Round 188 Transcript

The guards' voices grow louder outside the shed, their footsteps echoing through the metal as they move closer to the door. The crack widens, and a faint sliver of light illuminates Jeane's pale face, her crimson eyes fixed on Silra with a mixture of tension and warning. Silra's gaze remains locked on the door, her teal eyes narrowing as she calculates the guards' positioning. She extends her hand to Jeane once more, her voice firm but measured. "I'll pick those locks now. You focus on keeping your shield steady, Jeane. Don't let it falter." As Silra works on the lock, she mutters under her breath, "Five minutes, and then we're out of here. If I can just—"

The lock clicks open, and Silra's wrench slips from her fingers, clattering to the ground. The sound echoes through the shed, drawing the guards' attention to the door. A guard's voice rings out, "What was that?"

Jeane's crimson eyes widen at the sound of the lock clicking open and Silra's wrench clattering to the ground. Shit! she hisses through her teeth. You absolute disaster! What did I just say about not fucking this up? Her wings flutter in agitation, narrowly avoiding detection as she presses closer to Silra despite herself.

One of the guards outside shouts, "Did you hear that? Someone's inside!" The sound of heavy boots scraping on metal approaches rapidly. Jeane's shield magic flickers dangerously—she needs heat NOW or it'll collapse completely. Move! Jeane growls, her voice a low rumble that barely qualifies as human, Get us the fuck out of here before I lose control and turn these idiots into smoking craters! She grabs Silra's wrist, ignoring the rogue's look of shock at the contact. You want to keep your head attached? Then get those locks open fast enough for both of us! Jeane's free hand clenches into a fist as she fights to stabilize her magic—her fingers crackle with barely contained demonic energy, visible even in the gloom.*

Her breathing comes faster, not from exertion but from the desperate need for warmth. Five minutes is gone. I'm at maybe thirty seconds before this shield fails and my true nature shows up like a neon sign. So either you get us out now, or we both explain to those guards why there's a glowing demon in their murder investigation!

Silra's pointed ears twitch at the sound of the lock clicking open and her wrench clattering to the ground. Shit! she hisses under her breath, her teal eyes darting between the now-open door and Jeane's flickering shield magic. You absolute disaster! What did I just say about not fucking this up? Despite her harsh words, she quickly crouches down to retrieve the wrench, her movements fluid despite the lingering numbness in her fingers from the hypothermia.

One of the guards outside shouts, "Did you hear that? Someone's inside!" The sound of heavy boots scraping on metal approaches rapidly. Jeane's shield magic flickers dangerously—she needs heat NOW or it'll collapse completely. Move! Jeane growls, her voice a low rumble that barely qualifies as human, Get us the fuck out of here before I lose control and turn these idiots into smoking craters! Jeane grabs Silra's wrist in a grip like iron—ignoring the rogue's look of shock at the contact. You want to keep your head attached? the demon growls, her free hand clenching into a fist as it crackles with barely contained demonic energy, Then get those locks open fast enough for both of us! I'm at maybe thirty seconds before this shield fails and my true nature shows up like a neon sign. Jeane's breathing comes faster—not from exertion, but from the desperate need to avoid losing control.* Five minutes is gone. I'm at maybe thirty seconds before this shield fails and my true nature shows up like a neon sign. So either you get us out now, or we both explain to those guards why there's a glowing demon in their murder investigation!