#xcom musing

[etherealvoidechoes]

Here I am thinking about the logistics of food, other amenities, and general maintenance for the Avenger.

Wondering how many are fine with eating ADVENT food and those that want to burn it on site knowing that those “reclaimed proteins” will contain alien and human DNA. Bradford is strongly on the burn team as he recalls the alien food storages containing human DNA back in the day.

Wondering if some crew put together some hunts to grab some local wildlife for the Avenger and to trade. Have to be careful not to over hunt with how tentative the environment is in some areas.

Those crazy enough to eat Chryssalids and other aliens(throwing in more animal-like aliens and pulling from the OG games) like the Reapers. Many lessons are needed to kill and prepare those bugs properly so you don’t poison yourself.

Wondering how much space I can give to Memento(OC) for her mostly hydroponics based garden(and semi-lots of grow bags garden) so they have some home grown food they know hasn’t been tampered it. Hm I can even make it a disciplinary punishment that one has to work in her garden and helping Haven gardens. Heheheh

Who is manufacturing their clothes since I know several would want to keep their distance from ADVENT fashion.

Oh goodness, the written and digital chores list would be in constant chaos no matter what.

[mjkltoad]

In XCOM:EU/EW the world goes to hell in 2015.

Five nights at Freddy’s and fnaf 2 come out in 2014.

Thus, everyone in XCOM:EU/EW, and the commander and Bradford in XCOM2 have the potential to know what fnaf is.

[hyperfixatinglove]

OF COURSE his va is Brian Bloom AGAIN

Idk man Alex Shepherd is kinda cute

[jami-multimuse]

Quick Self-Promo!

Hi! I'm Jami. Welcome to my multimuse blog!

I am 25+ years old, and I have 10+ years on and off of RP experience. Most of my muses are OCs, and I am VERY okay with crossovers.

Semi-selective, OC friendly, crossover friendly.

The fandoms I am currently interested in RPing include (but are not limited to): Naruto JoJo's Bizarre Adventure One Piece Legend of Zelda XCOM: Enemy Unknown/Enemy Within

In addition, I am interested in miscellaneous verses such as: Superhero (Not just Marvel or DC) Cyberpunk (Not just 2077) Sci-Fi (Especially space stuff. I love space.)

[phantomoftheshoppera]

Gallo: ah waht the hell, how are we gonna stop Muse

Fisk: did you ever play the XCom games? I’m proposing we put together a task force of individuals with unique skills - classes you could say. In 5-man teams they could hunt and engage this serial killer in turn-based combat.

[companionwolf]

pride month drabble challenge fill #8

prompts: 18. Nonbinary + 5. Nature + 27. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

fandom: XCOM 2 (gen verse)

TWs/CWs: none

It's after the end of the world and the Commander can't escape that it is.

They can see it, here in this abandoned barn, where the vines creep up the walls and the wood rots and splits. They can see it in the overgrown fields, in the wildflowers that overrun the padlocks.

They can see it in the burnt out truck up the dirt road leading to the old farmhouse, where dust sits heavy on inside and the electricity and water don't run. They can see it in the weather, how the world is cold despite it being June.

The Commander sits out under a tree in the padlock, trying to imagine what it was like when horses or cows or whatever lived here. Central's promised them a chicken coop after all this, after the war. There is no coop here.

Their XO is rummaging through the farmhouse right now, looking for salvageable material. Distantly the Avenger looms, a long shadow, close enough to be comforting to the Commander.

They stand and wander down to the small trickle of a stream near the edge of the property, crouch by the water and drag their fingers through it. It's frigid, and they see no fish.

Something croaks. They look toward the noise. The fattest toad the Commander has ever seen is sitting on a rock on the other bank.

Oh, they have got to catch that motherfucker.

They lunge at it, the toad jumps--

Central, nose deep in a pantry, hears the distant disparate cry of the Commander ad comes running, rifle at the ready. He skids down to the stream and stares at their sopping wet form as they clamber out of the water and shiver. "What the hell?" he asks, looking for the threat.

The Commander hides the toad behind their back. "Close your eyes and open your hands," they say to him.

He stares. They jerk their head at his rifle. "Put that up."

"You screamed," he says.

"Just do what I said," they say.

He sighs, puts the rifle away, holds out his hands. The Commander plops the toad down. "Happy fat fuck Friday!"

"It's Tuesday, Commander," Central says, looking somewhat irate as he hands the toad back to them.

The Commander chides the toad a little as it wiggles in their grasp before leaning down to the water and releasing it; it disappears into the mud.

Central is crossing him arms. "Was that all?" he asks.

"I need new clothes," the Commander murmurs.

"Because you jumped after a frog," says Central. He shakes his head. "What am I going to do with you, Commander?"

"Snuggle me," they say. "Also that was a toad! Not a frog."

