Round 25

Jeane’s crimson eyes gleam in the dim church light as she watches Julia stumble inside, still buzzing from the bar. The succubus’ voice echoes softly in the vast space, her tone dripping with barely contained excitement. "Oh sweetie," Jeane purrs, turning to Silra with an expression of barely concealed disgust, "this is going to be so much fun." Her wings twitch with barely contained excitement as she watches Julia stumble inside, still buzzing from the bar. "The air between us feels electric, charged with a tension that has nothing to do with magic and everything to do with something far more potent."

Silra scans the church's abandoned interior, noting every exit route and potential leverage point. Julia stands there looking... eager? Naive, more likely. And Clarice lingers near the door like a complication waiting to happen. The elf’s teal eyes narrow as she takes in the scene before her—an abandoned church turned makeshift brothel, lit only by a single flickering candle. "This is sloppy setup for a heist," Silra mutters under her breath, more to herself than to anyone else. "No tools worth mentioning in our inventory, which means we’re improvising with whatever’s on hand and whatever social capital Julia has burned through at her local watering hole."

Jeane leans back against the altar, her wings folding neatly at her sides as she offers Julia a smile that's equal parts invitation and predatory intent. "Now then," the succubus purrs, her voice a silken caress in the cool air of the church, "let’s see what you’re made of, shall we?" She runs a hand along the edge of the altar suggestively, her crimson eyes never leaving Julia's face.

Silra feels a shiver run down her spine that has nothing to do with the cold night air. This setup is getting more uncomfortable by the minute.