#xcom fic

[etherealvoidechoes]

Bottled & Brewing

Bradford and crew had been hitting roadblocks attempting to communicate with their recently rescued Commander for some weeks. That was until he picked up an unexpected psionic quirk of a drinking habit that may be the bridge to finally get the man talking.

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Hi. Another Commander, another awakening. Well, skipping to Kamon being awake for some weeks, but same-ish. Just a silly idea that popped into my head.

Consider this a peace offering as I need to get back to the other XCOM fics and others too.

Warning for the usual language, alcoholism, some suicidal thoughts, and mentions of non-consensual body modifications/amputations.

Approx. 11.25k

EDIT: 5/25/25 - Made a correction to the continuity of this AU.

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A flurry of curses filled the semi-quarantined section of the Infirmary. For the past few weeks, things had been eventful in both good and strange ways. XCOM had finally found and rescued their old Commander, Kamon Áki Anker. But the Elders’ had done a number on him. 

Since removing him from the Stasis Suit, which had its own set of surprises, treating Kamon had been slow. Even with familiar faces, if his memories were still intact to recall any of them, he had given them fairly short answers or none at all. All while wearing a face that seemed disinterested to the world – which was a look he always had since his youth after an incident. An additional issue hindering the doctors’ efforts was that he couldn’t speak a lick of English. They theorized that the language centers of his mind had been damaged somehow. They didn’t know if was pure luck or a miracle that he could understand them just fine, but communicating back and forth required a few translators. So far, he could only speak in Thai, Dutch, the language the Elders forced upon humanity and Their alien cohorts, and what XCOM could only assume was the Elders’ personal language.

In all, it was hard to tell if he was truly being cooperative or testing them in each session. He never put up a physical fight, and it wasn’t like he could due to several reasons, but he tried their patience in several other ways. Sometimes, every other word with switch to a different language taking them some time to string together whatever he was saying. Sometimes, he would only speak in the Elders’ language, which XCOM was still deciphering. And some days, he wouldn’t speak at all and just give them his signature plain-faced disinterested stare. Even with the surviving Senior Staff that worked closely with him during the Invasion, they had trouble deciphering what his mood was. 

“Again!?” Someone shouted. The sounds of shoes squeaking across the floor intensified. “Where did he get that bottle and glass from!?” They questioned. A few psionic pings and curses followed.

Kamon was currently trying their patience again with his new, concerning habit. 

It all started a week ago when Bradford, Dr. Veer, and some other Senior staff were trying to rouse old memories and see if he recalled anything while imprisoned. It was a mostly unsuccessful venture as it seemed any of his memories of his time leading XCOM were shot, and he ignored any mention of that Stasis Suit — that was reasonable. Dr. Veer felt like he was recalling something, but was unsure if he was knowingly or unknowingly suppressing it. She could see the slightest change in his eyes and noticed a few odd ticks in his brainwave patterns, but that constant, disinterested face he wore made it difficult for her to be sure. She wanted to tap at his mind with her psionics and gently tap at a few centers of his mind to see if she could find just a strand of memory, but with how he tuned out all mentions of that suit she had a feeling he would not react well to psionics. She would try another time when he was more responsive. Or maybe sooner than she thought. 

Just as their unfruitful discussions with him were winding down, and they were conversing amongst themselves to make a few plans of attack for future sessions, they had left Kamon alone for just a moment. A few seconds later, two distinctive psionic pings rang in the room. None of the psionic sensors went off, but everyone was searching for the source until they were the popping of a cork and liquid being poured. Heads whipped around. It was Kamon. The man somehow had a bottle of wine in his hands and was pouring a fair amount of the glistening red liquid into a wine glass sitting in front of him. Everyone was so stunned, too busy trying to figure out where the bottle and glass came from until someone finally snapped to and tried to take it from it. That’s when they found out he was a psion.

“Oh, for the love of—! Why haven’t we collared him?” Another worker cursed.

“Orders from the doctors and Central forbid us from doing so.” One worker wisely stood by the sidelines since they knew how this would usually play out.

“That’s a load of — HEY!”

Like back then, currently, Kamon was currently playing a game of cat and mouse with the doctors and workers. Whenever someone tried to snatch the wine glass or bottle, he’d teleport them out of their reach and to another side of the room or he would teleport himself and everything to another part of the room. This would continue on and on until either he had his fill — which, thankfully, was always what he just poured — or they finally gave up and left him alone.

The doctors didn’t like this developing habit as they were still running tests to see what the Elders had done to his genetic makeup and feared he may have similar restrictions the Hybrid faced when it came to alcohol. Bradford didn’t like this habit. He thought back on Veer saying she felt he was subconsciously recalling what had happened and possibly recalling the time of his imprisonment. The last thing he wanted, the last thing XCOM needed, was their leader developing a drinking habit. 

“He’s missing an arm and a leg and is still keeping them off of him.” Virgil Defoy said. His lips trembled and his eyes squinted as he tried to hold back a laugh. “What is this, like the 10th time so far this week, mate?”

Bradford let out an annoyed sigh as he shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I’ve stopped keeping track.”

Bradford and Virgil were standing just at the door frame watching the all too familiar scene play out. It was like watching some vintage cartoon as their disabled Commander would teleport from one side of the room to the other, even planting himself on the ceiling to stay out of their reach so he could enjoy his drink.

“Any clue how he keeps getting them since, ya know, he’s been confined to the Infirmary since we rescued him?” It was a pointless question, but it had been bothering Virgil. “Cuz’ our brewin’ gals and pals are getting might-ty annoyed wondering who has been pilfering their stock used for trading and the crew.” Keeping news of who the culprit from spreading was growing more and more difficult with each snatched bottle. “And same with the bargoers wondering why their favorite drink is missing for sum hours.”

Bradford shook his head again. All he could muster was a shrug. “We’re still trying to figure that out, but suspect it has something to do with his psionics.” Doctors Marin and Quinn had been floating around some theories that Kamon could be subtly reaching out with his psionics to map the ship since no one had reported any headaches. “I know. Warren’s already told me he’s going to strangle whoever has been touching his mead stock and those in progress.”

He snorted. “Man, oh, man… the mountain man is pissed. Took him forever to get all that honey besides getting ‘em hives set up at those Havens.” He then pulled at his salt and pepper goatee before smacking his lips. “And why are you guys still allowing this?”

Bradford let out a pained sigh as his eyes closed for just a moment too long. A brief memory of weakness flashed behind his eyes — one that caused his eyes to snap back open. Not now. “So far, it looks like his genetic makeup hasn’t been altered like the Hybrids, so he won’t suffer from the poisoning effect.” And he was counting his blessings it would stay that way. “And he’s been a little more cooperative as of late. Still not talking as much as we would like, but much more cooperative.” A sigh slipped out. “Just happy he’s not violent.”

“In-ter-rest-ing.” He mumbled. “Real in-ter-rest-ing.”

A series of psionic pings preceded a loud crash; a worker had plowed into some chairs, knocking them into a table, and some equipment was scattered about.

“Ridiculous… why do they keep trying?” Bradford grumbled. Though he had tried a few times to snatch the alcohol away when it had first started. It was like the man had a sixth sense — and he did — as Bradford always tried to snatch the drink or bottle away when he least expected, but was always thwarted. 

“Think it’s about time we stepped in?” Virgil asked. Bradford nodded.

“You’ve got those collapsable shot glasses on you?” He asked.

Virgil raised a brow but with his hand had fiddled with one of his many keychains around his waist and unhooked two half-inch disks. He raised them, unscrewed one, and popped it open to its full height. “Always got em’. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of…” He didn’t finish his sentence but was smirking.

Bradford nodded. “Want to see if he’ll talk more if we join him.”

Several more psionic pings and another slew of curses made Bradford’s brow twitch. With another disappointed shake of his head, he adjusted his earpiece before letting out a grunt as he marched forward. Virgil followed just behind him.

“That’s enough!” His raised voice made everyone in the room freeze. Everyone, except Kamon, who had just teleported back to a chair and table. Glowing blue eyes focused on Bradford and Virgil as he casually sipped his drink.

“Everyone get out!” Bradford barked. “You know the damn protocols, so why the hell do you even keep trying?”

“Sir! The alcohol poses a ri—” Someone tried to argue back, but he cut them off.

“With the amount he’s had for the past week, and God knows what we haven’t caught, I think he would have gone blind by now and died if he had a Hybrid’s genetic makeup. Now, leave.”

The workers reluctantly left. 

Scanning the room, Bradford shook his head again. It was a mess. Various equipment and medical instruments were turned over. His eyes narrowed when he spied a familiar dampening collar resting on Kamon’s bed. “Really?” He soon grumbled he was going to discipline the idiot who snuck that in. He went over to get the thing and tossed it out of the room.

Virgil made himself busy by cleaning up the mess the best he could. He stumbled across a few bottles hidden under a bed and took a moment to examine them. “Huh, not too much missing ‘cept for these three.” He mumbled before he whistled over to Bradford and waved them. “Looks like our boy has got a sweet tooth and one with a bit of a kick. Warren’s gonna be pissed he found his hot honey mead and the muscadine wine.” He laughed.

Bradford rolled his eyes. Something to worry about later. “Ignore him.” He said a bit under his breath to Kamon.

With the room a little neater, the two finally turned their attention to Kamon. 

“Sorry about that. I know that’s not the best way to start one’s morning…” Bradford was the first to speak as they both went over. He made sure the translation program was going for his tablet and earpiece before placing the tablet on the table, facing the screen away from Kamon. “They mean well concerning your well-being, but their approach is lacking tact.”

Kamon raised a brow as he continued to sip. There was a faint nod and a snort that followed.

Looking at his old friend, his old boss, was hard in several ways. He always had trouble reading Kamon’s mood, as even back in the day; it was always this mixed default plain, to unamused, to disinterested look. A faint funny but painful thought crossed his mind as his fellow Sub-Commanders had trouble reading his emotions for the first month before they finally picked up the subtle changes to his expressions.

 But right now, he wished the man would show just a shred of some other emotion. Happiness. Sadness. Hell, even some anger. But it was just nothing. Was it apathy? Indifference? I faintly recall he had some nerve damage in his face, but he emoted back then even with a bit of struggle. He just wasn’t sure.

Just what did the Elders do to you? Bradford couldn’t help but look at some of the most obvious mutilations his old friend suffered. Besides some light surgical scars found across his body marking the “standard” the Elders held by “improving” or “punishing” various species, from the doctors’ scans, it didn’t look like Kamon was missing any “non-vital” organs. The very mention of that made Bradford and a few other Senior staff shutter as they recalled those alien autopsies and those unfortunate civilians found on those surgery tables onboard the UFOs and those alien strongholds popping up more and more during the Old War.

But the Elders did perform some kind of major surgery on the Commander. Kamon’s left arm was missing above the shoulder black and his right leg was missing just at the knee. It seemed like the Elders had plans on giving him prosthetics, as both areas had visible and hidden integration ports.

Then on the sides of his head, he had these golden diamond-shaped implants, four on each side, and then one last diamond-shaped implant resting at the base of his neck that had one of the standard ports in the center and then some more of that golden metal ran underneath the diamonds. 

And then his face. The man already had scars littering the left side of his face and body, which Bradford had come to learn through gossip was caused by his estranged family, but his capture left him with a few new searing jagged red scars that looked like someone tried to crack his face open.

And I swear he was a little shorter than me back then… still oddly tall for his ethnicity... He couldn’t help but shake the feeling that his old boss was somehow taller. He had yet to see the man stand at his full height due to missing a leg, yet just with how he sat in that chair, it looked like he had grown a few inches. A snort slipped out as a funny thought popped into his mind. Remember, genetics can be weird. Think of Jynn and her brother, Charles. African American and Japanese with a whole lot of other stuff. If you didn’t study their faces, you would never be able to tell they were related. Heh. So must be the Dutch in him.

“Mind if we join ya?” Virgil asked. Popping open the other shot glass he gave both a little shake, causing the metal plates to rattle, and smiled. “We won’t be killjoys like those folk! Hell, it may be more fun chattin’ over drinks! Loosen’ up a bit since, ya know, drinks will make ya spill the truth!”

“Virgil, that’s a little too—”

Two psionic pings rang out. Appearing on the table in bursts of blue light were two wine glasses and another set of bottles.

Both looked at each other before looking at Kamon. Kamon’s expression barely changed. Those glowing blue eyes glanced at them, then the glasses, and back at them, and last, the chairs.

Virgil snickered. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He was already sitting down. Bradford just rolled his eyes and sat down.

Virgil was already grabbing one of the new bottles and reading the label. A snort followed by a loud laugh broke the silence. “Warren’s gonna be pissed.~” He sang. “‘Nother one of his experimental meads. A spicy, spiced berry. One he and Memento have been collaborating on.”

