Round 13

Jeane crouches behind a rusted fence post, her crimson eyes fixed on two armed figures in the church courtyard ahead. The tall succubus woman's wings twitch with barely-contained impatience, exhaustion evident in every line of her body. This is fucking sloppy. We're already compromised from whatever happened upstairs, now we're debating whether to sneak attack locals or sweet talk our way out? Her gaze flicks between the armed men and Halie's pleading expression.

She draws a deep breath, forcing herself to think through the exhaustion. Okay, priorities: One - those guys with guns are a serious fucking problem. Two - the robed chick in the robes might be friend or foe but she definitely knows more than she's saying. Three - Halie is right about not fighting our way out of this, but standing around arguing isn't helping either.

Jeane's hand moves to her belt instinctively before catching herself. Shit. No weapons visible, no aggressive movements. Can't afford to escalate this situation any further. She shifts her stance slightly, trying to look non-threatening while still maintaining cover behind the fence post.

Her lips move silently as she runs through potential spells in her head - anything non-lethal and deniable. This calls for some serious finesse or we're all fucked.