He rolls his eyes, but he's smiling now. "C'mon, let's go find you something dry to wear," he says, and the two head back toward the farmhouse.

They find some men's clothes that fit just a bit too big, but the Commander refuses anything else, so Central helps cuff their pants and roll up their sleeves and dries their hair with a ratty towel.

"I wonder if toads have gender," the Commander muses once they and Central move out to the porch, sitting in the sun.

"You're going to make a pun," Central says. "Give me a second to prepare myself."

The Commander shakes their head. "I can't think of anything nonbinary-related that works with toads," they say, frowning. "So no pun today."

Central, leaning against the railing, exhales. "Thank you toad who may or may not have gender," he says.

"You're so mean," the Commander says, but they're smiling at him. "You find anything worthwhile in here?"

"Still looking -- we'll need to come back tomorrow," he says. "Maybe with more people."

"Wouldn't it be easier we sleep here?"

Central looks away. "Doesn't feel super secure," he says. "I'd feel safer on the Avenger."

The Commander is quiet for a moment as they study him. "You probably hate hanging ou in places like this, since you've had to do it so for long, right?" they ask.

Central shrugs.

"I don't like it either," they say. "Not from a wafety perspective though, from a ..." They struggle for how to explain. "It reminds me of what I missed. What happened."

Central nods. "I understand that," he says. "'Least I do the latter part, anyway."

The Commander closes their eyes. The sun is nice, but it's cold out here. If they stand very still, and breathe very quiet, they can almost pretend--

Distant gunfire.

They both stand, Central stiff and weapon drawn, the Commander opening their eyes and sighing.

It's after the end of the world, and what was the world won't let them forget it.

[neon-cold-war]

idea for XCOM 3

liberating other worlds from the alien’s control

[hmsquared]

So I finally started the character list for my XCOM screenplay, and here is what I’ve learned.

Over half of the characters, including the Commander, are female and LGBTQ+.

Not sure whether this is a good or bad thing.

[janeaudron]

I’d like to imagine when Tygan gets lonely in his lab Bradford pops down every once in a while to chat. And by chat it’s just listening to Tygan babble on about his findings and various scientific things. Bradford may not follow along too well and just nods every once in a while and zones out at other times. Tygan would probably figure out he zones out every now and then but doesn’t care. He’s just happy to have some company he can ramble at.

Bonus is Bradford actually learns some things and the “big science-y lingo” and uses them ever now and then and Tygan just cracks a smile when he uses them and in the correct way.

[commanderguixi]

The Big Graphic Novel Writeup.

Spoilers. Massive amounts of spoilers. You’ve been warned.

Below is a list of confirmed things, in no particular order

List of My Headcanons that were Confirmed

- Reaper Celebratory Feasts

- Volk and Elena’s father - daughter like relationship

- The Hunter was a kidnapped Reaper that they injected an overload of information into.

- To some extent, Elena’s crazy unnatural perception.

- It’s a stretch to say that the entirety of my backstory for Elena was confirmed, but she was fighting Chryssalids at 13, which is pretty much damn close enough for me to say that my backstory for Elena is good interpretation of her backstory. It’s fuckin CANON BOYES. This is the most exciting for me because. Like. Boy shit. That was something I entirely constructed on my own with little canon influence. So??? XCOM??? You read my shit??

- Bradford and Volk have a lot of history. Less of a HC as this was alluded to already in the games, but now it’s more canon-confirmed. Moreover the fact that Bradford and Volk got back in touch pre Gatecrasher.

Other Things

- There are four Elders. One that seems to be mainly in charge, and three others. But unlike how I envision the Elders, they are quite harmonious between each other. There’s no animosity. Just a well-oiled working machine. It’s actually pretty damn scary how they exhibit little to no individuality and I kinda like that take.

That being said, I’m keeping Tzaphkiel and Joy acting the way they do. They’re noticeable outliars in the Collective, and the majority do not like their feud. I’ll just tweak the fact that they want their unanimity because the majority DO act like a well oiled machine and THESE two fucks are rotten apples on the branch that they can’t get rid of.

- Tomko is the Hunter. We guessed this.

- The Hunter’s process of ascension seemed to take weeks, which is even worse when you consider how much information they shoved into him. It’s not explicitly said the information was from the Commander, but there’s an enough evidence to imply it.

- I was wrong. The Hunter is bald. And he skipped arm day. But hey! There’s where his damn tattoos are. They’re on the crown of his head.

- Honestly I’m dedicating an entire another paragraph to the Hunter’s body because seeing his arms just made me laugh out loud. Grace, if you’re reading this: This is the unintentional hilarious moment.

He’s a walking skeleton. You can see his ribs. His waist so so tiny. Please redo your work, Elders. This. This isn’t as fan-service as you think it is. This is fan disservice. Here’s my artistic interpretation of the Hunter next to his siblings:

- They.. kept Central’s extremely voluptuous eyelashes, for some reason.

