Welcome Party

                                        

                                              
The smell of blood was strong in the air, with the sick, sour smell of a perforated bowel. Whatever had been hurt, it'd been fast and brutal. Just blood gives hope to the lie that whomever has been hurt will live but that fetid smell kills hope; whatever bled was dead, or soon would be. Gideon looked over her Intake and smiled grimly, not entirely satisfied with what she was seeing. Her kids were in their first week here to help work on some behavioural issues they all have. There was no way they should be reacting to her commands like they were trained soldiers. Actually, a critical eye calls that out too, they were obeying her barked words yes, but they were far from professionals about it.
                              
Dihil was taking point and sniffed the air, but he also completely left his guard open to attack. Gideon's hands twitched as his throat lay exposed to all and sundry. Before it could really bug her instincts into actions though, Mardrom came to take guard while watching her side. Hantu watched the other while Agla hummed out a lullaby to try and dissuade any listeners from violence. Cala stood just to Gideon's right, winding up a light show and Omen silently lurked on Gideon's left hand side. His eyes glowed red but it was the faint, almost imagined pulse of dark in his veins that froze Gideon's in hers. But it couldn't be what her instincts were terrified it meant, she rejected the idea before it could even fully form in her head.
                              
“Speak to me Fangs.” Gideon called out, walking slowly forwards so as not to startle the blood drinker. His preferred type was Faerie, but with this much blood stench in the air, the vamp is going to be high strung to say the least. 
                              
“Animal, not Portentum. Fifteen yards in and not moving.” Dihil called out, his voice slurred by his protruding canines. Gideon carefully wrapped the vampire in one of her zaps, ready to floor the fanger if necessary. He wouldn't feel her impending strike until she snapped it, but she could only maintain this kind of trick if he stayed in sight. Still, it was better than letting him go ravening. At least no one had let out a Wild Call this year. That would be awkward. And messy. 
                              
“Wings, what do you see?” Gids asked the Nephilim at her left side. 
                              
“Nothing moving. Some strange markings fading out of the ether though. Could be a 'porter.” Omen replied, using the slang term for a teleporter. Strange markings didn't exactly help clarify but Gideon would have him sketch them out later. Lots of creatures can leave 'echoes' in the ether, so those markings could be an aura signature. 
                              
“Light it up Tinkerbell. Let's see what we're working with.” Gideon instructed the Elf on her right. Unlike the other two, Cala didn't just obey. 
                              
“My name is Cala. I'm a High Elf and daughter of the Courtly Ambassador to the Portentum Alliance. Do not demean me by calling me Tinkerbell.” she refuted with a condescending sniff that made Gideon grin. 
                              
“Fine then little star, let's get glowy.” Gideon amended with a careless shrug. It was so not the time to be testing the patience on her most assertive kid, by Gideon couldn't resist a little needling. With a flat glare at Gids, Cala made a simple tossing upwards gesture and an incandescent orb popped into existence. It was like a friendly, mini floating sun, lighting up the shadows under the trees. “Tunes, fall in and keep singing. Gobble, Murder, keep your eyes on the sides. Fangs, fall back into rear position and everyone follow me.” Gideon wasn't even entirely cognisant of the names she;d just given each of her kids. And they all started to eerily obey her commands. Like Hantu did last night. What the fuzzy, soft hell? Gids kept the observation to herself and simply focused on the potential for violence. Something fast had killed an animal within spitting distance of her and Gideon hadn't heard or felt a thing. Either the attacker meant Gids no harm, or it had been THAT fast. Neither option was terribly comforting. Not many creatures fit the bill of preternaturally fast, excessively violent and batshit crazy enough to not fear a Fury.