Edict should watch his back. Tayla's coming for his head.
I can't wait to see where this storyline goes; if she ends up paranoid enough that she takes him out before ever thinking that he's not really got any weight behind his words.
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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!
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
I can't wait to see where this storyline goes; if she ends up paranoid enough that she takes him out before ever thinking that he's not really got any weight behind his words.
Edict
Mentions: The Whole Damn Lot. Direct Dialogue: Linqian Han@FernStone, Tayla Choi@silvermist1116 Location: His Inferno, His Happy Place (The Burning Church)
As he'd previously demonstrated, cutting access to his senses in order to benefit himself ended up being something well within the purview of his abilities. Resetting the Power Words that were blasted off him by the taser, he implemented weaker versions to maintain cognizance while dulling the pain in his eyes, ass and hands to a dull ache. From there, it was a matter of maintaining a level head. Listening, not speaking. Hearing what the Agents were saying and what his contemporaries were barking back. But he had to be ready for what was coming; or what he thought was coming. The worst pinch imaginable, and with Father Wolf no closer to being found.
Obligations left unfulfilled.
Edict breathed deeply, in and out on manual piloting, and a smile cracked across his face as he looked through bleary eyes at those agents around them. He wanted to memorize faces, remember who to have killed in a "fucking car accident". Yes, with the Fucking. He wanted to brain lance one of them out of sheer principle. How were they going to prove which animal among the gaggle was the one who pulled the trigger that melted their buddy's brain into neuron soup? And who was the rat? Linqian? Nah, come on. That personality is not pro-snitch. Think harder. Kali wasn't here, capiche? It's raw as is, no need for complication.
But he had been driven to anger toward them. He said he'd try to leave the logging for the Loggers, but his mind constantly crossed back to how he wanted to feel the axe in his own two hands. The sensation of the chopping, the feeling of the wood shearing and flying back up to hit you in the face. The blood...
There was a familiar voice among the agents. He was trying to put some kind of a name to it. Something with a B that reminded him of banana... Syllables? His half stoned mind drifted for a moment as names with a B became a fond image of Britney in a silver dress in the middle of a fancy Portland restaurant. Her smile, her hair. But, it was two syllables, and he pulled himself back to the number three, which only further muddled the mind as he regressed back to the pressing matter. He'd probably have to release himself and live in the pain if he wanted to get any clear thinking done. It was a choice now; release it all and do his job? Or sit in silence and bliss until it was all over?
"Which one of you killed Agent Mahendra..."
Son of a bitch!? Alright, alright.
Edict braced up hard, taking a last few manual breaths before he clipped the ends of his Power Words and stamped a big fat CANCEL across his mind. All at once, the new Command Line was cleared. All at once the sensation of having so much of the residue still in and around his eyes caused his teeth and bloody, glass filled hands to clench shut. The digging glass only made things worse, and he wriggled his legs in great discomfort for a moment as he tried to adjust to the pain.
"He was found stabbed to death in a Dairy Queen parking lot within two hours of the chaos you all wrought on the city!"
Those fucking geeks seriously went to Dairy Queen? Christ on a bike...
It was something of a boon that he was so wrapped up in his pain; denying him the chance to make foolish comments to the federal agents who were trying to put them away... But he knew this wasn't his wrap now at least. Besides the minor intrusion the night before, they'd had no physical contact or any real reason to suspect Edict would have him killed. Things left off fine enough between the two of them, despite Edict's complicated feelings toward the guy. It was a relief that he was gone, in a sense. That miserable kind of void staring back at him feeling was gone, and he imagined smoother sailing from here on.
If they don't try to pin it on me anyway, at least.
Linqian was working for her money at least.
"If anyone did it, it was Everleigh. She was pretty close to shooting him yesterday!"
Edict smiled through the pain. His prints were on the gun too... Fuck it. Let'em try. Frankly if they weren't dogpiling him into a wagon already, they already knew who did it, and they're just looking for rat witnesses.
“I mean just look who we have within our midst,”
Edict happened to look in her general direction, realizing that of all people, prissy Evelynn Serenelight was throwing shade his way. He kept his mouth shut, mostly because he knew if he said anything, people would know he was in pain. And he was starting to figure out that it was more than what he thought: A hot, shooting pain climbed from his left wrist to his elbow in a fracture that he probably got from either going through the window or hitting the ground below. The numb limp limbs still reacted in some fashion, tossing themselves out in front of him as he made impact, and from there he probably just fucked it up.
