#SFTD drabbles

[redlikelove]

Druxy, Tygan.

Druxy - Something which looks good on the outside, but is actually rotten inside.

Sometimes Tygan thought about what he could’ve done different in his life.

It wasn’t a train of thought he ever entertained too often, but it came up occasionally. Sometimes it was minor, such as starting different  tests first and trying something else in  response to getting stonewalled on an ADVENT datapad.

Sometimes it was larger, as he contemplated, watching the compound he was studying slowly boil.

What if he’d never left ADVENT?

There were pros, surprisingly. Just about unlimited funding for his field, for one. A guaranteed income, a cushy home, and as many ADVENT Burgers as he could legally acquire. He would’ve been another scientist in one of the cities, blissfully ignorant to what was going on beneath the gears of that society.

Maybe life would be “better.” Comfortable, definitely. But, knowing what he did now? He could easily see past those flimsy positives.

He’d be an accessory to tens of thousands of murders, as he had discovered once they reached the Refinery. His advances would be responsible for countless corpses, thousands of names deleted from the system, brushed off as “missing” or “relocated.” His research would be put to active use against XCOM itself... and god knows that, without him, they might’ve not gotten that chip out of Eliza at all.

He side-eyed it as it hovered in its container, blocked off from any  sort of signal it could receive. Life would ADVENT would’ve been heaven on the surface. But god knows he was still repenting for sins that stuck with him to this day. That chip, and everything associated with it, was a constant reminder of what he had done wrong, and what he had to consider for the future.

He sighed through his nose, and turned off the Bunsen burner. There was always something to be wanted out of him. An exceptional scientist on the surface, but underneath...

[sftd-official]

I love the Rulers??? Also amazing work on the story so far, and the drabbles are great.

Glad you love the Rulers! I, too, stan four survivors. I hope to get across my love for them by showing just how they work together and live with each other.

Thank you for the praise, of course! Doing the drabbles keeps me sane between chapters of SFTD. I just... really had to write about them. We’re kinda getting close to them in the story and I wanted to do them justice.

[redlikelove]

XCOM Avenger Gothic

(SFTD-centric, inspired as always by @commanderguixi!)

There’s scrabbling in the vents. Your first fear is Chryssalid, but whatever’s in there is much too large. It stops in the ceiling above you. Through the cracks in the plating, you swear you spy purple, glowing lights. Nobody around you is worried. You think the lights are staring at you.

Everywhere you go, there’s a buzz in the air. It makes the hair on your arms stand up and it only ever gets stronger when the soldiers with white hair and purple eyes come around. When the Commander enters the room you’re in the buzz starts to sound like a song. Give in, it croons. To what? Give in.

The Chosen were the Elders’ strongest. What are they doing here? They’re different. You see them glance at the Commander strangely. Then at you when you notice. You avert your eyes. You can still feel them looking at you. What happened to them?

You’ve never seen so many aliens in one place. They walk among the soldiers. Tension is palpable in the air. One of them flickers into existence in front of you and you’re too surprised to scream.

Wherever the Warlock goes, whispers follow. He makes far too little noise for someone of his size. The congregation of followers around him are also silent. He is silent. The whispering continues. Holy Father. Holy Father. The hair on your arms stands up.

You’ve only caught one glimpse of the man they call Tygan. He did not make a single sound as you caught him rounding a corner. There were orange stains down his front. You think nothing of it until you watch one of the aliens nursing a wound. Orange blood. He is a surgeon, you assure yourself. He had orange on his face. A surgeon.

There’s a flicker in the corner of your eye. You turn to look but nothing is there. Wasn’t there another person in this room with you? Was there a Chosen here? Was there anyone at all? There’s another flicker and you are frozen, too afraid to look.

Your eyes are closed. You know they are closed. There are images in purple dancing in your vision. You open your eyes. There is no one there. You close them again. The ghosts have stopped and you know you are being watched. You’re afraid to open your eyes. What if they stay?

The Commander is sitting with her soldiers. Her grin is just a little too wide, her voice carries a little too well. She turns her gaze to you and it strikes you that no human’s eyes are that shade of blue. Her veins are glowing the same color. You remember the Elders had her for twenty years and wonder if XCOM knows their Commander is different.

You are in a barren hallway when you hear singing. It’s a pre-war song. You suddenly feel like laying down your arms and letting it happen. You don’t know what that is. It continues. Why resist? Why struggle? The song stops and some part of you craves to hear it again.

BONUS: SFTD/CHOSEN CROSSOVER UNDER CUT

Wasn’t there only three Chosen? This Hunter looks like he did when the Elders had him. But the one you remember had a coat. You blink and suddenly he has changed back into blue. He’s looking at you and you make every excuse to leave the room. Best to not ask about certain anomalies, you assure yourself. Down the hall is the Chosen Hunter. Best not to ask.

One day your stomach settles into knots and you feel like you have disappointed someone for the last time. Fervent anger washes over you. Your sight tints yellow. You’re sorry. You’re sorry. You’re sorry. Then, light blue. You’re ok. Everything is fine. Fine. Fine. Things are not fine and you don’t know which reality is worse.

This room is barren. It’s always been barren. You catch the door on the far side opening and then closing almost too fast to see. You wish you hadn’t seen what was on the other side. It was you.

[redlikelove]

cwtch for the Warlock?

cwtch: a warm, affectionate hug, cuddle or snuggle that gives a feeling of a safe place or home.

ask / words

It had been another day of no response from the Elders.

Outright anger was one thing, but this silence They were maintaining? It was somehow even worse. Jax-Rai had been left with nothing to go on, nothing said that he could do to improve himself. He had thrown himself into meditation but it wasn’t the same with the absence of the Elders’ energy. So now, he was pacing in front of his sarcophagus.

