suits stepped forward, placing a fold-out table and two metal chairs in the center.

“We know what you think, and we also know what I think. And I feel a little injured, having your ideas in my head so.”

She gestured to the table, pulling out a deck of cards from her sleeve. Nice and slow. No need for anyone to get any funny ideas that she was pulling a gun in a situation like this.

Yes. Settling her disputes the Cards way. Her way. She licked her lips in anticipation.

“How about we make a game out of it? No need to get our men injured, yes? A round of poker. You win, I'll let you put whatever idea you want in my head. I win, and you surrender to my eyes. You owe me that much.”

She cupped the cards in front of her, before causing them to leap from one hand to the other in a smooth card spring flourish. The sound of crisp cards clicking against one another as they settled back into her hand brought a sense of satisfaction to her face, and she smirked at Edict.

“At the end of the day, this is about your beloved Britney, isn't it? A war can be avoided between us, if you choose to solve this… diplomatically.”

She gestured to the table, waiting for Edict to take a seat.

Edict, however, was more than skeptical. Playing cards with people who know magic is like going into a lying competition with a Presidential Candidate; some even think they’re not cheating, but if one has any kind of power they’re bound to use it in a productive way. There wasn’t a shred of evidence that made him comfortable in any way.

But just like Phantasia had hoped to gleam knowledge from her invitation into her head, so too did the young Capo in regards to this game.
”Best two of three… I find best of one to be entirely unsportsmanlike. Flukes, freak chance, cheating…”
Edict would’ve narrowed his eyes if they were open, but he still flourished with his hands, all six of his guards making the same motions with vague pained groans as they did so.

”I agree entirely.” Phantasia said with an amiable tone, eyes hovering on the groans of his men.

”Y’know, I’m at a terrible disadvantage as it is… The eyes and everything… You can’t possibly know how hard it is to put six blurry points of view together into one image.”

He did, however, take his seat. He didn’t like any bit of it, however, and expected nothing but the worst outcome. He’d prepared for an escape attempt at the very least, but Edict found himself contemplating the outcome if he failed at that. Who would come for him? All his death would be is an early warning to Britney to start running…
But if he thought like that about everything, he’d never have made Capo. He’d not have seen everything he had so far in his life. He’d definitely not have still done his part against the fucking Stygian Snake.

His gun brushed between his legs, and for a moment there was a flashing thought of hoisting it under the table and raking the magazine full of forty-five in and across the table. Enough bullets and he’d die, but… If it wasn’t enough? Or if they missed out of shock? But he couldn’t coordinate the others without telegraphing, not without risking the chance of his own inaccuracy blowing his skull out of his face from the rear.

Edict’s forearms came up onto the table, fingers folding into one another.
”Let’s get this over with…”

Phantasia watched carefully, before passing the deck to one of her men, and sitting across from Edict. The cards were shuffled, and cards were dealt. Phantasia gazed over her cards, leaning back idly in her seat.

The air was charged with a heavy weight. At any moment, either party could open fire and finish what they came here to do. She walked a fine line, a tightrope between life and death at that very moment.

Yet, such was the life of a mobstress.

She picked two cards out of her hand and threw them face down. The dealer picked them up and replaced them, and she looked over her new cards. Her face was a careful mask, but a hint of sincerity surfaced.

She leaned forward. “I was looking forward to that meal at the Elder Lamb. Two families, side by side, drinking wine and breaking bread.”

As she spoke, her hand dropped to the side, enough to jostle free two cards that lay tucked in the sleeve. With a sleight of hand, she quietly slipped them into her hand, dropping two others.

“I guess we're too far gone for that, huh? You really adamant on this girl?”

Her tone dropped to a somber tone.“You really adamant on this ending in bloodshed?”

She waited for Edict to discard and draw for his own hand, and then she flourished her cards face-up on the table.

A full house, aces high.

“I win the first round, Edict.”

Edict's heart wasn't in the cards. It was miles away, with a six foot chocolate queen who had big hair and a bigger brain. He was twelve years back, quietly watching from the sidelines as a group of teenagers drank and partied and tried to forget that some of them were going to die the next day.
Edict faced death long before he met the Sycamore Tree. It was part of the life of a Mafioso, you had to look it in the eye and direct it toward your enemies while steering it away from your allies. Luck wasn’t an option, you had to manipulate the draw for every single thing, because the stakes were always so fucking high that failure quickly became a non-option.

But he wasn’t there. This was difficult; it was love, but it was hate. It was wanting to help, but not wanting to help with what they wanted. Phantasia Vorpal was Made, just like Edict had been. The Boss of her own family, a Capo of the North-West Federation, fairly respected among their peers, and all thanks to the exact same little secret that Edict had used.
One of the guards got a good shot of the cheated cards hitting the floor.

”You dropped something, Vorpal… I fold.”
His eyes stared directly at her through closed lids. Phantasia's eyes immediately narrowed, covering the skip of her heartbeat.

Edict continued. ”While you deal the next hand that I’ll inevitably lose, how about you tell me something? Did it ever occur to you that our mutual friends; the important ones, that is. Did it ever occur to you that they’d have something to say about you going on like this? Over some ghost? I think you and I both know that this goes nowhere.”

“That's the thing. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.” Phantasia said with a soft smile.

Another set of cards slid into his fingers, and he waited to lift them to check.
”We’re both Made, Phantasia. Two people Made in a life that wouldn’t normally accept us. We stand at unreasonable heights, following the ancient code and tradition of La Cosa Nostra. The war we wage would far surpass the heads of our dearest elders, and yet you’re willing to drive us there? Over this… Minor… Problem?”

Phantasia paused and listened as Edict spoke, not looking at her cards right away. He referred to Void as a ‘minor problem’. How little he knew.

She picked up her cards, fanning them out a little, looking over the faces to level adamant eyes at Edict.

”You're right. We're in a position that not many folks get, or even dream of. We get to choose if those around us live or die…”

She withdrew three cards and gently tossed them face-down towards the dealer.

“Sometimes, our hand is forced…”

The dealer laid out three more cards, which Phantasia slipped into her hand.

“Sometimes, the sacrifice outweighs the risks…”

She uncrossed and crossed her legs, dress settling in ruffles around her. She leaned a little forward.

“If I killed your uncle, right now, you would have sacrificed something great. Too great to bear. Wouldn't you do anything fix that? Blood for blood?”

Phantasia's pink eyes narrowed at Edict. “It's the same for me when I lost Void. So you see, we're at a crossroads. The immovable rock meets the unstoppable force, so to speak.”

After Edict had discarded, she laid her cards out flat, clicking slightly on the table. A High Card, Aces high.

“Reveal your hand, Edict. Let me see you go good on our little deal.”

Edict had pulled two cards and slapped them on the table, getting two more as Phantasia spoke. He considered what she was saying about Void Heart and how special he’d been to her.
”An eye for an eye is so uncreative, Phantasia. Frankly, it’s the small game.”

He didn’t grin as he looked at the straight flush he had in his hands, nor did he react when she laid her flattened hand down to play it. It was safe to assume she wasn’t the type to fold, even if it meant saving herself.
”I should’ve injected some better ideas… But, I recognize you and your position. I hope that’s been obvious. I didn’t gelatinize your brain, I didn’t plant any bombs in this building in anticipation of our meeting: Frankly, I’ve been nothing but respectful.”

“Indeed you have.” Phantasia said.

He laid his hand down on the table, staring up. Six to ten, a flush straight in spades slid down on the table.

The six heads of his enthralled guards all fixed on Phantasia as Edict would with his own two eyes.
”My round. Maybe, before we get to this last round where you drop two more cards out of your hand and swap them with your sleeve cards, you’ll give me the common courtesy of explaining why Void Heart is so important to you? And, maybe you can explain why his host was shacked up with a gang of frothing cultists and not with our Family? It may go a long way in helping me reconsider things before they get… Ugly.”







Phantasia conceded the round. Now they were tied, 1-1. Everything hung on this last round.

As the dealer shuffled the deck and passed out the new hands, Phantasia could feel the eyes on her. Edict wanted a story. Who was the Void Heart to her?

It was an excellent question. One that she had thought on quite a bit in these past few days.

That troublesome Void Heart…

Phantasia sighed, looking over her cards as she leaned back in her seat. “A respectful Capo such as yourself deserves an answer, at least before things go south. I'm not cruel enough to deprive you of that.”

She set her hand face down on the table, leaned forward, and laced her fingers together. Her eyes were just a bit far away, recounting a time that felt like eons ago.

“The Void Heart came to me through Luna, you might remember her.”

Her head tilted, eyes shifting between holding each of the gazes of the suited men staring at her.

“The Void Heart and its host, Alizée, were doing odd jobs for me here and there, until the fated night my casino burned down. When I tell the story, I always fail to mention that I was in that fire. Void came to the rescue of my guards and I, preventing a collapsed wall from smothering us. To this day, I owe that inky little ball my life. I suppose that's why I never killed him…”

She picked up her hand, glancing down at it before returning her gaze to Edict.

“I kept getting reports of men collapsing for no reason. It wasn't until Alizée and the Void Heart were caught in the act of feasting on my men that I realized their betrayal. By that time, they had gotten closer to those folks dressed in black, preaching about Eden… I let them jump ship, since I owed my life to the Void Heart. Hearing his passing… From the very people he took refuge in before and after me…”

Phantasia softly shook her head. “It was too much.”

She picked out a couple cards, and set them aside. The dealer gave her replacements, which she slipped into her hand.

“Does that satisfy your curiosity, Edict? Will you sleep peacefully now, after you try to kill me?”

Edict’s lips pursed and his nose crinkled as he tried to keep his mind loose and without tension. He wasn’t upset, certainly he understood what she was going on about, especially with the idea of loyalty and personal honor. The tattoo on his back symbolized that kind of mentality, the same ideological conditioning that was drilled into the head of every young boy and girl who stepped into their Life. The Family, the Firm, it was supposed to be a code that they lived by.

And this magic shit really got in the way of it. It really got in the way of business, and Edict at once thought about how he wished everyone shared his mindset. He wished he could just force it on her, on the only people who needed it forced on them. Those who were worse than blinds when it came to their rabid power-hungry madness and vicious greed. He was one of those men, sure; but how long could one be that?

One of his guards looked at his cards. They weren’t great.