Tayla Choi was here too... He wondered if she got a full blast from his abilities earlier, as it would've resulted in a far more vivid and real-time experience without taking up any extra time. Simply more potent visual perception, but he knew what it was like from watching movies inside his own head on plane flights.
The previous day, he'd considered trying to flip her by using his abilities, but he decided against it ultimately, and didn't think she was a source he wanted to pull from. The cursory onceover he pulled from his stunt yesterday told him a story he didn't want to participate in. It was a twisted empathy that he passed off as the better option, patting himself on the back for not playing into an Addict's nature. Not like he wouldn't do the exact same thing back home to some other unfortunate individual.
Void-Hoppin' Jack interrupted the pow-wow in typical style; out of nowhere and abruptly, and holding another body that Edict couldn't recognize through his hazy vision.
"... A strange Wolf Idol was found by his body."
Alright cutie, keep talking. Keep making bad decisions...
Then the interruption. Before she could give up much more, Auri Auclair's name got brought up.
That's the figure!
Auri, limp in Jack's arms. What the fuck happened? Was she dead too? There was a long exchange that kind of got covered up in the chaos, a few of the agents talked back and forth before Edict heard the magic words.
"... Uncuff them, we're letting them go. Except for her, she is coming with us."
Edict had just about regained his sight by the time they got around to uncuffing him, and having the pressure release on his wrist felt fantastic. He almost thought he could skip seeing some kind of healer, but it was a reason to visit Elodie uptown and healing a hair fracture could still cause complications later on. Better to get it touched up by a friendly face than stick around.
Standing, he dignified himself by wiping the dust off himself as best he could before looking back at the fire he started. Leon mentioned that Auri had recently come into the ownership of the building...
Go fuck yourself.
It was a schmooze fest after that, but he wasn't content with sticking around with how many Feds there actually were lingering around. He looked around for Leon, and realized the Big Guy was still sleeping. Even after one of the Agents uncuffed him, Leon was still a near seven foot long lump of shit on the ground. He was unmoving, unflinching, and Edict couldn't help but think about how he could sleep so fucking soundly... Here of all places.
Looking around a bit more, he saw Sloane cozying up to the leader of this ragtag group of magical Feds, which made him sick with hate again. He hated to see any sort of cooperation, and made a mental note of her liability as he tried to step closer to Linqian. Finally, the man guilty for burning the entire church down opened his mouth to speak directly to her. By happenstance, Tayla Choi was also there.
"And maybe a drink? There's a place down by the docks if you want to get outta here."
"Someone mention a drink I could use?"- he asked, popping up almost between them. "-Tayla, nice to see you. Linqian, listen, Leon brought you a car. His goons are still over there waiting to hand you the keys. I can take you over there, and this is obviously code for please can we fucking leave the place with all the Pinkertons? I mean, the car is waiting that parts real but like, fuck. No bueno."
He noticed the cigarette she was trying to smoke, and that it was a shit one again. He pulled his hard case out and popped it open to offer up a couple decent ones, and to Tayla as well.
So much for keeping away from the poor woman.
The relations look awesome, Blizz and Nori. :)
And can I just say what a thrill it was to work on this most recent collab with Ghost, Blizz and Atomic? One of the best collaborations I've had the pleasure of working on in the past 10 years.
Here's to more.
Thank you for your own wonderful contribution, and to you for giving us something to fight over. :D
Leon and Edict
Mentions: The Whole Damn Crew | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: Reclaimed Church Raid
They were fresh in his mind. Something about the mixing of smells was just so visceral that it almost paralyzed Leon. They weren't local scents: He figured after taking the time to sit in that parking lot before trying to rescue Alizee would let him be familiar with them all. He could smell Everleigh, Britney, Linqian; easy picks after he'd been in the car with them. But, Brit wasn't there? Stormy too... But, new people who werent there threw his nose off, and now other smells. He stood at the bay window near the entrance like a scene from an alien movie; the main character is nervous to look out the window and see the horrifying creature staring back, yet compelled to it as if the curiosity couldn't be prevented. So close... The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, curling Leon's stomach as his nose worked overtime trying to square up with what his ears were hearing.
Shuffling, clicking and clacking of metal. Preparation. He could almost see a shadow against the blinds of the window as Nakala readied the launcher. Then, everything froze. For what seemed like an eternity to Leon, he had the chance to consider that life was a truly funny thing. Edict had just gotten done accusing him of being a federal agent, and now... Now he heard the shuffling of boots scaling the outside wall, the rustling and shuffling of firearms and bullet proof vests, the telltale hiss that a gasmask gave off as you pulled the tab for the filter to start cleaning the air.