He had his Priests on high alert for anything he could do, an outpost he could menace, just to do something right and hopefully win back Their favor. But, assuredly, after the last mission... they were not to accompany him anymore. He could tolerate no more losses. Yes, they were created to serve him and die at his side if he wished, but... as unwilling as his pride was to say it, the loss of them pained him deeper than just losing followers. Jax didn’t want to lose another to XCOM’s violent tenancies.

But, undoubtedly, losing the backup of his Priests meant the potential failure of more missions, which meant even more of Their anger or silence...

The Warlock stopped in his pacing, arms crossing and hands gripping himself. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could do right, anyhow. It was simply out of his hands. He couldn’t stand this melancholy, this feeling of helplessness. It made him feel like a child. 

Yet, an idea for solace came to him, even if it would be giving more into his childish tenancies in his eyes. But, did he not have his Archbishop created just for him...?

Jax sent out a quick pulse on the Network, directed at Archbishop Maria. It wasn’t long before he could feel energy coalescing at the warp pad, looking up as Maria appeared from the column of light. She quickly strode over to him and bowed once she reached him. “My Warlock, what would you require of me?”

In answer, he gestured for her to step onto the platform he stood on. She did, and he averted his eyes. “Sit, Archbishop.”

Maria obeyed the command without hesitation, settling into her usual meditation pose. Jax’s fingers twitched and he hesitated before he did what he was about to do. He eased himself into kneeling closely in front of her, then, leaned forward. Maria seemed to recognize what he wanted, because when he shifted into leaning against her, she steadied him, embracing him. She gently took off his crown with her psionics and set it to the side, allowing him to lean his had against her chest.

Once he had worked his arms around her in return, her Solace flushed to life, sweeping over him and meeting his psionics, which softly meshed with hers. Jax closed his eyes and squeezed his Archbishop, heaving a soft sigh as her signature pulsed, gently observing the deep purple of her psionics in his mind’s eye.

With the Elders’ signature gone, he knew this was as close as he could get to Their presence. Yet... there was something more to it. The gentle, but strong heartbeat he could hear through her armor. The arms around him. Finally, there was something different about the way her signature meshed with his--it was fuller. It didn’t seem like it was being carefully metered out for one reason or another. Dare he think it? Dare he think that it was somehow more soothing than the Elders’ embrace?

He quickly latched onto a line of reasoning--Maria was tailor-made for him. Tailor-made for his psionic migraines and to be the perfect companion and symbol of power. A gift from the Elders. Perhaps, in a way, this was Their way of making him recognize that gift. He would--he swore from then on to give Maria more recognition, even if his pride balked at it. If she was a gift from Them, his pride could take a backseat.

... but did it have to? Perhaps he could do something with his pride rather than force it to be silent. Perhaps he didn’t have to ignore it like he was ignored. Maybe he could put it somewhere else. His mind immediately shifted to Maria, and it felt right to think it. He could have pride in his Priests. In his Archbishop. He could have pride in the way she made him feel like he was home, in the embrace of someone who cared for him.

He was gently brought out of his thoughts by Maria’s fingers carding through his hair, and he gave a gentle sigh. His signature gave a gentle request and hers pulsed in affirmative--soon, her hands were at work braiding his locks, tying them up. The gentle contact further calmed him and he moved more into her lap when given the chance, simply enjoying the motions he could feel her performing.

Jax hoped there was not going to be anything urgent coming up soon. He was fine where he was. He was... happy.

[redlikelove]

This excerpt is based off a bit of information in Chapter Seven. If you haven’t read it yet, I recommend doing so.

Eliza immediately knew she was in for a fun time when she woke up on her back.

That was always a prelude to some bad times. Eliza never went to sleep on her back but sometimes she could wake up on it... which always, always led to sleep paralysis. So here she was, on her back, awake, but the rest of her body wasn’t processing that fact.

Even if Eliza had dealt with this situation many times before, it did nothing to stem the dread that started to settle within her. Theoretically, staying out of the worst of it was easy. All she had to do was not open her eyes. Easy.

Eliza knew it was never that easy. There was always the primal compulsion to open her eyes and figure out what exactly was pinning her down. Which was nothing, she knew that. She knew that. There was no reason to open her eyes. Everything was fine.

Eliza opened her eyes.

Her room was dark, lit only by the ingrained lights in the paneling that let her see even if the traditional lights were off. It gave the room a low glow that still let her sleep. It also let her see the beast that was currently sitting on her chest.

It was ten foot tall, at least. Four arms were holding her down, pressing against her arms and shoulders. It wore her clothes--the Commander’s outfit she sported outside of her room. Bright, light blue irises stood out against black eyes. She could barely tell in the low light in the room, but the creature seemed to have bluish, or purple skin. Its cheekbones were high and its cheeks were almost hollow. It grinned, revealing razor sharp teeth.

Eliza had been pinned down by the Thin Man from twenty years ago. Eliza had been pinned down by that Elder. But not this. Not this thing that sat on its chest and why did it look so much like her. She caught the mop of hair on its head and the body shape that was hers.

Memories clicked. The Siren kept grinning. Kon-Hur Dessurik would not move off of her. Eliza was trapped under the Depthssinger and there was nothing she could do to move her.

The Siren tilted her head, grin dropping a bit. She opened her mouth to speak. “Eliza,” she rasped, holding the ‘z’ like an ‘s.’ She shared a voice with the Commander, but it was warped by her sheer size. “You could have been me, you know? Strong enough to stop this whole war, and certainly strong enough to stop the Beast that lies in the depths. Argus told you, you remember?”