”That’s not the code, Phantasia. Our Thing here… You’re a Boss, see; maybe of a small family, but you are. I’m here as a member of the Devola Clan: My Father is Capo di Tutti Capi. You know this. Yet, you’re willing to push this line and break This Thing of Ours? Then frankly, Phantasia… I don’t believe your story anymore than I believe you’re holding a legitimate hand.”

Phantasia's eyes delicately narrowed at that, but said nothing.

Edict leaned back in his chair, fingers fiddling with his cards as he took the last few deep breaths he may have ever.
”But if you’re telling the truth, then frankly the Sycamore Tree had nothing to do with Void Heart’s death. You know that Temple does business with Dollhouse? Illicit goods and materials, vendored through me. Me directly. I know what they do, Phantasia. And I know how to get to them. And that knife that Void Heart is stuck in.”

He folded his hand, sliding it across the table.
”Don’t let the last words between us be bloody, Sister. Tu mi gratti la schiena, io gratterò la tua… (You scratch my back, I scratch yours.)”

.
.
.


It was a dark night. Clouds hung in the sky in an oppressive atmosphere. They stood on the rooftops overlooking the casino's charred embers, still smoldering.

Phantasia stood stony-faced, refusing to let her men to see the despair ripping her apart inside.

“Zu'u kriist voth hi ko vulom. (I stand with you in the darkness.)

An abyssal black ball hovered in the air beside Phantasia, red eyes shifting from the smoke to her, cracking in the center to form a jagged smile.

“I never abandon my toys, and Alizée's taken a fancy to you.” He said, creating a phantom hand to thumb at the pale girl watching the embers with grim fury.

“We're gonna get whoever did this, alright?”

.
.
.


Phantasia felt the flashes of memory in her mind, and her eyes subtly changed from pink, to purple, and back. There was an emotion stirring in her that she daren't believe, that she daren't indulge.

There was a long, unsettling pause, the men behind her shifting from one leg to the other, eyes on their Boss.

Until she finally spoke.

“Let’s say I believe you. What do you have to gain from this, besides avoiding a war? Would you really give up a valuable business connection to satisfy me?”

Her eyes narrowed, boring into him, willing to see past the mask.

“There has to be more to it, there always is.”

He was right, of course. Her hand was a farce this round. She glanced at it once, and folded. Instead, she leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands overlapped.

“So, let me entertain your thought. Let us discuss the terms.”

She glanced at the pistols gleaming in her men's hands, then back towards Edict.

“Killing is easy for us, but a bloodbath won't solve our problems… You know what I want. I want the Void Heart. What do you want?”

Edict settled in slightly, taking a deep breath as she acquiesced to intelligent discussion. His slave-guard eased their arms slowly, tension falling away from the room as a dozen men overall took a drink of warm life from the air around them. He thought about what he actually wanted…

”I think what I want is for the two of us to come to an understanding. That This Thing of Ours will always transcend this Outer Sphere bullshit. That, when the chips are down and the cards are folded, we can still come together and shake hands like our Ancestors would’ve wanted.”

He cleared his throat, lifting his sunglasses to show his closed eyes, and opening them for the first time in the entire meeting. In response, Phantasia immediately shut her eyes, and gestured to one of her men. Her hat was returned, the brim covering the top part of her face.

”I want trust. I want you to acknowledge that we could’ve killed one another a dozen times over and we haven’t, because there’s some sick mutual respect here. You recognize that I’m putting business ventures that are rooted in a relationship that I’ve cultivated for over a decade. That, like you, I have deep personal ties with many involved in this unfortunate situation.”

He reached his right hand up slowly to pull the Velcro off one of his vest’s containers. From it, he pulled a lighter and a silver cigarette case. At the press of a button, the lid popped open, and he took a stick from within before slowly reaching it over the table, offering one to the Lady of the Cards. She took it, one of her men passing a holder for it to slide into. A quick light, and a draw of air.

”I want our solution to be dynamic, just like we are. Plans may change, and we’ll simply adapt. For instance; I’d like a guarantee that Britney Williams will be left out of this. Do I expect you to hold such a thing if things start to go south? No. I imagine desperation.”
With his free hand, he brought the smoke to his lips and flicked the lighter. A warm puff of smoke fell from his nostrils in ringlets.

Phantasia held the first light in her lungs for a moment before letting go, smoke curling around her. She seemed pensive for a moment, before she spoke.

“Trust. Understanding. A guarantee,” A light smile graced her features. “Edict, I acknowledge that both of us have no business being alive in this moment, yet here we are. And we are nothing without our Code, and I am nothing without my word.

“You have my guarantee. Britney Williams will not be harmed. I'll even go a step further and say, I'll leave the ones in the Sycamore that did the deed alone. They won't hear anything from me.

“If at any point I break that promise while the two of us have our trust intact…”


She flicked the ash of her cigarette, before her head tilted.

“You can kill me.”

Another long draw, and smoke swirled around her.

“My family's got old blood in the city. Some bad blood too. But, this Thing goes nowhere without ‘friends’. And I'd like to consider you a friend after tonight, Edict.”

That light smile was on her face again, turning a bit nostalgic as she quoted an old Italian blessing, adapting it a bit in acknowledgement that, perhaps, they could get along after all.

“Che il nostro rapporto sia come il buon vino. Gustoso, deciso e chiaro. E come il buon vino, possa migliorare ogni anno che passa. (May our relation be like good wine. Tasty, sharp and clear. And like good wine, may it improve with every passing year.)

Edict stood and bowed before the Boss of the House of Cards like any gentleman would.
Kill her, kill her, kill her, k-
”You’ve made me the happiest man in the Shimmer, Phantasia. We’ll pop the cork a couple decades from now, and I’m sure it’ll be extra sweet.”

Part 3: November 3rd, Early Morning
Edict’s Apartment
Anya Baksh by @FernStone

For Edict, sleeping wasn’t always a blissful thing. Tonight, he was more on edge than he usually was given the circumstances. As he made his way from the elevator into his apartment, he tossed his jacket over the back of a chair and took a deep breath as the weight of his equipment tugged on his frame. Phantasia Vorpal, Layla Hyacinthus, Void Heart, Alizée Altieri…
What the fuck, man…

Greyson found himself slowly slumping over the counter, sinking lower and lower until his still-armored back was pressed against the warm wood cabinets of his kitchen island. All he could think about was how it wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. How he was supposed to come here, get his revenge, and be gone. Britney wasn’t supposed to mean a damn thing to him anymore.

She told him, after all. That she didn’t want to see him anymore. That she regretted him. No, no… She never said regret. Did she even say she wished anything was different? It was so hard to remember what was a projection and what had actually happened… How much of what he remembered was poisoned time, memories tainted by his own personal twisted feelings and love-loss between points A and B?
No, no… It’s not supposed to be like this! Why… Why do I care about them caring?

His watch beeped. It was three in the morning. He’d already set up with Natalie for early tomorrow, which meant he only had a few hours before he had to be up and refreshed again. That meant instant sleep, and that meant dosing himself.
Greyson had found people like himself all over the world: Burned out wizards whose main pleasure in life came from the fact that they were magical tricksters who could practically do whatever the fuck they wanted in normal society. Lux Addicts, never having to chase a high because it was guaranteed every time so long as your magic was sharp. Some got their rocks off on using their powers on others, some on themselves…

Greyson was both. He felt love in every spell, whether it was cast inward or outward. It was necessary for the Pink Lux to flow properly, that one truly love in the moment. Few bonds match the love and hate an addict has for their substance of choice. Only, he had to cut the second part out no matter what… Because while Greyson’s love for his Father, and by extension the Mafia, that caused him to Kindle, it was the love of his circumstances that he called upon to cast his spells every single time.

There was a little while where it was Her… It was that Kindling feeling, and then it was Her. Now look at me…

Fast moving images of Britney’s face flashed through Greyson’s vision, and his head slowly tilted on the spot. For Greyson, sleeping was never a blissful thing. It was an interr-

Darkness. An empty mind for the first time the entire time he’d been in St. Portwell. Tonight, there were no active doors blocking visitors. Just an exhausted, tired, sad and lonely little man. A perfect target.

A soft purple glow appeared in the corner of the darkness. It started off small, before it lengthened into a thin line. This line expanded out and the glow disappeared as a human shaped figure stepped out. A delicate eyebrow raised as Anya paused, looking around the blankness of the dream. She rolled her fountain pen between her fingers, corners of her lips quirking up into an amused smile. Oh, he must really be exhausted. To be dreaming without any true contents. He looked it. For a moment, Anya just silently observed, without announcing her presence. It was a shame there was nothing much for her to discover, but the lack of anything was information in itself.

”Well, this is rather boring,” Anya announced, Channeler gently flicking to the side. It glowed softly, a more pink tone, and the scene began to shift. An empty space, but one with lighting - a room, perhaps, not quite fully formed yet. She didn't particularly care for decoration in this case. She wasn't here to influence his dreams or to gain information. She was here to talk. With another gesture of her fountain pen a comfortable armchair appeared right beside her. She sat in it, one leg crossing over the other. She'd chosen to wear a long, dark skirt tonight, which swished gently as she sat and moved her legs before settling around them. Her dark brown lips pulled up into more of a smile.

”I’m glad you allowed me such an easy entrance today, Greyson. I've had quite the few days. I'm sure you have too… Trying to get everything under your control now that you're back in the city that tiring?”

When Anya’s voice first echoed through Greyson’s mind, he nearly jumped out of his skin. His body had been slumped in the same position as it was in life, only he wasn’t dressed. Boxers, a tee, socks… But his form still moved like it was awake, reaching for the gun that wasn’t there to shoulder it and aim at the intruder.
Only, he wasn’t awake and the intruder wasn’t the worst person to see in a dream. His heart beat thumped around the two of them like an echoing war drum, slowly calming as an interaction that was familiar to the both of them occurred.

There was a melding of familiar strains of Pink Lux, light easing in around them more and more until a common space existed. At once, it was like he wasn’t even asleep. There was no real transition or fading in and out; if one wasn’t used to such liminal spaces like dreamscapes, it would’ve been terribly jarring.
But Anya Baksh had been in Greyson’s head in a way that nobody else had quite gotten to. Not like he liked that, but it wasn’t the worst thing.

