Shadows Over Camp Darkness

Intake Papers- Female

Aglaope’s latest lover was already mid seizure on the bed. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head, spittle flecking his lips as his body thrashed weakly under her naked body. Panic chewed at the core of her, a terror that for some reason her touch had done this to him. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, her gifts were supposed to tempt and lure, to string along and bring pleasure and game playing. Yes she fed off of their love making and energy and passions but it wasn’t supposed to end in this…. this desecration of the flesh.

It was always like this, no matter how many she sang to, how many men she called to her and consumed, they never stayed. They should have, their energy was supposed to be hers to take and keep. And it shouldn’t have always led to this, to them being locked into a coma-state, and yet it did. The siren screamed and threw herself away from the man as he started to convulse and thrash about. Ever since she had run away from her Mistress and the Job, things had gone horribly wrong for her. She knew that some looked upon her type of Portentum as natural born prostitutes and a flesh –to-use but she had been so young, had had so many dreams that she wanted to pursue that she had finally run from the brothel she’d grown up in. But then the need started to build. The craving for touch and even when she never intended to do it, she started to Sing. And then someone would respond to her song, her lures and lullabies pulling a willing lover to her room. And even when Agla tried to be strong it would never be enough, her need to touch and take and Sing would wrap around them both and then she’d be naked and he’d be convulsing.

Enough was enough and Agla staggered from her room and onto the street, not caring that she was naked. It wouldn’t be long now, before the Portentum Authority would arrive to claim her and the truth of what she was and what she had been doing to these poor men came out. They would drag her away and leave her in a holding cell. After that she knew what came next; she was still a minor in human terms and that meant she was to be treated in the juvenile system. And for a Portentum like her that narrowed things down. Camp Darkness. Part of her was glad, maybe they could figure out shat was wrong with her.

Name: Aglaope Ovid

Classification: Siren

Notes of Interest: sex addict who has a bad tendency to leave lovers in a coma. No control over her gifts as the madam that was pimping her out was siphoning energy off of her.

Cala watched the droplets hit the bathroom sink with a sick fascination. The pristine white porcelain was  unmarred in anyway, except for where her blood spilled. There the contamination in her blood tainted the perfect white of the porcelain, sinking into it and warping it into something dark and disgusting. Just like her.

Her eyes dragged away from the mesmerizing splatter of red blood on white sink to glare into the perfectly polished mirror. Days ago she could have looked into this mirror and seen a beautiful young woman, ethereal, giddy and perfect. But then she had to go and ruin it. Her mother, her tainted, disgusting, vile destroyer. Now Cala looked at her reflection and saw not the traces of Elfin perfection, the thinness of feature and the delicate arch of bone, but instead found the fat, heaviness of human marring the perfection. Ruining her visage from ever being considered beautiful again.

There would never be a chance to feel like she had even a week ago. Cala had been free, unaware of the terrible truth. It had never occurred to her to notice before, how she was just that bit shorter, rounder and heavier than the others. No one had said anything on it either, it was this big conspiracy to keep it from her. Everyone had been laughing at her behind her back for years. Bad enough that her mother had been an Ambassador on the Human-Portentum alliance, as if the High Elves needed anything from those fleshies, but the terrible truth was that her mother has part human herself! That meant that Cala’s own blood was infected with human weakness.

She pulled the edge of the crystal knife across her arm one more time as the hatred started to boil in her gut again, shaking making the line jagged and deeper than she had intended. She knew this violence was the sickness of her human blood, the weakness all the fault of her mother’s side infecting her. If there was a way Cala could carve it out she would. She wanted it gone and letting the infection drip out into the sink was the only way she felt stronger, better. Cleansed.

“Cala, open the door.” Her father’s lyrical voice demanded, no knock just the command.

“No father. I am never speaking to that thing again.” Cala replied, her voice lacking its usual lustre. Her voice trembled, and she was startled by the weakness in her breath.

“She is your mother, not a thing. And you will not disrespect her like that again.” Her father tried the doorknob, the soft rattle of silver against wood warning her that her time was up. He would eventually force the door open and see what she was doing.

“That thing deserved what I did to it and you should not have stopped me!” Cala tried to cry out, but like before her voice was weaker, trembling. In fact her entire body was shaking and she felt lighter than she had since she learned the truth. It was working; her ritualistic bloodletting was setting her free.

Cala looked at the mirror and saw her face, pale and perfect for a moment, despite its wanes and she smiled. She heard the distant sounds of her father’s voice and him forcing the door, but this musical ringing was filling her ears. A soft haze wrapped the entire world, making it so hard to focus past. And then it all drifted away.

Name: Cala Quendi

 Classification: High Elf/human

Notes of Interest: her mother is an Ambassador on the Human-Portentum alliance but Cala is anti human. Violently attacked her mother on heritage revelation and refuses to acknowledge the human heritage, although now commits cutting to try and purge the human blood.

Mardrom looked at the Dragon with calm, emotionless eyes. She knew he was expecting something from her. Some explanation or maybe he wanted her to beg. But she had learned so very long ago that begging was useless. That pleading for mercy and for salvation achieved absolutely nothing. It had left her cold and dead inside although her heart still beat and her body still moved. She felt soulless. Which was what the monster that had done this to her was.

“Are you sure?” the Dragon probed, his natural neutrality filling the room around them. He knew her history, especially where it concerned one of his Camp Counsellors, and yet he didn’t try and make demands. He just wanted to ascertain that this was what she truly wanted now.

Sixteen suicide attempts, each one different and ultimately ineffective. Nothing worked. As a Nightmare she was surprisingly difficult to kill. Scar yes, she had plenty of those now. The emotional ones always thicker than the lines and divots that peppered her skin, no matter the damage she caused. And her dreams lived up to her heritage, all of them nightmares. All of them centering around the night her world ended  and the day she realized that there was no point to living.

“I am very sure.” Mardrom replied calmly. It wasn’t that she couldn’t get mad, she really rather could. Her temper would flare at the most inopportune times and then she’d have that horrible sensation of hope. That maybe this time someone or something would end her completely and it would be over with. But no, after years of this drudging existence she finally knew. It was the one that had taken everything else from her that she had to face.

It was time to dance with Death and try to settle the debt between them.

Name: Mardrom Barn

Classification: Nightmare

Notes of Interest: Has existing history with a current House Councillor, and has requested the Councillor in specific for treatment. Has attempted suicide multiple times, shows violent anti social tendencies.