Eliza said nothing. Her body was still paralyzed and she could not close her eyes. Couldn���t close out this monster on her chest. The Siren sighed. “Right. There’s a lot you don’t remember. It’s a shame. They cared for you so much. Under Them, you wouldn’t have had to suffer like you do. No nightmares, no terrors... and hey, you could’ve even chatted up the Chosen like you want to. Doesn’t that sound good?”

God, the terror was mounting. Eliza couldn’t tell at this point if the Chosen on her chest was still a hallucination or not. Kon-Hur folded her top two arms. “A Commander of many words, you are. Sleep paralysis got your tongue as usual? You wouldn’t have any of this, back with Argus. Aren’t you and I champions of ‘love?’ What happened to loving Argus? Oh, yeah. Another thing lost to the Void. Poor, poor Eliza.” The Siren’s grin returned. “Maybe if you remembered how They loved you, you’d return to Them. After all, They kept you from--”

The lights flickered on and Eliza’s alarm rang out. All at once, the illusion broke--with the lights turning on, the Siren disappeared instantly, and Eliza took in a gasping breath. There was a stunned pause, and then she sobbed it out, immediately rolling to lay on her side and curl inwards on herself. That... was horrifying. Almost the most horrifying thing she’d experienced. That thing was her. She was nearly that thing.

Her hand sought out and pulled in a pillow, hugging it hard and crying into it. It was such a lonely experience. Eliza already knew she could barely tell anyone. Her first and foremost duty and appearance was as a Commander, and such a private thing she wouldn’t even tell Bradford. It’d involve getting into her night terrors, and god knows that would cause him miles of worry. Eliza saddled him with enough as is, in her eyes.

She forced her breath to steady. Slowly, a hand reached out and fumbled for her alarm, silencing it. The Commander took a few more deep breaths, her hand returning and wiping at her eyes. Nothing to be done but try sleeping on her stomach more often, she supposed. She wouldn’t become that thing so long as she kept on her toes, after all. Just another ghost to haunt her.

Eliza allowed herself another minute of stewing on it before she returned the pillow back to its usual spot, rising, and then stretching. It’d be just another day. Everything was fine.

[redlikelove]

şafak, Fal-Mai and Mordenna, on the Avenger

şafak: the first skylight seen during dawn or just before the sun rise.

ask / words

To the Assassin, there were few things she valued more than silence. It was what drew her up to the deck of the Avenger as it was sat down in a mildly-forested area in the ungodly early hours of the morning. So ungodly early that the sky was still dark, and the last stars were just winking out

She was seated in her typical meditative pose, facing the east as she was steeped in her own psionics, letting the cool air that circulated so high up run across the few patches of skin she allowed to show.

Truth be told, it was not total silence--but the sounds that she registered were calming, not like the noisy bluster that would start up below in a few hours. The rush of wind. The leaves shifting on the trees below. The shifting and humming of the alien mechanisms of the Avenger. The gentle sounds of footsteps, approaching her position.

... wait a second. She took in the approaching footsteps further. Light, with a long, but relaxed stride--just barely on the edge of even her own hearing. Such a light step and long stride could only belong to one person.

“Brother,” she said, cutting through the silence. The footsteps stopped and there was the shifting of fabric--Mordenna just crossed his arms.

“Sis.” His voice was slightly audible over the sound of the wind, and he started stepping closer. It had been a while of the two of them coexisting on the Avenger together and she had just barely unlearned tensing up at his approach. He came to a stop just at the edge of her vision, looking out at the horizon. “Getting a good view, hm?”

Fal-Mai turned her eyes back to the horizon, lidding them. It was also another thing to unlearn suspecting any question he asked having an ulterior motive behind it. Perhaps he had just come up here to be, god forbid, friendly. “Enjoying the quiet while I can, before the crew wakes.”

Ref-Il nodded at that, hesitating a moment before crouching beside her, eyes still on the skyline. The silence resumed as the two of them simply watched the sky lighten, changing from black to purple, to a light blue.

The Assassin had also came up on the deck of the Avenger to meditate over some of her thoughts, and she was half-expecting Mordenna to do something at any point to devalue that prospect.

But, he never did. Not even as the first light of day bloomed over the tops of the trees, meeting their eyes. The Assassin closed hers. “Brother, what do you seek from me?”

“Nothing,” he answered smoothly, keeping his eyes forward. “Just wanted to check on the sibling that’s not in baby jail at the moment.

Ah, yes. Their eldest brother was still being reasoned with in the Chosen Holding Cells... Fal-Mai half-thought to give him a visit. There was much he could gain that she had gained from the Commander. But it was hard to believe that it was the whole reason for his visit.

Then again, wasn’t she the one who wanted peace among her brothers? She had tried her luck when they were with the Elders and found little at hand. Perhaps the change of atmosphere would do better on all of them. To that effect, she chose to believe him. “... I appreciate the thought, brother. I hope you are faring well too.”

Mordenna didn’t offer a response, but the corner of his mouth twitched not unkindly. The sun illuminated his face and for just a second, he looked genuinely happy to the Assassin.

Just as the sun always rose again, perhaps there was always a second chance for peace...

[redlikelove]

“Hey there, Shen. Whatcha working on?”

Lily looked up from her work to see the Hunter leaning over the counter of her workshop, a sly grin plastered on his face. He had something in his hand, but she couldn’t exactly pick out what it was from where she was standing. She sighed, standing up and setting her tools down. “Piecing together another grenade while SYN recharges. Ultrasonic Lure, standard stuff.”

He hummed in mock-thought, supporting his chin with a hand. “Sounds awfully boring.”

She shrugged, looking back to make sure nothing had fallen out of place in the design. “Yeah, I guess. But, considering the Commander asked, I figured it’s important.”

“Ooh, an order straight from Eliza?” His tone seemed to imply that such a thing was a huge event. “Must be nice to get orders straight from the top...”

