Round 110

Jeane’s fingers dance across the arcane interface, maintaining the complex web of magical fields that held Hera suspended against the wall. The electrical aura crackling around the blonde’s head flickered ominously as Jeane adjusted parameters, a visible shimmer in the air where her power gripped flesh and bone. “Hush now,” she commanded, voice low and steady despite the strain visible in the set of her jaw. “You’re not helping anything with that noise.” The gag-field tightened fractionally in response to Hera’s muffled protests, cutting off her stream of demands mid-sentence.

She turned her attention away from the struggling woman, fixing instead on Silra standing guard by the door. “You heard my orders,” she stated flatly, crimson eyes narrowing as she gauged the other woman’s compliance. The unstable magical field around Hera's entire body pulsed faintly, the smell of ozone dissipating slightly now that it no longer contained her mouth specifically.

Jeane’s gaze flickered back to Hera, then settled on Abby kneeling obediently at her side. A slow smile curved her lips as she drank in the sight—the blonde woman bound and silenced by a complex binding magic, the young redhead positioned perfectly for Jeane's control. The power flowing through her veins thrummed with dark satisfaction.

“I won’t be long,” she purred, addressing Silra while keeping her attention on Hera’s helpless form. “Keep that corridor clear. Anyone comes near this door, you handle them. Quietly.” Her fingers moved again across the interface, and a tendril of shadow snaked out from the magical field surrounding Hera, wrapping around the blonde’s ankle in an obvious threat.

Silra watched Jeane maintain her intricate web of magic while keeping Hera restrained and Abby under her thumb. The magical field pulsed with barely contained power, each surge sending a visible ripple through the air. My rogue senses picked up on the strain—too many spells, too much energy, and for what? A party game gone wrong?

“Jeane,” I said, my voice calm but laced with warning, “you’re pushing it. That field’s unstable. One wrong move and we’re all caught in it.”