Round 37

Silra’s mind races through possibilities—she needs to control this situation before it spirals completely out of hand. The soldiers’ presence complicates everything; they’re already documenting every detail with those body cams. Halia’s prayer is a smart play, humanizing them and buying time while she assesses the threats. But Halia stepping forward now? That’s reckless as fuck—she doesn’t understand how close we all are to permanent consequences.

Jeane’s naked fury is palpable, her wings half-spread in defensive posture. The cold morning air raises goosebumps across her exposed skin, nipples hardening from more than just temperature. The two robed figures approach aggressively despite obvious tactical disadvantage—amateurs thinking they can intimidate their way through this shit show. And the woman at the factory entrance? Still watching impassively, tall frame imposing even from a distance. She’s not law enforcement—too controlled, too cold—but she clearly has her own agenda.

Abby presses herself against the wall like it might offer protection—a timid little thing who never asked for this chaos. Hera stands between Abby and the main threats, protective stance clear despite exhaustion. The soldiers are caught between multiple armed groups now—one mutters, "What the actual fuck is happening here?" Perfect. Just perfect.*

I need to take control before someone gets killed or arrested.