Bradford felt like his eyes were going to roll out of his head before the hour was over. “I’ll contact those Void Walkers to see if they can get him a barrel full of honey or whatever he wants.” He soon grumbled. “And Memento whatever she wants when she’s back with us. Praying no one has killed any of her plants… again.”

The comment about dead plants got Virgil snickering. “Memento wouldn’t have to do any of the threatening if that happened. Warren’s in charge when she’s gone. And just about everyone on here would be after the culprits since it IS nice to have some fresh veggies and fruits not touched by ADVENT and ’em Elder bastards.”

Bradford nodded to that. “Amen to that.”

As Virgil was making motions to open the mead bottle, with a psionic ping, the bottle disappeared from his hand and reappeared next to Kamon.

“What ta hell, mate?” Virgil raised a twitching brow. “Thoughtcha was fine with us—”

Another ping and flash of blue went off inside the bottle, causing the cork to shoot out. Kamon took one last big sip of his drink before setting it down. He then picked up the bottle. To their surprise, he didn’t pour himself more, instead, he looked at Virgil, the glass in front of him, and then gestured for him to bring it to him.

“Oh?” Virgil asked as he raised his glass. Kamon nodded. “Oh. Heh, heh, heh.”

Once the glass was within reach, Kamon poured him a fair amount. He then looked at Bradford and made the same gesture.

Bradford looked at his glass and then that bottle. He could feel that yearning for a stiff drink biting at his throat. Not too much. Don’t need to have that taste drag me to the bar later. Rather have something else right now, but hopefully, this more ‘casual’ talk will make him talk more. “Less than him.” He said as he moved his glass over to Kamon.

Kamon simply nodded and gave him much less than Virgil. With mead in the glass, Bradford pulled it back, but unlike Virgil who had already finished his glass and was back for more asking for the other bottle to be opened, he didn’t touch it. 

Just as Bradford was about to speak, Kamon finally said something in a mix of languages. His voice was still somewhat hoarse and not as deep as it once was.

“››May I have pen and paper?‹‹“

It took a moment for Bradford to get the translation. He raised a brow. A strange request. “Why the request?”

Kamon didn’t reply. He simply tilted his head, like he was asking why right back at him. His expression remained unchanged.

Bradford held in an exasperated sigh that had been wanting to escape for some time. “I’ll do you something better.”

He got up and left the room. It took a few minutes, but he came back with a tablet. He figured that would be much safer than giving him a pen, though the man had shown no signs of violence. That was something they didn’t want to risk. Bradford also had an ulterior motive for choosing the tablet; he could privately link with the device to see what Kamon would be typing.

“Tablet. Note app. You can write with your finger or use the keyboard.” Bradford said as he set it down in front of Kamon.

There was a slight change in expression for Kamon. Psionic energy sparkled throughout his eyes as they narrowed, focusing on Bradford for just a moment before shifting over to the tablet. Setting down his glass, he pulled the tablet closer to him and began to mess with it. His brows scrunched and relaxed several times as he tried to figure out the system. He spent a few minutes testing it out, attempting to write on it with his non-dominant hand, before deciding on the keyboard. 

Bradford slyly activated the remote viewing to see what Kamon was typing. Before he could truly take a look, Virgil nudged him a few times.

“Gonna drink or am I gonna have to drink for ya?” He grinned.

Bradford just glared. “I’ll take a sip.” He finally grabbed the glass.

“A little warning, it’s got a subtle kick to it. Takes a few seconds for the pepper burn to hit the throat.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t exactly believe the warning. 

As he took a sip, he cringed. The mead was much sweeter than he was expecting and much sweeter than he preferred. Not horrible, but would rather be drinking some whiskey right now. May need some later depending on how this plays out. Not how I expected things to go since his rescue. I may be the Acting Commander for much longer than I want. Are the others out there and imprisoned too? More dark thoughts slowly began to enter his mind before he shoved them back into the corner they belonged. 

He unexpectedly cringed again. Just as Virgil had warned, it took a few seconds for the pepper burn to hit the back of his throat. He made a few subtle clicks before a faint grunt slipped out as he tried to fight the growing burn and stifle a cough, but it slipped free.

“Here…” He grumbled as he passed his glass over to Virgil who gladly snatched and dumped into his. 

“Think you’d like the ginger berry one more.” Virgil snickered as he pointed to the bottle.

I’d like ginger beer more than alcohol right now. Wonder if the latest batch is done? Bradford shook his head. “I think I’ll pass until—”

Two psionic pings range out. Bradford’s wine glass disappeared from Virgil’s hand before a clean one appeared on the tablet. And then another bottle appeared on the table, much shorter than the mead bottles.

Wait… is that? Shifting forward, his eyes narrowed as he focused on the new bottle. The label read “Warren’s Special Ginger Beer - Extra EXTRA Strength.” His brows raised as he blinked a few times. Did he…? A worrying thought crossed his mind. He felt no psionic touch on his mind. None of those pinpricks or pushes on his brain before something would try to ensure him. Then again, he had no idea what Kamon’s psionics felt like. Or does he recall something… Can’t say I drank ginger beer back in the day that much… He hated his foggy memories concerning the more “relaxed” times in the old HQ.

“Oh, no gingin for me?” Virgil playfully whined. With another psionic ping, a bottle appeared before him. “Much obliged.”

“So where we left off the last time we chatted…?” Bradford shifted in his seat before leaning forward to use his tablet to bring up his notes from their last session.

Before he did, he caught a glimpse of what Kamon was typing. At first, it looked like gibberish with odd abbreviations he couldn’t decipher and a few numbers until he scrolled down to more legible notes. It looked like he was recording notes on the current meads they were drinking. Kamon had notes for himself and then his observations for Bradford and Virgil. He made a pointed note concerning Bradford’s reaction to the spicy mead. “Seems not to like sweeter drinks. Have to see how he’d like the ginger berry one. If no to that, then he can have the ginger beer. Seems to have an odd relationship with alcohol with how he did not drink as quickly as his friend.” 

Then he noticed Kamon started a new section — “Today’s discussion with this “XCOM.” Whatever day it is. What nonsense will they repeat today to get me to “remember? Unless I’m just hallucinating all of this.”

Bradford did his best to hide a twitching brow. He was going to have to avoid reading those comments to keep himself from saying something he would regret. He is more observant than he’s letting on. And seems he thinks he’s still in that suit… The latter made him mentally sigh. He had a few suspicions that Kamon may have thought they were his captors. He was hoping there was some way to jog his memory and convince him they were not.

“I believe we were talking about some tales dear ol’ Kamon disappearing off to the hanger or to the motor pool to talk with the mechanics and get his hands dirty, to engineering to chat robotics with Dr. Shen, or slipping off to one of the MEC or Shiv workshops to talk to the engineers there.” Virgil said.

“Right, right.” Bradford nodded just as he brought up his notes. “It was your,” he made sure to make eye contact with Kamon, “way of de-stressing after a rather stressful operation or meeting with the Council.”

“Tch.” Virgil scoffed. “Damn that Council and their demands and damn them to hell for betraying us.”

An amused snort came from Bradford. He could agree in several ways. “Remember, there were some reasonable ones. Sadly, that didn’t save them all from being mind-controlled.”

“Right.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Any who…” Setting down the wine glass, he snatched the ginger beer off the table, pressed the metal cap against the edge of the table, and with a quick smack, the cap shot off with a metallic zing. “Let’s talk about ‘em motor pool days. Still can recall a few stories he shared with us when on break.”

Virgil took the lead since he was one of the old senior engineers who bounced between various workstations across the base. It was still a shocker to several of them that the Commander was once the head of a motor pool when not handling other technological things in the Navy when he wasn’t on land. 

As Virgil was taking a deep swig of his drink, a funny memory crossed his mind, causing him to nearly choke. He made sure to turn his head away from them as he spat out his drink and slipped into a coughing fit.

“You alright?” Bradford wondered if he was going to have to smack his back with how hard he was coughing.

Virgil raised a hand. “Good. *cough* I’m *cough* good!” He beat his chest a few times with a firm fist until the last bit of that burn left his throat. “Just ‘membered the story he told of dismantling three whole humvees because he was bored and then wanted to spite his boss at the time cuz they pulled some stupid shit and blamed his whole crew for the f-up.”

Bradford chuckled. “Seriously?” That was the first time he heard of that.

He nodded. “‘Member it all too well since none of us believed him and he proceeded to dismantle one of our humvees, found a few issues, and put it back together. That thing ran leagues better than before.”

Both of Bradford’s brows rose. He tried to recall the memory, but it just wasn’t there. “Wow. I see why he got along great with Dr. Shen and his team.”

Kamon barely reacted to the story. Maybe there were raised brows that happened too quickly for them to notice. 

Bradford caught a glimpse of his notes. “More of these ‘XCOM’ days, but the motor pool incident… that may be true? Not sure. Just foggy… but remember an old boss(before I replaced him) pulled some crap and tried to blame the crew, specifically me because he just didn’t like me. Think I used his words against him in the reaming talk down and report made when dismantling those humvees AND some other things. The look on his face was priceless. At least my new boss had a sense of humor and called him out on his BS. Think they were looking for a reason to ship him off somewhere else…”

Bradford mumbled to himself. Looked like his old boss was remembering things before XCOM even if his memory was still shot. A good sign, but it seemed the man was keeping that knowledge to himself. 

Virgil continued with a few more stories, mixing in the XCOM days with events of Kamon’s past that were shared with him. He brought up a few stories of how he interacted with the Sub-Commanders before each one got shipped off to their designated base, and the annoyances they had to deal with when the Gene Modding program began. He did most of the laughing, followed by a few chuckles from Bradford, but Kamon never made a sound. He just raised a brow, nodded along, or offered Virgil some more mead to drink.

This is going to be another session of nothing. Bradford lamented in his mind. He finally cracked open the ginger beer and started to sip it. The harsh bite caught him off guard for a second, causing him to sputter, but once he recovered, he was drinking it down like water. As most of Warren’s drink-making escapades went, it tasted great. The tingling bite was also knocking away that alcohol craving.

“Raymond wasn’t too happy when one of the prototype SHIVs went missing until he learned it was Kamon who had it.” Bradford interjected when he recognized the story Virgil was talking about.

Virgil was snickering up a storm. “Old doc still wasn’t too happy ‘bout that and warned him to not let it get damaged. But did like that some ‘combat data’ was being reported to fine-tune its detection sensors.”

He let out an annoyed sigh, eyes shook in anticipation of a roll that held itself. “Those with that invisibility gene and legs gene really liked jumping you guys. The vents… why was it always the vents?” Just remembering those incidents made a vessel pop out of his head.  

 Virgil choked mid gulp causing him to sputter before a roar of laughter took it over. He slammed his bottle on the table a few times. “Jynn and Kamon nearly got their skulls cracked from that!”

“The problems with being tall.” He chuckled, but a wistful sigh followed. As quick as the sad feeling came, the memories of how the others dealt with it caused him to crack a smile.  “Thaddeus body-slammed one of the culprits the fourth time it happened. Elli was the luckiest of the bunch, most of the time, she managed to slip out of their grasp before the leap. And that was before she got her dog.”

“Oh, that dog.” Virgil snickered. “How did she even get authorized to bring that silent hellhound to the base?”

“She used to be an animal handler, and it was her dog. Can’t remember the name, but she was very loyal and insanely smart.”

“Surprised nobody got mauled by that Dobermann.”

“There were some cases of bites, but nothing serious.”

Bradford checked back on Kamon’s notes. Seemed like he had become mostly disinterested in the storytelling as his note-taking became sparse and he returned to taking notes on the mead and making pointed suggestions to relay to the brewers. But he noticed something a little curious. From the conversations, Kamon had picked out a few key names and their positions, with some vague comments about each person and several question marks following the statements. To the untrained eye, it just looked like he was jotting down things the two had mentioned, but Bradford noticed there were a few details here and there that hadn’t been mentioned today or any of the days prior.

Thaddeus Seaver - He helped continually secure funding for the aircraft and related research… Last one to transfer to that Australian base. Some experienced soldiers were transferred alongside him for that work-in-progress (???) base, compared to the two others. Opal mines? Possible cash flow??? People will buy anything even with an apocalypse going on. China. The Triad… That artifact and… The note trailed off before going back to more speculation about why that location was chosen to build a base.

Jynn Reeves - She whipped the China base into shape within a… month? Helped boost the translation team’s funding. Helped with the Hong Kong situation, the battleship was a technological boon, and… The note trailed off again and switched to about some issues with getting their Psi Soldier division off the ground and needed some transfers of their tops psions from the main HQ to get that fixed.

