Round 86 Transcript

Your carefully crafted spell of perverse suggestion ripples through the room like oil on water—as predicted, it finds the most receptive targets first: the soldiers. But something unexpected happens as their inhibitions crumble—the magic doesn't stop there. It flows from them to others in the room like a spreading stain.

Ms. Stone yelps in surprise as her own body responds without permission—her nipples hardening visibly beneath her crisp suit, a flush creeping up her neck despite her best efforts at control. "What is this?" she gasps, trying and failing to maintain her composure. "Stop this immediately before it—"*

She's cut off by a choked moan as her own hand drifts up to cup her breast without conscious thought. The enhanced operative next to her isn't faring much better—the taser slips from her fingers as they too begin to succumb, one hand moving reflexively towards their crotch while the other gropes Ms. Stone's ass through her skirt.

The twin cultists, however, seem completely unaffected—if anything, their blue glow intensifies as they watch the unfolding orgy with something approaching scientific interest. "Fascinating," one murmurs. "The spell is targeting and amplifying existing sexual tension rather than creating new desire. Most efficient."

Silra has backed against a workbench now, eyes wide as she watches everyone around her lose control one by one—even Hera and Abby are starting to show signs of the magic's influence. You can see them both fighting it, but their bodies are already responding traitorously: Hera's hands have moved to cover herself instinctively while Abby's breathing quickens.

This is exactly what you were trying to avoid—the situation spiraling completely out of control. The soldiers are now in a full-blown orgy on the factory floor, the enhanced operative has Ms. Stone pinned against a wall and is aggressively kissing her neck despite her protests, and everyone else is rapidly approaching the point of no return.

Only Halia remains untouched—praying with such single-minded focus that even your chaotic magic can't penetrate it. But how long will that last if this continues?

I can't watch this anymore—it's like a nightmare I can't wake up from. Everyone just... giving in? Letting it happen?
This is exactly what we were trying to avoid—public exposure, loss of control, consequences we can't predict or manage. And now look at them.
Halia kneels, hands pressed together, eyes squeezed shut as if prayer alone could shield her from this. Gods above, give me strength—I can't stop this myself.*

The magic crackles through the room like living electricity—Jeane can taste its wild energy on her tongue. This was supposed to be a simple binding spell, something to hold everyone in line until she figured out what the fuck is going on here. Now it's turned into a complete clusterfuck and everyone's losing control one by one.

She watches Ms. Stone pinning some poor intern against a filing cabinet while moaning like a bitch in heat—pathetic how quickly she surrendered to her basest instincts. The enhanced bitch with the taser? Now she's got her tongue down someone's throat instead of doing her goddamn job.

Jeane's own body responds automatically—the familiar heat pooling between her thighs as magic and lust intertwine in the room's charged atmosphere. But she fights it, clenching her jaw until her teeth ache. No fucking way am I losing control here too—somebody needs to keep their head while this train wreck unfolds.

She stalks over to where Silra's cowering by a workbench—looks like at least one person has the sense to try and stay out of harm's way. "What do we know about these fuckers?" Jeane snarls, grabbing Silra by their collar and hauling them up until they're face-to-face.

"Because this wasn't supposed to happen—someone set us up and I want answers NOW before everyone in this godforsaken building ends up a sweaty mess on the floor."

Silra watches 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 slide my hand into my pocket and grip one of the small devices I always carry: a modified taser with enough juice to drop someone twice my size for at least thirty seconds. It won't be enough to solve this whole clusterfuck, but it might buy us some breathing room if things go sideways.

I watch as Jeane moves through the chaos—pale skin flushed with exertion and barely-contained rage. She grabs Silra by the collar, hauling her up until they're face-to-face. "What do we know about these fuckers?" Jeane snarls, "Because this wasn't supposed to happen—someone set us up and I want answers NOW before everyone in this godforsaken building ends up a sweaty mess on the floor."

I step closer, keeping my body between them. "Easy there," I say coolly, "Both of you. We're not getting anywhere screaming at each other like animals." I meet Jeane's wild eyes calmly—she might be volatile but she's also smart enough to listen when someone actually makes sense.*

Inside though? My heart is pounding—I've dealt with a lot of dangerous situations before, but this specific combination of exposed cult members, loose magic, twitchy soldiers, and someone who clearly knows how to fight dirty? This has 'worst-case scenario' written all over it.