It's a fucking raid!
And it was far too late for the revelation. His body tensed as he heard the slow sound of a trigger being pulled. Again, that grinding metal noise as the action pulled forward and drove the firing pin into the primer of whatever casing was in the barrel. It sounded heavy to Leon, probably not a rifle or some other small arm.
All Lady Lelou could do in her own infinitely slower perception of time was scream and writhe in her tiny padded cell within Leon. But his minds eye, shared between the two of them, gave her a constant option to accaust him within micromoments.
"UNLEASH ME OR DIE!"
He didn't really argue with her. Not as the moments passed by and the light of the explosion coming from outside began to bow the window in toward him. With the half a second he had left, he began the process of letting the seals loosen up for the process of potentially regenerating a great deal of flesh and tissue in case this thing hit him in the face...
Which, it did. As the tear gas canister slammed its way through the window, the trajectory put it in a direct pathway toward Leon's dumb neanderthal forehead. The sound of the knock against the bone cavity was like a drum that punctuated the PRA's door kicking activities. The canister, having bounced off Leon's slanted plate of a skull, completely changed direction as it spiraled up toward the ceiling. It bounced off a rafter, hitting some hanging cloth tapestry which clung to it and forced a near vertical drop. As it clattered to the floor, the canister split slightly, causing pressure to force a second stream of the gas out into the room for a thicker blanketed fog.
Leon, unable to draw forth from Lelou's strength in time, blacked out as his brain rattled harder than any man had ever managed to punch him. For a short moment, pure willpower kept him from falling over flat as he tried his damnedest to force the primary transformation... But it wasn't to be. Like a castle wall crumbling from underneath itself, Leon's legs gave out and he hit the floor like a bag full of sand.
Edict was fuming from the interaction outside. Leon had basically bowled over him, the prick, and now here he was at a meeting he didn't even want to attend in the first place. What was having a network of spies for if he still had to attend these fucking meetings? And now he was buzzing in with those Temple stiffs, no better than Federal behavior as far as he was concerned. Even if he was telling the truth, it was a truth he didn't want to hear about or listen to. Big fucker! Edict smoothed his waistband where the holster of his gun was, trying to calm down as he scanned across the large room.
He immediately spotted Linqian, who was looking haggard and pissy as usual... But he knew what she was really feeling. It probably wasn't good: Since Leon and he were both supposed to walk back to her new legitimate car, he figured he'd offer her another bump. Hell, maybe try to get a night out of it for himself, reroute them back to his place as opposed to her going home to be crabby about her brothers and her small life. Vague guilt crept into his heart, and on instinct he hunted around for Britney, who he didn't see. Nothing to be worried about...
Anya Baksh addressed Leon and him, and while Edict couldn't keep his eye of the Big Guy staring at the windows, he was a bit elated to see another Pink Adept. The connection was rare for him, but the Mistress of Dreams had popped into his own dreams on a rare occasion, always somewhat untouchable. He smiled at her and waved, making sure he kept his sunglasses held up on his forehead by way of his hat.
"Good to see you again, Sis. Did you ever get that email I sent about the uh... The whole 'psychic ba-"
The window smashed as Edict was staring at it. Wholesale, it exploded, shattered, and a metal canister the size of a soda can drove itself so hard against Leon's head that Edict audibly echoed a groan of sympathy toward the Jolly Giant before he crumbled to the floor like a wet paper mache house. His eyes trailed up with the canister as it spewed a colorless mist up toward the ceiling and spattered across the wood and cloth of the upper rafters. Its clamorous fall and subsequent smash off the hard tile floor of the aisle busted the thin metal shell open in a second place, causing more gas than necessary to spew from its guts.
Edict was standing pretty much in range of it when it hit the floor, passing over his eyes and face to almost instantly blind him and force him to his knees with a lack of oxygen. Thankfully, by the time he hit the floor, the little thing was spewing in a different direction than his face, because it probably would've instantly blinded him for good. As he hit the floor, the sunglasses on his forehead slumped down onto his eyes. He instantly began channeling upon himself, focusing several Power Words at once to bolster his mind and block out the neurological receptors to pain.
His Emotional Field collapsed in on itself several times, each time etching a different portion of the Command String until he was running on just about nothing. He could only vaguely see shapes, but he kept a crystal clear image of the last thing he saw before the door came off its hinges, and he didn't like it. Body armor, guns... His tendrils reached out in real time, no longer caring about who or what he was knocking on. He was looking for friendlies, any clearly recognizable Emotional Fields he could feel. The many tendrils of the Lotus' roots acted as connectors to each and every one who he recognized as a Coven member.