Elli Antonov - She hated Ferro. Never got around to the name change. Moved to the African base. The region had an increased rate of captured aliens for interrogation. Helped boost both the Genetics and R&D teams. The notes trailed off, wondering how upset the Elders became when that happened.

Bradford scanned the notes over a few times, making sure he wasn’t imagining things. Seemed like another good sign, but he couldn’t shake a growing feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. He remembers some things, but why isn’t he talking to us? “Hm?” Then he noticed a note about him again in the drinks section.

John Bradford. Central Communication Officer then and now, in addition to becoming the “Acting Commander.” Face is… A new paragraph was started, skipping over the thought. Still avoiding alcohol. Is drinking the ginger beer. Seems to like it. Why avoid the alcohol? Alcohol avoidance? Trauma? Picked up a drinking habit post-Invasion? Who wouldn’t want to forget it all? Hope that liver is okay. Same with any others tapping the bottle. I’m sure that is happening around the ship if not world that isn’t under the aliens’ rule.

Another hm slipped out as Bradford read the latest entry that was still going. For a moment,  he glanced up at Kamon, the man was still typing away, more notes concerning the alcohols he had been sampling since the first time he teleported a bottle into his room and the apology letters he would possibly have to right to the angered brewers.

I think I’m going to have to press it. He opened his mouth to speak.

“››Opinions on the mead?‹‹” Kamon spoke in Dutch. He was looking at them as he gestured to the meads. His eyes were nearly back to their regular state. One was brown and the other, emphasized by his faint cut and burn scars, was a grayish blue.

Bradford chewed on the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t help shake off the feeling psionics were being used, but he still wasn’t feeling anything intruding on his mind. Just the usually nagging conscious of making him doubt XCOM would get their Commander back, where the others were, and the numerous logistical tasks he needed to get to were piling up. Logistics… need to get some raids going and resource gathering. Would love that mind of yours Kamon. You were always good at getting things set up and moving, quickly pivoting if something dire came up. 

“Opinions on the mead?” Virgil repeated the question back a little slowly as his translator took a moment to catch up. He tilted his head back and forth a few times, running his tongue behind his teeth, as he chuckled to himself. “Never thought a hot mead would be pretty nice. Fairly smooth and the burn is just right and doesn’t overstay its welcome. And the cinnamon is a nice earthy touch. Heh, if we ever get our hands on some wild pigs or sum cows,” he paused before cursing the aliens under his breath, “that would go great with some BBQ ribs.” He then made some positive comments about the ginger berry mead.

Bradford glanced down at his tablet as soon as he noticed Kamon was typing again. A new section appeared in the notes, jotting down all the details Virgil was making about the meads.

He got a little too focused until Virgil nudged him.

“Hm?” Bradford glanced up.

“Your turn, bucko.” Virgil grinned.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Kamon was waiting. The notes can wait.  “The first one was too sweet for my tastes. Maybe a splash of aged whiskey would tone it down for me.” He shrugged. “And that heat was weird. Made me lose interest in trying the other.” A partial truth as he overestimated how quickly his body wanted to drink something much harder after the small sip. “Sorry.”

“››The ginger beer then?‹‹“ Kamon nodded to it.

“Hardier bite than expected, but good as always with how Warren makes it.” He said. Kamon simply nodded and continued typing.

Bradford took a peek at the comments again. He was doing the same with him as he did with Virgil, but he noticed Kamon went back to some other notes concerning him.

Truth and a lie. Can… can just sense it. Hidden feelings. Alcohol may be used to forget something more than just the destruction of XCOM. The sullen look is short in quick. He doesn’t like to dwell on it for too long. Family? Friend? Lover? Who or what???

Bradford’s brows knit together as his eye fell into a faint squint. Psionics. Has to be psionics. If so… this is on another level we’ve never experienced. The very thought was frightening. I may need to get Dr. Veer down here and— What the!?  He had taken his eyes off Kamon’s notes for just a second to shoot the doctor a message, but as he came back to the main screen, all that detailed observations about him had disappeared. He scrolled up and down through the notes several times, but all of those more intimate notes were more generic, and likewise for some concerning any potential health updates if the doctors cared to share.

He silently mouthed “The hell…” He barely reacted to Virgil nudging him and asking “What was what?” One more jab made him wave Virgil off and say there was an “error” as he searched a few more times, even going through the history log. Nothing was there but a small time gap. I know I just saw that. He looked back at Kamon. He had finished typing and was pouring himself one of the meads, but had a firm look on his face. One brow was raised.

He’s messing with me. Has to be. Even deleted the history log. How did he figure that out? Such a question was stupid. Kamon was always tech-savvy. Bradford reflexively glared back. An irritation was slowly growing. Why? Is this a test?

“Well, anywho.” Virgil shrugged, seeing whatever was going on was not his problem. “So, around year two, we have just rescued sum UN guy and you and the others were ‘bout ready to—”

The next second a harsh, sharp scrape of a chair sliding made him cringe, followed by a loud bang on the table — rattling the bottles and glasses — nearly made Virgil fall from his seat. As he looked over, he saw Brradford standing up with one mean glare directed at Kamon.  

Kamon stayed calm. “I don’t know what game you’re playing. I know you deleted some of your notes.” Bradford said. Irritation laced his voice. “I’m not dumb.”

The sudden anger stunned Virgil. “The hell you on about, Brady?”

Kamon just shrugged. That got a huff from Bradford.

“I’ve noticed your latest notes.” Bradford double-checked them to make sure he would say the correct things. “You want to know everything we currently know about your health? What the Elders screwed up and tampered with?”

Virgil grimaced. “You sure that’s wise?” Virgil whispered. “We’re still running tests on that and them docs don’t think it’s smart with how his heart raced when he noticed the missing appendages!”

Kamon slowly blinked a few times as his eyes slowly widened. He nodded.

Bradford shot Virgil a glare, which made the man raise his hands real fast and lean away. “Yes. He deserves to know. Especially with all the poking and prodding he’s endured without doctors.” In his heart, it felt right to defy those orders from the doctor. “And just maybe,” he paused as kept a firm glare on Kamon, “you’ll stop your damn games. You know more than you’re letting on. You’re remembering more than you’re willing to share.”

Kamon just tilted his head back and forth a few times before readjusting himself in his seat. That plain face was back once more. 

One more huff came from Bradford before he sat back down.

“Where do you want me to start?” Bradford asked, gruffly.

Setting down his glass, Kamon gestured to his missing arm and then leg. “››Any ideas?‹‹”

“Negative.” He said. He was expecting questions about his amputations would be a top priority. “We’re still trying to figure that out. We don’t know when or why it happened. Have some plans to hit some high-security data centers they may have kept you near to see if there’s any information pertaining to the amputations.” Such operations would take some time to organize since ADVENT would be more active to protect such information since they resumed the Commander. “It looks like the Elders had plans to replace it at some point. Not sure if it would be mechanical or organic, but looks like the former with how that foundation looks.”

Kamon let out a brief mhm as he touched his shoulder. It was currently covered, yet here and there he could feel the cool metal that was embedded in his skin. There was a faint resonance and tingle that pinged against his fingertips due to psionics.

He then turned his head away from them before touching the golden diamond-shaped implants lining the sides of his shaved head. Like his shoulder, he felt that tingle in his fingers and the skin around the implants. “››And these?‹‹“

“We’re still looking into that, but according to our doctors, more or so Dr. Veer, she suspects they are augments for your psionics.“ Bradford said. He didn’t want to imagine how that surgery went and the headaches that followed. “Which, you being a psion, is still a surprise.” A raised brow from Kamon told him he needed to explain. “Some tests have shown you had the markers that would make you a psion and additional tests show the Elders applied their trade of genetic manipulation to express and enhance them.”

Virgil chuckled. “Vahlen would have loved finding out about those markers when she was testing just about every soldier and important personnel.”

Bradford rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He missed the doctor, but remembered how the Psionics Division nearly got out of hand when the testing ramped up. “Kamon would not have let her stuff him into one of those coffins.”

“Well, I think he would have enjoyed a week’s nap.” Virgil playfully teased. “And then if he came out sparking, that would have been a plus. Probably help him keep the soldiers in check a bit more.”

“And Vahlen would have wanted to test the other three.” He shook his head. The thought of all four Commanders having psionic powers and using them to keep the soldiers in line made him chuckle. 

“How… interesting.” Kamon spoke. In English.

It took a second for it to register with Bradford and Virgil. Like I was any other person that said that, they reflexively answered with a “yep.” When it hit, they both froze with wide eyes and mouths nearly hanging open. Their attention was fully focused on Kamon.

“Did he…?” Virgil nudged Bradford. The man didn’t respond. He was looking intently at Kamon, who was busy pouring himself another glass.

Did he just? Is he just messing with us? “Did you just—”

“Spiced Firecracker.” Kamon said the name of the spicy mead. “A simple taste a first with hints of cinnamon before the complexity of the hot peppers strike leaving a slight tingling but satisfying burn at the back of one’s throat and tongue.” He then gestured to the other. “Then the Ginger Berry. A harsh bite at first due to the ginger before the wild berries rear their sweet layered hints to tantalize the tongue. It all goes down smoothly.”

Bradford had to keep his jaw from going full slack. Where was this coming from? Had he been hiding his ability to speak English from the beginning? He was about to speak again, but Kamon continued.

“Both are sweet. One with a hidden bite and the other much more upfront. Both can make you forget how it’s a slow poison if you indulge in it too much.” He swirled his drink a few times, watching the golden liquid twinkle under the medical lights, before downing it. Once the last drop went down, he suddenly slammed the wine glass on the table. A crack shot through the base of it. “Like the damn Elders.” Not only did he growl out the name with an intense hatred, his expression changed. Gritting his teeth, he had a firm sneer on his face, and furrowed brows accentuated his glowing eyes. “The Invasion and the ‘peace offering’. The bite and sweet lies.” He scoffed. He then began to tilt his hand back and forth and roll his eyes.

“Sweet, sweet lies that wormed their way into everyone’s psyche to forget ‘humanities greeting’ to the Elders that ‘tried’ to make ‘peaceful contact’ with this world.” He scoffed again as a series of curses in an alien language came out. “Sweet lies to condition the humans to Their rule. Sweet lies that the Elders would ’share’ Their technology and ‘teach’ humanity how to use it. Sweet lies to make you believe the new ‘truths.’ Sweet lies that ‘saved’ this world from itself. Toa’talos xa’vind… Vok’thalls xa’vind…”

Kamon finally stopped his rant. A psionic ping rang out as he teleported one of the bottles on the floor to his hand and began pouring himself some wine as soon as the cork shot off. While doing so, he was grumbling about the Elders’ fear tactics and how they reminded him of his “parents.”

“What the hell…” Bradford mumbled as his mind was still processing the rant Kamon went on. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy the man was talking in English, seemed to have more memories intact,  and was showing emotion, pissed because he was suspecting Kamon had been hiding things, or concerned that he was drinking much more than he ever had and was angry.

Virgil leaned over and whispered to him. “Think we may need together some psi shields. Can feel that angry prick at me.”

Hit took a second before he felt the same thing. It was faint but felt like thousands of needles wanted to have a go at his face. Then he noticed the faint energy wisps trailing from Kamon’s eyes. “Putting in a request.” He quickly shot a message and included Dr. Marin and Quinn that they may be needed.

With a full glass, Kamon downed it in under a minute and poured another glass, but didn’t touch it. He just swirled it around as the glow in his eyes ebbed and flowed.

“The lies… the lies… So many damn fear tactics those parasites used to control those who were forced to work on me.” He gritted his teeth. “Humans and aliens… sweating bullets whenever they had me under the knife or were plugging me in for another round of those tests, praying I wouldn’t die before they got me back into some system. I wonder how many of them got ‘rehabilitated’ since the process didn’t always go so cleanly.” His eyes closed for a second as a dark chuckle slipped out. “Tch. Can’t say that would be better than getting converted into a Hybrid. Either way, you’re dead in some fashion.” He grumbled as he leaned back in his seat. “Think I died a few times.” He let his eyes aimlessly wander around the room as he sipped on his drink. “Maybe a little more than five times? Eh? Eh?” He shrugged a little too casually for Bradford and Virgil’s liking. Bradford blinked a few times and Virgil turned a shade paler. “ Finally, someone with a heart and some sense came in to stop that. For being such a valuable ‘Asset’ those parasites didn’t exactly treat me like one. Guess They have the mentality of burning through it now and it can be ‘remade’ later into something much better. Tch.” He soon mumbled under his breath. “How did that go with remaking those two poor humans and so many others?”

“You died?” Virgil gawked.

“You recall all of that and dying?” Bradford was equally shocked. He thought Kamon crashing when they pulled that chip out of him was bad enough.

