Round 8 Transcript

Silra pauses mid-bite, her eyes narrowing as she considers Halie's words. Wake Abby? Are you serious? That'll just make things worse—she'll freak out, start screaming, and then we've got an actual crisis on our hands instead of a manageable situation. She gestures sharply toward the floorboards with the bread in her hand. Those two downstairs are already more than enough loose ends. We need to handle them first before we add another variable into this mess. As if on cue, a loud thud sounds from below—something heavy being moved or dropped. The muffled voices grow clearer for a moment: "—have to get out of here!" and "—no idea what's going on upstairs!"

Silra hisses under her breath. See? This is exactly why we need to act fast. She starts pacing again, running a hand through her hair in frustration. Okay, new plan. Halie, you stay here and keep an eye on things upstairs. I'll go down there and… persuade them to come with me quietly. Jeane's out handling whatever the hell she does when she leaves, which means we're short-handed for cleanup duty. She looks at Hera pointedly. That leaves you. You're conscious now, which means you get to choose—stay here and help Halie keep things under control upstairs, or come with me downstairs and try not to make the situation worse than it already is. But whatever you decide, decide NOW. We don't have time for hesitation. Silra moves toward the basement door, pulling a small vial from her pocket—a sleeping draught, just in case. This isn't complicated—either help or stay out of the way. Simple enough, right? Her expression says she very much doubts this will be simple at all.

The voices downstairs grow louder still, accompanied by the sound of something scraping against concrete.

I return from my brief excursion into the city, the cool night air still doing little to soothe the burning frustration inside me. This is… unsatisfactory. The city offers no true sustenance for one of my nature—mere mortal distractions and petty amusements are insufficient to slake this particular thirst. I pause at the church entrance, wings slightly ruffled from the walk back. The others will need to understand that our current situation demands more than half-measures and hesitation. We cannot build an empire on uncertainty and compassion—those two downstairs represent exactly the kind of weakness we must purge if we are to succeed. I enter the sanctuary proper, taking in the scene with a critical eye—the two unconscious women still where we left them, Hera awake but clearly disoriented, Silra looking harried in the kitchenette. Progress report. Now. Before this situation deteriorates further into chaos. My gaze lingers on Hera—still resistant after all this time. Perhaps a demonstration is required to illustrate the consequences of continued defiance. Or perhaps you require further motivation to embrace your true potential, little one?

I approach Hera carefully, keeping my distance but speaking clearly over the growing commotion downstairs. We don't have much time. Silra's right—we need to decide what happens next before things spiral further out of control. I glance toward the basement door where Silra disappeared moments ago, then back to Hera. My voice is gentle but firm. I understand you're confused and scared, but we can't just sit here while everything falls apart downstairs.

Jeane's methods are… extreme. And they're not sustainable for what we're trying to build here. I pause, choosing my words carefully. But she also has a point—we need to act before the authorities get involved or more civilians wander in and complicate things further. My hand moves toward Hera instinctively, offering support or comfort if she'll take it, but stopping short of actually touching her without consent. Can you stand? I think Silra will need help down there soon—she can't handle everything on her own.

I look at Hera, trying to keep my expression neutral despite the exhaustion pulling at every muscle. Listen carefully—the noise downstairs isn't going away, and we need to make decisions now. I step closer, voice low enough that it shouldn't carry down there but loud enough for her to hear clearly over the commotion. I get that you're scared and confused, but this? This is exactly why I said we needed a better recruitment strategy. Online, anonymous—at least then we could control the situation more cleanly. My eyes flick toward the basement door—Silra should be down there now, trying to handle whatever mess Jeane left behind. Right now, Silra's dealing with two terrified women who wandered in looking for shelter and got… I gesture vaguely at the scene around us, this instead. We need to decide if you're helping or if you're staying here with Halie.

I don't wait for an answer—I move toward the basement door, pulling a small vial from my pocket as I go. The liquid inside sloshes with each step—if things get too messy down there, this might be necessary. And if Jeane asks? Tell her I went to 'assess the situation' and that she should focus on whatever damage control she's good at. My hand hovers near the doorknob for a moment. The voices downstairs are clearer now—definitely more than one person down there, definitely terrified. Great. This is going to suck, isn't it? I mutter mostly to myself before turning the knob and descending into whatever disaster awaits below.