He'd learned a bit of a technique to broadcast subliminal messaging: It worked much better against those without Emotional Fields, but even here he knew the effect would be strong enough that he'd be able to use it as a budget form of telepathy.
Across each and every Coven member, new or old, a set of images were broadcast into their minds. They played out like a moving picture book as the signals scattered across the Fields.
A pink lotus burst forth, with the word "SCATTER" painted across its surface in thick, densely burning flames that quickly consumed the message and left them with one last image: Edict's own point of view, the last things he saw before things went down. The canister hitting Leon's head, flying up into the rafters, hitting the floor... And then something else. The blurry vision of Edict's one hand lashing out and grabbing the canister. The other swipes a lit cigarette lighter through the thick foggy gas on the floor, while the canister flies from his grip up toward the ceiling.
A violent fireball followed the tear gas, and Edict's illusion broke when he had to refocus himself and make for a senseless sprint toward where he remembered the last window was. He couldn't see, he couldn't smell, and he couldn't breathe: But he couldn't feel any of it. Once he got some fresh air, most of the problems would be manageable, and he'd be able to hit the ground running... All it took was the bomb to give him the chance. He sprinted his numb body toward the edge of the room and smashed himself through the pane of glass full send. Somewhere in the middle of that, the fireball trailing up toward the canister hanging in the middle of the air finally met its own source, and the canister itself exploded into an even bigger and more caustic ball of flames that ate into the spray from before.
The hanging cloth ignited in a magnificent pattern that happily consumed the old wood rafter beams like a hungry termite demon. Cobwebs, dust of twenty years that the previous owners neglected to clean, errant insulation sticking through the shoddy wood slats: Each little component caught ablaze like tinder in the flame. Within an instant, the entire roof of the church was ablaze with fires that danced across old wood beams and crawled into the walls above.
Edict wasn't there for that. He only hoped that anyone else able to take advantage of the distraction did the same thing he did and followed his advice. Still, his Command String of Power Words kept him practically blind and numb. He hit the ground outside hard, hair and clothes covered in glass shards and broken wood. He pushed up off the ground into a pile of glass, ripping his numb hands apart without a care as he sprinted toward what looked to his limited sight like a clear opening. There was a dumpster or something to his left, so he tried to avoid it and slipped right.
Next thing he knew, he felt hot lightning in his right ass cheek as two darts zipped through his jeans and made purchase in flesh. Fifty thousand volts of electricity pumped his nervous system and utterly shattered his Command Line. All of a sudden, all the pain rushed back and he hit the ground in a heap.
"Oh, motherfucker! Fucking fucks! Fucking fucking fuck fuck FUCK"
Edict's body instinctively curled into the fetal position like a cooked shrimp as his eyes once more burned from the residual chemicals.
In that moment, he hated every single member of the Sycamore Tree Coven. Every single one of them deserved what was about to happen next, whether they were the rat who sold them out or some freak on a different cult's leash. He thought about the picture that hung over the desk of his office. "Lumber Day". A vast Sycamore tree being chopped down at the base, countless axes burried in its trunk. He wasn't here to get hit like this... And Leon had been the one who convinced him to come today. Convenient, but... He remembered that Kali hadn't been there as he tried to take deep breaths.
He felt hands on his wrists and a boot in his back. So much for the great escape... Wrong fucking window.
Two more Temple members for some SHENNANIGANS!
Leon and Edict
Mentions: Linqian Han, Britney Williams | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals (Pre-Meetup) > Reclaimed Church Meeting
He pulled up to the front door, pulling the emergency break and putting the thing in park. He left it idling in the assumption that things here wouldn't be long, but as he got out and was approached by one of the rogue youths, he was pleasently surprised.
"I'll park it for you, Sir."
Sir? Edict instantly grinned, his emotion seeking tendrils instantly blossoming the pink lotus as he hoped to catch a bite of mundane prey. Instantly he remembered why he didn't come here: The young man's shimmering Emotional Field was tight and smooth, like a fresh wrap on a car fender. Nary a flaw nor weak entryway could be found, but the smile and the stare hung a little too long, and Edict cleared his throat before nodding.
"Well, that's just great isn't it? Church with a valet?"