Kamon shrugged. “Yes and no. Can’t faintly recall some concerned comments from the ‘lessers’ that my brushes with death were growing in number.” And some days he wished said brushes would have taken him permanently. “Tch. When the one with the heart came around, I think he fixed me back up the best he could to stop that. Not that the Others cared as They wanted things done to me…” 

His voice trailed off as his mind lingered on that longer than he wanted. He couldn’t exactly recall why it was bothering him, but deep down, as a twisted knot formed in his stomach, he knew whatever the Elders wanted to do to him would condemn him to fate worse than death.

“Whatever that was annoyed the one that fixed me. Especially since the Others wouldn’t listen to him as he explained I needed to recover and that something was missing from me. Something that left me broken. Whatever that meant…” His voice trailed off again. That knot grew; he felt it claw its way up to his throat. He fruitlessly grunted in an attempt to clear his throat. It was something else that bothered him. He couldn’t make heads or tails of what the Elder meant by that,  but he felt it was true. Even now, he felt like something was wrong with his being. Like it was more than just his limbs missing and who knew the other tampering the Elders did to him. It was so much deeper than that, and it terrified him.

Before Bradford or Virgil could get in another word, Kamon went on a lung-bursting rant as he just let it all out. He swapped languages like a fast-spinning roulette wheel as he just cursed out the Elders and everything They were doing to the Earth, how poorly They ran things(and did he tear into their shoddy logistics and forgetfulness), and were unnecessarily cruel to everything They touched.

Bradford and Virgil had to take a step back as Kamon’s psionics became more visible around him and were crackling with intense energies. The psionic sensors went off.

“Yeeesh, where is all this coming from?” Virgil said. “Seemed like he couldn’t recall jack for days…”

“I thought I had some pent-up anger…” Bradford mumbled. He could recall a few times Kamon became angry back in the day, but nothing ever hit this level of vitriol he was displaying. His anger tended to be more on the calm side, which was quite deceiving hiding the broiling anger within. Just a slight sneer and the irritation seeping into his voice was enough to put fear into most of their soldiers and make the Council back off. 

“He’s been aware in that prison…” The very thought of that disturbed Bradford. More things to discuss with the doctors and Senior staff. “He was just… waiting... for the right moment. I think he trusts us now.”

It felt like forever for Kamon’s rant to come to an end and the psionics to dissipate. The two approached with caution, as his eyes were still glowing intensely. The Psionic Division still hadn’t arrived.

Kamon finished off his glass. This time he set it down softly, pulling his fingers slowly down the stem, tracing the creeping cracks, as a heavy sigh came out. His shoulders slumped down. All anger was gone. He looked tired and sad.

“Power hungry, greedy, parasitic ba-bastards.” One last curse slipped out followed by one more mumble. He always had trouble with that word. They’re dead to me, but I do wish they did not suffer during the Invasion. Same with my half-siblings. “Same with those two They broke and remade in Their image… The third born into it. And me…” He didn’t continue, but a grimace formed.

Seeing he was engrossed with his tumultuous thoughts, Bradford cautiously reached for the bottles. To his relief, Kamon did not respond with the usual teleportation nonsense allowing him to move them away from him. 

With hushed voices, Bradford and Virgil were trying to figure out how to break the silence. They were unsure if anything they said wouldn’t set Kamon off. Bradford figures some silence would be good to let the man cool off and could buy the Psionics Division sometime before they got here with the shields.

“John.” Kamon spoke again. An odd firmness and warmth flowed with the name.

Bradford quickly snapped too and looked at him. No anger. No annoyance. There was a smile on his face; no twitching on that side that had the older scars.

“Thank you for being truthful with me and being perceptive. Like you usually were back then, unless it was some new request from the Council and I was already in a sour mood.” He softly chuckled. 

Bradford’s eyes went wide. He remembers.

“Been a long while since I’ve had that since,” he gestured to himself, pointing out all the damage, “you know.”

Bradford gave an understanding nod before catching himself. “How long have you—” He bit his tongue. Refocus. He needed to tread carefully. Raising pressed hands together, he took in a deep breath before sharply hissing and dropping them. “So, you remember me now?”

Kamon nodded. “It took some time… to recall things… and you look and sound different.”

Expected. “Why reveal that now?”

Kamon closed his eyes and sighed. “Had to make sure this was real. Not some dream, me losing my mind, or…” His voice trailed off. He stayed quiet for a few seconds as he looked away. “Just had to test. Had to make sure it wasn’t…” His voice trailed off again. This time, he stayed silent.

“Damn…” Bradford shook his head. Something he needed to let the doctors know. Another layer of trauma that would have to be dealt with in therapy. 

“So, were you pretending you couldn’t speak English?” Virgil couldn’t help but ask that question that was also in the back of Bradford’s mind.

“Actually, I couldn’t remember how to speak it until recently.” Kamon let out a nervous chuckle.

“Seriously?” There was some doubt in his voice.

Kamon nodded. “My best guess is beside the chip you all ripped from my brain, the Elders probably screwed up something in here.” He tapped at those implants. “Or these… psionics.” He fluttered his hands, causing some energy to spark in between them. Unbelievable. “Now, I feel like I’ve got most of my language centers back.”

“Something tells me ‘recently’ was a few days ago.” Bradford said with a twitching eyebrow.

He only smirked, which got a curse out of Bradford.

Bradford leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. He felt several lifetimes of weight lift from his shoulders only for a fresh wave of annoyances and concerns to crash back down and needle at his mind.  He took a few more seconds to recompose himself before looking back at his old friend.

“You are an asshole.” Bradford wondered if they could have skipped all this nonsense if he was less suspicious. Yet, there was a part of him that understood. He could see himself pulling the exact same stunt or being more hands-on.

“I did have my moments back then.” Kamon said with no hint of guilt. Virgil laughed. 

“Glad to have you back.” And he meant it.

“I have a feeling you want to punch me.” Kamon caught a hint of a twitching brow on Bradford. He glanced at Virgil. “And same with you?”

Virgil raised his hands. “Not my rodeo, sir. I’m good!”

“That would be an understatement.” Bradford admitted. “I’m more happy that your mind’s not entirely shot.”

Kamon chuckled. “When I’m back on my feet,” he paused as he glanced down. That nub of a leg twitched. “You guys are cooking up some prosthetics?” 

He nodded. “Yes, for the leg, at least. The arm… That’s going to take more work.”

Kamon nodded. The leg was better than nothing. But he knew it was going to take a long time to adjust to both limbs missing. “Well, when I’m back on my feet, and health is fairing better, I’ll let you throw me around during training.”

“Heh, ha.” He grinned. “Don’t make such a tempting offer.”

They all laughed before silence took over. 

Bradford was hyper-focused on his tablet, updating files left and right. Virgil had left for a bit to take care of the empty bottles. Kamon was off in his own world, sorting through his thoughts until one just wouldn’t go away.

“John.” He said, voice a little faint and hesitant.

“Hm?” Bradford looked up.

“Am I… Am I the only one you guys found?” He asked.

It didn’t take much for Bradford to figure out what he meant. A pained sigh slipped out. “Yes. So far. Haven’t been able to check out the other bases except for one. Jynn and Thaddeus are MIA… Possible KIA for Jynn,” a sigh slipped out, just mentioning her, “as the area the Hunan base was located in is saturated with raw psionic energy. Even ADVENT doesn’t bother patrolling the area. No idea how the Australian base fared.” He still needed to put in a request for the Templars or Void Walkers to investigate those locations for them, especially the Hunan base. “We haven’t come across any data in ADVENT’s Network concerning them. But we could have missed or overlooked the files, as our focus was on finding you.” That was always a worry.

“Mhm.” Kamon nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment as his heart hurt for the two. “And Elli?”

Another sigh came out as Bradford’s shoulders tensed before dropping. “She’s assumed KIA. The Nigeria base has so far been the only one we’ve been able to visit…” He took in a shaky breath as the memory replayed in his mind. “Besides the cave-ins, there were a lot of bodies and blood there. Couldn’t find hers. Just found her nameplate ripped from her uniform, caked in dried blood. And her dog’s torn-up collar.”

“How… unfortunate.” He shook his head. Another pain hit his heart. “Elli was a good woman.” He looked down and away. “Same with the other two.”

“They were.” Bradford said.

“Can’t say I miss her devil dog.” Virgil cracked a joke. Bradford raised a brow and Kamon snorted. “What?” He squinted at Bradford. “That dog was creepy! It got around like a flippin’ ghost and just like to stand and stare!”

It took a second, but Bradford snorted. “Well, her dog was nice to me and only attacked the troublemakers.” He then mumbled under his breath. “She did have a habit of ‘exploring’ and getting into restricted areas.”

“Nyx.” Kamon said. The two looked at him with a raised brow. “Nyx, that was the name of her Dobermann.”

Virgil pulled at his beard a few times. “Sounds… right.” He wasn't so sure. 

“Nyx…” Bradford repeated, letting it roll off his tongue. He nodded. “Smart girl.”

“Terrifying silent demon.” Virgil hissed. 

Kamon snorted again. “I think you’d prefer her bite compared to Thadd slamming you into the ground or a wall. I think he broke a few soldiers ribs besides damaging their equipment.”

Virgil cringed. A memory flashed in his mind concerning some armor that had some alien alloy ended up with a sizeable dent and one experimental weapon broken in half after an incident involving pranking the Sub-Commander. Some of the staff wondered if Thaddeus had undergone secret Gene modding or had the Gene Modding team secretly spiked Thaddeus’ drinks with some Meld to make him as strong as a Muton. “Ya know what, that’s fair.”

Bradford laughed for a second, only for a longer laugh to follow as another old, but good memory came to his mind. 

“Besides breaking ribs, I swear, some days, Thadd was ready to suit up and jump into the cockpit of one of our jets.” Something else to lighten the mood. “Hell, he even wanted to take the Skyranger out for a spin!” He smacked his hand against the table. “Big Sky and the other pilots did not help with edging him on when ‘off-duty’.”

Kamon nodded as a wry smile appeared on his face. “He did miss flying and those knuckleheads didn’t help.  Thadd expressed repeated interest in taking one of the alien ships for a spin if we ever got around to reverse engineering one.”

Virgil snorted. “I remember that. Man, he was ‘bout ready to make a ‘surprise visit’ back to the Main HQ when he caught wind we were working on building one to truly take ‘em skies back from the aliens.”

————————

Their conversations switched over to Kamon wanting to be informed of what had happened all those years while he was imprisoned and how the remade XCOM was fairing. 

Before those discussions could begin, Dr. Marina and Quinn finally showed up with some help in tow. Those psionic shields were no longer needed, but Bradford took the opportunity to let the doctors know of the recent developments, much to their shock.

Kamon apologized for how uncooperative he was by not talking much once they could communicate for all these weeks. It was a mixture of him being suspicious but also defaulting to a state of least resistance he would take when he had those few more-lucid-than-normal moments when he was pulled out of the suit. He couldn’t recall if he ever had a moment of attempting to escape or did something, but he could remember the pain the Elders would bring, ripping apart his mind to silence it back to that small corner once more and force him back into that “sleep.”

That news was another disturbing development to be researched by the Communication and Information teams, and another issue to be addressed for his future therapy. 

After a few, not too intrusive tests and questions concerning Kamon’s psioncis, Bradford kicked the doctors out, as he could tell Kamon just wanted to talk and not deal with tests.

He got back to telling Kamon what had happened over the years and then answered his questions on who else survived the main HQ and sister bases.

The news was rather bittersweet to Kamon learning Raymond Shen was dead and Moria Vahlen was missing. He would have loved to have a conversation with Shen Sr. one last time. The man reminded him of his uncle. He hoped they would cross paths with Vahlen again and that the good doctor wasn’t getting herself and her cohorts into trouble, but hearing she was dabbling heavily into manipulating the DNA of captured alien subjects from what the information of the last correspondence with her contained had him concerned. 

He learned of a few more survivors who were on the Avenger and many who were scattered across the world trying to set up Resistance Cells, but were ready to join back up with the main crew when the time would come. 

 Some of the names Bradford mentioned sounded familiar to him, and others only drew blanks. That annoyed him, but he knew the most likely culprit to that was due to the Elders meddling. He just hoped his memory would eventually return concerning the others. 

————————

“Before we wrap up, I have one last question for you.” Bradford said. 

A few hours had passed, and they were finally concluding their conversation because Bradford felt they had discussed enough and didn’t want to overburden his boss. At the moment, he was helping Kamon get up so he could take him to his bed.

“Yes?” Kamon asked, brow raised. 

“What was with the drinking stunt?” He asked. “Like, seriously, why the alcohol and the teleporting?”

