Round 85 Transcript

As you consider your options, the magical energies in the room intensify—the residual traces of your earlier activities mixing with Jeane's chaotic spell in ways that make your skin crawl. The soldiers are getting jumpier now, their eyes glazed and hands drifting towards... what? Stun guns? Cock? It doesn't matter—something is definitely changing their behavior.

Suddenly, the enhanced female operative draws a small taser-like device—different from the stun guns the others carry—and aims it directly at Jeane. "Control your fucking magic or we will," she snarls, fingers tightening on the trigger. "This facility doesn't need more incidents."*

Ms. Stone steps forward now, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Enough! All of you—stop this immediately before security comes running and makes everything worse!" She looks genuinely alarmed at how quickly things are spiraling out of control.*

The twin cultists begin to glow faintly as they complete whatever ritual they're preparing—a soft blue light that pulses in sync between them.

I watch the magic swirl around us like a physical force, heavy and charged with unspent energy from what we did earlier. My skin crawls as memories flash through my mind unbidden—fingers on my skin, breath on my neck, the feel of sweat-slicked flesh against mine.

The soldiers look ready to snap—the one nearest me licks his lips like he's tasting the air and I know that look, have felt it on my own face more times than I can count. They're balanced on a knife's edge, fear and arousal mixing until they don't know which way is up.

Ms. Stone looks like she's about to bolt—of course, the bitch always runs when things get hot. But that enhanced operative? She's locked on Jeane like a hawk, taser at the ready. Fuck, that could end badly for all of us if she decides to zap first and ask questions later.

The twins are still chanting, their light pulsing in time with whatever spell they're weaving. It feels... purposeful, but I can't tell if it'll help or hurt us at this point. They could be amplifying the chaos or trying to contain it—they haven't exactly been forthcoming about their plans.

Halia's still on her knees, eyes closed like she can block out everything if she just ignores it hard enough. Silly girl—magic doesn't care how much you want to hide from it. But I can respect the effort even if it won't work.

I feel the energy building in the air, looking for an outlet. A conduit. And with all these soldiers wound up so tight, ready to snap...

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

We need to do something before that enhanced bitch decides we're too much trouble and just wipes us out to be safe. But what? Fight back? Run? Try to turn this whole thing around on them somehow?

I press myself harder against the cold concrete wall of the factory floor, trying to make my body take up less space, draw less attention.
The magic feels like static electricity under my skin, raising every hair on my arms and the back of my neck. It’s a familiar sensation—the aftermath of what we did, what I was part of—and it makes my stomach clench with both shame and a traitorous flicker of excitement.
My eyes dart around the room, taking in the chaos unfolding—Jeane looking more panicked than I've ever seen her, the soldiers growing increasingly agitated, Ms. Stone's frantic attempts at control falling completely flat.
I see Halia still on her knees, praying as if the gods themselves could save us now. Silra looks ready to either fight or flee—always the pragmatist. And Hera... Hera just stands there like she’s waiting for someone else to tell her what to do next.
The twins are chanting something in a language I don’t recognize, their voices rising and falling in unsettling unison as they begin to glow with an eerie blue light. It pulses against the darkness of the room, almost hypnotic in its rhythm.
This is bad. This is so much worse than anything we planned for. We were supposed to be safe here—hidden, contained. Now it feels like the whole world could come crashing down on us at any second.
I try to push away the memories of earlier, the feel of hands all over me, the taste of sweat and lust in my mouth, but they keep rising up unbidden. The magic is just making everything more intense—the fear, the shame, the lingering traces of pleasure.
I want to scream at them to stop, to find a way out before it's too late—but my throat feels locked. All I can do is stand here, naked and exposed in every way possible, waiting for whatever comes next.

I watch the magic ripple through the room like oil on water—Jeane’s spell going sideways exactly as I expected it would. Fucking amateur hour with consequences.

The soldiers are getting twitchy now, looking around like they can feel something wrong even if they don't understand what. The enhanced bitch has her hand on her weapon—I'd put money on her being able to smell the magic in the air, military-trained instincts kicking in. And Ms. Stone? She looks ready to bolt or at least hide behind someone else.

This is exactly why I didn’t want Jeane leading anything complicated—she’s got power but no fucking control over it half the time.

The twin cultists are moving apart now, forming some kind of perimeter like they think that'll help. Typical magical theater. Hera frozen in place? Great, another liability. Abby pressed against the wall looking like a frightened mouse? At least she’s not making things worse with more 'negotiations.' And Halia? Still on her fucking knees praying like this is some kind of religious test. If she gets hurt because of Jeane’s incompetence, I'll kill someone. Probably Jeane first, just to make a point.

The air crackles with loose magic and pent-up sexual energy from earlier—it's like the whole room is charged now, waiting for something to ground it out. I need options here fast before this turns into an actual fight we can't talk our way out of. The soldiers aren't trained to handle magical backlash, but that enhanced bitch definitely knows her shit.

Time to improvise—again.

I need to maintain control here—somehow.

The magic is too wild now, looking for release like a live wire searching for ground. And these soldiers? They're not trained for this shit—they're gonna panic and someone's gonna get hurt if I don't do something fast. Halia on her knees praying? Useless right now but at least she's not in the way. Silra calculating options? Probably trying to figure out how to save her own skin while leaving us as collateral damage.

The enhanced bitch with the taser has her finger on the trigger and that blue glow from the twins isn't helping anything—it's just adding another layer of unstable magic to this fucking mess. Ms. Stone? The cowardly cunt is probably already planning her escape route, leaving us to deal with cleanup.

Fuck it. If I can't control this magic directly, maybe I can at least redirect it into something less destructive—chaos magic always finds a way out one way or another and right now, these soldiers are the most likely outlet. Make them fuck each other instead of shooting us? That's not ideal but it beats getting stunned and dragged away by corporate goons.

Time to try something reckless before this whole situation goes completely off the rails—

I close my eyes for a moment, focusing on the raw magical energy crackling through the room. It responds instantly, swirling around me like eager pets waiting for commands. Good girl, I whisper to it, shaping the spell in my mind—a perverse version of suggestion magic aimed at the soldiers' most basic instincts.*

The air shimmers around them now as the spell takes effect—at first they just look confused, glancing at each other instead of us. Then one reaches out and grabs another's shoulder in what looks like aggression but quickly turns into something else entirely.

The enhanced bitch is still aiming her taser, eyes narrowing as she watches the transformation unfold. "What are you doing?" she snarls. "Stop this right now or—"

I ignore her completely—too busy maintaining the spell as it spreads from soldier to soldier like a virus. Within seconds they're all paired off, hands roaming and uniforms starting to come undone despite our presence.

Ms. Stone gapes at the sudden orgy breaking out on her watch floor. "This is unacceptable! Stop this immediately—you can't just—"

The twins stop their chanting now, watching the chaos unfold with something almost like approval. Their blue glow pulses faster as they observe the scene. Fuck it, I think to myself. Let them deal with this mess—they wanted to contain us so badly? Here's a containment problem they'll never forget.*

Only Halia remains untouched by the magic, still kneeling and praying like the innocent little thing she is. Good—she doesn't need any more complications right now. Silra? She's just watching everything with that calculating expression I know all too well.