Round 9 Transcript

The woman's eyes narrow—she's clearly not buying Jeane's innocent act. Before she can respond, a low groaning sound emanates from upstairs. "Fuck," the man mutters, finally fully drawing his gun and holding it at low ready. "That wasn't furniture falling over."

The homeowner glances back at us, her expression shifting from suspicion to something harder. "Listen carefully," she says, voice cold, "you have exactly one chance to explain why multiple people are breaking into my house tonight. Talk fast or we call this in and let the authorities sort it out."

Jeane Cromwell lets her shadow tendrils dissolve into wisps of darkness as she considers the woman's words—she is clearly no mere homeowner. The sound from upstairs shifts her focus; multiple intruders now complicates their position significantly. "Authorities would be... inconvenient," Jeane admits coolly, though her mind races with calculations. "Perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement?" She offers what might be mistaken for a smile—it is more of a predator's assessment.

Before the woman can respond, another crash echoes from upstairs, followed by muffled shouts. Jeane's wings twitch instinctively; she wants Abby secured before this spirals further out of control. "You say you own the building," she begins, stalling, "but if you truly did, would you be so... unprepared for intruders in your own home?"

She gestures with one hand—elegant, dismissive—toward the ceiling where the commotion continues. "These sounds suggest multiple parties. Are you certain you're safe down here? Because from where I stand..." Her words trail off suggestively.

In truth, Jeane is using the woman's concern about upstairs to gauge her reaction while also positioning them as allies against the unknown threat—useful pawns if they can be manipulated properly.

Halie steps forward, her cleric's stole rustling softly. Sister Jeane, we cannot afford to underestimate these... people. She glances at the couple—at the woman whose sharp eyes remind her of predators she's encountered before in church business. The man has a weapon and they clearly know this building intimately. Whatever's happening upstairs complicates everything. Her hand moves toward her belt pouch where healing vials clink faintly against ritual implements, fingers brushing the worn leather as if drawing comfort from its familiarity. We need to secure Abby first—her terror is going to make her dangerous if we can't control it. Then we assess the threat upstairs before these two decide to call authorities. Halie's voice stays steady but tension coils through her frame.

She looks at Silra, then Hera—silent communication passing between them. If this turns violent, we need a plan that doesn't involve murdering homeowners in our own temple. There has to be another way to handle this mess without staining the sanctuary further with bloodshed we can't easily clean.