She sighed, picking up her tools again. If this is what he was trying to regale her with, Lily figured she could listen to him while she worked. “Well, it’s the Commander. I can hardly complain about her.”

“Really?” He stood up, looking taken aback. “It’s the Commander we’re talking about here and all you can say is you ‘can hardly complain?’ Such a change of heart!”

Shen stopped in her tracks, rising back up. “... what are you trying to say?”

With a shit-eating grin, Mordenna held up the device and hit a button on it. Lily’s voice filtered from it.

“ ... and I don't know, ROV-R, I really don't want to think about those kind of feelings. I mean, she's the Commander, and I'm just... her engineer. The daughter of someone who she probably liked more. I wouldn't stand a chance."

He hit another button and the recording stopped. “I knew I talked to myself, but you really run your mouth when working on those bots, huh?”

His grin practically reached from ear to ear as he stood there, waiting on Lily’s reaction. She deemed to not say anything. She, instead, deemed to calmly hit a button on the desk of her workshop near her.

In his docking bay, SYN powered up, stepping off of the station. “Power banks at 65%. What seems to be the issue, Ms. Shen?”

“SYN?” She pointed right at the device in Mordenna’s hand. “Get that recording device. Now.”

Suddenly the Hunter looked a lot less smug, head jerking over to SYN, who coldly vaulted over the counter. “Ref-Il Mordenna. You may give that device to me. Your other option is to relive a series of events not unlike the ones enacted at your Stronghold.”

Given the choice between the two, the Hunter wisely dropped the device onto the counter, giving Lily a glare. “Spoilsport.”

[redlikelove]

The Archbishop could feel the energies of her Chosen’s reincarnation bathing his stronghold well before the Network notified her of such.

The Warlock had already told Maria that she would not be appearing in battle with him unless it was at his own stronghold or to capture the Commander, but she couldn’t help but feel a little testy. She was specially requested, specially made for the task of assisting him.

Perhaps it was a form of protection. Archbishop Maria did not have the sanctions of the sarcophagus afforded to her. She was confident she could hold her own in battle, but with XCOM’s forces getting more and more proficient with their weapons and tactics... she had lost many a sister. The Warlock was seeming more reluctant to bring them nowadays. His orders had been more to keep them inside of his stronghold, safe from threats... but also not able to assist him in battle. Such was his duality, of wanting to serve the Elders to his fullest extent... but not also wanting to lose his Priests.

Whatever the case, there was a more pressing matter. The mission Warlock Tessura embarked upon was not long ago at all. For him to return into the embrace of the Elders this fast...

No, that was inaccurate. To say that he was in Their care at all was as well--he would not have been thrown back so quickly.

Maria found herself striding through the halls of the stronghold, her God-given height lending more aid to her strides. She stepped on the portal for his Inner Sanctum and was quickly swept up in psionics, welcoming the vast power of the Elders’ Network as she was ferried to her destination.

She touched down smoothly as she was deposited into the new room, spying her Warlock in front of his sarcophagus. She caught him just in time was he was turning away, saying something she couldn’t catch from her distance. Maria could, however, see his despondent stance, and her connection to him keyed her in to his despair. She walked in further, just far enough that he looked at her, dropping into a bow when he did.

“My Warlock?”

She got a sigh in response, chancing looking up. Jax-Rai remained where he was, arms limp at his sides. The Elders truly did drop him off without so much as a consoling word, it seemed like. For just a second, her heart twinged with an emotion she couldn’t identify before she snuffed it out. Maria stood up, slowly stepping towards her Chosen. She felt the need to make conversation, even if it was about the obvious. “My Warlock... did the Elders speak to you at all?”

He shook his head, eyes lidded, not stopping her from coming closer. “It is my own fault. I have failed Them yet again, and I should be glad that They do not smite me where I stand.” After he said that, he shuddered, crossing and rubbing his arms. Because she was so close, Maria got a few ghosts of his feelings--fear, anxiety, and... acceptance. Once again that twinge hit her but it was gone as quickly as it came.

The Archbishop stepped closer. “There will always be another chance, my Warlock. Give them time to recover from Their anger and surely They will be loving once again.”

He looked to the side, refusing to look at Maria. “I fear I am soon running out of chances... soon, I do not think They will have love left for me.”

This... was the most despondent she had seen her Chosen. The twinge hit her again but this time it stayed for a bit longer, and she identified the feeling--wrath. Her Berserker DNA speaking, surely. Something she trained herself to ignore, but in this case...? No, she could not entertain it. Especially since that wrath seemed to be directed at...

She shook her head, both to clear her thoughts and banish his worries. She stepped closer, putting a hand on one of his shoulders. “Warlock Tessura, surely you don’t mean that.”

But the Warlock seemed to be far away, his eyes unfocused. She caught his hands shaking and then the phantoms of memories hit her--of being torn apart by powerful psionics, far greater than she could imagine, being forced to the floor by Them, attacked from every direction specifically to overload his mind... She surely would’ve been just as lost in the memories if her Warlock hadn’t managed to timidly whisper something.

“It’s not fair.”

Spoken like a child... which was what he was. A scared child, punished by the Elders, worrying for when the next crack of the belt would ring out. That wrath hit Maria again but instead she channeled it, right into a hug for her Chosen. She was not normally the one to initiate contact like this but it was clear he needed it--and caring for her Chosen was the reason for her existence.

The Warlock froze for a second, standing there, but Maria could sense that he was out of the memory. Eventually, he quickly drew her in, as if afraid she would drop the gesture if he waited too long. His arms squeezed her tightly, so hard a lesser being would be crying out in pain. Maria’s sturdiness allowed her to stay there, pulsing her power into her hands and her Solace, smoothing them both over Warlock Tessura.

She could feel him shake and take in a tentative breath, shuddering it out. Maria kept her hands moving across his back, humming gently.