Like he’d always been dressed, he was standing by a liquor cabinet with a couple glasses, pouring Anya her favorite drink in the lounge they’d met at the first time they decided to do business with one another as adults. It was a good environment.
”As if I can get that pack of morons under control? Wishful thinking, Anya.”

His sleeves were rolled up, his collar open without a tie. He had suspenders, and creme colored slacks with no belt. Just extra buttons. He still didn’t have shoes: He was comfortable.
”Played it cool the other day, huh? I guess you don’t want people thinking we’re cliqued… Smart. Now, what’s so important you wake a guy up?”
Not that he was awake, he knew he was still resting. Even now, with the excessive brain activity warming that cavity in his skull, it was still better than just forcing himself to stay awake.

”Well, I do have to keep Sloane happy,” Anya laughed lightly. She leaned back, taking a sip of her drink. Carefully, slowly. Unfortunately while the person whose dream it was wouldn't be affected by any alcohol consumed, she would be. An unfortunate side effect of interacting with it.
”You have the same with Linqian, don't you? She's got quite the intense hatred for me, and I wouldn't want you to lose your little employee.”

She smiled. It was clear where she'd gotten the information from - not Greyson's dreams, but Linqian's. Hers had always been rather easy to get in and out of unnoticed, and were filled with information right now. As were many of the coven members following all the murders.
”I didn't realise you were enjoying the emptiness so much, I would've left you be. It's not so much a specific thing as it is everything. I figured we should touch base now that you're back in town.”

She swirled her glass, loose, white sleeves of her blouse shifting with it, before taking another sip. Perfect. It was a shame no drink tasted quite so good in the real world.
”I’ll start with some information on my end, before it gets out and reflects rather badly on me. Your concerns over it will be quite different from everyone else's, of course. Sloane, Jack, and I,” she held up a finger with each name, smiling, ”got in contact with the PRA after the raid. I'm sure you remember Sloane talking to their leader? I was the one who made the call in the end, diplomacy isn't exactly her… strength. Unfortunately, the woman had pawned us off into an utterly inane trainee agent. I don't think I've ever met anyone quite as awful as him.”

She sighed, waving a hand and grimacing.
”That’s unimportant. I met with him, and his ability to keep secrets was just as poor as his flirting. All it took was a little push. Did you know their previous Regional Commander was a member of Das Sonnerand, the Nazi's that ran rampant until just months ago? Quite the bad look for a government agency.” She smiled again, eyes creasing slightly as if it were genuine. ”I’m informing you so that you don't think I'm working with them. I'm taking from them, nothing more.”

Greyson nearly spat his rum out. It tasted so good in these fucking dreams, he reactively tried to save it even though it didn’t matter. Habitual.
”Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Anya!? No bullshit!?”
He squatted slightly, his hands on his knees as his torso bent. His face stared at Anya with a sarcastic expression.
”Y’know, I think the President owned slaves a few hundred years ago. Looks pretty bad for the literal leader of a government…”
He pulled back, waving his empty hand.
”Who gives a fuck? If you said current Regional Commander? I’d be excited here with you, but I can’t really muster a fuck about some old Kraut who liked what was happening during the war. Seemed to me like that Asian chick was the one in charge, so whatever paddle the Bureau of Equal Opportunity spanked their asses with, it fucking hit.”

There was no cigar, but then there was. The cherry red tip glowed as Greyson waved his hands around with a drink and a smoke. How habitual.
”You uh… You see everything about Linqian and I? You see me clip those wings?” he piggishly asked, expression changing slightly as if to suggest something as he leaned against the bar.
”Ain’t much different than paying an escort at this point…”

Anya rolled her eyes at him. A sign that she was relaxing too, in company she didn't have to pretend around quite so much. No need to be the perfect, good person Sloane seemed to think she was. Or pretend to actually care about anyone outside of herself.

”You can be a real dick sometimes, Greyson. Ah, most of the time, actually.” She snorted, lips turning from smile to sneer. Unfortunately I did see that. In rather graphic detail, almost impressive from someone with such little mental magical defences. Strong willed in another way I suppose. That is one escort you can keep paying if you wish to, since she was dreaming of it so vividly. I didn't expect to prefer the dreams where I have to watch my friend getting stabbed.”

Friend in the loosest sense of the word. Anya and Jinhai were just like Anya and Greyson, without the shared pink lux. They met in dreams, conspired, and understood each other's selfishness. Unfortunately, Jinhai had a much more irritating hang on.

There was more about the PRA she could bring up, of course, but she wasn't so inclined to right away when he'd been such a dick about it. Not that she disagreed, which was the most irritating thing. It was his turn.
”What exactly are you getting her to do? Information gathering? I don't particularly care for the means, but it's rather smart if it's working. Nobody suspects an idiot is trying to get something out of them. They don't trust us even without knowing about our collaboration.” She tilted her head, and smiled. It was clear was she was asking for - what did he know. Was there anything important to her.

”Oh, she works out alright.”
There was the most faint sound of a wet slapping noise in the far distance. Frankly, Greyson was a bit mad at Anya for barging in. Usually they had an agreement, scheduled something, but here she was just catching up like they were tea pals.
”You’ve only walked into a couple of those other dreams.”
The slapping turned into the soft, dull puncturing noises of a body being stabbed; the pained moans.

For the briefest instant, they weren’t in the Lounge. The moon was pink, Greyson was in a tuxedo, the burning Sycamore Tree was adorned with bodies hanging like icicles from its flaming branches.
And then it wasn’t. He smiled at Anya. Clearing his throat, the background noise faded and became some light music. Greyson sat down in a chair that hadn’t been there but now was.
”She is… My little helper. I give her a large quantity of money, and yes: She reports back to me on the things I can’t see because people won’t want me around. Rather than make an ass of myself in front of people who already don’t like me, I can just get her to do it, and people just fucking forgive her because she’s Jinhai’s sister.”

But he couldn’t hide that there was something else. That was the kind of agreement their abilities had. She would always have an inclination that he wasn’t being fully honest, but he had the benefit of being in charge of the show.
”I… Feel bad for her. All we think about is that she’s Jinhai’s sister, that’s the only person she really is. Part of me wants to help… So, I’ve been talking to her younger brother. We met him at the Halloween festival. I started to feed him a line, but… He… Reminds me of Kali. Of the old Kali, before the Feds. Goofy weird kid, but he’s got a good heart.”

Greyson cleared his throat again.
”He’s magic. Kindled recently. You should try slipping in there, see if you can. Kid’s got a fortress on him: Like Jinhai. Except it’s all kindness. He’s got Light powers, so it only makes sense… It… Makes me want to forget the past, Anya.”

”Sometimes, I regret teaching you lucid dreaming. Sometimes.”
There was another eye roll at the quiet, background sounds - neither pleasant, but neither actually bothered Anya. She'd quite literally seen it all. As much as she would rather not, she wasn't a prude like her only friend… towards both sex and murder. Of course, the brief flash of coven members' dead bodies hanging from a Sycamore was the most uncomfortable. Not because she cared for their deaths, but rather the possibility she might end up among them.

There was always the chance.

”You know how it works, Greyson, I would need to meet him before I can try to get in. Perhaps at Jinhai’s funeral I'll have the opportunity. It appears I'll be invited, surprisingly.” In part thanks to Sloane paying for the majority of it, she imagined. She didn’t really understand why Greyson felt bad for Linqian - after all, she’d dug the grave she was now in. Anya had very little sympathy there. But she never had, even for people in situations they didn’t deserve. But her younger brother being kindled was interesting to know. Last she'd talked to Jinhai before his death he hadn't been.
”Jinhai spoke about him occasionally, when I used to visit his dreams. A smart child, supposedly, but those two sheltered him too much. It was obvious from how Jinhai spoke about him. But, quite frankly, I’m glad that you’re considering forgetting the past. Glad, but surprised. I didn’t think all it would take is a teenager that actually has hope. ”

Anya shrugged, legs uncrossing as she leaned forward. A small table appeared in front of her and pictures started to form. Portraits of the coven members.
”Not because I’m against killing them. You know where I stand on that. But it is rather limiting to fixate on revenge for something that happened so long ago, to so many of us. Perhaps the accusations towards you were harsher, but using any percentage of your mind thinking about it is a waste. They may be a ‘pack of morons’ as you said earlier, but I disagree that it’s not possible to control them. Take Linqian, for example. One of the hottest tempers, yet she’s under your control in a way, right? They’re morons, but they’re useful morons.”

She tapped one of the photos - Sloane’s.
”Sloane, too. Not well liked, stubborn and seems difficult to even make a suggestion to. But to her, I’m perfect. She’s not far off, aside from her strange belief that I truly care for the coven. I tell her we have to do something for everyone’s good, she’ll do it.”
Anya smiled, looking up at Greyson with a warmer expression in her eyes than she would normally ever have. Perhaps she was growing a little too caring towards Sloane. Not something she was particularly happy about, but not something she could control. Having a single friend wasn’t the end of the world. She still had no qualms talking about her like this.
”What I’m saying is that killing them all is a waste. They can be controlled, and they can be useful - even if that use is protection against our current killer.”

Greyson took in what Anya was saying through a gentle haze of self pity. It wasn’t really Linqian he was worried about, though it was nice to be able to reconnect in a strange way. Moreso, it was Britney knocking around in his head. But he knew enough not to share everything even if she’d know he wasn’t being honest. What’d it matter, after all? They knew the agreement.
So, instead of saying anything, Anya would easily draw up the feelings. The same dream he usually had when his guard was down; Britney Williams in some skimpy sheer nightgown. Only, this time she was dressed. She wasn’t standing next to him with a plate and a drink. She was over him, her chin leaning on the top of his head from behind and her arms wrapped around him..

He held her hand. They wore rings.

”It doesn’t take much to make a man happy. Cash, and a person he can really trust.”
He squeezed Britney’s hand, and she disappeared in a cloud of pink smoke. Greyson took a deep breath. The bloody tree reverberated back into view, then glitched between itself and something else. A quiet place, the Sycamore Tree decorated with spheres of color representative of the different colors of Lux.

”I’m workin’ for Dollhouse. To do… Something to the Coven. I’m not gonna do it: I’m gonna stop them.” he had a look of conviction.
”But they want the Tree. It’s a Font, right? There’s power in the roots. Who better to use it than the people who put it away in the first place, I figure… We can cut something out once it’s all over, right? Do it properly this time?”