Edict waved his hand forward, ushering the teen into his car before shaking his head out of sight and heading up toward the chapel steps. A middle aged man, dressed in all black like everyone around seemed to be, was waiting in the path by the time he looked up.
"Devola, I presume?" his voice struck Edict with a sense of de ja vu that he had to think about for an instant. He... He sounded like his Father. The accent.
"Yeah, here for Leon Richoux. Problem?" Edict replied, trying his best to mimic the accent subtly, without it sounding unnatural. Like he had grown up there his whole life even though he'd only rarely visited New York.
"Yeah, maybe. You gonna keep your hands to yourself? We know you around here; your name is in our Book... And you're rippling. Capiche?"
Rippling? The fuck does that mean? Edict half cocked a smile and nodded his head.
"Hey, listen... I'm just here to talk with Leon, we're supposed to be doing this thing y'know, maybe you ain't hear about people dyin' and shit?"
The man's face went from disinterested to confrontational in an instant.
"Oh, we know the Death around here Bambi. I ain't on about that, balls-in-hand. I just told you I felt you using your powers here on Temple ground. You're like a fucking loudspeaker, you and that pink saccharin shit. Stow it."
Edict bit up on his bottom lip slightly, letting air pass through in a small squeak as he made it a point to give the man a staredown. He was in their house, and if he'd learned anything in his years of business, it was that you acquiesce while in the territory of foreign powers. He was the stranger here, even if he was a "family friend".
"Alright, you have my word, and my apologies."
The man guarding the Temple steps took a deep breath, nodded, and finally stepped aside to let Edict into the building. It' have to be more subtle in the future; he just hadn't expected some detector to be sniffing the front of the building. Fucking rat. But Edict continued on into the chapel with a smile regardless. He was hopefully going to see that faint memory of a woman while he was here, and even if he didn't it was nice to catch up with Leon. He genuinely liked the guy despite how ecclectic he was: They had matching tastes for life. The desire to be, and to fulfill expectations of one's surrounding characters, connected their motivations in a way that a lot of other things couldn't. Or maybe Edict was just starstruck... He'd idolized boxers as a kid, and he loved seeing Leon's father Gravity at his own gym. He wasn't allowed in at that age, so he would just sit and watch from the windows outside. A real nostalgic thought for Edict to chew on as he looked around the room.
There was a lady there with blonde hair and black robes. She was presiding over some younger teens; it looked like a sunday school lecture that broke off into the middle of the week, but he assumed it was quite literally a school session. Amazing what you're allowed to homeschool these days. He heard her bubbly voice and listened in for a moment, immediately being transported to easier days. Before the awakening and the snake, the Coven that pushed him away, before he knew what a gangster was or that his father was a complicated man.
A massive man broke his concentration, and Edict's head spun toward Leon's towering stature.
"Woah, tall dark and beefy! There he is, the man of orange and gold himself... How's shit Leon?"
Leon, who had been sleeping here at the Temple since the whole Father Wolf business started, was fresh from the shower with a full meal to go in his hand. Breakfast was a cholesterol bomb, heavy in animal fat and carbohydrates to ensure that he had plenty of energy to burn. A pound of rice, six porterhouse steaks sliced into strips, four avocados, a bag of plums and a massive water bottle full of Lord knows what rested in Leon's massive hands.
"It's bulking season, so... Just eating my days away."
"Don't give me that. You need it to fight now, what's the problem?"
Leon laughed and shook his head, thinking about the current situation and what would have to be done next to insure that people stayed honest and fair. They were in a delicate world now, and he'd given up surefire strength in the interest of the greater good. Now he was an unreliable bombshell who had to compensate like this, and it was clear to others who observed him. No doubt about it, he couldn't even eat around the others. Everything they'd had was dead, and he was ready for them to go back to wherever the fuck they came from before things in St. Portwell got worse.
"Y'know a few people died last night, right?"
Edict feigned surprise, his head tilting and mouth opening in sad shock.
"What!? What happened, Leon?"
Leon couldn't prove it, but he knew that this guy never didn't know what was up. Even in cities that he had nothing to do with, he always seemed to have some sort of gossip or advice that a local would have: Three years prior, Leon had been in Romania to fight some Baltic boxers in a charity thing, and who was there but Edict Devola, world traveler and supposed clean businessman.
"Don't bullshit me and I won't bullshit you, Devola, we're not kids."
Edict waved a hand, finally standing and patting Leon on the bicep.
"I have no clue what you mean, Leon. Whose dead, what happened?"
