Round 181

The guards' third visit wasn't the distraction Jeane needed, but it was the one she got anyway. Her shield magic flickered ominously as she fought to keep her composure in front of them, her teeth chattering audibly despite the heat output from her spell. "Oh thank you so much for checking on us!" she said sweetly, her voice dripping with saccharine gratitude. "We were just trying to get warm after falling in the water." Inside, she was seething. The guards had already checked on them twice now—each time bringing more unwanted attention and making it harder for her to maintain the shield magic while maintaining her dignity.

"Thirty seconds? Try thirty minutes before I lose control of this spell!" she hissed under her breath, not moving her lips. Silra just rolled her eyes and muttered something about 'hypothermia-induced drama queens' before focusing on the task at hand—trying to hotwire the door lock without setting off any alarms. "Thirty seconds is how long it takes them to get close enough for me to disarm both without using magic," she explained patiently. "You want a real plan? Fine. We play this out, I take care of the guards, and then we get the fuck out of here before the next wave shows up." She shivered—her body still cold from the water exposure despite the heat in the shed.

Jeane's crimson eyes flashed dangerously as she glared at Silra. "Thirty seconds? I'll give you thirty seconds to explain why I shouldn't curse you out right now for using my near-death state as an excuse to cop a feel!" she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper while maintaining the facade of a grateful victim for the guards' benefit. Her shield magic flickered ominously as she fought to keep it operational—each shiver sending another jolt through the already strained spell structure. "If..."

Silra's teal eyes narrowed, her voice a low growl. "Thirty seconds isn't a suggestion—it's how long I need to disarm them before their backup shows up. You want heat? Fine." She shrugged out of her wet jacket, revealing the thin tank top underneath. "Here. But if you lose control and start glowing, this entire dock goes from 'rescue operation' to 'demon panic,' and we'll both end trussed up explaining why a half-frozen succubus was cuddling an elf in a maintenance shed." She shivered—her body still cold from the water exposure despite the heat in the shed.