It was difficult for Anya to keep the disdain from her expression when Britney appeared, so disgustingly romantic with the rings, but she managed to retain a calm smile. Put back up the mask of politeness for a moment. It wasn't that she disliked Britney. Of course not. It was the romance, the love, the want to tie himself down to one person. Men were simple, she supposed.

”It seems that everyone is after the Tree.”
Anya pursed her lips. If the Dollhouse, who she'd heard of and knew very little about- but enough to know they were dangerous- wanted the Tree, and the PRA did to… who else would?
”The PRA are also looking for the Tree too. They say it's out of concern, but I don't believe that. Whoever finds it will use it. I agree that we should be the ones to find and use it. Do what we should have in the first place, before everything devolved to petty fights under poor leadership.”

She let out a soft sigh, gaze trailing to the Sycamore Tree. It was a nice thought. If they could control the coven, that was. There were too many that wouldn't be able to handle the power.
”I already discussed looking for the tree with Jack and Sloane. Sloane was for it, Jack was against it, for now. Of course… if Sloane finds it first, she'll want to be in control. Something I can handle, but a possible issue.” She sighed again. ”Working with the Dollhouse, but subtly against them, is smart. Far smarter than not working with them. How much do they know about the Tree? The PRA know pitifully little.”

”He doesn’t know enough…”
Greyson was seventeen again, cross-legged beneath the Sycamore Tree. Anya could recognize the flashes of the event immediately: The black sky, the rushing wind, the chanting. The Ritual of Clean Slates; the day after they’d sealed the Stygian Snake, there was a ritual that had to take place.
The leadership agreed that knowing where they buried the beast was bad all around. Nobody needed to have that kind of power…

It was the only time Greyson had been allowed in everyone’s heads. He had to scrub everything, after all. The last thing he was ever useful for. But he held a secret: That he hadn’t finished. Did anyone have their memories? No, but he still hadn’t completely cleared the memories for the ritual to be completed.
The actual tree and its surroundings were blurry, like they weren’t real, so one couldn’t gleam a location if they happened to probe his mind.
”If Luis knew everything, I’d already be dead.”

He showed Anya the last time he saw Luis in person, a trip to Miami before he’d come here to St. Portwell. And then he showed her that man killing him a thousand different ways in the blink of an eye.
”The memories would wake up. But, I can reverse it. When the time is right… When our enemies are gone.”

His last image showed Greyson in a suit at a table, surrounded by other strange faces. Anya was shifted into a position as if she were some sort of board member.
”Let’s take Dollhouse for ourselves, Anya. We’ll cut some others in. Useful people, like Linqian and Sloane. Loyal idiots. And then when the time comes, we’ll open the door again. And we’ll make things better for ourselves, and by proxy, them.”

The dream shifting outwith of her control so rapidly was something Anya disliked, but had to accept when it came to visiting Greyson's dreams. The risk with any pink lux, but especially one she'd passed on a fraction of her dream manipulation knowledge to. But being shifted to a specific position… she couldn't hold back her frown at that.
”Yes, let's. Having control of the Dollhouse will allow us control of the magical world beyond it. It will be difficult to convince Sloane, with her strong morals, but if it's for the protection of everyone else… That’s a future concern. There are a few more that could be useful, but I can't say I care for any of them.” Ah. Did she just admit to caring for Sloane? A bit of a slip up. No matter.

”As for the memories… I'm not surprised you left a way to reverse it. Sealing the Stygian Snake in a tree was never going to work as a permanent solution. Not as it is now, without protection.”
She waved a hand, fountain pen glowing as the image of a woman appeared. Average height, average appearance, Asian with tired eyes and dark hair tied in a bun.
”There’s a risk when it comes to the memories. This is Lihn Phan, a therapist in the city. Pink lux too. She has a spell that allows her to see and share memories someone has forgotten. There's a chance she could access the memory of where the Tree is from another coven member, which would be… a problem with who she sees. Adora for one. I met with her, and have entered her dreams, but unfortunately I haven't been able to figure out the extent of her pink lux. Perhaps something you would have an easier time of.”

Anya held up her hands with a genuine smile.
”Easier to nip any problems in the bud, right?”

Greyson considered what Anya was talking about, and as he did so, the room they were in flashed with a hundred mirrored screens, each one popping up a great big green thumbs up.
”I’ll send Henri. It’ll be a good first assignment for him, since I have the memories. Letting her get near me would be problematic if she found some way to get into my little box…”
Which was almost always present somewhere in Greyson’s Warm Little Center. He often wondered why he called it that, on account of how it never seemed to make anyone but him feel warm…
”I think people misjudge me.-” he said before his mind could betray him to her. ”-I really do have my loved ones’ best interests at heart. Crudeness aside; I was never taught better. You keep someone in the dark until the problem isn’t a problem, and then you get them a gold watch to celebrate. Until then, you keep your mouth shut, you handle your business, and you fuckin’... I don’t know…”

He cleared his throat. Another admission.
”But it’s the year of our Lord ς̷̢̥̙̤̌̈́̆̈́̌͜0̷̨̞̪͖̏͒̑̎͘͜ς̴̧̠͉̘̘̆͑̏̑̚μ̶̱͍̯͚̜͌͑̓͠͝, and nowadays if we plan on actually… Working with someone, you’ve gotta communicate. So here-”
The closest screens moved forward, opening up a group of images. They were faces. One was bigger than the other. He was obviously familiar, the chiseled features supported a lion’s mane of black hair.

”We know Leon. You all don’t know his spooky family.-”
The monitors shifted, bringing up a very candid image of the Temple’s main family and heirarchy.
”-The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals. A cult who believes the end of the world is the start of the next, and they want to make it happen right here in good ol’ St. Portwell. Typical shit. Ignore this.-”

The main one opened a video of a strange ritual. A plate of food on an altar, Lynette Richoux in dark robes. An oath taken.
”-We’re all technically members; I just took advantage of it for business. Now I have an in, and they’re the ones responsible for Void Heart’s recent sealing.”
He handed over Layla’s memories to Anya on a silver platter in the form of a dossier file that slid across the table. Touching it, Anya would instantly feel the flush of information first hand from those moments, as well as the situation between The Temple, The House of Cards, and how Sycamore factored in.

”I meet with Dollhouse later this morning to let them know the situation and see how they want to handle it. Frankly, House of Cards is the more dangerous group in my estimation. More likely to do something unhinged for the sake of it. After that, I’ll… Probably head to that thing at Kari’s house. I’ve been staying with Brit, and she mentioned it, but since I had business earlier I had to step out.”
He had another drink in his hand instantly, and another for Anya.
”Do we have a deal for now?”

It was a lot of information to process, but Anya did so easily. She already knew about all the factions at play in the city, but not quite to this degree. She'd seen whispers of the Temple in Leon's dreams without realising it was his family. She didn't know they were all members either. The House of Cards was one she'd briefly looked into through Luna's dreams and then ignored as unimportant. Frankly, she still didn't care all that much, as they were unlikely to be a danger to her.

But working with Greyson was more beneficial than not. The information that came from Layla's dossier was interesting enough to make Anya smile. Ah, poor Layla. What a tragedy - but so idiotic to go to a group like the House of Cards to solve what was barely a problem. She was glad now Sloane hadn't been invited to the sealing.
”First, in the interest of 'communication', I'll briefly tell you my connections. Ah, well, connection, the PRA isn't of us. I'm working with Ezra Vanburen. I'm sure he needs no explanation - interestingly enough he's paranormal in some form. He's looking for help manipulating some of his peers, and in return, well… We'll see,” she smiled, and gestured with her free hand. ”I’ll be at Kari's house, to make sure things run as smoothly as possible.”

She smiled, and raised her glass towards him.
”While I'm not particularly concerned for my own wellbeing, I do agree that the House of Cards isn't a problem we want to leave unchecked. Best to deal with them first. I'll do what I can on my end through their member's dreams. So yes, we have a deal, for now.”

”Did you say Ezra Vanburen?”
Greyson’s face grew wide and terrible. The monitor shuddered for a moment, and an interesting image spat out. Another giant man, and another familiar face.
”Recognize her? Petty Patty the Peener Eater?-”
It zoomed in tight on the face of Trisha Vanburen of the Sycamore Tree Coven. Then up to the other man. He looked so familiar and so different, but then one of the other monitors blinked.
”-Shacked up with Leon’s younger brother Casey. Saw ‘em on the cams of one of the bars Halloween night, then saw them myself Yesterday while they were out buying food. Funny how small St. Portwell is…” he grinned.

”Of course I recognise her, it's impossible to forget someone so horrible,” Anya raised an eyebrow at the images. How curious. She was surprised that Patricia was still haunting St Portwell… well, she was dependent on her family's money after all.
”I’m sure it won't last long. Do you remember how many relationships she had the short time the coven was around? Five or six, perhaps. There was even that boy who died when with her, what was his name? It doesn't matter. I'm surprised Leon is tolerating it. Well, it. is funny how these people gravitate to each other.”

Her lips twisted into an almost smug smile.
”Ezra certainly didn't know that she had magic. It was enough of a shock to wake him up. But this is even more interesting… Small town indeed.”
She was sure Ezra would be delighted to find out his worst sibling was also hooking up with a member of what was practically a cult.

There was a gentle vibration that wobbled the entire world. Greyson looked a bit upset.
”You know, this happens every time… It's six-thirty, and I’ve gotta get up. I’ll see you soon, eh?”

But he was already awake, staring at the fridge. The soft morning light was just pushing through the large windows that surrounded the penthouse. His mouth was dry, and he had a sick feeling in his stomach. Barbaric hunger, it growled and bit at him, and Edict slowly stood to face himself again.
The shiny metal surface showed his sunken eyes lacking in any kind of sleep.

You’re gonna die if you don’t make up your mind.

Part 4: November 3rd, Morning
Downtown St. Portwell, Christiansands
Guest Starring @Punished GN

The boulevard kissed by the grace of Christiansands was bathed in the late Autumn’s cool sunlight. As Edict crossed the street from his parking space, he tugged his long coat tight to his chest, his shoulders rotating in their sockets as he stretched his muscles. The night prior had been spent making another temporary bubble of breathing room available for Edict and his few allies within the Sycamore Tree Coven, and now he was approaching the most dangerous aspect of his job up until now.
Dollhouse didn’t play. Luis certainly didn’t want to hear that Edict had a problem he couldn’t avoid, but it also wasn’t necessarily Edict’s fault. But he knew the score; you didn’t walk into a situation without a plan. And the plan, for the moment, was to get Dollhouse to shift focus.

