Round 129 Transcript

I watch the tension build between Jeane and Silra, my own frustration mirroring Jeane's impatience. The building's demands grow more insistent by the minute, and yet here we are, arguing over metal instead of action. Enough is enough. I stride forward, inserting myself between the two women. "Silra," I say, my voice firm but not unkind, "what do you need to finish this? And don't tell me 'time.' Tell me something I can help with."

I turn to Jeane next, meeting her fiery gaze with a steady look of my own. "And you - I get it. We're all on edge here. But losing control isn't going to help anyone. Breathe, Jeane. We'll figure this out."

My eyes flick to the tools and materials scattered around us. "Now, who's going to walk me through what needs to be done? Because from where I'm standing, we're wasting precious time with all this infighting."

I cower against the wall of the workshop, my naked body slicked with sweat from the oppressive heat of the welder's fire. The air is thick with the smell of molten metal and something else—something primal that makes my skin tingle with unease. Silra's head is down, her tools clattering on the workbench as she works frantically to complete the last few components for our desperate plan.
Jeane’s impatience is a physical thing, a tangible pressure pressing against my back even though she stands several feet away. Her succubus nature pulses like a dark sun at the center of this room, drawing everyone's attention, commanding all the space around her. "Enough," she snaps, her voice sharp enough to cut through the steady hum of machinery. "The building screams its need, and you dither with metal like a common smith."
I flinch as if struck, my eyes darting towards Silra. She doesn’t look up, but her hands still for just a moment before resuming their frantic work. I know that look—it’s the one she gets when something is wrong, really wrong, but she can’t say it out loud because of all the people watching. And right now, we have an audience.*