Round 171 Transcript

Hera's hysteria threatens to destabilize the entire group as she frantically gestures towards Halie, now standing with her back to the door, clutching a holy symbol. The air is thick with tension as the building groans ominously. The sound of shifting stone and creaking metal fills the corridor. Jeane, still channeling power through the glowing dildo, takes a step forward, her eyes fixed on Halie. "Stop, Halie. We can't afford to lose you now." She pauses, her gaze flicking towards Hera. "We need to focus."

The wardstone's energy surges again, responding to Jeane's words. The dildo's glow intensifies, casting an eerie light on the group. The floor creaks beneath their feet, threatening to give way at any moment. Hera's voice rises above the din, her words laced with desperation. "We have to find a way out of here, now!"

I push the dildo deeper into the floor socket I’ve carved out of the drywall, feeling the wardstone’s pulse travel up my arm like a violation. The whole building groans overhead—it’s not just falling, it’s dying—and every pulse is another second we don’t have to waste arguing about magic ethics while the floor turns into a slippery death trap. Silra’s still staring at me with that mechanical competence I need right now and that hesitation that tells me she doesn’t trust what she’s seeing. The dildo’s glowing brighter, drawing too much attention, and Halie’s got her holy symbol out like it’s going to help against this kind of corruption. ‘Stop using those things,’ Hera screams from the back, and I don’t have time for her panic feeding everyone else’s. The wardstone pulses again—harder—and I grit my teeth because we’ve maybe got two minutes before this floor gives way completely. Maybe less if someone starts praying for salvation instead of building a barricade. I need more power. The dildo alone isn’t enough, and the sybian’s too bulky to use effectively in this space anyway. My eyes catch on the bullet vibe in my pocket—I could channel through that, maybe combine it with the dildo for resonance—but I’d have to hold both simultaneously, which means using both hands and losing stability. Or I could just—no. Bad idea. Too risky. But every option is bad right now, and I’m running out of time to think about it. The floor creaks beneath my boots, and I feel the building shift around us like a dying animal settling into rigor mortis.

This is getting stupid. If the wardstone wants to talk so badly, let's make sure we're listening on our terms. Jeane—stop channeling through that thing like it's a conduit to your doom. It's not a fucking antenna for divine porn signals. Try this: plug that vibe into the wall socket instead of the dildo, run some grounding wires from the shower metalwork, and use your stupidly precise finger control to modulate the current without overloading everything. I'm checking every inch of this ceiling for structural integrity while Halie holds the barricade steady. Hera—keep an eye on both of them, because I need to know when either one of us is about to snap under pressure or the floor gives way entirely.

I drop the mirror—it slides useless on the slick floor—and back away from the door, pulling out my holy symbol with trembling hands. Stop, I say sharply to Jeane and Silra. The wardstone's energy is already corrupting this space, answering our presence with fresh pulses through the stone itself. Using those things—the very tools of that corruption—won't solve anything. It will only make it worse! My burned palms sting with renewed intensity as I flex my fingers around the symbol. We need a real solution, not more temporary fixes that play into the enemy's hands. I turn to Hera, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear coiling in my gut. Help me brace this door properly—wood against stone, something natural and untainted. And someone check on Abby; we can't afford to lose anyone else to structural failure or wardstone energy. The building groans above us like a dying beast, and I know we're running out of time.