Leon gritted his teeth behind closed lips, a deep breath of air pulling through his enormous lungs. Finally he shook his head and looked across the chapel toward the blonde woman teaching her heart out.
"Clarissa?"
She stopped instantly, looking up.
"Yes Leon?"
"It's time to go."
Leon's hands were tied, but he very clearly indicated the door with his eyes and head. The woman responded quickly, wrapping things up to the chagrin of her pupils before she made her way past them and out the door. Edict looked confused.
"I'm in a two seater, so..."
"You thought you were driving? I can barely fit in sports cars, you think I'm gonna bring my breakfast into a cab I can barely sit in? We gotta bring Linqian a new vehicle anyway, so we'll just go over in that."
"Oh you, me and your wet nurse?"
Leon laughed in Edict's face.
"That wet nurse would invert you in an instant."
"I'd let her invert something of mine, that's for sure."
Edict smiled, satisfied with his crude joke until he looked up at Leon with that same grin and saw a mountain ogre staring back at him with intent. His face said it was a joke, but he didn't verbalize for fear of pushing Leon over the hill. The same expression ushered Edict out of the building and back down the steps. The same middle aged guy from before was waiting, and handed Edict his keys once they were close enough. A new Toyota sedan pulled up front, allowing the four people to pile into it before they started to drive off back into St. Portwell.
While Leon and Edict were being driven toward the meetup location, the fill-in conversation took place. Edict was actually shocked at the amount of nothing Leon managed to experience in his time trying to save that chick, but it was at least interesting to hear the tale now from two different perspectives. Leon had a bit more information about the state of things at least: That St. Portwell had once again become something of a nexus of Adepts and magical beings from beyond the Third Eye. Leon himself, between massive bites of rice and steak, admitted that his Mother had been keeping a very close eye on the burgeoning covens of St. Portwell as they developed, and had been working on resource managing for some plants to be inserted among them. He always said things without thinking around Edict, despite knowing full well that it was dangerous to do so... But the way Leon saw it was that Edict would know sooner or later, and if they could symbiotically assist one another he wanted that arrangement available as long as possible.
Leon managed to eat the entire tower of tupperware bowls. He and the man in the front seat, who Edict came to know as a man called Furio, joked around a bit about something that Edict had no clue about. Some sort of Apparition, he gathered, but they kept referring to it in the same way he'd heard "friends" be referred to before they were whacked. For a moment he was beyond uncomfortable, feeling the end of a Mobster's life playing out before him. They pulled into the park's lot and saw the myriad of cars from different Coven members up and down the block, and Leon recognized Britney's car from the night before. As they exited the vehicle, another car pulled up alongside them with one more Temple member in it, whom Edict assumed was the ride home for the other two and, possibly, them when everything was over. Edict was still dressed like a hipster, and had managed the beanie hat at some point between meeting Linqian and arriving at the Temple. Leon was wearing generic clothing, assuming that the niceties were over and that war could be around any corner in the city.
"You uh... Strapped?" Leon looked down at Edict, the thought of defending themselves crossing his mind.
Edict heard the question, but wasn't sure about where it was coming from.
"Huh? Strapped?"
Edict's sunglasses flipped down onto the bridge of his nose, blocking out the pale Autumn sunlight. He flashed a sly grin at Leon. "Why you gotta know if I have a gun or not?"
"We should be ready to protect ourselves, Edict."
Oh, it was business... Edict knew the difference in tone and intent in the usage of a different name. He recognized and reciprocated.
"Yes, Timberwolf. I am strapped as you say. Why, are we expecting things to go south again?"
"I don't know, Man, it could! I have no fucking clue after last night's shitshow, but I don't want us getting caught off guard like that ever again."
Edict put his hands in the air just enough to ward him off. The two men crossed the street, Edict checking his phone for any updates as Leon turned his head and spoke into his sleeve.
"Test, test, test."
"Clear."
Edict heard, and didn't react. It was a backup team... Leon wasn't playing around. He stowed his phone, and the two of them made for the path through the park toward the pagoda they were supposed to meet at. When they got there, only signs of what had been remained. Leon ground his teeth; he'd made them late. Without hesitation, he began the slow process of opening his seals before Edict patted his chest and interrupted him.
"Hey, here. Shoeprints in the grass heading off toward Aleo. A group that big can't move without some kind of trace."