If the Elders did not wish to give him proper affection... she had no complaints that it would rest on her instead.

[redlikelove]

“C’mon, Eliza.”

The Commander had her head in her hands as she looked over the plans that Mordenna had laid out in front of her. On one hand, they were very well laid-out. Potential security accounted for, most viable access point highlighted, there were even recommendations as to who she should bring on the squad, should she deploy on it. All around fantastic plans, something she would expect coming from the Hunter’s tactical mind.

On the other hand... “So we’re looting your Hunter’s Lodge. For your knick-knacks?” She looked up at him, a mix of exasperation and pure confusion coloring her face. “Mordenna, I’m sure you’re aware, but a mission like this isn’t going to do much for your reputation.”

He pouted, leaning back and crossing his arms. As he did, his eyes scanned the room, coming across a certain figure on the Commander’s desk. “That an EVIL-COM Commander figure, Commander?”

She stopped in her head-kneading, hands gently falling to the desk. “You recognize that thing?”

He chuckled. “Of course I do. They’re all the rage in the cities, and I’ve noticed more than a few of your soldiers trying to start a collection of all of the figures.”

“Your point being...?”

His grin turned wolfish. “I think you’re wrong on how much this is gonna do for my reputation. I have the whole collection knocking around in my lodge. Plus all the bootlegs I could get my hands on--which was all of them, the last time I was there.”

The Commander stared at him blankly, before leaning over and pressing a button on a terminal. “Central, this is the Commander. A high-priority mission just came up.”

[redlikelove]

It was interesting, trying to track down the Chosen with her psionics.

Even among the Commander’s psionic operatives and the Mystics now in their care, the Chosen burned brightly in her mind. So brightly, in fact, that sometimes it was hard to tell where exactly they were on the ship--she just had the approximate knowledge that they were on the ship.

She’d already stumbled on the Assassin on her quest for the Hunter. The Assassin seemed a bit... cagey, about his location. Coughing nervously. Disappearing from view. The Commander supposed something had happened and perhaps the Assassin was attempting to save face.

Well, if something had happened, that just meant she had to find Mordenna quickly.

A hunch led her to the photobooth area they had on the ship. Out of the rooms on the ship, this one had a signal around it, but it was weaker than the others. The Warlock’s practically blinded her, and when the Assassin wasn’t cloaked, hers was just a bit dimmer. The Hunter certainly had some potential, if she knew anything about psionics.

She entered the room without looking, checking her watch. “Alright, Mordenna, you better be--”

She looked up and immediately wished she hadn’t.

The green screen in the room was set up, along with the cameras and other photo equipment. Bradford was manning the main camera, looking at her like he was a deer in headlights. Lily was also in the room, messing with one of the lights, also frozen as she looked at Eliza. But on the floor, reclined and nude save for his Darklance propped very conveniently, was the Hunter. With a rose clutched between his sharp teeth. With his hood off, she could finally see his hair--stark white like his brother’s, shaved on one side, short and curly on the other, and looking ever so soft.

His eyes met hers and just for a second, she got an immense feeling of panic. But then Mordenna smiled. “Oh, hello, Commander. Here to help with the calendar?”

Eliza had to force her gaze to not wander over his naked form, instead closing her eyes and putting her palms together, bringing them up to her mouth. She took in a deep breath. “I... I am going to forget I saw anything, and walk out of this room.” She squeezed her eyes further shut. The urge to ogle the Hunter was strong. “I am then going to walk back into this room and ask to know what the hell’s going on.”

She spun on her heel, eyes still closed, and walked out just enough for the door to slide shut behind her. Eliza counted to ten, vaguely trying to comprehend what she just walked in on. She opened her eyes, turned around again, and opened the door.

Lily was standing, facing her, looking for all the world like she wanted to disappear in a puff of embarrassment. Bradford was covering his face, leaning on the camera. The Hunter hadn’t moved, still having the rose in his mouth.

“Alright,” she began, “what the hell is going on.”

[redlikelove]

Basorexia, Hunter and Eliza ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)

Basorexia wasn’t in the prompt list... but a quick Google search identifies it as “a strong hunger for kissing.” Nice word, Anon, I’ll still write it.

“... and with this added heat sink, your soldiers can go a little more crazy than usual without the plasma eating through the weapon itself.”

Eliza listened to the explanation of the Hunter’s latest breakthrough on their plasma weapons--specifically, their Beam Cannons. Truthfully, she wasn’t so much a weapons type of person; handling and firing them, of course. Knowing the specifics of the design itself? She let the Engineers handle it. Still, she knew it’d do her good to listen and at least know what was going on with the most recent round of upgrades.

Though, she had been paying enough attention to notice something was a little different on his blueprint compared to the weapon out in front of her. Eliza pointed to the spot. “Seems to be an inconsistency here. Something end up changing in the design process?”

The Hunter’s eyebrows raised, seemingly impressed with her catching it out. “Hm... yep, seems so. That was actually a potential space for an upgraded repeater specific to the Beam Cannons themselves...”

Mordenna easily went off on that tangent, mouth running as he explained the discrepancy. Eliza settled in to listen, but soon it became apparent to herself that she just wasn’t listening. Wasn’t that she wasn’t interested--she wouldn’t have asked in the first place--but there was something awfully distracting.

It, truthfully, was the Hunter himself. Eliza appeared to still be raptly at attention but her eyes were focused on his face. Studying it, and maybe daydreaming just a little. She remembered all the times she used to see in movies where somebody would shut up a rambling partner with a kiss and she smiled dreamily. It’d be fun to recreate that... but god knows it’d flip Mordenna out, and she probably couldn’t land him anyway. After all, he probably saw her more as a friend.