“I wanted to drink.” Kamon answered plainly. Nothing more, nothing less. “I’ve been stuck in that suit for 20 years or so and was parched.”

“Seriously?” Bradford didn’t believe him.

Kamon kept a plain face for a few seconds longer before he smirked. “Maybe that and I was testing things.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Bradford just shook his head. He felt like it was two-fold. He let his grip tighter around Kamon’s side, which made the man yelp.  “Well, you gave the doctors a headache and some damn heart attacks. You’re damn lucky the Elders didn’t screw with your genetic makeup like the Hybrids.” He lightly berated him. “Hybrid blood oxides alcohol into formic acid. You’ll go blind, then die.” Something they learned from the Skirmishers, which was confirmed when they did some investigations into their biology when hitting data centers.

Kamon just chucked. “I think They gave me an enhanced liver instead. I should be drunk right now, since I’ve barely eaten all day.” He could faintly recall his limit was usually about two and a half bottles of wine and the same with the mead. And he felt like some of the stuff he tried had a higher alcohol content than what he would usually drink.

“You should.” Bradford agreed. “You should…” His mind thought of all the biological functions the Elders may have altered for his friend. He prayed nothing was drastic, and it was all positive.

“Bet you would like my new liver.” Kamon joked, nudging him with his hip.

“Don’t.” Bradford let out an exasperated sigh. Mentally he agreed. It was a miracle his liver was still functional before he rejoined the remnants of XCOM. “You and Dr. Veer are going to become the best of friends to make sure you don’t pull a me. We don’t need any more alcoholics on the ship or for the Resistance, for that matter. I’m doing better, but still have my bad days.”

“S-s-s-orry.” Kamon only let out a wheezed laugh as his throat suddenly went dry. 

Once they were by the bed, Bradford set him down. He went back and fetched the tablet Kamon had been using. With a few taps here, and typing passwords there, he lifted some of the restrictions and disabled that link he set up so the man could have privacy.

“I’ll have to unlock some more files later, but here are some dossiers and other ready material so you can familiarize yourself with the ship.” He said as he handed the tablet to him. “And some logistical stuff you can look at... You can have fun double-checking our work.” His mind couldn’t help but recall that rant he went on earlier that was inside of his main rant. And it was right. If the Elders kept up with half of Their resources, XCOM wouldn’t have the Avenger. 

“A new ant farm for me to learn?” Kamon asked, not expecting an answer. He gave a quick look at some of the files and section names. He even opened up a dossier concerning supply drop locations. A brow slowly raised as he saw the litany of locations and the maps marked with various symbols. “Giving me homework already?” Bradford snorted.

A thought crossed Bradford’s mind. “Speaking of familiarizing yourself… how the hell did you know where to get the alcohol and glasses?”

Kamon tapped at his head. “Psionics. Can’t really explain it, but I can kinda ‘see’ or ‘feel’ the layout of the ship in my mind. It’s been kind of overwhelming until I learned how to tone it down. Another reason why I didn’t talk much.”

“Huh.” He wasn’t sure if could recall any of their psions back in the day being able to do that. But there was a lot of information he had to deal with and so much of it got glossed over or lost. “What about the ginger beer? Found that to be too on the nose.”

“Hm…” Kamon’s throat trembled, as he wasn’t so sure about that. “Maybe light mind reading?” He wasn’t sure. “I didn’t force myself into your mind. I just felt it.”

“That’s... interesting.” He never felt anything and only felt something when Kamon had his outburst, but even that wasn’t actively trying to pierce his mind. “The Psionics Division will have fun figuring that out with you.”

Kamon shook his head. “I just know Moria would be badgering me with tests right now if she was here. I can hear her saying, ‘you should have let us run those tests back then,’ right now.”

That made Bradford give a hearty laugh. “If… when we find her, I can see her doing just that.”

Bradford gave his friend a few hearty pats on his shoulder, told him he’d have the doctors bring him some food, and that he would be back later in the day before bidding him goodbye.

Until the doctors swung around with his food or for more tests, Kamon busied his mind by reading all unlocked files that dealt with the detailed workings of the Avenger and her crew. It felt like his induction into XCOM all over again. Those memories were a scattered mess, but he recalled having to read documents, upon documents, upon documents of information — with some having heavy redactions — besides having to quickly familiarize himself with how the organization should operate and those who would die under him. 

“Here we go again. Feel like I’m back in school needing to study for some impossible exams.” He mumbled as his eyes scanned through the layout maps of the ship. He could already see a few places that needed improvement. He eventually drifted over to the information concerning raids and Faction meetings. Those needed work, too. He snorted. “Time for another go. Just can’t underestimate those parasites again. ”

[factorialsotherfandoms]

music, 7?

Definitely actually the song you picked out and not another off the list shhh

xcom!au, but er. Should be readable whatever.

Missa lies on the bed, listening to the storm overhead. There is no poison in this rain, but he cannot help but remember when there was. Days and nights in the Wasteland, hunted in every direction, surviving only by the grace of their one-armed guide...

And, even before then - even when there was no warship overhead, dropping canisters of then-unknown origin onto the streets...

"Missa?" an exhausted voice asks. "What's wrong?"

The war is over, now, and Missa lies in Philza's arms. They have two beautiful children, asleep in the next room, and they are back in Rose's Garden. Back in that haven they found so many years ago, but this time...

"Missa?" Philza asks again, a little more worry in his voice.

In the darkness, Philza's eyes are voids.

"Philza," Missa calls his husband's name.

"I'm here," the promise is whispered into Missa's neck. "Is the rain hurting you? Need me to fuck it up?"

It hurts Philza, Missa knows that. It hurts him, too, both of them now scarred by the Ethereal's hands. Philza, down his back, and Missa...

Warp hands massage against the scars. Those same hands are the ones that saved him, again and again, as the aliens kept coming, kept singling him out, kept getting too close too fast and leaving Missa unable to adjust. In the end he had been useless, but as a worry to Philza.

And yet, Philza stays.

"You cannot fuck up a storm," he replies instead.

"I could try."

"Hm," Missa leans back into Philza's touch, ever confused as to what the man possibly sees in him, and yet unwilling to retreat.

The silence lasts a little while, long enough that Missa begins to doze. Philza's breath is warm on his neck, and the only other thing that Missa could ask for is for his brother to have made it to the end alive.

There is Ramón, his nephew of sorts, and there is Fit, and he has repaired things with Roier these days, but...

"What's the matter, mate?" Philza's words should be scathing, but instead they remain soft. "What's wrong?"

Missa looks at the rain against the windows, and remembers another rainy day. Of air raid sirens and of his brother dragging him not to a shelter, but to a car, and out of town.

They stayed with Roier, and then all three Quackity, and then-

"I want to go home," Missa whispers.

Here is home, now, of course here is home, with his husband and his children, and a portal that can lead them to the homes of any one of numerous friends.

Here is home, here is /home/.

And yet, and yet.

"Awh, mate," Philza hugs him a little tighter. "I think we all do, yeah?"

But their homes are, as Philza would say, fucked up. They have both seen what has become of the cities, of the places they both grew up. Philza abandoned his long before the war; if he also misses it...

But it's not just he city, is it?

It's Missa's parents, and his brother, and a world where death had never come from the sky. It's the simple problems of trying to hide his facial scars before going to school in the morning, and only making things worse. It's when his biggest problems were a black eye from a playground fight, and somehow managing to fail his Spanish exam.

It's a life where none of this happened, where nothing went wrong and everything was okay.

It's also a life without his Philza.

And yet... Still he repeats it "I want to go home," a sob in his throat as he says it. "Philza, I want to go /home/."

And Philza turns him around and holds him to his chest and is also crying as he says, "I know, Missa. Fuck, I- I know. I fucking know..."

Home is gone and home is here and Missa would not give up Philza or Chayanne or Lullah for the world, and yet, and yet-

He isn't sure what.

He just hopes that Philza understands.

And in their unified tears, he thinks that - perhaps - he might.

[heljay]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Characters: Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Non-Binary Character, Thin Man (XCOM), Ethereal (XCOM), Sectoid (XCOM) Additional Tags: Character Death, OC death, mention of infant death, POV First Person, Unreliable Narrator, Humanity's Love for Aliens, Ancient Space Hitler Realizes Maybe Invading Earth was a Bad Idea Summary:

In the final strike that defines the Elders' victory over XCOM, a small group of alien traitors, the operative who captured them and the Ethereal One playing along with their insurgency escape the base. While one of their own lies dying, that Ethereal watches the others try their hardest to save his life, and from the ensuing small tragedy does he understand what he and the other Elders foolishly overlooked in their decision to conquer by force.

[companionwolf]

Out of my like. 40 XCOM 2 AUs/verses, only 10 don't have an associated fic. Out of those 30 fics, I have 3 totally done and 8 are actual WIPs while the rest either just have scraps of writing that'll get redone or nothing at all yet.

[areindeerlime]

@asunder-aim

You get isekai'ed into the last fanfiction you WROTE

Reblog for sample size or perish

[hibiscusgardendragons]

I realized I made this account with the purpose of yapping about my writing. Then I never actually did that, so here we go!

Right now, I've got two WIPs:

The corpse knight (heavy wip title from back during its idea stage): This is the one im really devoting to my time and energy to. I started a couple of weeks back, but the idea has been kicking around now for months. It's somewhat angsty lesbian romance between a traumatized and guilt ridden immortal knight and the sweetheart princess she swore to protect.

- im about a third of the way done with it, and I'm debating whether I finish the whole thing before I post it, or if I finish the first 5 chapters, edit, and post them before moving to work on the rest.

Unnamed XCOM 2 fic: This one has been shoved onto the back burner for a bit. It is a femslash between the commander and a trooper onboard the avenger and the stress of the war as they try and fulfill their duties without losing the other.

I am also thinking of, for purely self-indulgent reasons, writing a genderbent femslash fan fic of the story of the Unleash the archers album abyss. I adore the idea of sad doomed lesbians kissing as the world ends around them. Outside of that, I have plenty of oc works i could do, and im also thinking of writing fics for frostpunk, Tomb Raider, maybe warframe, and a few others.

[themorrignasystem]

⭐️ Tell us about your favourite OCs! ^_^

Alright im in a good enough mood to answer this finally

So

MTG

Thane, Mad Artificer: an artificer from Zendikar, went insane, and built mechanical eldrazi, their spark activated when they went insane, their spark was stolen, then they were banished to the blind eternities

Jess, Perfected Pupil: an artificer who was thane's pupil, eventually was revealed to be a phyrexian, and now is Jess, Army Artifcer- non Planeswalker but can access planes through artifice

XCOM

My headcannon for the Commander is she became a M.E.C between Xcom enemy within and Xcom 2. Wields a sword and big ol shield, wears a knight helm

40K

Machina Furem: a deranged Techpriest ascended himselves to godhood, fledgling machine god

Buffy belmont: a Techpriest who is from Lucius, and uses his shiny head to bounce his psyker powers. Has pysker powers of sunfire

Zipzap Stormscrapper: a rat that was genetically modified by the Cult of the Mechsiah Mechancius apon Bellator machina to be a Genestealer partitrach. Has lightning and rat based psyker powers

The 🅱️ages: 4 demonic entities of chaos:

The Book bage: a Tzeench/Slanessh Bage who is an avid fanfic writer, their powers can manifest fic tropes

The Bonk bage: Tzeench/khorne: 9 hands 8 brass knuckles, wiry and fit, strives for self improvement of both the muscle and the mind, fights like star platinum by throwing alot of quick jabs

The bong bage: nurgle/Slanessh: 7 strands and 6 delivery options, essentially just the ultimate weed dealer

The bomb bage: Nurgle/Khorne, really autistic about nukes and bombs, grows a garden of landmines and bouquets of grenades

INFEGEDDON

My video game

Samuel Guini: a vampire beach bum, pun on Sanguine, is sadly allergic to garlic and can't enjoy good Italian cooking nowadays, survives off of pina coladas and blood

Thane: 8ft tall drauger (undead cyborgs of the Ko'Tun) Ko'Tun that defects from the Ko'Tun after she went berserk.

[partly-cloudyskies]

tagged by @big-meows always happy to talk about mah storeez

How many works do you have on AO3?

29. seems like a lot, where does the time go?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

630,542 where??? time??? go??????