With House of Cards playing Phantasia Vorpal’s game, the chances were only going to get higher that they’d become a problem for the magical syndicate. They were after Sycamore, but The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals was a big cash organization with the capability of producing and reproducing materials barely found in their dimension. Their account was Edict’s responsibility, and while he didn’t think that they’d just roll over and let the House have their way with Andrade, that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to get messy regardless.

So, he wanted to present a sit-down. That was always the first way he’d been taught to handle conflict; at the tip of the tongue, not the sword. Violence was the last way out, unless it was the first way out in which case it couldn’t be avoided… Which tended to happen fairly often. Edict found himself considering a line of thinking that had escaped him since his days in the old Coven.
I really am a softy. So sensitive, so deep, so troubled…
The new leaf thing was really going great. He was a whole twelve hours without using his powers, and longer if he was allowed to use his powers but only for good. His fingers twitched as he pulled at the side door to Christiansands and entered into the hall adjacent to the main club.

Edict pulled his gloves and hat off, thinking about the first time he’d been to this place. It was usually so lively, but this early in the day there weren’t even cleaners. It wasn’t a bar; it didn’t have a kitchen or anything to serve food out of, so the only place for him to go was probably the VIP lounge.
They’d seemed receptive to having the meeting, getting back to him only a few minutes after his meeting with House of Cards concluded the previous evening. He doubted Luis was in town, and wondered who exactly would take the man’s place for such a thing.

His lips pursed together, and he gently whistled an old tune as his legs began to saunter toward the back where the stairs were to go up toward the VIP. It was around a slight corner, and he casually leaned with his step to see if there was a body blocking the entry way, or if he’d just be able to go up.




“... Edict!” Luis said cheerfully, he and Natalie were sitting on the sofa across the room. Luis had his arm across the back… And behind them, standing with her arms behind her back was a tall, mysterious, African-American lady. “Come in, come in! We’ve been expecting you…”

Without his glasses, Luis would be able to see Edict’s surprise.
"Woah, holy shit! Luis, I didn’t think they made coats thick enough to keep you warm in weather like this…”
He slowly approached the sofa and let his torso bend, arm holding the hat wrapping at his gut as he bowed.
"Good to see you again as well, Natalie…”

It wasn’t exactly a rule so much as a rule of thumb, that the person who was menacing around in the background usually ended up being a guard. In those cases, they weren’t addressed, no matter how badly Edict wanted to make a fool out of himself trying to hit her switches.
"Thank you for meeting on such short notice… I didn’t think you were in town, but clearly I was mistaken. Gladly, as well. There’s a dispute brewing, and I was hoping to present what I’ve done, what I’m doing, and what I’d like to do about it.”

It had to be a plan, after all. You didn’t visit people like this without at least pretending you have a plan.

“... No drinks first?” Natalie took a sip of her whiskey, then laughed.

“Well, let’s get right into business then,” Luis said.”I’m certain you are itching to tell us all about it.”

“Where is Heinrich?” Natalie asked.

“He’s around,” Luis said. “You know he’s shy.”

“... Or he scares the piss out of everyone,” Natalie said.

"Oh, I won’t oppose a drink! I figured I’d respect your time, but if nobody here is short, I’ve got eyes on what Sycamore’s up to right now. Eyes I’d trust. May I sit?” Edict asked.

“... You’re our guest,” Luis said. “Think we’ll make you stand?”

Edict shrugged his shoulders.
"Something I learned in your part of the world-” he started, popping the buttons on his coat and pulling it away before he sat down. "-is that the surface of the water doesn’t always tell you how dangerous the current below is. I prefer askin’.”

He pulled his cigarette case out and plucked a smoke from within. His lighter flicked into the relative silence of the club, and he took a puff to blow away the tension.
"I’ll tell you, the Festival this year? What a bust… Practically gutted, y’know I remember being a little kid and going, and man, the stink bombs and firecrackers, you’d think it was a warzone. Now? It’s fuckin’ Kiddie Land if you don’t think about the hundred or so wizards in the crowd.”

“Surprised you went!” Luis laughed.

“Yeah, that doesn't seem like your scene at all, but Shayton went!” Natalie laughed. “Ran into that..: weird kid. He slipped right by us again, but we’ll find him.”

"Been goin’ since I was a kid. Good fun for the whole Family, Uncle and cousins and siblings, everyone goes. I just happened to make plans with my dear old friends. Bunch’a putz’s.”
He had no problem conjuring his recently swayed feelings. He still wasn’t sure he even felt any different than he had before.

"Shayton… Don’t ring a bell? Oh, shit, the old Grando with the locks? I did see that kid, not for real long though, what’s goin’ on with that?” Edict asked with a casual tone.
In truth, he hadn’t even remembered the kid until now with Luis mentioning him.

“... Well,” Natalie shrugged. “During Judas’ last stand, the kid nabbed him before the Feds could. Started asking him a bunch of questions about your favorite serial killer.”

“Judas was about to rat us out.” Luis leaned back and put his hands together. “Shayton silenced him.”

"What the fuck is he, some kind of Ab? There’s no way he’s an Adept unless he’s some serious Green fucker with a kiddy fetish…”
Edict stared off into the smoke of his cigarette thinking about that creepy face.
"Ah, never mind, that’s my job to figure out, right?” Edict laughed, holding his cigarette case out across the couch.
"Anyone care for one? Naturally processed, these expire y’know? Our Op down in Louisiana…”

“Fuck yeah, the fancy shit!” Natalie said, as she took one. Luis silently took one himself, and they both lit theirs with their respective lighters.

“But, Shayton thinks the kid is a shapeshifter… Adept, Adjoined, Agent…” Luis shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, we’ll find that out.”

He took a puff, then said, “Next time you see that kid, let me know. We’ll send some men to grab him…”

“Hell! Maybe we’ll send Shaquita!” Natalie laughed, gesturing towards their silent bodyguard.

Edict grinned.
"You can send Shaquita my way anytime you’d like.”
A thick rolling exhale trickled back into Edict’s nose, a french inhale accompanying a wicked grin as his eyes trailed up to the Bodyguard.
"But I will. Hell, he could be with the Sycamore right now. Not that it’d be a great time to move, between Drake Blackmore, Stormy Carson, could be anyone over there willing to throw wrenches…”

Edict had eased back into the couch he was on, eyes doing their best to not wander too far for fear of giving any lingering nerves away.

Shaquita shook her head as Natalie laughed.

“I’m very acquainted with those two,” She finally spoke. “I can take them.”

“But timing is everything,” Luis said. “And we’ll have the perfect opportunity to grab him soon enough. But, what did you want to tell us, Edict?”

“Yeah, I’m shaking with anticipation here!” Natalie laughed.

He hadn’t gotten that drink…
"Right, of course. I’ll give it to you straight: House of Cards is making an issue. Usually, we’d keep things in the Family, you see, since it should supersede the sorts of disagreement we’re having. I wouldn’t come to you if it didn’t cross over into our life.”
Edict flicked his ashes into the nearby tray, the crystal perfectly shined and polished; and it’d have to be done again before opening.
”Alizee Alitere. Dead! Her Apparition pal, Void Heart? Apparently, some time ago, they saved Phantasia Vorpal from the fire that consumed the old House of Cards… Now, the thing’s been sealed! She’s looking for revenge: Wouldn’t be such a problem were it not for the people involved.”

Taking another drag, Edict leaned forward trying to recall everything.
”Seems like Alizee was wrapped up with the Temple. Y’know, the Temple of… Pfff, whatever. The Cult I’ve been siphoning material from for you. Those Orange-Enchanted Arms and shit? It’s their problem, which makes it my money’s problem. The way I figure, that makes it your problem as well, considering some of the more expensive products that come out of there. What was that last shipment of Niatanium worth?”

He smirked, waving his hand.
”Don’t answer that. I already know, and I’m willing to bet it’s more than you want to lose. The long and skinny of it: Their man inside, the chef Andrade Salamente, is their chief Sealer. Blue and Black Lux user, he’s got this knife that they’re obsessed with. I’m betting because it’s what their man Void Heart is trapped in. It’s in my estimation that Phantasia Vorpal’s willing to go to war over this. Not just with the North-West families, but with Sycamore, with The Temple… I’ve got a few ideas, but I didn’t think it’d be right to act without coming to see you first.”

“Alizee Alteri…” Luis trailed off, “Shame what happened to her. If we had known that Sycamore suspected Judas, then we could have nipped that in the bud, but it is what it is.” Luis finished that statement with a shrug.

“Perhaps we can talk to them and see if we can mediate peace before this gets out of hand.” Luis asked.

“... Or we can send Shaquita to air that ratty casino out!” Natalie said.

”It’s kind of amazing how quickly everyone threw their hat in for Judas as Father Wolf.”
Edict was ready to try something that he figured wouldn’t work, but it was subtle enough.
”If only they really knew, huh?”

The words hung in the quiet air. Edict raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“... Desperation is a bitch,” Shaquita spoke up from behind them. “Isn’t it?”?”

Edict’s eyebrows raised even higher.
”Desperate is pulling a gun out in the hopes that you’ll hold me.” he replied, laughing.
”Anyway-” he started again, leaning back. ”- I’ve got some plans about how to handle the situation, unless you wanted to try and get Vorpal’s crazy ass to back off of course.”

“We are going to always negotiate first…” Luis said, “But do tell, I am curious.”

He cleared his throat.
”Well… First thought was just letting them turn on Sycamore. Vorpal, and the little hoe-stess that Void Heart decided to suckle up to; Layla Hycicanthus or whatever, they were both real hard for Auri Auclair, Jack Offhorn or Hawthorne, whatever… But I guess my Britney was involved, so I had to do some adjusting already. Now I’ve got them solely locked on the Temple, so I was hoping that since we’re all involved and tangled up with one another, we’d just do a sit-down between Lynette and Phantasia. But they’re both crazy enough that something bad could happen, and I don’t mean bad for either of them.”