Friendships bear the best relationships, went some advice by her mother, and she tried to silence the thought. No use pining, she was the Commander.

The Hunter noticed her smile and gently stopped in his place. The two shared a glance between them for a moment. The Hunter himself looked like there was something he wanted to say badly... and his eyes dilated, just a bit, but it was noticeable. Her brain was about to pull up the meaning of that before he cracked a smirk. “Really liking these upgrades, eh Commander? Maybe I should talk your ear off more often.”

Eliza’s grin went more humorous. “You know what? That sounds grand.”

[redlikelove]

kilig + Eliza..? Oh, I’m wishing for an extension for the latest post *runs away*

kilig: the delightful feeling that sends shivers of pleasure down the spine as one encounters something romantic. 

The workshop was dark when she entered, with just a solitary bench illuminated by a lamp. The Hunter was sitting at that one, eyes flitting up to Eliza as she came in. He quickly held a finger to his mouth, using his other to motion a far workbench, where Lily sat. Her head was rested on her arms on the table and she was asleep, with ROV-R deactivated right next to her.

Eliza nodded, walking in and doing her best to remain quiet. When she reached his table, he motioned to a stool right beside him. Probably wanted Eliza sitting close so he didn’t have to raise his voice too much. She sat down next to him, getting a closer look as to what was on his table.

It was his Darklance, currently in a state of disassembly, with a blueprint for it on the desk’s display. It looked like it had been drawn on and revised a bit. The Darklance itself was, naturally, powered down, and if she could determine this correctly, he’d been spending some time on the scope in particular.

The Hunter tapped her shoulder, picking up the disassembled scope. “Hate to bother you like this, Commander,” he began, voice low, “but I just needed a fresh pair of eyes. Since you seem to be dealing with some insomnia...”

“Mmm,” Eliza leaned on a clear area of the desk, “Not so much that as just... not agreeing with the dreams I’ve been having recently. Plenty tired, but I’m here now.”

In the low light, the Hunter’s eyes glowed a bit, catching his smile. “I’ll do my best to keep you awake, then.” He held up the scope. “I’ve been trying to add a few ‘modes’ to this, as it were, without taxing the Elerium unit inside--problem is, most of the settings of the modes seem to blend into the ‘default’ view...”

He put the scope down on the table, picking up a datapad. “I might just have to use you for some debugging, actually. Just gonna read some stuff off. Starting at the top, I’ve managed to set a few lines...”

Mordenna started to run through the code he had been doing for the modes, focused on the datapad. Eliza did her best to listen intently, but if she was supposed to point out any errors, she didn’t know where to begin. Coding was even less her field than constructing guns. But, it was nice, listening to the Hunter. Eventually his words started to melt together and all she could perceive was the even drone of his voice, rising and falling as he went. She could feel her eyes closing--hell, she was just listening, she didn’t need to--

The next thing she knew, she was falling forwards, and then was immediately stopped by two very warm hands on her shoulders. She threw out her arms a little late and her hands found support a little under her. Blinking blearily, she looked up to find the Hunter’s mildly concerned face, illuminated by the lamp. Looking down, the support she had found was his thighs, hands on top of them. Eliza had dozed off. Realizing the placement of her hands, she withdrew them, letting the Hunter support her. “... sorry about that, think I’m more tired than I realized.”

His hands gently squeezed her shoulders and she couldn’t help but feel a bit of a rush with the contact. Combined with her less-than-stellar hand placement, that was almost something. Maybe she needed to sleep after all. The Hunter chuckled softly. “Think you might need that nap. Keep yourself up for a moment.”

Mordenna gently leaned her against the table and got up, walking over to one of the other benches. He slowly slid out a drawer, as to not create too much noise, taking something out of it and then closing it. When he came back, it was apparent now that the item was a pillow. “Usually I sneak this under Lily’s head when she’s not looking, but, I think she can stand to be without it if the Commander needs it.”

Eliza nods, stifling a yawn. “I can head back up to my quarters if it’s too much trouble...”

“No, no,” he immediately followed up, sitting at his stool again. “Stay a while. Hell, I’m just working on the scope at this point, don’t need too much room on my desk.” He moved the parts around to create a bigger clearing around Eliza, putting the pillow down and picking up the datapad again. “Now. Shall I speak you a lullaby again?” The Hunter grinned.

Eliza chuckled softly, nestling into the pillow and closing her eyes. “By all means, Mordenna.”

She could hear him scooting his stool closer, and by the time he began to read again, his words were already a blur to her mind. It was so... gentle of him to do this. Once again, she couldn’t help but get that rush, but it was quieted quickly by her tired state. Soon, she slipped right back into dozing.

[redlikelove]

geborgenheit + Assassin?

geborgenheit: to feel completely safe, like nothing could ever harm you; security, comfort, trust, satisfaction, acceptance and love from others.

((This is a followup to THIS drabble.))

The Assassin kept her face in Eliza’s shoulder as she shook, unwilling to show her visage. Eliza remained hovering a bit more, stroking over her back. Fal-Mai wanted to hide away in her shroud and forget the whole thing, but in her current state, it would likely fail her as well. The only stable thing with her right now was the Commander and she clutched to her, unwilling to let go even though she knew she had to eventually.

The Commander hovered softly, though paused for a second. “Fal-Mai,” she began, voice just on the edge of hearing, but clear as day to the Assassin’s God-given hearing, “just relax, ok? I want you to just follow after me. Lean on me.” 

She gave a subtle nod, feeling her knees weaken. The Commander floated backwards and down, bringing the Chosen with her, settling to sit against the wall with the Assassin in her lap, her head against Eliza’s chest. The steady beat of her heart came in strong to the Assassin’s ears, and the closeness of the contact both wanted to speed her own heart and still it.