3. What fandoms do you write for?

lessee we got ur ducktales, ur gundam with from mercury, night in the woods, amphibia, outer wilds, xcom and deltarune. man i really forgot about that single xcom fic i wrote. i really did intend to write something in that fandom. i still might maybe idk

4. Top five fics by kudos?

There Will Be No Dancing i've always been really happy with this one. i feel like I really caught the energy of the characters. i'm glad people seemed to catch that energy y'know

Hypothesis i wrote this almost immediately after deltarune came out i think it was like the 2nd one with that pairing and i always kind of felt like it got kudos mostly cuz it was so early. i mean it's not bad but idk, i think it just got out the door early and that's why it got attention. my favorite part is the bit with berdly

Under the Shadow of the Snack Falcon the first fic i posted when i started writing fanfic again after, like, over 20 years. i'm glad it's in the mix

Orbits imo this is my most, like, technically accomplished fic. in terms of structure and theme and that. there's another outer wilds fic i wanna write. been sitting on it for a while. hope i get to it someday!

Rite of Spring my night in the woods magnum opus (that i completed, sorry glass factory). i named it after the stravinsky ballet. i felt like it was thematic, idk. i really had fun writing for lori

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try to. i mean people make a stink about comments being important so i try to reply to the ones i get, even if it's something innocuous like 'thx for reading!'

some fics i don't respond at all and it's usually cuz of any number of badbrain circumstances i am under at the moment. always feel a lil bad about that. not enough to make a stink of it, bad in the sense that you see a banana that you left out too long and now it's all brown and mushy. that kind of bad

well, all any of us can do is try

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

the view from mars, i suppose? or maybe it's monument. or quests! i kind of liked quests.

view from mars is kind of a bog standard teen crush melodrama, but i liked writing the girls from amphibia so i thought i'd give it a try. would like to do another amphibia story someday.

monument is an outer wilds fic, so everyone dies (spoilers i guess) and it's about, like, your work outliving your life and then even your work eventually disappears and then what's left? and maybe asking what's left isn't even the right question. you know. existential stuff. play outer wilds

quests is me indulging myself cuz i have a thing for pairings where one half is gonna have to take care of the other half and like, is lena really up for that and what happens when she gets in over her head cuz webby gets in over her head. idk i'm too much of a sap to take this to its angstiest conclusion and it gets resolved p quickly which might make it seem a little pat but the story did what i set out for it to do so i'm cool with it

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

there will be no dancing, probably. it's got a pretty sweet ending. just don't read the stories in the rest of the series. it's fine it's cool

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not that i've seen. i did see a comment where someone was asking a leading question like they wanted to get into some Discourse but i just ignored it and nothing came of it and we all lived our lives

9. Do you write smut?

ya when the notion strikes. if we're examining the ways characters interact with each other sex is one of those ways and it'd be weird to exclude it over all the other imo

10. Craziest crossover?

i never actually tagged this is how we grow as a crossover huh. but @big-meows was the one to initially conceive of a stardew/ducktales crossover so i ain't taking credit. i guess the only other option is red brithright, my current wip: star wars and witch from mercury

it's not really a crazy crossover tho. they're both sci fi franchises that started in the 70s and prominently feature protagonists with complicated relationships with their parents and have laser swords. kind of an obvious crossover

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of. it's hard to know if i'd care even if someone did. i guess i'd be miffed if someone were making money off of it somehow

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i have had requests, never saw if they actually did it but i always said yes

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i've had some beta-ing but idk if i'll ever co-write. i've got a pretty light presence in fandoms so i doubt i'll get involved in anything more collaborative then, like, prompt weeks

14. All time favourite ship?

idk man i mean i wouldn't devote days of writing to any ship unless they were my all time fave to some degree. weblena's always gonna have a place, sulemio is the new hotness but i think there's something enduring in it. i'll always have a soft spot for barrisoka

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i like to think i'll finish all wips eventually. yes i know that's dumb but i still like to think it

16. What are your writing strengths?

idk i like to think i'm p okay at juggling an ensemble. like when there's a lot of characters and giving them all a little moment to characterize themselves. even if it's just a single line. i hope that comes across. and i love to have a sense of place, like an environment that feels authentic. i love a good place and want others to feel like they can see it. who knows if that works

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i think i tend to get bogged down in details to the point where i have to step back and ask myself if i've lost the thread of the story. like i'll get preoccupied with how characters get from point a to point b when that shit don't matter

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

don't think i've ever done

19. First fandom you wrote in?

starcraft. used to be part of a writing group that did varying degrees of starcraft. all ancient history by now

20. Favourite fic you've written?

hm. probably there will be no dancing. like yeah again i feel like i was pretty on for that one. punchy and funny and written deep in the perspective of the pov character. i really do wish i could keep that kind of writing for long projects! but alas

if you see this feel free to do your own!

[etherealvoidechoes]

“Are you even the real you? Or are you just some elaborate body double? A mockery of the Commander? A mockery of an old friend?”

Something all my Commanders do not want to hear, do not want to think about, do not want to find out, do not want it to be true.

What's the one insecurity your OC would be devastated to have used against them?

Bonus: do people know this about them?

[etherealvoidechoes]

Rage Against the Dying of the Light Pt 1 of 4

Commander Thaddeus Seaver had been rescued by XCOM. The process of removing him from the stasis suit begins with a rough start. Things only grow worse once he wakes up.

Weird how a sickness made me hyperfocus on this. Just hope I can transfer this over to other endeavors.

So a fic for my other Commander, Thaddeus Seaver. His rescue and awakening have been haunting my dreams for a bit. So here's a 4-parter.

The usual warnings for blood, violence, and language. Some suicidal thoughts and attempted misguided murder.

Ao3|| FF.net|| Fic Wiki Hub

1(You are here)||2||3||4

------

The fog in Thaddeus’ mind was slowly lifting. Gears slowly clicked into place and turned. All so painfully slow. He always hated the feeling of his consciousness trying to reassert itself after being pulled from the System for a check-up. There was a faint buzzing in the back of his mind. How long would he be himself before They crushed his consciousness back into that dark corner or rifled through it again to find something from the past?

What fresh hell awaits me this “check-up?”

Yet… Everything felt off. 

As more sensations turned on, he could perceive his surroundings. Everything around him shook and rattled. He felt himself being lifted a few times and each time he was set down there was a solid thud. They were never this rough when moving him around. He was a prized asset. 

And then their voices. It was always muffled in the Stasis Suit, but he could tell whoever was handling him sounded rushed. Almost panicked. 

“Bring him over here!” An older female voice said. “And everyone else, clear out! I want this place as sterile as possible!”

“John, you need to get yourself checked out.” A male voice said.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” A male voice gruffly replied. “Barely a scratch.”

“Barely a scratch? They got your back! You’re freakn’ bleeding!”

“For the love of… Get your butt over there and get treated, John! You were shot, for God’s sake!” The female voice chastised him. 

“Doctor Tyler…” 

They nearly got into a cursing match until she reminding him, “you want to be alive when we pull him out?” That silenced him.

As he listened, he noticed they all sounded… human. That was different.

Some rebels found where you were keeping me? Or is it another fault in the system? Another screw-up with my health? Hope the feedback kills me this time.

If there was another fault with his health, he knew They would do everything to keep him alive. All the experiments and modifications. What was even left of him?

He felt the movement come to a slow stop before he felt himself being lifted once more and moved.

“Carefully! There’s potentially decades of atrophy to contend with!” There was another voice. Male. He sounded much calmer and more level-headed than the others. 

“Wish we had more time.” A young female voice said. There was some faint stress in it.

He then heard the faint clicking. Must have been the connection ports on the suit.

Hm. Human. One who values their life since they’re having to remind everyone of my state. Come on, eyes, get that sensation back already before they suppress it fully…. Wait… that’s off.

Though his body felt numb and distant from him, he could tell the usual suppressants to keep him down weren’t flowing through his system. Recalling the clicking, he waited for his body and mind to be taken from him again. But nothing happened. But that faint buzzing in the back of his mind didn’t fade.

“I don’t disagree. But as it stands now, we risk losing the patient if we don’t being the removal procedure immediately.” That male voice spoke again.

Something is wrong. Catastrophic level. Must be dire if they are slipping up and missing steps. I may have a chance before one of the Elders shows up… Come on body…

Exerting what strength he had, his eyes scrunched together several times until they cracked open, only to slam shut due to a bright light. He went through the same motions again, this time opening his eyes more slowly so they could adjust. As they did, everything was a hazy blur before his vision cleared. Red glass greeted his eyes as well as a silhouette on the other side of it. He could feel the person touching the mask, clearing it of the liquid and fog on the outside.

Older male with glasses. And a young female. Don’t recognize the faces. Thaddeus made notes in his mind. But why should he care? Not like he’d remember any of them again once he was back under.

“Okay, all non-essential personnel have been removed. This place isn’t as sterile as I would like, Tygan.” Dr. Tyler said. “I wish we had more time to prepare. Who knows if the Elders have been keeping his immune system healthy?”

Thaddeus heard someone faintly curse in the background before muttering that never crossed his mind.

“I don’t disagree, Tyler. Do you have the injections prepared? Just in case…?” Dr. Tygan asked.

“Prepared and maintained months ago. Have to see if I can get the Medical team to make an isolated suite for him once we get him out of this suit.”

“Good. A wise plan. Let’s also send any and all vitals monitoring data currently being pulled from the suit to the team.”

He felt another click, followed by a twist and a lock to the side of the helmet.

“We’re ready.” The young female voice said.

There seemed to be a pause as Tygan was examining something. 

“Good. Then let’s get on with it.” The gruff male voice was closer than before.

“John…” Tyler nearly hissed. “You should be in the Infirmary. That patch-up isn’t—.”

“I’m fine, doctor.” But a stifled grunt following that statement said otherwise.

Tch. Someone’s stubborn. Thaddeus chuckled in his mind. With how militant they are, would guess they’re an Officer, but don’t have that flanging voice. Unless the Elders are trying to make ones that sound more human.

And he got his answer as the man came into view. Another human. Older. Face matches the attitude. Can’t say I don’t like it. 

Tygan’s hand moved around the helmet, one sitting dead center on the helmet. There was a click, then a high-pressured hiss as air escaped.

If he could have hissed, he would have as the faceplate to the helmet was removed and the full unfiltered light hit his eyes. And the pressure change made his ears popped. And that buzzing sensation spiked for a moment.

More protocols are being skipped. Yeah, something is wrong wrong. That buzzing is getting stronger. Feeling the feedback. They didn’t disconnect me properly.

“Remarkable.” Tygan said.

“Just like 20 years ago...” Bradford said. There was a faint waver in his voice. A mix of excitement that the Commander, his friend, was alive. But also pain as memories of the past came to the forefront of his mind.

“Move back, please.” Tyler nearly shoved Bradford out of the way.

He grumbled before continuing his thought. “… we were still calling it a war back then. We had no idea what was coming.”

It took some time for the pain in Thaddeus’ ears to fade; the buzzing stayed the same. As it did, his eyes fluttered open, nearly sealing shut again as another bright light shined in them. With a few blinks, he adjusted to all of it.

“His pupils are dilating and tracking just fine.” Tyler said. “And… hm.”

Now he had a better look at her. All of them, but he focused on her. Pale to fair skin. Black hair. And she wore red-tinted glasses that were hanging halfway off of her face.  She looked to be the only one wearing a face mask. Looked like someone cared.

“Hm?” Tygan pressed.

“You’ll see.” She took a step back.

Tygan’s eyes lit up before he leaned in. “I see.”

Shock was apparent on Bradford’s face. Tyler had to put a hand on his chest to keep him from leaning in too far. “What the hell? These scars… His eyes… His eye.”

Though it had been 20 long years since Bradford had seen Thaddeus last, he remembered the Commander’s scars. Three slashes on the left side of his face. Got them in a knife fight. Two were just on the corner of his lips, bother starting from his chin and one nearly going to his nose, and the third was the corner of his jaw going halfway up his cheek. And the other scar was on the right side of his face. Scattered scars caused by a glancing bullet. They started at the corner of his jaw and went halfway up and across his cheek.

Yet there were new ones. A vibrant red slash of a mark trailing across the bridge of his nose and face. Bradford’s mind quickly figured the Muton that nearly cracked his skull open caused that when he was captured. But the other one was shocking. Twice over. His eyes. Both eyes had a few dark red scar-like tears underneath them. And his left eye… the sclera of his left was pitch black while the iris was blue and glowing. The other eye looked normal, with a light hazel brown iris.

“Doctors…” Bradford turned to them.

“It’s not an immediate worry.” Tyler said.

“But it has been noted.” Tygan added. “Let’s see his other vitals. Lily. Tyler.”

“We’re monitoring.” Both answered in unison.

Guess the Elders didn’t warn them that They did a number on my face. Sometimes he wondered if he still looked human.

Feeling that buzz in the back of his head grow, Thaddeus closed his eyes tightly as the faintest of grunts came out. For a moment, everything went black as a memory forcefully shoved itself to the forefront of his mind. Memories of the past. The War with the aliens. XCOM. The main HQ. What was happening around the world.