Leon nodded, smiling slightly at the man's aptitude. He sauntered behind the bloodhound like man as Edict stared at the ground. So many footprints, and the hum of auras compiling into a big warm beacon for a moth to clamber toward. Those paying attention could probably feel Edict's tendrils trying to search them out before they could even come close to seeing him, the slithering pink oozing its way between alleys and fences. He took a deep breath, smiling as his feet locked him into a path headed for the fun. It was another few minutes before they got to the metal gate, but by then Leon knew where they were going as well.
"What in the Hell..."
"What?" Edict was genuinely curious about a reaction like that.
"Not sure what we're doing over here. It's supposed to be like, an abandoned Church. Recently abandoned too... Fuck, Auri! We're adults, we don't need to be hanging out on bank owned property without permission!"
Edict kept his mouth shut, shaking his head. That girl was all hot air and no lift. The two of them continued together down the road until the Church's front doors were visible. From the distance, Leon could see familiar white hair shuffling about at the door. His jaw dropped when he saw the violet portal opening up and she stepped into it.
"Furio, VL on the move. Probable Purple influence."
Leon didn't even bother covering for the radio call. Nor did he care if Edict knew he was bugged at this point.
"Shit, Leon are you a fucking Fed?"
Edict stopped in his tracks, his hand lashing out and grabbing Leon's forearm. His free hand instinctively reached for his gun, but Leon pulled away.
"Fed? Federal Agent? No, you fucking Goombah, it's for the Temple! You think they're not going to help us get out of this mess?"
Edict was incredulous, but let go of the man's arm at the fear that a few rounds of 10mm may not actually put the giant down before he could rearrange Edict's face.
"So, what?"
"Come on, lets just go. We need to see what's going on, I need to-"
Leon pushed ahead, breaking off into a jog that Edict had to run to keep up with. Fucking giraffe legs.
Of course the wolfman hit the door first, swinging it open to find the gathering spread out among the pews of the church. Oddly familiar setting compared to where he had come from. Edict was hot on his heels, following in behind in a huff as Leon pushed into the room.
"Who the Hell is teleporting around here!?" he barked, pretty much interrupting everything he could.
Leon and Lynette
Mentions: Linqian Han, Britney Williams, Everleigh Thorne, Alizee Altiere | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals
"You're both entitled to your own actions, and I pray they are justified by good fortune. As for poor Alizee, she'll be interred beneath the soil as all of our adherents are. The ceremony will be three days from now, and while I expect that the three of you ladies will have no interest in attending, you're all welcomed. The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals maintains a revolving door policy for all recognized Teeoh.-"
She paused for a second, seeing flashes of confusion.
"-Third Eye Open... Tee, E, Oh. Teeoh."
Leon didn't exactly know how she was feeling until she did that. That jeering little sarcastic explanation. Like they needed it, they were adults who could figure out what she meant or ignore her like he knew they wanted to. The body language, the snarky remarks about not needing their help. Leon stuck his hand in front of his mother, backing her off as her face turned from stoic regality to vague indignance.
"They're grown women, Ma... And they don't want to hear it, I don't think."
His arm pushed her back a bit further, and while the look of indignance toward her son remained, Lynette followed his motion and backed off. It gave Leon time to change his body language, turning intentionally to disclude the three Sycamore Tree members from any further interaction. His face looked up at Britney and a half-formed smile crawled across it.
"Thanks for the ride... And I'm sorry things got so fucked up. But, I think we're all tired. Cooler heads will prevail a different day, and we can talk about compensating whoever needs it without... All this." Leon finished by waving his hand about the creepy grandiosity of the Temple, the book, and the dozen or so people who were simply crowded around them staring at the proceedings. It was all unnecessary business that once again was ruined by his association with his family. As if he had to be ashamed for their practices and personal life any time someone was around.
Leon couldn't deny that it gave a bad image. America was full of cynical people; even ones who abjectly knew that the supernatural existed. He always assumed that if evidence was placed in front of an individual, they'd instantly accept reality. Ergo, if all of this crazy bullshit exists, of course God exists. And, of course he'd speak through a Channeler of his own.
The thought alone frustrated him beyond the point of talking, and he shook his head.
"Now, drive safe Ladies. Father Wolf's still out there..."
And in a final flourish, he turned his back on them. As if in lockstep, the various cult members shifted in practical unison. Each and every body turned a hundred and eighty degrees from where they'd been, and a low din of conversational French began to fill the room in a way that was clearly blocking these accepted outsiders from further interaction. Leon still kept an arm around his mother, and while they walked away the two began to argue in very serious tones despite the language barrier now present. It more or less filled in the dead air, even as they descended the stairs behind the pulpit and disappeared from view altogether. Linqian, Britney and Eve weren't just free to go: Rather, it's as if they weren't even there to begin with.
