Round 87 Transcript

I watch as Jeane's spell backfires spectacularly—exactly like I knew it would. The soldiers start to pair off, hands roaming over uniforms and skin while Ms. Stone finds herself suddenly pressed against a wall by her enhanced operative. The twin cultists just stand there watching everything unfold with those unnerving synchronized movements.

Halia remains kneeling in prayer—at least she's staying out of the chaos for now. Silra? She looks like she's trying to calculate every possible escape route while not touching anything that might set off this powder keg. I can see her hand already moving toward whatever hidden weapon she always carries.

But it's Jeane who grabs my attention—storming over to Silra and grabbing them by the collar in a way that screams for violence despite all these witnesses. "What do we know about these fuckers?" she 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 move between them, keeping my voice calm despite every instinct screaming at me to grab one of these weapons and start clearing a path out. "Easy there," I say, "Both of you. We're not getting anywhere screaming at each other like animals." I meet Jeane's wild eyes—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.

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

I grab Silra by the collar, hauling them up until we're eye to eye—her pale skin flushed with exertion and barely-contained rage. "What do we know about these fuckers?" I snarl, "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 can feel the magic still crackling through the room, wild and unpredictable despite my efforts. The soldiers are paired off now, hands roaming over uniforms and skin as the spell's aftereffects work their way through them. Ms. Stone is pinned against a wall by that enhanced bitch with the taser—she looks ready to scream but her body betrays her with every moan she tries to suppress.

The twin cultists just stand there watching everything unfold, those unnerving synchronized movements keeping them perfectly in step even as chaos erupts around us.

Silra's face is pale, pupils dilated with panic—but at least the little shit has sense enough not to try anything stupid right now. I give her a shake that rattles her teeth. "Talk fast," I growl, "Or so help me—"

"Easy there," a familiar voice cuts in—not loud, but carrying enough authority to make even me pause mid-rant. I turn to see Silra's rogue standing between us, hands loose at her sides in a stance that screams 'no fucking way am I letting this escalate further.' "Both of you," she says calmly, "We're not getting anywhere screaming at each other like animals."*

The hell? I let go of Silra abruptly and take a step back, my wings settling as I try to process what just happened.
Silra drops into a crouch, gasping for air while giving the rogue some serious side-eye that says 'and now you're in charge?'

Halia's still kneeling in prayer—at least she's staying out of this shitshow for now. The soldiers are too far gone in their own little orgy to pay attention anyway. But the enhanced bitch? Her eyes are still moving, taking it all in while her hand stays close to that taser.

I'm still fucking furious—someone set us up and this was supposed to be a quick in-and-out situation not a goddamn circus.

The rogue meets my gaze steadily. "We need to clear the room," she says, "Or at least separate everyone who knows what's going on from those who don't."*

Separate them? The soldiers are too far gone for that—no way we can get Hera and Abby out without dragging the whole situation back into focus.

Unless...

I force myself to think past the rage. "Fine," I spit, "But how exactly do you plan to—"*

The door slams open behind us and a new figure strides in—a tall woman with silver hair and eyes like chips of ice. She's flanked by two soldiers who immediately snap to attention, breaking away from their partners mid-makeout session.

Everyone freezes as she speaks. "What is the meaning of this? Report immediately."