It all flashed by at a sickening pace. He could feel the old stress reverberate through every part of his body.

Ugh… the feedback.

As quickly as it all came, it faded. The world and his vision came back.

“… response from the cerebral cortex. Good. Prepping for cranial intrusion.” 

He barely caught the words of Dr. Tygan as he came to again. But what he saw next caused another set of memories to come crashing in. The device the doctor had raised, activated, and brought to his face, reminded him of what had happened 20 years ago when the aliens had him.

They had him. Body immobilized in some alien surgery table. There was an Elder there. Or were there two? It didn’t matter. The Elder was scouring his mind, keeping it subdued as they gave instructions to a Thin Man. It held a device just like the doctor, more alien in design. They brought it to his face, opened his mouth, and inserted it. The moment he felt it pierce the back of his throat, he felt his mind fully being arrested from him. His prison for the next 20 years.

His mind stayed on the memory for an uncomfortable amount of time. He was barely conscious of what this Tygan was doing but could feel he was examining his mouth and making incisions.

“… I’ve managed to identify the connection. Different from the standard practice… Preparing to make the final incision.”

Thaddeus felt the cold metal touch his tongue and press further back before it suddenly stopped.

“These readings are getting really erratic.” Shen said, voice laced with concern.

“Of course they are. These—” Tygan said. Before he could continue, Tyler butted in.

Tyler cursed under her breath. “I’m seeing some sort of feedback on his nervous system. Pathways across his brain are lighting up. The abrupt removal from the System must be the cause…”

“There is that possibility, too. These implants were never designed to be removed. Especially his…  We are risking severe—”

“No Plan B here people.” Bradford cut them off. “Do it!”

As Thaddeus came to again, the doctor had another similar but different colored device in his hand and inserted it. He felt a pinch and then a pull. With that pull, he felt a surge of electric pain course through his body as whatever it was was pulled out. As it passed the threshold of his mouth, he felt the oppressive buzz in the back of his mind disappear. His thoughts felt… freer. But only for a moment, as more memories came crashing through.

They jumped back and forth during those long few, painful years of the War and the World submitting to alien rule. The cities wiped off the map. The millions killed. The peace treaties. The formation of this ADVENT. The bases under attack. The explosions. Fires. That smell. That Muton that rushed him. He barely deflected two strikes before the third found his face. The whole world came crashing down that day.

Then his mind flashed forward. To his imprisonment in this Tactical Network ADVENT used. It jumped from ADVENT soldier to soldier, their viewpoints as they oppressed the world. Then his mind jumped again. To several instances when the Elders would pull him from the system, from out of the suit to experiment on him and pull at his mind. He spiraled down, down, down.

“Doctors!” Shen yelled. The vitals looked worse.

“This was a possibility… the feedback is growing worse.” Tyler said tersely.

Thaddeus let out a yell. His back arched as he rose from the table as that strangled yell came out. It sounded sounded like two beings were screaming as one. Something inside was breaking. Then everything went black.

That startled everyone.

All the vitals spiked before they crashed. His back hit the table with a hard thud. A long eerie beep filled the room as the doctors worked to bring him back.

“No signal…” Shen said.

“No, no, no…” Bradford muttered. How he wished he could do something, but it was out of his purview. “Come on Thadd, you can beat this.”

For Thaddeus, everything was still dark. Like a void had swallowed him. Body, mind, and soul. But he felt something. Something reached out to him. It felt familiar, but cold at first. As it enveloped him, it became a warm embrace.

No. He felt his voice in his mind. A series of his voice in different tones and then another. One that sounded more alien as it had a wispy echo to its voice. Now is not our time to die.

He could see it, faintly piercing through the darkness. A ghostly four-armed form reached out to him. He felt something click and connect in his mind and body, weaving together that something that broke just as everything went dark.

It is not our time. Stay strong. Endure as I have. Endure till we meet again.

Then he felt more connections. Other voices. They sounded both human and alien. He too could feel them reinforcing what the other was doing to his body and mind. No. It is not time for you to perish. Let his work be for naught. Let their work be for naught. Rise again, human. Rise again, Ethereal one. This world still has a chance at freedom. Before the Broken One finds and consumes your world.

Then he felt one more. Or was is it two? Either way, they were cold. Very cold. Like the deep abyss of the ocean. He felt this connection sweep around him, drowning that warm embrace as it touched his body in several places. Then something caressed his head. A whisper soon followed.

The ichor flows. I taste the pain. He tastes your pain and the same with your world. The voice shifted to the other side of his head. Will you embrace and choose life? The voice shifted again to the other side. Or find release from your torture in oblivion? 

He felt this voice grow closer until he felt those other connections suddenly snap at it and push it away. 

Away with you. Sad, twisted thing.

Before it was fully pushed away, it parted with one last thing.

Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

As the feeling surged through him, it all faded. The world was coming back. Thaddeus let out a series of pained gasps.

 That eerie, droning beep was replaced by a more steady one. The tense atmosphere in the room had faded.

Thaddeus’ eyes fluttered open again only for him to close them. Or attempt to as a hand forced them back open.

“… pupillary response normal. Vitals stabilizing. Procedure complete.” Tygan said. A smile graced his face.

A faint grunt left Thaddeus’ lips as soon as the doctor’s hands were off his face. He slowly shook his head. It took him a moment to realize he could somewhat move. He was usually more immobilized than this.

“Told ‘em  it would take more than that to keep you down.” Bradford said. He shifted to look at the man. A faint smirk graced his face. Just who was he? “Welcome back… Commander.”

Commander? Does he know me? He couldn’t recognize the man’s face or voice. No, no, no… this could be an elaborate trick by the Elders. Wouldn’t be the first time They forced a “rescue” scenario in my mind to break me.

Thaddeus studied his face as long as he could, trying to connect him with someone from the past but nothing ever clicked before he passed out again.

“Let him rest.” Tyler said. “His vitals have stabilized, but his neural pathways are quite sensitive. I’m picking up faint psionic readings too.”

“I will, doctor.” Bradford rolled his eyes. “I’ll pay a visit a few hours after you guys have moved him. Need to prep some things for him to read.”

“Sounds good and—” She paused as she caught what he meant. “Not so fast with that.”

“What now?”

“We will have to piecemeal that information. He’s been stuck in that prison for 20 years. We have no idea what his mental state may be. Hell, we don’t know just exactly what the Elders did to him besides the theories!”

Bradford wanted to roll his eyes. “I know. I’m not going to share sensitive information with him. I know how that could make him spiral. It’s just the basics. I’ll have Dr. Veer go over it and talk to you.”

Tyler opened her mouth before slamming it shut. “Fine. Fine. I’ll be waiting for her contact. And get your butt to the Infirmary so they can treat your wounds.”

Bradford was about to talk back, but a solid shove from Shen cut him off.

“I’ll make sure he gets there!” Shen said. “Come on uncle~” She said. She faintly giggled when Bradford told her to watch the shoving. “I’ll keep you guys in the loop as I go over the details we pulled from the suit.”

“Thank you, Shen.” Tygan said. “We will be out of your Workshop shortly once the team gets here with the gurney so we can more him to the sterile room. Once we have removed the patient from the suit, we will be sending it down to the Labs. Your workers can collaborate with mine.”

“Got it, doc!”

With a few more shoves, Shen got Bradford out of the room and upstairs to the Infirmary before heading back to her Workshop. As she reached the Workshop, the doctors were moving the Commander out and up to the Infirmary.

———————————————

The Infirmary. They had cordoned off some space in the back to act as the “sterile room” for the Commander. 

At the moment, they were moving from the gurney onto a more advanced medical bed. They connected various tubes and wires to the suit to take his current vitals before disconnecting everything. All was looking good.

Now they just had to remove him from the Stasis Suit. They hoped this task would be much calmer than what had happened when they removed the chip. Thaddeus was still unconscious.

Much to the doctors’ annoyance, Bradford was poking his head in now and then while he was getting his gunshot wounds treated. Eventually, Tyler relented and told him he could enter after his treatment was done, he was fully sterilized and wore some PPE. She figured since he knew Thaddeus well, perhaps he would pick up if anything was off with his body that the files they recovered from old Archives wouldn’t tell. He had pointed out the scars and discolored eye earlier. 

And perhaps this would keep the Acting Commander calmer and keep him from interrupting their work.

“Lift him carefully. We still don’t know the level of atrophy his body has suffered.” Tygan said.

“Let’s get the bottom section of that helmet off.” Tyler said.

With a few clicks and some more hissing, the bottom half of the helmet opened and began to disconnect.

“What the…” Tyler noticed something interesting. “Tygan, get over here.”

“Hm?” He came over and peered over his shoulder. Both brows raised. “That is… unexpected.”

“I’ve never seen something like this. Or the implants.”

As she was pulling away the bottom half, there were several tendrils connecting Thaddeus to several ports inside of the helmet. They looked organic, a translucent fluid dripped from them as they faintly wriggled. And then, towards the back of his head, there was something faintly golden. Until the helmet was removed, she couldn’t get a better look at it.

“They line up to the ports one would find on an ADVENT Hybrid.” Tygan took note.

“Correct. Still, I have never seen anything like this. How are we going to remove this? I don’t want to cut them just in case that could cause issues.”

“Hm.” Tygan examined them for a while longer. “Continue the removal process. Perhaps they will disconnect once enough tension is applied.”

Tyler just nodded and continued.

As she did so, the tendril tensed, pulling back against her for just a moment before releasing their grip on the helmet. As they did so, they retreated back into Thaddeus’ flesh, sealing the hidden ports like they never existed.

“Full body scans are in order once he’s out of this. And let’s check the data banks for any info on these kind of implants.” Tyler said.

Bradford entered the room just as Tyler had pried off the helmet and they were starting to open the suit. He didn’t catch what they had initially witnessed with the tendrils, but noticed something more shocking to him.

“What the hell is wrong with his neck?” 

Wrapping around the majority of the back of Thaddeus’ neck, partially creeping towards the front, was a massive gnarled scar. The flesh was a mix of red and pink tones. That wasn’t there 20 years ago. If he recalled correctly, a tattoo was there. Flowers. He couldn’t recall the type of flowers, but he remember they were flowers there in the past.

“And what the hell is that!?”

Then the other thing that caught his eye was more concerning. One just below his shaved hairline. It was raised, metal, and golden. It took the shape of a segmented diamond. In the center of it was a circle with a more traditional-looking connection port which was quickly covered by flesh once the helmet was fully removed.

“Calm down, John.” Tyler was not in the mood for his outbursts. “We don’t know. We are taking note of it.”

He quieted himself and just watched.

As they began to remove the suit, Bradford nearly had another outburst as he witnessed the tendrils connected to several hidden ports across his back and there was another similar segmented diamond implant just at the top of his spine. But this one was different. It was raised like the other, but underneath and intersecting some points was a black base with a dark blue outline that took the shape of an inverted triangle. At each point of the triangle, there were three insertion-style ports. These did not cover themselves in flesh once the tendrils retreated, instead, a golden cover appeared over them.

As they continued to remove the suit, a similar implant was found at the base of his spine, but the triangle underneath the diamond was right side up.

Prying the rest of him out, a few more hidden ports were found across his chest and limbs, but nothing like the implants on his back.

“What the hell did They do to you?” Bradford spoke his thoughts as he watched the doctors examine Thaddeus’ back. What he thought was only a scar on the man’s neck extended all the way down his spine. Was his back broken when he was captured? What were those implants for? Many negative thoughts ran through his mind. 

He shook his head. He didn’t need to dwell on the negative. That would just drag him into dark places. Instead, he focused on the tattoos. 

His eyes bounced from tattoo to tattoo. Taking note of each on that survived. “At least your other tattoos survived.”

The first he noticed was a vine of fan-like leaves trailing up from his left thigh to his left side. Then there were two twisted rose branches full of thorns wrapped around his upper right arm, and the other was just above his left wrist. And the last were two on each shoulder. Three abstract elongated diamond eyes encircling a small star underneath. 

It made him smile. “Her handiwork survived.”

“Everything is looking good, according to the preliminary scans.” Tyler said.

“This is remarkable. His body is in good condition despite the years in suspended animation.” Tygan said.

“He looks thinner.” Bradford noted. “He’s lost some muscle mass.”

Tygan nodded. “That was expected. The muscle atrophy is not as dire as we initially assumed. Once he’s awake and more lucid, we can gauge what therapy he will need.”

“Any clue on the implants.?” He asked.