Leon and Lynette
Mentions: Linqian Han, Britney Williams, Everleigh Thorne, Alizee Altiere | Location: St. Portwell, Oregon: The Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals
Personal investigation' before she... you know.
Leon spun in his seat trying to figure it all out when it was really just so simple. It all snapped into place, like he could hear his Father's voice in his head. She was just stressed... Just like everyone else, she was probably tense about what was going on. And, now that the concentration in the city was rising again, blowing off a little steam like she'd been known to before. Like him, she probably just wanted things to bottom out so that they could figure out just what the fuck was going on. It was all dumb. Poor Alizee had died over recklessness and complacency, and there was nothing he could do to bring her smile back. Another person taken from him, only this time it was a complete clusterfucking crossfire.
His massive hand climbed up to rub his chin as Leon turned his body.
"Personal investigation, I get. That's why I didn't bother going to Auri's little pow-wow; I had my own ideas about this Father Wolf from the jump."
She came, Then left soon as Kali said he was a fed. It was a whole thing. Eve here nearly shot him.
Leon turned a bit more to make sure his body language included her in the conversation. Any input at this point was better than none, and if she'd seen what happened there he was all ears.
I assume she went to Veni Vedi because Auri said she found a lead there.
Fair, he nodded along as she continued about what had happened thinking about the conversations the two of them had about possibilities prior to the big meeting.
Knowing Alizée she went in there causing a scene. Kinda her fault she died.
Alright, again fair but uncalled for. Leon bit his tongue to hold in the gut reaction, but he couldn't stop a scowl from spreading across his face as Linqian approached him and began to lay into him in front of at least a dozen followers, as well as the other Sycamore members.
Leon held his jaw clenched as Linqian spewed venom into his face until she finally pulled back and released his personal space from assault. Twenty years of meditation and deep breathing exercises for moments just like this... Leon ground his teeth together slightly, like rolling a piece of chewing gum between his molars, then nodded as the muscles in his face released their tension.
"Alright Linqian, good to see you too, first." he started, considering what he was about to say next very carefully.
"You've certainly not lost your skill at tearing someone down, especially in the worst places... Now, I broke your car? Well, you're not the only one, but tonight you'll be the only one who has the chance to scream at me for it, so congratulations."
Again, Leon paused as he closed his eyes just a moment longer than a blink before opening them again. Happy place, Leon. Happy place.
"Now, while you left St. Portwell after the Coven dissolved, Alizee didn't. And, amazingly, neither did I. No, see, we stayed because this place is home. But, people like you and your brother couldn't build good memories here. You left as soon as you could. So, while there were people here who gladly would have helped you, well... You weren't here to help. Now you walk into a place where someone who had deep and serious issues came to escape her problems and be with people who cared about her; and you look at my mother grieving over the loss of a beloved congregate and insult our practices that you know nothing about? Over dollar fucking bills? You're damn lucky that we're in the middle of a fucking crisis or-"
"Leon!"
Oh did her regal voice cut the room and Leon's trembling rage like a hot blade through soft butter. Visibly, Leon choked upon his words and turned back to see his mother standing at the pulpit in her place as Prophet. The sun beamed from her in his eyes, and a small tear welled up.
"Steel yourself. Your fury and defense are both unnecessary in the case... For all that brave little Coven did, each of your old companions are welcome here in our House and are counted among our extended family. As any family, she hurts with us and we shall not turn her away... Young Lady, I encourage you to place your name and information in the Book of Registry, that we may deliver unto you the recompense that you deserve. Medical expenses and transportation necessities will be provided for without question. The same can be extended to any of the Sycamore Tree Coven's many disparate members."
Lynette's voice was firm and commanding, as if she was making a complete guarantee and unwilling to leave a shred of doubt in their minds that she was genuine.
"Though, we do... Well... Sonnenrad's Remnants are not exactly the first people we'd like ourselves associated with, perhaps it's a necessary evil. Now, please... Register and be recognized as one of the most charming and graceful."
A woman from the group of onlookers broke away and came back rolling a special cart that had a massive tome of truly old paper. Even now, fresh names were being added to the entry columns, each with addresses and contact information. An archaic practice, but the only official way the Temple handled any kind of membership cursory or otherwise. In front of the book, an inkwell held a quill pen waiting for takers to jot their names down.
<Snipped quote by Atrophy>
It's been seven long years...
I remember Under the Sycamore Tree...
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