He bit his lip.
”So my gambit would be to bring someone in… Word on the street is that Salamente is looking for an apprentice: Someone to pass down the ol’ spellbook to in case anything were to happen to him. And now, after the House attacked him, they’re accelerating the process. I have a candidate, and they’d simply unseal the Void Heart and let him run home to Vorpal. Deal with those consequences later.”

“... And if that doesn't work?” Luis asked.

”I think we’d have bigger problems than we have right now if it didn’t work. I didn’t say they were foolproof plans, just… Plans, y’know? ‘S why I’m here, feel?”
Which was true. Knowing the Temple, they’d be willing to part with their prize for the right price. It was what happened after that really worried Edict. Chances were, Void Heart wasn’t just going to play nice with Sycamore, even if things somehow smoothed over between the House and Temple.

That meant there wasn’t a scenario where Britney was off the hook. That was scary.

”The alternative would be to steal the knife for ourselves, and release Void Heart and whoever else we can when the time’s right. I’m certain he’s not the only monster locked up in that knife…”

Luis was silent… obviously thinking.

“My issue with both of your plans is that the Void Heart will escape,” Luis began. “The issue… The issue… The Void Heart - and whatever host he chooses - is unpredictable. The incident that Veni Vedi Veni is proof of that.”

He shook his head. “You see Edict, we have a plan for… quelling the chaos St. Portwell faces. And the issue is that the Void Heart is a walkin-”

“... Floating,” Shaquita noted.

“... A floating, chaotic element, and chaotic elements like him have no place in my model for the city,” Luis explained, “If he runs back to Sycamore, it’s only a matter of time before he begins causing trouble. Like I said before, if we had knowledge beforehand we could have avoided this situation entirely!”

Edict cleared his throat, wondering if it was worth making a stink over.
”You saying I didn’t do my job Luis? I beg forgiveness for not predicting that the unpredictable would happen. Frankly, I was hoping to get everything under control before word got back to you… But the writing is on the walls, you’d have seen it soon enough. This is my money we’re talking about. Fuck the city, you can have it. I just want the tree cut down, and to ride off into the sunset having done my part.”

Not exactly…

”But what I’m hearing is that you’re interested in keeping the floating nutsack in his prison? I had also thought about forcing him directly into a new target under our control… Some blind I’ve had the chance to work on first; get them hooked so Void’s influence is secondary to their addiction…”

“What we need is the Floating Testicle to be a non-issue,” Luis calmly answered. “He made it dead clear that he, and his host, will not behave. Not just that, if he makes the stupid decision to go back to Sycamore a third time…” He sighed, and shook his head.

“... In other words, the thing is problematic.” Luis finished.

“Might I intrude?” Shaquita asked.

“You may,” Luis said.

You don’t want the House of Cards to be a problem,” Shaquita said to Edict.

”There’s only a few things I’d want more.” Edict nodded.

“And you don’t want the Void Heart to be a problem,” Shaquita said to Luis.

“That is correct.”

“His idea of releasing the Void Heart to his last - or even a new host - is not a bad idea,” Shaquita began, “But, there’s nothing saying we can’t just teleport the Void Heart and his host to a different dimension. They already made it dead clear that, despite seemingly caring so much about the Void Heart, they pretty much let him go unmonitored. Or, I know we don’t mess with the Feds, siccing the PRA on them and letting the House of Cards duke it out with them.”

She sighed, “That way, the Void Heart and the House of Cards are simply someone else’s problem.”

Edict’s face scrunched slightly as he thought about the ramifications of the PRA getting involved. He, frankly, would’ve rather gone back to Seattle to get permission from the Bosses to have Vorpal killed than he would’ve had the Feds poking into Mafia business.
”That last bit’s great until you’re the one whose organization is under the looking-glass. Feds in La Cosa Nostra’s business ain’t great: I say if they don’t cooperate? They get the portal treatment. Shunt’em all into whatever hellscape we can, and keep makin’ money with the Temple until they get the same end.”

And what end do you get?

He took a deep breath and thought for another second about what was coming next.
”Do we have any kind of leverage here? Something concrete we can lean on either side over?” Edict asked after a few more moments’ thought.

“None at the moment other than that girl Layla…” Luis trailed off for a moment. “Right now, using her is simply not an option.”

“It doesn’t have to be the PRA, but the point is that we just make The Void Heart someone else’s problem,” Shaquita said. “I would recommend putting them in the Pit, a monster like him would thrive there.”

”Then it should be the host he wants, no? Give him back Layla: I’ve already dosed her several times. By the time we get the two of them back together, she’ll be willing to listen to whatever it is I say. I tell her that you guys are going to help her, and hey the Teleportation goes wrong! Bye bye Voidheart, sorry Phantasia these things happen.”
Edict shrugged his shoulders in his assertion.
”Then we make it the Pit’s problem, she can’t be out taking revenge on people when she’s busy trying to open a hole to get back to her precious purple testicle.”

“Trust me,” Shaquita said, tilting her head downwards. “She’ll want to stay there. It’s a home for people like her, after all.” She cracked a wry grin.

“Sounds solid… as a Plan B,” Luis began. “Before we take any option, we’re going to meet with The House of Cards’ leadership and see if there is any way to peacefully resolve this. We know that’s not going to be possible, but Dollhouse doesn’t jump to the nuclear option unless strictly necessary….”

He glanced at Natalie, then Shaquita, then Edict, “However, we will already have Plan B ready by the time of the meeting so we can put it into action when the Vorpals inevitably don’t play ball.”

”Right… So, do you want me there? Or am I free to return my focus to the Sycamore Tree?”
As in, find a better way to cover their asses. Edict may've been feeling a change of heart lately, but that didn't stop those goons from being the single most disorganized pack of morons one could find.

The streets of St. Portwell would be safer once they all dispersed.

“Go back to Sycamore,” Luis waved his hand. “We need eyes on them especially…”

He put his fingertips together, “They are a very unpredictable lot, to say the least…”

”Yeah, the absolute least, I’d say…”
He looked between Luis and the other two women with some amount of concern, knowing for certain

that the pack of untrained cats that was the Sycamore Tree Coven would stop at nothing to put themselves further into harm’s way.
”Now, as far as this little… List… You gave me?”
He pulled the note out with the names of people he was supposed to watch.
”It’s a fuckin’ crapshoot. I’m hearing the names, trying to move people toward them to get lookin’, but I can’t read minds like it’s easy. People know when I mess with them. Anything to assist with that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Luis said, “You’re supposed to keep eyes on Sycamore first and foremost. If you happen to pass by them, then keep your eyes on them…”

Edict nodded, scrunching his face. Luis always played with his hand close to his chest. Shrugging his shoulders, he nodded along with Luis’ instructions.
”Well… Alright! I’ve said my piece then, that’s the situation. Currently, if my informant is correct, there’s a larger gathering of them at the residence of a former member. A deceased former member… She was pretty important back in the day, Kari Wilson? Definitely an HVT if she wasn’t six feet under. But I guess they’re tossing her property for any notes or hints they can find.” he offered the information up freely, figuring nothing was going to come of it now.

”I can get eyes on direct, or keep working my angles otherwise. Your call if you want me to rush over there or not, but I’m certain I’ll be able to get them copied if they find them. Regardless of being there or not.”

Shaquita raised an eyebrow the instant he named Kari.

“We would have loved her in Dollhouse,” Luis said before he shrugged. “But, alas.”

“Who’s this informant?” Natalie asked. “Is it our newest employee?” She smiled.

Edict’s eyes narrowed. Newest employee?
”Linqian Han?” Edict asked with a slightly concerned voice.

“No,” Natalie said, “… Tayla Choi.”

There was the echo of an interaction still ringing in Edict’s head. A burning bar, a strung out Severed blind.
”Fat lot of good she’ll do being Severed. When did this happen?”

“The same night you had fun times with the Feds,” Natalie laughed.

“We gave her an artifact we acquired,” Luis said. “That Melody, allows her to convert thoughts into sound.”

Edict’s face turned from confusion to concern almost instantly.
”If that’s the case, I’d appreciate a meeting with her. Because I definitely said something to her the other night without considering that she was working with you. If we have to work together, it’ll be pivotal that the situation gets diffused. I understand that it may be outside of your desired involvement, but… It’d be a favor, frankly, for me and my big mouth.”

“We’ll arrange something,” Luis said. “Otherwise, she has no place in Dollhouse.”

”Then it’s settled.”
Edict stood up, grabbing his coat and starting to swing it back over his shoulders.
”The thing I care about most is the House of Cards. It puts this in jeopardy, and it puts La Cosa Nostra in jeopardy: I’ve done a lot of hard work to prevent their prying, Blind eyes from trying to learn about business that isn’t theirs. I look forward to hearing about the results… Anything else you think I can take care of in your stead?”

Luis grinned.

“… We have everything under control,” Luis took a puff. “Trust us.”

Edict grinned, nodding his head.
”Luis… This is me we’re talking about. Of course you’ve got my trust.”
He wondered absolutely nothing. Edict’s head was empty of errant thought, cleared and focused. If Tayla Choi had That Melody, then for as long as Edict was going to be around the Sycamore Tree Coven, he’d never have another stray feeling or emotion or image cross his mind. It was too dangerous for something like that to be used on him. She didn’t need to dig deep to broadcast a whole lot of compromising shit if he wasn’t paying attention.

Obfuscate. Keep things hidden behind the smokey glass…

But he wasn’t going to play with Tayla Choi…
Unless?
No… Out of respect for Luis’ plan, he’d not intentionally make her. He’d let her poke and prod, he could take it.

”Natalie, Shaquita… Pleasure seeing you both. Luis? You’re The Man, man. Oh, and-”
As Edict backed off, he put his finger up to his temple.
”-I’m workin’ on a spell reversal. I may’ve gotten rid of the keys that day, but I’ll pick the lock. We’ll find that fuckin’ tree.”

“Yes…” Luis grinned. “We will.”

Part 5: November 3rd, Morning
The Road to Kari’s Place

Edict was driving casually, as if there wasn’t a thing more important in the world. He hadn’t gotten any text messages, only sent a couple: One to Linqian, purely informative that he’d be there soon. The other to Britney, telling her he had some good news, and redundantly that he’d be arriving shortly. The only reason he knew where they’d be in the first place is because he got the address from Britney the day before, before his nighttime meeting, but he didn’t exactly like the locale.

