If the disembodied scream had been enough of a distraction for Ianthe's mental discipline to crumble, the cacaphonous electronic feedback that Toi piped at full volume into the comms proved just enough to wash out the sonorous hum and let her recover.  She had<i>started</i>to pull away from the medic, but forced herself, despite grumbling a troubled,<span style="color: teal">"Fuck,"</span>under her breath, to relax in his grasp.<span style="color: teal">"Thanks,"</span>she added, in time to see Neymi reacting to Toi not with gratitude, but with bared claws.<br/><br/><span style="color: teal">"Hey, he's <i>our</i> degenerate sexbot,"</span>she protested, and then singsonged under her breath,<span style="color: teal">"This is going to su-uck,"</span>while letting her sub-gun drop from her hands. The lethal-looking weapon still hung from her armor via the single-point sling, but at least she wasn't holding it, and hopefully that made her<i>seem</i>like less of a threat. She wasn't counting on help from Cypher, and Toi was wrestling with Neymi... which left her to do something about Darion lest he and his big gun disappear into the complex to become lunch for some misbegotten science experiement. And for that, she figured, she'd need to not look like a potential target.<br/><br/>She put all of the will she could spare, every bit of mental energy she wasn't using to fight off the influence of the hum, to insinuating a suggestion into Darion's mind. Normally she used this skill to make a disguise seem more convincing, to get guards to take a convenient smoke-break, or to get a contact to take a bit less money in exchange for help. She had no idea whether it could overcome the effects of what she imagined was this "Siren's" song, but short of trying to telekinetically pin Darion to the floor, or pulling her sword and severing his hamstrings, it was all she had.<span style="color: teal"><i>Darion. Stop. Your crew needs you.</i></span>She hestitated, then simplified.<span style="color: teal"><i><b>Neymi</b> needs you. She needs you more than the screaming woman. Stay.</i></span><br/><br/><b>[Mental resist: 1d20 = roll 13 + skill 9 = 22]</b><br/><b>[Suggestion: 1d20 = roll 16 + skill 17 = 33]</b><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>