In the suddenly oppressive silence, the only people up and moving are the escapees. Even without crewmen fleeing from the fight, it's doubtless that they made enough noise to have roused most of the prison transport by this point, but nobody else storms down or up the ladder to confront them. It would seem that either the Imperials aboard the ship have surrendered, or are preparing to make their stand topside or on the bottom deck with all the bunks. There are a few bodies left behind, and lots of cargo; probably there's enough time for those present to lick their wounds and plan, though the longer a delay could well mean an equivalent time for remaining guards to settle in for their defense.<br/><br/>Brusquely wiping her hooves on the deck, Chira meets Delia's gaze without any particular emotion on her face and without taking a step back from the succubus. "Garth and I were badly wounded. I did not want to gamble on your spell keeping her subdued until she was gone. Fighting is enough of a gamble without running foolish risks to gain a second meal." She inclines her head slightly. "Sorry you only have the one meal. But I would do it again. Besides, she served the Imperials," the centaur says, sneering at the body. "That was enough on its own, though it was too quick for her. Better to dispose of her the way these two soldiers and that mage are," she nods at Delia's own belly. The centaur seems to have stronger muscles in her digestive tract than the succubus; the bulges two grown humans made were already still with only weak twitches, and only those with very good hearing could hear the faint moans of pain as the one soldier who was still conscious tried to keep himself alive in the churning nightmare of the centaur's guts. Reaching down, Chira takes Garth's hand and gently pulls the half-orc up to his feet, letting him rest against her even though by all outward appearances the centaur's even more injured than Garth. Still, she has four legs. She can bear the extra weight- especially as Xarius heals some of the most egregious wounds.<br/><br/>Advancing, Mona looks at the fallen elven lieutenant with a sigh, bending down, taking an unbloodied hand, and giving it a dainty lick before letting it drop with a little frown. That frown changes to a beaming grin when she sees Delia take out the medallion, and she eagerly hooks it around her own neck. "Thanks! You've got no idea how good it feels to put this on, especially after having it taken away from-" she more-or-less gently pats Delia's stomach for her. "Hope you make that one last a while." Favoring Delia with a smile, apparently having opted to neglect differences in heritage for the sake of getting an evidently meaningful trinket, she turns and gives Xarius a quick hug, pressing her underfed but still soft body against the paladin's front. "Thanks again for the help when that- asshole tried to eat me! I know you did your best to keep the elf alive, but like the lady says, no reason taking risks when we're this close. You'll help me get a meal next time, won't you?" Grinning, Mona gives Xarius's ear a playful bite. "Or if you'd prefer, you can just take his place as a meal to keep me warm tonight. But I'd rather have some asshole soldier moaning inside me than you- you'd be more fun than one of them outside me."<br/><br/>The surge of healing energy feels a little strange to Delia, but some of her surface wounds knit shut under the paladin's magic. That magic isn't selective, though- inside the succubus, her meal feels a jolt of energy as well, restoring her vigor. Moving fast, while the succubus is a little distracted, the mage bolts upward through the loose sphincter leading back to Delia's throat. By the time Delia realizes what the strange feeling is, there are acid coated hands scrabbling at the back of her tongue, grabbing onto her jaws and hauling herself free of the slimy belly. With her now bare skin covered in Delia's juices, she's slippery enough to keep her momentum and push out of the throat, blinking in the comparatively bright light of the cargo hold as her head emerges dripping from the succubus's jaws. Before anyone else can do anything, Mona chirps, "I don't think so!" and darts in. The pyromancer puts her hands on her rival mage's head, adding, "I'm the only academy-certified mage in this cargo hold, lady. I've even got the medallion to prove it!"<br/><br/>"You little bitch!" The imperial mage snarls, voice hoarse but upward progress halted by Delia recovering from the surprise and by Mona's intervention. "You stole that, and once I get out of here-"<br/><br/>"Once you get out of there, I'll be sure to give your new home a little squeeze," Mona says, pushing forward. Between her and Delia's throat, Delia's meal has no chance; the same slipperiness that let her get all the way back up into the maw now keeps her from arresting her slide back down. One last time, her face and neck is shoved backward over Delia's tongue, giving the succubus another taste of that mana-rich flesh even if it's got a much more sour, acidic bite to it now from its coating. Mona doesn't let go until the other mage is all the way at the back of Delia's mouth, getting some drool on her forearms and brushing her hands over Delia's tongue to give her a taste. There's a bit of the same flavor to her as the other mage, that promising, magically potent energy to it, and another overtone that Delia hadn't tasted for what seemed like centuries. If she had any doubt that Mona had something from the Abyss a ways up her family tree, one taste removed those doubts for Delia. She doesn't get much of a chance to savor it, though, as Mona quickly pulls her arms free before Delia can even think about making room for a second mage. Wiping her arms on her prison robes, she backs away, fingering her new medallion and smirking.<br/><br/>Inside, the Imperial mage is all but bereft of hope- she'd made one last leap to freedom, and gotten shoved right back down into Delia's gut. The gibes about breasts go unanswered, as she scrabbles at the now-tighter entrance to her prison with the last of her strength... and then sinking down into the pool of acid, prompting a burp from the engorged succubus as the mage submits to Delia's stomach. She'd have hours yet- maybe more, from the unpracticed gut- before finally dying, but the mage had no more strength or willpower left to even attempt to escape. Like the two soldiers inside Chira, they were now lumps of digesting meat that hadn't happened to lose consciousness yet. Fitful twitches inside Delia's gut keep her fully aware of the pleasurable meal's continued life, though she seems to not want to talk just yet. Maybe after softening up a bit more- she hadn't gone to pleading, and Delia remembered many a meal that tried without success to talk their way out of their fate as padding.