Eliza kept her arms around Fal-Mai, one hand coming up to stroke the back of her neck. It was then that the Assassin could perceive her Solace, wrapped around herself and gently washing over her, only coming in if she allowed it. She relaxed, letting it soothe her as she laid against her Commander, tears still flowing but her sobbing had ceased for now.

This contact, the closeness, and the gentle vibrations that came through Eliza’s chest as she breathed, took the edge off of the Assassin’s emotions, and she squeezed her in embrace, which Eliza returned readily. Fal-Mai closed her eyes and deepened her breathing, focusing only on sound.

The soft shifting of Eliza’s hand across her neck, the rumble of her breathing, the thumping of her heart… and just barely audible, even to her, the soft chorus of the Commander’s psionics. It sung to her louder than any song she had known and she further melted into the Commander, her thoughts a million miles away from her. The things that had happened to her still stung, but right here, in this position… She was safe. Resolutely and firmly. Arms were around her that were not intent on harming her. Her position was vulnerable, but it brought so much comfort.

Eventually the tears stop, but the Assassin did not budge. She refused to. To be secure like this, to be loved like this… she wanted just a moment more, so she had something to cherish forever.

[redlikelove]

The Assassin was facing the wall in her quarters. Fists clenched, eyes down, back to the door.

She wanted so badly to relax. Wanted so badly to be able to go back to meditating, where she could slip into a calmer state of mind. But every time she did...

She could hear the roaring in her ears. How it started at her back and spread, and grew, until it was over all of her. The loathing. The anger. The pain. Like every single nerve was on fire.

Her hands shook. There wasn’t even a wound left to tell that it happened, definitively, at least that she knew of. She could’ve been lying about it. She could’ve easily been making things up. After all... didn’t the Elders want the best for her? Was it not out of love?

No, she chided herself with, heaving a shuddering sigh. That was not love. It was a twisted, misused form of it. Used as a weapon. Given sparsely, as was quick to be taken away. If that was the verdict, then why did she feel like something was off? Maybe it was her fault. She should’ve moved to help Mordenna when they felt him die the first time. But, how was she supposed to know that his Stronghold had been breached?

An unthinkable thought rose. If she had helped Mordenna and fought off XCOM... she wouldn’t be here in the Avenger, would she? She wouldn’t know the Commander’s love. She wouldn’t know what love was supposed to be like.

Her train of thought was interrupted when she heard footsteps outside of her door. She initially stiffened, but then relaxed a bit. The heaviness of footfalls and the particular gait... that was Eliza outside. Judging by the way they stopped, she was about to knock.

“Come in.” Her voice was soft, but loud enough to be heard through the door.

The door slid open, but the Assassin remained in place. With how she couldn’t concentrate, it wasn’t a wise move to show her front. She wasn’t prepared, wasn’t wanting to show weakness. It’s Eliza. You’re allowed to be weak, aren’t you?

Eliza stepped in, and the Assassin could pick out her taking in a deeper breath before she spoke. “Fal-Mai?” Her voice was tender, gentle, concerned. Fal-Mai would have turned to greet the Commander by now. But she couldn’t. Not like this.

She instead offered a subtle nod. “Eliza.” She kept her own voice low, at a volume that didn’t currently jostle her ears. It wasn’t enough to stop the roaring again, the phantom pain crawling up her back, the sound of the Elders snarling--

Arms wrapped around her waist and a forehead was pressed into her back. Fal-Mai didn’t realize until she was ripped out of the memory that her hands were shaking harder and her face was heating up. Eliza was hugging her. Physical affection. “Do you want to talk about it...?”

After a hesitant moment, the Assassin opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was an ugly sob. She was crying. She bit her tongue, trying to stem the tide of emotions threatening to drown her, but nothing could stop the trembling. “I...” She choked out, squeezing her eyes shut, which only forced out tears. “I... I’m sorry...”

The arms left her waist and for a moment, the Assassin was terrified. Terrified that Eliza was going to leave in disgust. But she could hear the subtle movement come around to her front. Not of footsteps, but of lightly shifting fabric. She felt a hand on her face, brushing away tears. Fal-Mai braved opening her eyes just a bit, to see the Commander cloaked in light blue, hovering in front of her. Eliza looked almost heartbroken, and the Assassin couldn’t stand seeing it. She closed her eyes again, giving another strangled sob.

“It’s alright.” The Commander’s voice was soothing, reassuring. She almost sounded like the Elders, up until what she said next. “Whatever happened, we can talk about it when you’re ready. You can cry, it’s alright.”

Fal-Mai couldn’t take that advice. To cry freely was an admission of weakness. An admission of the pain you were in. But... the Commander was there. The Commander did not punish weakness. The Commander accepted emotions. The Commander loved her.

Her arms, shaking like she was bitten by cold, came up. Slowly, they wrapped around Eliza, pulling her closer. Eliza seemed to welcome the gesture, as she returned it in kind, wrapping her arms around the Assassin once again. Fal-Mai pressed her face into the Commander’s shoulder, hiding it as another gasping sob escaped her.

To be seen like this was an utter embarrassment to the terms of her creation. To be unemotional, to be the blade of the Elders. But... she was no longer in their service. She was with Eliza now. Eliza loved her.

Sooner or later, everything would be better.

[redlikelove]

commanderguixi

replied to your

post

:

commanderguixi replied to your photo: ...

Elena, somewhere, vaguely approving nod, but will still likely dropkick the Hunter’s ass the second he gets on board the ship (it’s a Reaper thing, Commander.)

Elena was right there when the Avenger’s gate lowered, with the Hunter standing at the bottom. Word traveled fast among the soldiers, and as impressed as she was at the Hunter flooring Volk, there was an unspoken asskicking still in waiting for him.