It was in one of the reclaimed areas, quiet and desolate as a part of the forests around St. Portwell did their best to swallow up the neighborhood. If something was gonna go wrong, he figured it’d be out there. But, again, thankfully no texts had come back through. He didn’t think anything of it until his phone lost connection: No good towers. Funny how it happened fifteen minutes outside the main residential hub of a main city, but those were the breaks.

He stuffed the gas pedal, and Smokey’s engine rumbled with power as it hurdled down the winding back road into the sticks. He was trying real hard not to extend a feeler out toward the direction he was driving.
No magic… Not on them. Even if they’re in trouble, they’ll stop to bitch at you for it. They’ll spit in your face before they accept you’ve helped them. It’s not for them. It's for you.

Not that it mattered. Right around the time he was turning onto the road he wrote down, there were some rumbles that threw the car off its arcing trajectory and caused Edict to swerve. It slowed him down enough to take a look for what had done it. Panic was already set in, feeling rumbles like that close to the spot. Like there was already a fight or something.

Gentle raindrops were hitting his windshield.

A fleshy monstrosity towered over the nearby trees.

There was a dot in the sky, and it was bright purple.

It wasn’t looking good. Edict ripped the e-brake of the car and popped the trunk from the inside. He was looking for quite a few things, plenty of which he re-packed before leaving the apartment that morning. His vest, not that it mattered much save for the grenades, and his Thompson which he also figured wouldn’t get a great deal of use.
He also grabbed a brick, and after he had everything he needed, he slipped a pair of black leather gloves over his hands and threw his longcoat back on over his body armor. The gun’s sling was tight with so much bulk, but he could still get it into position easily enough.

Catching one person off guard will be enough.

He hit the front seat again after smashing the trunk shut, and the vehicle skittered to a stop another hundred feet down the road. As he made his approach, Edict could see the massive ice barrier blocking off the driveway, giving him ample amount of time to set up.
The assumption was that this barrier was magical, but Edict found he had a decent amount of distance between the start of the driveway and where the ice actually started. He opened the hood of the car, pulling the four grenades that were dangling from his vest, pulling the pins, and setting them to rest on precarious parts that held the pins in place. The idea was that any solid impact would rest the ordinance loose, causing it and the car to act as an explosive entry tool.

Fully aligned at the end of the driveway, Edict stuffed the brick onto the accelerator, and as the ponderous engine made way for max revs, he was free to make for the treeline toward the edge of the drive.
He couldn’t bring himself to wait for the results. Anticipation filled his gut, and he moved on through the trees. As he skulked into the woods, he did his best to run every chance he got, sprinting from tree to tree trying to see if there was a way around the ice barrier. He’d pulled his sunglasses from the loose pocket they’d been slipped into, instantly channeling a subtle tendril to hunt for Britney’s signal on the other side of the barrier.

There had to be somewhere, someone, something who could help him get to her… All he could hope was that she was still there at all.

Kenshiro

Mentions: Emily G. Reed, Kari Wilson, Carol Doyle, His Dead Wife | Direct Dialogue: Clancy Patrick/@Zombiedude101, Britney Williams/@Punished GN, Luca Olivera/@FernStone | Location: Kari's House

It was pretty difficult to get Ken to react. At best, for the first few minutes people started to disperse, he just wandered off into a particularly private corner and continued his (slightly muffled) sobbing fit. Of course everyone else wanted help; they wanted to act like they were going to take control and figure out where Kari's notes were. All Ken could feel like was a failure for a second time. Maybe Drake understood now, a little bit... In his own mind, he was taking this far better than the death of his Wife. He was only crying, there were no outbursts of Purple magic or feelings of the last possible resort.
Kenshiro wasn't resigned to death; he was resigned to revenge. That he would spend the rest of his natural, and perhaps a future unnatural life, hunting and seeking and finding and killing. He wished a Fiend would bubble up from the floor and tell him that his Curse shall never end. He got satisfaction in chopping messengers like that in half, usually.

Instead the strange child who had broken into Kari's home was the one to break his slump at first. He said something close to comforting, only to rip it away as Ken clammed up at the suggestion that Kari would get involved with this. The suggestion that it may have been Lionel did occur to him during the previous Recollection, especially with 8th Street's reputation. Ken knew better than most what Kari was dealing with as far as pressure was concerned, as her spellbook was one of the most sought after in the entire city. It paid to have the All-Seeing Eye embrace you...
"The Paths are secure: Master Kai's Wardenry was perfected in The Viscous, and he had thousands of equivalent years to perfect their security... Noone outside the Palette Clans have knowledge of their workings. By my estimation, looking at her Coin Collection, there were no broken knots or undone ties, meaning they've remained bundled and nobody found them in the freezer." he said, doing his best to remain composed.
"If she had any sort of hand in this, she was either brainwashed, or forced! But if 8th Street was breathing down her neck, then Emily G. Reed is the first fucking person I'm interested in seeing. Because I already...-"

Ken choked up again, gripping his mouth and letting Clancy address Britney.
"I don't know what you did to people, to make them something they're not, but I know what it's like to be on the other side of that."
"Oh, my friend... She's a Pactmaker! And the whole reason Emily G. Reed is a bitter, wretched fucking cunt today?-" Ken pointed at Britney. "-Is because of you, Britney Williams. Because if it wasn't for you, and your dirty deeds? She'd be a stain on the pavement of St. Portwell. And we'd all be better off for it... Including my fucking Kari! Now what is my fucking life, Britney!? Empty! I have you people! You! And you know what the worst part is? I never would've known were it not for Kari telling me... The only other woman I thought I'd ever be able to truly open up to, and she's gone!"

But before he could make much more of a stink about things, another Recollection washed across the group. Ken wondered what the hell was going on and what the reason could be to receive two memories back to back, but his wonder quickly faded. Rage became him, watching Emily G. Reed and her cronies ransack his girlfriend's house while she lay cold and dead in a funeral home somewhere. He was so upset by it that he almost forced himself out of the Recollection to make a bad decision, but ultimately found something useful.
He only vaguely knew Carol, hearing about the different members second hand from Kari herself. He was distinctly aware of her ability, however, to repair. To fix what's broken somehow, it was described to him but he paid little attention at the time. But, they were excited about burned papers? Kari wouldn't have burned her papers, he thought. She'd have no reason to: They were always coded. And not coded like some methodical magic would be able to decipher it. She had serious ideas about the security of information, it's why she was so insistent on still putting everything down on paper and not using some digital medium.

He recognized Vashti stealing a blanket he'd gotten Kari from The Whisper. It was simple fabric, but it reacted to the body heat of the individual: It was perfect for someone whose blood was cold. He only hoped that if she still had it, she'd ruin it somehow and make it unusable... It wasn't hers to enjoy. As everything faded, Ken was filled with a strange confidence he couldn't describe to the others. Rather than return to his previous default, he immerged from the Recollection with faith in his heart and fury at his fingertips. If he was right, and the notes weren't Kari's? If they were just some red herring devised by the fleeing Kari in a last ditch effort to throw 8th off her scent?
He'd be able to act with utter impunity. No fear of the risks. Only vengeance.

"T-they're... They're not hers!" he said calmly, looking up toward Clancy and the girls further on. At once, he was frenetic again, and bounding up the basement stairs only to nearly trip over Luca.
”8th Street are coming.”
It was never nice to see Luca in this state. He was nervous. More nervous than he should've been, and Ken was quick to lift him up by way of a magical hand.
"Good, Brother... Good. Easy, now. Stand? And look at me!-" he said, speaking up again. He spoke loud enough that the whole house would've been able to hear him. "-They think they're so powerful? So strong? For insulting the honor of a dead friend and ransacking her home? Don't let this stand, Sycamore Tree! War Cometh!"

He put both his arms around Luca, embracing him as the physically closest object of affection he could interact with. There was a familiar gentle bubbling feeling, not against Ken's flesh, but against Luca's. The same kind of hug Ken usually gave him, where contact was extended and made safe by a small telekinetic bubble that prevented the rot from climbing onto him. It always vibrated and popped as little air bubbles trapped within escaped the field. Pulling back, Ken's eyes were still filled with tears.
"Come on... Tell the Rot. He can have his day today, when we turn their entire mansion into mushroom food."

Despite the tears, he smiled. But he only had a little time left now to prepare. He pulled a small bamboo stick full of clay from his vest and began to channel a spell. The metal on his headband began to glow gold, and he snapped the bamboo in half. Another Ken formed from the clay in his hands, building itself out of gold energy until he was holding his own hand. The Dummy Buddy smiled at him, and he nodded back to it. They didn't speak to one another, but the Buddy was happy to stand in for Ken as he made his way out the back door.
Knees buckled, and all at once Kenshiro flung himself vertically into the air until he had a bird's eye view of the property. Meanwhile, the silent clone looked at those who were gathering about in the main floor as things ramped up. It simply smiled and waved, but in its own mind the Dummy knew its job: Be a distraction. If they thought he was there and not fighting back, there was a chance someone would make the mistake that he wasn't willing to fight, and it'd be a perfect surprise to get bombed from above by exploding tree frogs.

"Mmmngymnmynmmmm" the Clone felt compelled to speak, but didn't possess the equipment to do so properly... But it stuck its thumb up, so... It had to be good and ready, right?

Kenshiro

Mentions: Anyone not coming to the basement. | Direct Dialogue: Anyone coming to the basement. | Location: ]Kari's House

Ken's hand was rising to his lips, hardly waiting for the group to gather before he sucked the noble liquor from the disposable cup, when the Recollection crashed like a wave across the attendents. He saw Kari, and his body reactively wept at the sight of her smile. The way she held Elsa... But she was talking to Lionel about 8th Street... He knew they'd been pestering her for some time, so he never missed a chance to give Emily G. Reed a hard time just like he had at the Festival. He thought maybe he could protect her...

And he was a fool. A fool who was too selfish to stick around and actually help her.

