Shadows Over Camp Darkness

Native Language

It was turning into one of those days, the kind that would compel somebody to go for the emergency flask. Yes, that one; the one full of holy water. After a stellar night of sleep, all fifty-seven minutes of it, Gids had woken up to the kind of Hungry stomach that required a virgin sacrifice to sate. Not really, but Gideon was starting to contemplate the half eaten bag of chips the Goblin had drooled over. Thankfully the sun toppled over the horizon, starting the horrific task of lighting the day, and for the first time since she became a Councillor, Gideon didn’t use obnoxious music to wake the kids. Instead she stood at the junction between both doors and gave the slightest flick with her zap. The thinnest tendrils of it swiped them all awake without consciously hurting them at all. The not hurting them part was on purpose, the use of the zap was as effective as the music, but Gideon made the change over deliberately for a different purpose. It is possible to build a bit of resistance to a Fury zap. At least to this lower level one, the kind of constant charge Gideon lives with on her skin. A good thing too, as Virgil seemed determined to stick around Gids.

“Wake up my darlings. Wake up my darlings. It’s time, to get out of bed. If you think that, I won’t come and get you, you’d be better off, playing dead.” Gideon sang out the words, doing nothing to hold back the gleefully sadistic chuckles that followed her little ditty. Gideon was in pain, Hungry and on edge; and it was only the first week. Not the best track record ever to be honest.

“You smell different.” The Nephilim stared at her, shameless as he stood in his boxers.

“Yes, and you will get a better explanation later. We’re having our one-on-one today. Now go get dressed before someone accuses me of having a harem of half naked, underage teens cavorting about.” Gideon calmly instructed. She wasn’t surprised he could smell the aura shift in her, and now it would be the most noticeable so it was a great tool to help the boy achieve his own singularity. Everyone else was determined to make him claim either his angelic heritage or his demonic bloodline. Mutually distinct and exclusive options. But Gideon could help him be that one in a million hybrid that holds onto both legacies. It just takes determination and grit.

The first real wrinkle in Gideon’s game plan walked stark naked up to her, pupils blown out and electro-statically charged hair. First the Nephilim, not the Siren; Gideon was surrounded by too much bare flesh, she was starting to feel like Charlie Sheen. “You had the barest trace of a Call to your song.” The Siren breathed, too much power in her own voice.

Well crap, did not see this happening. She’s one deep breath away from a full on Song herself. Gideon realized and knew she had to take precipitous action. Her plans to avoid touch for the next while are going to be thrown under a bus though. She gripped the back of the girl’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “Aim your Song at me. Don’t worry; don’t fight it or hold back. I’ll be fine and so will you.” Her eyes were locked on Aglaope’s but Gids was aware of the slightly alarmed and confused attention they were getting from the rest of their Intake. Gidster would have given the girl privacy for this, she deserved that, but they simply had run out of time.

A shudder passed through the Siren as her Song cascaded internally before being expressed orally. Without breaking the intense stare down, Agla opened her lips and allowed her Song to spill forth. A Siren could ensnare and spell, pulling in any available prey with a Call or targeting a specific victim with a Song. Aglaope poured every scrap of power into the song, trying to rip Gideon’s ability to resist away. Luckily Furies were a part of the world immune to a Siren’s voice. But Gideon didn’t just want to shrug the Song aside; she had to handle all that power so that none of it could spill out onto the others. She also didn’t want to just pull the power out entirely, because that’s what the girl’s Madame had been doing. It wasn’t right to perpetuate that kind of abuse. Spectacular, it’s too early in the morning for this do or die hokum. Even as she thought that, Gideon sketched a sigil in the air to redirect the power around Agla, locking the girl in to simmer in her own power. It wouldn’t hurt the Siren at all; in fact it would allow her to reabsorb some of it until the rest naturally dissipated. But Gideon would have to keep a part of her focused on keeping that bubble in place the entire time, while going on about her regular day.