Lux

Description: Lux doesn't cut an impressive figure, with her slim build and 5'3" stature, nor could she be called beautiful, exactly; "cute" would be a more fitting description. Nevertheless, those who spend any time around her can sense the steel beneath her gaze.

Nimbus: Brilliant shades of red, gold, blue, and green flare around Lux, as though she were a prism splitting the rays of ambient light.

History: Veronique Warrington was born on February 24th, 1986, Year of the Tiger, in Montreal. Her parents, John and Michelle were kind and loving, but their many, many careers in the service industry made only enough money for them to live off of. Provided for, if only barely, Veronique grew up truly knowing the value of a dollar, and this was something her classmates never let her live down. She had friends, as every child does, but even among them she was always reminded of this fact.

Nevertheless, Veronique loved school. She loved the chance to absorb knowledge and had an easy time with her school work, her natural wit helping her along, and even beyond all of that, lunch was always an assured meal. She had excellent grades and, in high school, met her first academic challenge. It wasn’t that she couldn’t keep up with the schoolwork, but a part time job and the new types of ‘recreation’ competed for her time. She worked, partied, wrote essays, completed various school projects, partied some more, and ran track. Running helped clear her mind, banishing all of the other things going on in her life, and she loved the competitive nature of the sport appealed to her. It kept her fit and feeling healthy, so she refused to give it up.

After high school she was accepted into the University of Toronto, a prestigious school that had comprehensive programs, decent sports teams, and above all, it was situated in one of, if not the most economically powerful cities in her country. Unlike most of her peers in the Entitlement generation, Veronique was used to working her ass off to get what she wanted and her goal in life was to find a steady job that made money. She didn’t want to sweat blood while trying to make a living, like her parents had, and saw an opportunity to achieve her goal in the world of finance. What better way to make money than by handling it? Or so went her thoughts. After four years of schooling, she graduated and was hired by the Bank of Montreal on Bay Street. Despite the prestige of her place of work, she didn’t hold a prestigious, but it had a steady income and that was all she cared about.

Thus it became an exercise to act sane all day, being ineffably polite and pragmatic even with the rudest or distracting of costumers, but after her 8-5 shift was done she was free. Her bank account (held at BoM, obviously) was pleasantly full and she had no commitments, nothing was expected from her, and she embraced all that Toronto had to offer. To put it mildly, she went mad from the deluge of freedom offered to her after the hour of 5 p.m. For a simple penance of 9 hours of slavery, she could do most anything that she wanted. The world seemed to be in balance. It was only until a gun was being shoved into spine did she realize the Lie that she had been living.

On December 3rd, 2009, at 3:45 exactly, the Bank of Montreal, housed in the tallest building in Canada, was stormed by gunmen. One of the gunmen took Veronique hostage, pushing his gun against the back of her neck, and then dragged her towards the safety deposit boxes. Insidiously, while she fumbled with the bank key, anger filled Veronique. Anger at the helplessness, the inability to fight against these base creatures, at the loss of what she had worked hard to earn; anger at the fear she felt and above all, anger at how meaningless her life had been up until this point. The anger built and when the man aimed his gun at her the event became a crucible that refined her soul and sent it hurtling across the abyss to the Watchtower of the Golden Key. She moved inside it, feeling the bristling energies of the realm and the touch of an Infinitely Immense Entity all around her, humming through the structure like the serenade of a golden harp, and as her name embossed itself in glowing silver letters on the inside of the tower, she felt a thrum of the energy coil about her so that she two resonated with its power. But then, suddenly Warrington was back in the vault which held the deposit boxes and she saw the man’s finger begin to depress the trigger. She thrust out a hand, her entire being focused on saving herself, and when the bullet flew from the gun, it altered its course by a slight degree and buried itself in her shoulder. She fell backward, and as her skull cracked off of the tiled floor, she knew no more.

When Veronique awoke in the hospital, there was a strange man sitting beside her bed. He told her that he was a psychologist working for the hospital and that he wanted to help her sort through the recent traumatic experience of the Robbery. In truth, the man was an agent of the Silver Ladder, one who was investigating the theft of one of his cabal’s powerful artifacts, one that had been held in a certain safety deposit box in the Bank of Montreal. However, he soon learned that Veronique had no only been extremely lucky in avoiding death, but she had also received a gift much greater than anything the Bank could have been holding. The Thearch, Mercurius, explained the significance of what happened to the young Banker and agreed to take her under his wing.

One had to understand the beliefs of their Allies and Enemies, Lux's mentor would often say and thus, Veronique began to speak with other Mages and debated and tried her knowledge against any who were willing to spend the time. One mage in particular, Pulp Noir, was especially receptive and shared discussions or debates frequently with Lux. She adapted well to the life of an Awakened and eventually quit her job so that she could spend more time learning the Arcanum and the ways of the Consilium. It was after another session of the Consilium had meted out justice that an old woman, an Acanthus of her Order, approached her and said the mark of Destiny was upon Lux. The Acanthus said that, just as her namesake, Lux would help spread the light of Awakened Civilization and Justice, but that she should “Beware the Hermit” who would try to lay her low.

It was shortly after this, marking a year after her Awakening, that a Coup took place in the Consilium and a new Hierarch was put in place. Lux’s Order had helped orchestrate the Coup and perhaps because of this the Consilium adjusted quickly. Lux saw no future for herself in Toronto, at least not one that would further her destiny, and soon afterwards she began to experience dreams of a place that had far more sun and far more trouble brewing along its borders. The young mage began to investigate the meaning of these dreams and soon became aware of a city that had only recently erected a Consilium, and furthermore, the City almost entirely lacked representatives of her Order. Thus, seeing a her Destiny lying in Sacramento, she moved across the Country, the blessing of her Mentor serving as the only farewell needed to Toronto.