What she didn’t expect was the Commander shouldering past her, barely muttering a “move it” as she went. There was some menacing energy coming off of her, and soon she was feeling a heavy amount of pity for Mordenna.

Mordenna was slightly distracted as the Commander descended the ramp, vaguely registering her walking down it as he rubbed his jaw. “Hey, Commander. I might’ve stepped a bit over the line with that--”

He didn’t get another word out. The Commander’s growing psionics, as it turned out, could be well used for grapples. He didn’t even have time to process what happened between him being interrupted and then being flat on the ground, breath out of his lungs, Eliza standing over him, positively livid.

“Ref-Il Mordenna, of all the stupid-ass things to do--!!”

Still, he way preferred this to all of the Elder’s prattling on. At least she could deck him fair and square.

[redlikelove]

In the Commons room, the Hunter had a table to himself, with a gun disassembled in front of him. Another mindless project, just seeing how many ways he could put it together with some parts and without others. He was in the middle of a third iteration when a conversation at the next table perked his interest.

It was the usual suspects from the Warlock’s group of fanatics: Benald and Pattie. Benald had his bandanna down for once, revealing a heavily scarred mouth, a bottled soda in his hand. Pattie had a similar drink in hers, the two sounding like they were at it again. Benald took a sip and continued whatever he was on about. “You go around picking some interesting fights, Pattie. Trying to set the Assassin on fire was definitely up there, and I don’t think I could’ve backed you up.”

She huffed, pouting. “Ain’t nobody supposed to have balance like that. Ain’t right. Blood’s gotta rush to her head.”

“In the span of a minute? I might’ve been more hesitant to name the bet if you put it at three or five.”

“You didn’t even wanna bet in the first place!”

“And who’s fault is that.”

The Hunter shook his head, going back to his work. “Running their mouths as usual,” he muttered to himself.

They must’ve picked up on his comment, because they both stopped in their tracks. The Hunter looked back over in time to watch them exchange a look and then turn back to him. Benald’s mouth set in a hard line. “Only mouth I see running around here is yours, hotshot.”

“Hotshot can’t make a shot without speaking into his boots.” Pattie followed up perfectly.

“Quaking in his boots. Afraid of two humans?” The two were engaged in verbal tennis, and the Hunter was the wall.

“Afraid to square up.”

“What a square.”

The Hunter grinned a maniacal grin. Oh, it was on. “I’m not the one trying to set a Chosen on fire, or even trying to pick a fight with one right now. Two half-wits like you couldn’t make a full wit if you tried. Running around the circle of your dome, looking for a corner to squat in.”

“Oh, we got a tough guy, Ben. Thinks he’s high and mighty.” Pattie started it out this time.

“Only thing you’re high on is the devil’s weed.”

“Fancies himself a two-on-one fight.”

“Look at that grin, he wants it.”

“Wants an ass-beating.”

“Asshat.”

At this point, the attention of the whole room was on the three of them. Silence had fallen. Out of the corner of his eye, the Hunter could perfectly make out the Assassin’s amused face. But hell, he was having fun. “I’d take a two on one. What, one of you gonna stand on the other’s shoulders to make it fair? Fair play, I suppose. Get the both of you with a good shot. Been a while since I got a penetration kill.”

The two psionics looked at each other at his last comment and grinned like they won the lottery. Pattie started it again. “Oooh, a fan of penetration, huh?”

“Big man’s got a little fun side hobby.”

“That why you like guns so much, Mr. Catcher?”

“Pats he’s got a gun called the Darklance and it’s about as big as he is.”

“If it was as big as he is, Ben, it’d be a three-incher.”

“Give the man some credit, he’s tall. Three-and-a-half.”

“Overcompensation.”

“Gotta bring something to the table.” The Hunter felt for just a moment, a poke at his mind. Benald’s grin got wider. “How else he gonna please the Co--”

The Hunter immediately took the Darklclaw off of his hip, jumping out of his seat, aiming it right at Benald’s no-longer-smirking face. “Another word out of your sorry mouth and it’ll be all over the table.”

Pattie jumped up right after him. “Shoot at him and I don’t care what the fucking Commander says, I’m burning you alive.” She looked like she very well meant it, and the Hunter could already feel heat pricking his nerves.

Suddenly, the Assassin appeared between all of them, coming out of her psionic cloak. Must’ve been getting real good with that thing, if the Hunter didn’t see her walking up. She held a hand up to Pattie and lowered the Hunter’s pistol with her other. “The Commander won’t be pleased with any of you if you continue like this.” She turned her head to the Hunter. “It may not be wise to pick a fight with us, but it is even less wise to openly insult.”

The Hunter glared at her, entertaining just shooting Benald through her. A voice in his head reminded him that they were all on their last lives and he let the Darkclaw drop to his side. “Gotta learn respect somehow.” His gaze shifted to beyond her, to Benald. “Obvious when it ain’t there.”

The Assassin turned to Benald, and he was suddenly aware that this was now a two-on-two. “I will agree with my brother there. It would not take someone of my hearing to pick up on the road you were attempting to head down.” Her mouth twitched into a slight smile. “Were you not the one advising to refrain from challenging us?”

Benald fixed her with a cool stare, before sighing, pulling his bandanna back up to cover his mouth. “Yeah.”

Pattie still looked inches from giving Hunter the business, but at seeing Benald relent, she snatched up their drinks. “We’ll finish fights. This ain’t done.”

Benald shook his head, getting up. “C’mon, Pats.”

The two left the Commons room, and after a bit of silence, chatter resumed. The Assassin turned to the Hunter, who had followed them out with his eyes. He blew out some air through his nose, returning to his seat. “Was all fun and games until...”

The Assassin nodded, pausing a moment before sitting down with him at the table. He shot her a glare but didn’t say anything beyond that, returning to his blueprints.