Round 3 Transcript

As Halie moves toward the stairs with a determined stride, Jeane's eyes narrow thoughtfully. The idea of proceeding carefully makes sense, but it also frustrates her—she wants to revel in their newfound power and corruption without restraint. She moves closer to Abby, who's still groggy and unaware of what's transpiring around her.

Jeane's crimson eyes gleam with predatory intent as she gazes down at the still-groggy Abby. My dear, it seems you've slept through quite an eventful night—perhaps we should remedy that with a more... waking experience? She trails one clawed finger along the younger woman's cheek, her other hand subtly reaching for a nearby vial of aphrodisiac. Let's make sure you're fully present for today's activities.

I move toward the stairs carefully, my body still protesting last night's exertions despite Silra's sensible concerns about discretion. The idea of Jeane handling Abby while we prepare upstairs makes me uneasy—what exactly does 'waking experience' entail? But Silra is already moving to check the perimeter and scout, which seems prudent even if it leaves us fewer in number for a moment. I pause at the base of the stairs, looking back. "Silra, perhaps you should remain here—supervise Jeane's... handling of our guest," I suggest, my voice measured despite the unease I feel. "We can work upstairs without worry then."

I listen at the top of the stairs for any sounds from the sanctuary above—nothing yet except dust settling after all our activities last night. My pointed ears catch every creak in the old woodwork as Hera and Halie move downstairs, their footsteps echoing in the empty space. Halie's suggestion makes sense on a tactical level—the fewer people up here to make noise while we prepare everything, the better chance we have at staying quiet enough not to draw attention. But it also feels... wrong somehow. Too easy. Too convenient for Jeane to 'handle' our unconscious guest however she sees fit while we're busy with preparations. I turn back to face Jeane and Abby, watching as Jeane leans over her—too close now, too predatory in that stance. The vial glints in her hand, and I know exactly what's in there from the previous night. My stomach twists again at the memory of how that stuff made me feel, made me do things I never thought possible. My hand drifts to my belt where the hidden blade is strapped—ready but not yet drawn. "Wait," I call out, not quite stopping her but definitely putting a pause on things. "Let's talk about this first."