Round 22

Silra's teal eyes narrow as she surveys the abandoned church interior. The vast space feels wrong—desecrated, violated somehow. Dust swirls in the dim light filtering through stained glass windows depicting scenes of judgment and salvation that now seem ironic. She moves with practiced efficiency, checking every entrance and shadowed alcove for witnesses or threats. This is a terrible location for what they're planning. Too open, too public, too many escape routes and entry points. One scream could draw half the neighborhood.

Jeane lets out a low purr that makes Clarice flinch. "Oh sweetie, it's an excellent idea. The best ones always are." She turns to Silra with an expression of barely concealed disgust. Silra sighs heavily and approaches Clarice slowly. "Look," she says in a low, reasonable voice, "we're not here to hurt you or anything like that. But we..." Her words trail off as Jeane's attention shifts back to the new arrival.

Julia stumbles inside, still buzzed and horny from the bar. "Wow… this place is… something else." She eyes the scene with drunken curiosity—three women gathered in an abandoned church at night. The setup screams 'cult' or 'orgy,' and Julia's too far gone to care which. "So what exactly are we doing here?"