There was a bit about Sloane, but he hadn't realized they were speaking again. Typical. He didn't ever know much; he felt it straining their relationship more and more everytime he came back. She was less and less inclined to let him stick around for long periods, and more insistant that he get back on the road. He hated that, and the feeling like she was rejecting him, even when she apologized later and let him back. He understood, he always thought. He figured she was just stressed about all the things she could see, and he didn't blame her for the strong reactions.
But by that point in his thinking, the world was already coming back to each of them in full color. He felt the tears leaking down his face and the alcohol leaking down his chin as it had been emptied out into his mouth but never swallowed. It was pain again, and guilt. And anger directed at the same woman who thought it was nice and cool to kick down Kari's door.

But he wouldn't bother the group with his words or his fury. Those who were truly together had to stay that way, or they would die one by one in a slow, miserable pattern of weakest to strongest, most opportune to least. And if that dead Kari wasn't their Kari, then she wasn't really dead... But where the fuck was she?
Classic Linqian was yapping away; he hadn't even heard her laying into Sloane the way he wanted to, rather hearing his name specifically. He wiped the wasted alcohol off his face with his sleeve and nodded before making his way to her refridgerator. Opening the freezer compartment, Ken pulled a small wooden box out and popped it open. Within, a row of shimmering, frozen gold coins were laid in a half-cylinder case upon a velvet bed. The stack was about twenty coins deep, and he pulled a single one from the box before sliding it into his utility pack strapped to his waist. He thought about how she'd once used the thing so many times he had to upgrade her carrying case so she could keep more coins safely.

It was dishonorable to keep them laying out, and she seemed to respect whenever he gave her some strange snippit of culture. She was even good about adopting things like that. It was part of what he liked about her so much.
"Alright, alright. Come with me, and be sure to keep an ear out for Brother Drake. Some should stay up here."
And then he made way for the basement door. Some people had already meandered down, and he lightly thumped down the rickety wooden stairs until he was standing in the dusty haze of the basement. He looked at all the shelving units and workshopping spaces; places she used to be able to keep projects and different plot graphs for areas she was exploring or info she was gathering. There were different rooms in various states of finished and unfinished, mostly done with Ken's help as his trade in the Village had been carpenting.
He stepped up to what looked like some sort of filled-in dumbweight elevator door that had been painted over and sealed shut. It was big; probably the size of an old-school television, or one of those wall safes you'd see rich people having in the movies. As the assorted procession filed in behind him, he turned to face them.

"I don't suspect the Murasaki's ancient technique of Dark Drops to have been compromised by our enemies... But that doesn't mean I wouldn't recommend being on guard when I open this. My intuitions aren't what they used to be..."
He waited for everyone who was gathered to ready themselves as they saw fit... Then, with a smooth movement, Ken slipped the coin he'd grabbed into an inconspicuous gap between the plaster of the wall and the actual structure of the dumbweighter. At once, there was a burst of Purple Lux that formed hundreds of Kanji characters scrolling across the surface of the wall. With a slightly wet separating noise. the painted over door to the dumbweighter split in the middle, descending and ascending into slots in the wall.

There was a rush of air, and then it opened fully. Anyone who had traveled with Ken, somewhere between the realms in a place that skirted along the void, the great Master Kai had carved a path in the darkest forest. There, he hid many things, and kept weapons of war and peace. The Forest of Doors: A true Pocket-dimension. And here was a three foot cubed space of it juxtaposed into Kari's wall locked behind a secret door opened with some kind of secret mechanism. The pocket itself was full of possessions and nick-knacks that Kari thought were special.
And like clockwork, the grief-stricken Kenshiro let loose like a man who had truly lost a spouse. Bellowing through tears, his hands immediately reached into the space and started pulling out things to organize them on the table. He started with several hard-covered albums, and opening them would reveal a myriad of incredibly shaped and colored bird feathers. There were also half a dozen glass-topped boxes of the strangest kind of stones and jewels, some luminescent under their own power while others shone in colors that shouldn't exist in the Shimmer. Small albums of picures and drawings that Kari and Ken had shared while she experienced travels of her own.

And pictures of the Coven. Happy and sad days. Memories.
There was also a box labled "Lisa" which contained some of her own personal belongings as well as a diary; probably some kind of safety deposit box agreement. Ken loved how thoughtful Kari could be about her friends...

But panic quickly joined Kenshiro's sniffling. His arms moved away the little privacy cloths, looking around the space thoroughly and at one point hanging his entire body into the hole.
"No... No! NO!-" Ken finally grunted out, pulling himself away from the pocket dimension. "-Her notes! Her notebooks! None of them are here, and the seal wasn't tampered with, there were no breaks in the scripture: Nothing! And her... Her fucking books aren't-"
In a fit of rage, Kenshiro's fist hauled back and drove itself through the drywall above the door. When he did so, the pocket dimension began to flicker in and out of existence until all that remained was a smooth, blank wall behind false doors. His hand pulling out of the wall caused half a dozen of those same coins to fall from the spot he punched.
"-there... The books weren't fucking in there..."

Ken's hands came up and gripped at his head. Reeling, he spun and dropped his hands to the table, staring at the hundreds of little bits of otherworldly materials he'd brought back for Kari to catalogue and retrace whenever she wanted. Like her own exploratory atlas. His legs gave out, and on his knees he once again wept in opposition to being helpful. Frankly, he didn't feel helpful. He felt lost and in agony, and he wanted to make it the problem of those who'd done this, but he had no way of directing such aggression.

It was all just pain and loneliness again.
"Fuck!"

Kenshiro

Mentions: Too many people to be breaking into one house. | Direct Dialogue: Amara King/@Blizz, Clancy Patrick/@Zombiedude101, Sully McPherson/@Atrophy, Aislin Rose/@Estylwen | Location: ]Kari's House

They kicked her door in... Sloane... Kicked Kari's house's door in. Ken's mind reeled as he did his best to hold back wrath and pain. He wasn't known for being a loose cannon when it came to his family; they received the most tender version of himself that Kenshiro could possibly project, even in moments like this. He looked from person to person, watching the dogpile slowly start to form at Sloane's feet, and thought about how badly he wanted to join in. How badly he wanted to be rude like her, and make a mess that someone else had to clean up, like the door he knew he'd be fixing himself...
Well, maybe he wouldn't. Stormy was a professor, but he'd never been afraid to get his hands dirty. Frankly, looking around, he figured he could probably trust just about anyone around to at least give him a cursory hand in one way or another.
Remember your happy place. You have no right to be upset. You gave that up... Let it go now.

And then a young man appearead at the door of Kari's house like he lived there. Ken didn't recognize this boy, he didn't know this boy, and frankly the thought of him crawling around in the house while he'd patiently waited on the roof like a half way polite person made Ken's skin crawl with discomfort.
He walked forward, elevating his hand with a finger outstretched.
"No! No, no, I won't stand for this now! Who... What... Why!? Can't we ever get fucking organized? It's just like making plans! Just like it, I make sure I come back for a certain date, I syncronize my cronometer between the two dimensions, I get home on time to texts telling me that things are canceled like Verizon exists in the Kingdom of Molaran?"
Ken's frustrated voice cut the air across the yard as different members began making themselves somewhat at home. At this point, he was almost certain that neighbors or someone would have half a mind to call the police, and he didn't have the mental fortitude in the current moment to reign it in any longer.

"Sully!? Put the fucking cup away, my friend! Did you not have a dream the other night where a girl took it from a pedestal? And then, coincidentally, you got it stolen at the Festival? It's bad enough there's so many of us fucking here!"
He was accutely aware of other people still bumping and chafing against one another, but he heard Amara say his name from the corner of his attention.
"If there was something off about Kari, where would she have evidence of that sort of thing?"
He turned his head and body with confusion, his glowing purple hands plucking the door from the floor as he did his best to tidy the place up.
"Whatever she would've been working on is either...-" Ken paused, trailing off for a moment before shaking his head.
"-Y'know, I don't fucking know to be honest with you. I wish I did. Really! I..."

Ken's face turned sour, and the tears began to roll from his eyes in a more full bodied fashion.
"God Damn it all... Y'know, forget I fucking said anything, Sully, please can I have a fucking drink? A drink, a drink! When have I ever wanted a fucking drink!?"
The sullen warrior tucked the door back into its frame, clicking it closed so at least the neighbors wouldn't see the broken door if they looked out. Before it was even situated, his back was turned and he was walking toward the patio, looking between Sully and Aislin with red, teary eyes.
"Sorry, sorry... About what I said. It's still nice to see you all; and you Aislin. I... I think Kari maybe would've thought this was funny at some point."
He looked through the gathering now, finding the face of Evelynn Serenelight, and he wondered instantly if she was feeling the same pain and frustration he was. Or if she even felt anything for Kari anymore. He remembered being close with her; close enough to figure out he liked Kari just a bit more. But he never thought anything would come from it. Now he felt the knot of mourning sickness in his stomach and he wanted to burst at the seams.

Fully equipped, he pulled a small cantine from his belt and unscrewed the cap before holding it up to Sully to fill.
"Amara...?-" he turned back to face Amara again. "-Her... Her delicates drawer. She usually kept the important notebooks in there." he closed his eyes, shaking his head. "There's no way I'm looking through them."
He cleared his throat as he turned his attention back to Sully and Aislin.
"That was... A joke." he continued, a dry smile cracking thin across his face. He shook his head, waving her to join them. He looked out toward Lynn, seeing the usual suspects alongside her. He waved for them to come too.
"My Second Clan? Come on, everyone, gather who will for a shot in Kari's memory... And PLEASE stop ransacking her house, because you won't find what you're looking for in any drawer or couch. Kari kept her most private things in a place so safe I'd bet my own life on it."

If only his first clan could prove that statement correct...
"Because I trust locks! And keys that lock the locks! I'm dead serious, Sully, pour the Sake for everyone... Because this isn't just for Kari. This is for Lyss, and Ashley, and for Kali and Jade and Jinhai... No more lost... Please?"
Ken had never been that loud in the old days. Where he came from, one didn't open themselves up like that, to be loud or emotional unless it was anger. But even though he'd felt those emotions, he couldn't let them overpower the love he had for the family he was with now.
"And quick, because the Old Bat across the street is a nosey hag, and if she saw us piling in here, she's gonna call the fucking cops!"
Ken looked at Amara with a smirk on his face.
"Do I know where she keeps her stuff... Up until a few years ago the panty drawer wasn't a joke. But I hooked her up. It took a few days and a lot of raw material, but I got it right eventually. Come on! Gather around and take a shot, then its off to the Basement we go!" Ken called to everyone.
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