Round 149 Transcript

The floor creaks under Hera's weightless body as she slides across the slick floor, her cry for help echoing through the dark corridor. Halie rushes to grab her, but not before she loses her balance, face-first into the water flooding from the broken shower stall. Water splashes onto Jeane's feet, threatening to extinguish her concentration on maintaining the wardstone barrier. The force of the water knocks the heavy mirror loose from its brace against the door, causing it to swing wildly and threaten to shatter on the floor.

The floor groans under me like a dying man's last breath. I can feel every tremor through my boots—this building isn't just settling, it's choosing its grave site and we're in the will. Jeane's spellwork pulses against the wardstone like a heartbeat trying to outpace death itself. Good girl, holding that thing at bay with sheer stubborn will. But I've seen her eyes. That flicker. The way her fingers twitch when she thinks no one's looking. She's riding the edge of control and one wrong thought could send us all tumbling into whatever nightmares that stone keeps locked away. We don't need a hero's sacrifice tonight, we need someone to think like a rat in a burning building. The corridor behind me stretches deeper into darkness than I'd care for, but it might be our only real exit now that the door's bracing is... well, soaked through and slippery as a whore's smile. Halie's got guts pushing against that thing with burned hands—I'll give her that much—but she won't hold forever. And Hera? Sweet girl can barely stand on two feet without face-planting into a puddle of lubricant and water. I need options. I need exits. I need leverage, not grand heroics or romantic gestures or whatever the fuck it is Jeane's thinking about when she looks at me like that. The corridor floor feels solid enough under my feet—better than good, actually. We could move through here if we're careful and quiet and don't all stampede in a panic. "Jeane," I call out, voice sharp, "how long can you keep that shield up? Honest answer." Because lies won't brace the door any better than a mirror will.

I can feel the wardstone pulsing through my burned palms, each beat making the mirror shake against the doorframe. My grip is slipping—the pain's sharp enough to water my eyes—but I dig in with my shoulders, pushing back with everything I have left. Hera's screaming behind me doesn't help. Her voice is high and panicked, and every time she slips on this fucking wet floor, it rattles the doorframe. If that thing gives way even an inch, we're done—wardstone energy will flood this corridor like a wave of pure corruption. I can hear Jeane shouting orders over the building's groans, trying to coordinate something through the chaos. Good luck with that—I'm busy keeping us from being buried alive and wardstoned at the same time. My hands are screaming for mercy, but I won't let go. Won't let any of them touch that thing. The mirror slides another half-inch. Water's gushing out of the bathroom now in a steady stream—probably what knocked Hera over—and it's pooling right where I need to brace my feet. Great. Just fucking great. Slippery floor, burning hands, and a door about to give way while holding three people who can't keep their footing. I try to call out, but the words catch in my throat. The wardstone pulse just changed rhythm—it's speeding up now, like a heart racing before it stops. That means something bad is happening on the other side of that door, and I don't want to know what. But if we don't get this door barricaded properly, we're all going to find out the hard way. My hands are shaking now—the burns plus adrenaline—and I can feel my grip weakening by the second. Need something heavier than a mirror. Need something that won't slip on wet floor. The bed frame? No, too heavy for me alone in this state. The wardrobe? Maybe. But it's across the room and moving might disrupt the door pressure. I glance over my shoulder at Hera scrambling to get up, her eyes wide with terror. She looks so fucking vulnerable—wet hair clinging to her face, clothes soaked through from falling into the water—and for a second I forget why we're here. Forget about the wardstone and the building collapsing around us. Then the wardstone pulses again, harder this time, and reality slams back in. Can't think like that. Can't let myself get distracted by her. Need to focus on survival, not... whatever that was. Just pure instinct for a second there. The mirror slides another inch. I grit my teeth and push back with everything I have, feeling the wood splintering under the pressure. My hands are screaming now—raw nerve endings exposed—and I know they're getting worse by the minute. But what choice do I have? Let go and risk the wardstone energy flooding this hallway? No. Not happening. I'll keep pushing until my arms give out completely if I have to. I call over my shoulder, voice strained: "Hera! Grab onto something stable!" She doesn't answer, just keeps trying to get up, slipping every time she tries to stand. Fuck it—I can't watch this anymore. Without thinking twice, I let go of the mirror and lunge backward, grabbing Hera's arm as she falls again. My hands scream in protest—the burns lighting up like fireworks—but I don't care. I pull her up with me, pressing us both against the wall opposite the door. She's shaking uncontrollably now, soaked to the bone and terrified. "Stay here," I tell her firmly. "Don't move." Then I turn back to the door before my brain can process what just happened—that brief moment of contact when I grabbed her arm. My hands are slick with water and blood now from the reopened burns, but at least she's safe for the moment. The mirror has slipped down another few inches while my attention was elsewhere. Great. Just fucking great. Now I have to figure out how to re-brace that door one-handed while keeping Hera away from it completely—and all without touching her or letting go of the door myself because who knows what happens if she gets too close. I glance around frantically for options. The wardrobe is still across the room, but now I'd have to coordinate moving furniture while maintaining door pressure with one good hand and keeping Hera away at the same time.Screenshot (01:57 PM, Feb 28, 2025)