Round 84

Jeane braces herself against the barricade, crimson eyes fixed on the wardstone door as it pulses with increasing hunger. The spell strains against something alive and wrong, probing at her concentration like teeth testing bone. She grits her fangs, muscles corded with strain as she fights to maintain control. The building's collapse feeds it power—each structural groan makes the thing stronger.

Abby slides down the wall to sit on the floor, wrapping her arms around herself defensively. "What's happening? Why won't you talk to me?" Her voice shakes with terror and rising panic.

Jeane tears her focus away from the spell for a moment, crimson eyes flicking to Abby's pale face. "It's feeding." Her voice is barely audible, strained with concentration. "The building collapse—it's powering that thing. I can't hold this much longer."

Abby clutches herself tighter, eyes wide with horror. "So we're going to die here? Either crushed by concrete or... whatever that thing is?"

The wardstone pulses again—six beats now—and the whole room groans in response. Jeane snarls something in a language that shouldn't exist and redoubles her efforts, wings spreading for balance. "No." Her voice carries absolute certainty despite the strain. "I won't let it through. I'll hold this barricade until help comes or until Silra finds a solution."

Abby presses herself against the wall as far from the wardstone door as possible, her face drawn and pale. "But what can we do? The floor's already cracking!"

Jeane grabs more items from the counter—a vibrator, restraints, anything solid—and starts shoving them into gaps in the barricade with desperate efficiency. "We survive until help comes or until Silra figures out how to disable that thing remotely." She works faster now, wings twitching with each wardstone pulse.

Abby scrambles to her feet, slipping once on the slick tile before catching herself against the wall. She grabs a handful of plastic dildos from the counter and starts shoving them between furniture pieces with shaking hands. "Fighting with... with sex toys? "

Jeane laughs sharply—half hysterical, half genuinely amused by the absurdity of their situation—"Welcome to my life! Where the best weapon against eldritch horrors is a well-powered vibrator!" She works faster, muscles straining as she reinforces the barricade with whatever's available.

Abby freezes mid-shove, a plastic dildo clutched in her hand. "Wait—did you just say 'well-powered'? Like... batteries matter?"

Jeane glances over her shoulder, crimson eyes gleaming with an idea—"Fuck yes. Fresh batteries mean more power." She yanks open the drawer where she remembers seeing spare batteries earlier. "If we're going down fighting a cosmic horror, we're doing it with fully charged weapons!"

Abby drops the dildos and grabs a handful of batteries instead, stuffing them into her pockets with shaking hands. "This is the most fucked-up plan I've ever heard! "

Jeane grins fiercely, already shoving more 'equipment' into place—"Not just any demon. A cosmic horror that feeds on structural collapse." She snatches up the Sybian from where it fell earlier and wedges it into a gap in the barricade. "And yeah—fully charged, battery-operated weapons. Because apparently the universe has a fucked-up sense of humor!"

Abby stares at the now-fortified barricade made of sex toys, furniture, and desperation. She slides down to sit against the wall again, wrapping her arms around herself. "This is insane. "

Jeane finishes reinforcing the barricade and steps back panting, crimson eyes scanning their makeshift defenses. "Maybe. But if we do, at least we'll go out fighting." She grabs a particularly large dildo and tests its weight in her hand like a club. "Besides, I've faced worse with less. "

The wardstone pulses again—seven beats this time—and she feels something like triumphant laughter reverberate through the stone. Jeane grits her teeth, muscles straining as she fights to maintain the barrier.* The spell strains against something alive and hungry now, probing at the edges of her concentration like fingers testing a lock.