Tygan shook his head. “Nothing matches what we have in the archives. I’ve never seen this during my time with ADVENT. Same with other personnel who worked ‘behind the scenes’. ”

Bradford grumbled at that. “Hm, take some pictures. I want to see if the Skirmishers know anything about this.” They were the first faction to cross his mind. Former ADVENT. They would probably know the various implants the Elders used. Especially the higher-ranking soldiers.  “And the Void Walkers, they’re great at finding the obscure.” Another faction that dealt with information and resources trading. They had a knack for getting near-impossible information. For a price, of course.

“Of course. I was thinking the Skirmishers could be of assistance.”

The physical examination continued for a few more hours.

Someone finally ushered Bradford out of the Infirmary and to his Quarters for a well-deserved nap. The adrenaline from the operation finally started to wane and they did not want another patient to work on.

———————————————

A few days had passed. Thaddeus was still being kept in the Infirmary. They wouldn’t be moving him until he woke up and they could do some psychological exams.

He was still out. His eyelids would move. A limb would twitch. And some murmurs would leave his mouth, but he didn’t wake up.

The examinations continued through those days. A few were to see if they could cause those hidden ports and tendrils to emerge. Nothing they did could force them out but they noted each location with great accuracy.

Besides the physical tests, they ran some blood tests. His immune system wasn’t neglected, but they still gave him some boosters so he could acclimate to the Avenger and her crew with minor discomfort.

As they sequenced his DNA, comparing it to his old one recovered from one of the old data centers, they noticed there were some changes. With several focusing on his nervous system and synaptic connections. Dr. Tyler wondered if that was why she noticed the psionic activity when they were removing the chip from him. She passed the information over to Dr. Marin and Quinn. That was their expertise.

So far, it didn’t look like alien DNA had been inserted, but more thorough sequencing and scans would be needed.

Bradford’s inquiries with the Skirmishers lead nowhere. None of them had seen implants like that. The implants they, their kin, and the aliens had were rarely ever hidden and they knew nothing about the diamond ones.

He was still waiting for a reply back from the Void Walkers. They supposedly had a lead but wanted to double-check it. Bradford was a fine client. They didn’t want to lose him if their information was poor.

For now, XCOM worked on gathering more resources, hunting down leads, expanding its reach, and preparing for the next batch of operations. 

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Ooooo Christmas fic from Factorial :0 I love your writing so much!! How about one from one of your Ordem AUs? I really like your post-opc with Johnny and Rubens, but any of the others (xcom, opd/opc fix-it, maybe even that steampunk one you were poking at a while back) are also good. Thank you and Merry Crimmus friend!! Go nuts!! <33

Merry Christmas Curly!!! You do not have post-opc au, you have a special treat... (likely never to be continued steampunk au)

And to everyone else, a wodnerful holiday season to you all.

Please find the ao3 link here is you so prefer: [link]

Mild body horror, but if you can handle ordem canon you should be fine. No spoilers, it's too au for that!

This is the furthest into one of his father's factories that Thiago has been in a long time. Long gone are the great thick safety rails and brass plating, replaced with burning pipes and skin-meltingly hot steam exhausts. The machines used here before were dangerous, yes, but nothing next to the ghost tech now installed. Even Thiago knew ghost tech was dangerous when his father vanished a decade ago; whoever stole his inheritance clearly has no such concerns, not when factory accidents now make the everyday news.

It is Thiago who writes that news, of course. The Gazette is not the most sophisticated of papers, but it is one that allows him the freedom to investigate such accidents. Explosions, burns, loom teeth catching on long skirts... he has seen much, and written it all. Even choking slightly on the cotton dust in the air after yesterday's work Thiago keeps looking; the lack of cleaning plus the exposed boil-vents is reason enough to slam the company, but only page seven news really.

What he hasn't seen, though, is a factory like this one; he had managed to convince the foreman to give him the key, between a silver tongue, a shared and genuine concern for the workers' safety after a number of disappearances, and a the insinuation that he was sleeping with the man's wife. And now he is inside...

The other bits are just factory, but it's in jimmying open a door and getting towards the machine rooms that he finds it.

The true meaning of ghost tech.

Pulsating walls, steam churning like blood, a hulking mass of wire and brass and steam... There's blood all around, and lumps of flesh mixed with the pipework. If it is human or not... Well, he prefers not to think about where those missing workers went.

He also has no idea as to if this monstrosity itself can be considered alive or not; careful of making noise, he grabs a pencil and paper, and begins to draw.

His sketches are nothing special, but they can be used as references for the stamp cutter. Chip here, gap there, move it all about...

He's nearly done when a gloved hand covers his mouth and pulls him closer.

Looking up... a woman, smartly dressed in green-trimmed black. The lace from her hat covers only the left side of her face, a cloth mask covers the lower half, and the edge of a cage-crinoline is pressed against the back of his legs. It's somewhat out of date, most women now preferring the half-hooped crinolette if not the recently developed bustle.

... Maybe Thiago should be paying more attention to his surroundings, and less to his colleagues working on the fashion rags.

Still, with a hand over his throat, there is not much Thiago can do but attempt to make eye contact.

It is very much failing, the woman's one visible eye is trailing over the abomination before them.

"I suggest," she whispers, bite in her tone. "Leaving very carefully and quietly."

Her hand shifts, and Thiago gains space to speak.

"Unfortunately, dear lady, I am here on business, and I am not quite finished yet."

He keeps his voice low, not wanting to draw attention if that thing can hear.

She glances at his sketch, then at him. Pauses a moment, and then…

"Oh, about the explosion?" She asks.

"Explosion?"

What explosion?

"Hm," her eyes run over the abomination again. "The one that will happen in around five minutes. A terrible shame about the use of fire boilers in an uncleaned textile mill."

"Ma'am, that is not a boiler."

"As a member of the Special Investigations Unit," she flashes a badge too quickly to see, then hides it again; there is no way that is a legitimate police unit, Thiago had been studying those extensively before taking to trespassing. "That is all that you know."

"But you know more, don't you?" He presses a little. "These were my father's factories, you know? The Infinite Production Conglomerate stole them during probate."

That seems to catch her attention.

"You're a Fritz?" she asks.

"Thiago," he replies, following her gaze to watch the monster.

The hand leaves his face entirely, reaching instead into a pocket of her skirt. She leans to one side as she does - it must be a large pocket - before pulling out... Some form of gun.

"Elizabeth," she tells him, as though there were fewer than six Elizabeth's working in his department alone. "Now, I am going to see that this monstrosity finds its way to hell. I highly suggest leaving."

Thiago does not know what sort of gun this Miss Elizabeth is holding, but he does know what happens if you combine even a slight flame in a textile factory this poorly maintained.

And he enjoys having skin.

"Alright," he whispers back. "There's an open door just across the factory floor."

"Lockpick?"

"Foreman knows me. He lent me the key."

"Hm," she considers a little. "Alright, your way; I don't want to climb back through the window."

She got in through a window? In that dress?

Thiago would say he is impressed, but flabbergasted would be a more accurate term.

"Of course, my dear Miss Elizabeth," he offers a hand. "Shall we?"

She ignores the hand, and starts crossing the floor.

Thiago quickly finishes up his sketch, and follows after her.

Now that he has seen it, he can hear the squelching of the abomination echoing in the pipes...

He tries not to think about that.

They make it outside without incident, and Thiago finds the guards he snuck around collapsed on the floor. There is no smell of blood, so he likes to think of them as merely drugged unconscious.

It is dark, he cannot see details, he can be forgiven.

Also, Miss Elizabeth does not drag the bodies into the factory, which anyone sensible would do with corpses before demanding a cover-up from a reporter of dubious repute, so they are probably clear of murder charges.

"Permission to explode your possessed factory, Mister Fritz?"

"Of course, Miss Elizabeth; I do think such things an insult to my father's legacy, after all."

She does not say more before snapping open her strange gun. She adds not a bullet but a canister to it, before flipping it closed and pointing it at the broken window.

And then she fires.

No projectile he recognises comes from the gun, but instead a small burning leading a trail of red smoke.

It enters the window.

Miss Elizabeth grabs Thiago by the arm, and pulls him to the ground.

It does not even take a second for the cotton dust to ignite, the entire factory quickly developing into a blazing ball of soon-to-be-ash.

Miss Elizabeth keeps him low for a while - long enough for the shrapnel and spitting fireballs to pass - before carefully getting to her feet.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Elizabeth," he tells her, as he also struggles up.

"I must bid you farewell; I have a telegram to send," she dusts off her dress, and corrects the tilt of her hat. "I suggest leaving; pray we do not meet again, Mister Fritz. You have no business here."

She does not wait for an answer before returning the strange gun to her skirts, and begins sprinting down the road, in the opposite direction to the bell of the approaching fire cart.

What a strange woman, Thiago thinks, even as he, too, sprints off at ninety degrees to them both.

[heljay]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Original Female Character(s), Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Non-Binary Character Additional Tags: Post-Enemy Unknown, Friendly Aliens, Autistic Character, Family Issues, Relationship Issues, Developing Friendship Summary:

Diane "Cargo" Freeman is a surviving XCOM operative, named for her astounding skill in capturing subjects for Dr. Vahlen. Her affection for the invaders saves her life when XCOM falls, but being alone in the unknown with only her tenuous allies and her regrets leaves her emotionally stranded. As she makes a decision as to whether or not to risk her family's lives to tell them she's okay, one of those allies proves her sincerity.

[yusuke-of-valla]

If you’ve finished p5t, what are your thoughts? I’ve heard mixed stuff

Hmmm well the short version is, if you like my blog you'll probably like this game. It's pretty much the kinda fic I like writing, not really a personal story about the Phantom Thieves but a Weird Metaverse Thing happens and they have to deal with it with occasional bits of introspection

In short the kind of thing I eat up. It's definitely Toshiro and Erina's story but I LIKE Toshiro and Erina and the Phantom Thieves have great interactions in quests and the Talk sections. (I know I've been liveblogging but out of respect I deliberately didn't mention a plot point I really like, I do have an agenda)

Plus I love the art style it's so goofy and expressive and the sprites are great.

Honestly the thing that hurts it is it came out after Strikers, because Strikers takes steps to move the characters forward while this, uh, doesn't. Like Strikers feels like a season finale, Tactica feels like just a mid-season episode in a Monster of the Week show, and you don't usually watch those out of order.

Also gameplay-wise, I have never played an XCOM game but oh my gosh this is so fun? Like it feels different from Fire Emblem, it feels faster, it feels flowier, it's just a lot of fun and I would love more entries in this series because the movement is so good. It feels good to play.

At the very least if you don't feel like buying it I'd recommend watching the cutscenes because yeah the Phantom Thieves aren't growing as characters, but like. They're my friends and I love them and it's nice seeing them hang out. There also weren't any moments like in Strikers where I was like "hey wouldn't X have something to say about this?" Like every time something happened, the relevant character spoke up or at least reacted so characterization wise it has my seal of approval.

Idk I guess that's how I'd describe Tactica: It's really nice to play! It's a good fun time! It's like The Great British Bake Off of Persona 5 games, except with more child abiuse

[companionwolf]

brain: xcom/blaseball crossover fic

me: ok keep talking

brain: that's it thats all i--

brain: wait

brain: it could be like space jam

brain: but worse

me: [stares into the camera like I'm on the office]

[echotunes]

🥤🍄❄️ \o/!!

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

hm. well same hat with that I'd recommend you but you're sending the ask LOL. you already recommended Factorial (@/factorialsotherfandoms) but I will do it again for the benefit of everyone else reading. you mentioned two of my favourites from his XCOM 2 AU (in this post, for everyone else) and I also really love Remind Me How It Feels To Hear Your Voice which is part of the same arc but well. chapter 3. is all I will say. I adore that fic.

other than that - one of my favourite qsmp fics will always be And will we bring the stranger in? (Circle, grow and grow) by WheelCoveredInEyes (@/blocksgame). it does feature forever a decent amount so make your own decisions about reading it I suppose but I can't not adore this fic. it's everything to me. same with if stainless steel could love you back by underoriginal (@/magicalmanhattanproject), albeit for very different reasons. one of the fics of all time. do not take the gore warnings lightly. it's so so good

dead man's float by anonymous is so underrated it's one of my favourite fitpac fics and I never see anyone talk about it and it's SO GOOD. it fucks me up so much I adore it

and last one for now lol but how to (not) deal with asymmetry by Solaneceae is also really good. tazercraft mindlink my love

🍄 ⇢ share a headcanon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

does it count that I like the idea of t4t tazercraft having done each other's top surgery. because I do. I pitched the idea of Pac having bioluminescent top surgery scars to fey feyscape once and they put it in a fic and it's great. tazercraft brand home surgeries: probably not safe and definitely not doctor approved but hey it works!

and I answered ❄️ here!

(ask game)

[redlikelove]

putting out a bounty for more people to put Asaru in their XCOM 2 fics and have him be an absolute little baby man