- Back to the Hunter, he’s shown here as being damn loyal. In fact, the only time we get to see him joking is later on out in the field. It’s a cursed interaction to see him be obeying the Elders and the Elders to be cordial.

- Mox was the one to have captured Tomko. And an even more extremely cursed interaction is Mox and the Hunter working together.

- The Hunter’s vision is a constant tactical visual simulation that he can run thousands of times in seconds. Pretty dope.

- Hunter talks to himself.

- Elena recognized the Hunter as Tomko like, immediately.

- Hunter, did not recognize Elena. He has none of Tomko’s memories, so it seems the scare of weird Hunter x Elena content was avoided. Narrowly.

[etherealvoidechoes]

Thinking about my Commanders and their health. So ~~spoilers~~ going forward.

Depending on the AU/Verse, one doesn’t suffer as much as the other three, especially the main boss. But toying with all of them having a bit of a subtle psionic connection with the main Commander due to Asaru and after some things happen, it will sadly drag the most “healthy” Sub-Commander into sharing the tumultuous health degeneration of the others.

And for my Commanders, main and AUs, who were under the Elders’ care, like I’ve said and hinted before, their collective health should be so much worse off to the point that they should be heavily disabled, a vegetable, or outright dead. Capture and traumatic separation from Asaru, numerous preparations and eventual interment into the Psionic Network, and then continued experimentations for the eventual Chosen conversion really did a number on them.

So all of them will need some serious gene therapy with something special to make sure they don’t die post-XCOM 2. They won’t be fully human anymore but beats being dead.

[nyalternatehellkitten]

fairiesofgensokyo replied to your post:

[Sounds like it’s time for more chrysallids!] 

“I’m not sure my wallet can survive my kids collecting anything else...”

“These Chryssalids seem a lot less... endearing... than the Mutons were.”

[marky-aurelius]

Uncertain Outcomes: A Piece

XCOM/R6S/CoD:MW

Hereford Base is one of the last strongholds within the United Kingdom, and acts as a staging ground for the combined efforts to liberate Europe from Advent control. The SAS stationed there have recently bolstered their numbers there, acting as the top guard and administration, while other groups of soldiers come and go in waves.

All of that is about to change - as Advent becomes increasingly hostile to the resistance movement, all military offensives against them in Europe are ground to a halt, and Hereford is prepared for an incoming all-out assault from the massive Advent force occupying London.

The remnants of the XCOM militia mean to intervene on behalf of the free world and reinforce the men of the SAS. In doing so, they hope to turn the tide of the war in humanity's favor.

-------

"Captain Price!"

Four grizzled men looked up from the dark table full of maps and reports, equally irritated and curious looks pointed at the source of interruption standing in the doorway.

"Riley? What is it?"

The soldier in question was panting, his signature balaclava in his fist as he pointed down the hallway.

"Sir! It's Wallcroft - he's got Central on the phone. He wants to speak with Major Baker and Colonel Macmillan."

A round of curses and deep sighs came from the group of veterans, their eyes meeting each other with grim understanding.

"Soap and I will fetch our boys," Price started, indicating his head towards Riley and slapping his hand against the arm of the aforementioned captain next to him. "Head down to the armory and do a check up sweep on the front positions."

Baker nodded at both men, glancing at MacMillan before speaking.

"Right then. Take my boys with you. Catch them up to speed, and then meet us back here in three hours. Mac - shall we?"

ET to Finished - TBD, still a rough WIP

[redlikelove]

So Eliza.. you're quite the pioneer, aren't you? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Eliza sighed. “The way you say that concerns me. That face concerns me.” She mutters something lowly about “Reapers,” but straightens, looking you in the eye.

“I make my decisions carefully and consider every possibility I know of. If that makes me a ‘pioneer’ then I’ll gladly cop to it.” Granted, she knew what was being talked about. She absolutely knew it and she didn’t even want to answer it.

[pieman1112]

URL MUSE PLAYLIST

create a playlist that encompasses your muse using only the letters of your url. ( multi-muse — specify which muse(s) each song makes you think of. ) repost, do not reblog.

For Spartan

Son of a Wolf- Powerwolf

Resilience of Man- Xcom: enemy unknown

Oblivion- Zayde Wolf

Spirit of Fire- Stephen Rippy

I Vow to Thee My Country- Johan Soderqvist

For Rebecca

Soldier Side- System of a Down

Fist Bump- Sonic forces

Until the end- Breaking Benjamin

Green and Blue- Halo 4

My Heart Beats Like a Drum- ATC

Tagged by: ​@abyssal-tide

Tagging: ​@rottingkiss, @rotrioted, @devotedrigelianflower, @sentofight, @psychcdelica, @tomeofwanderers, @lovelornings

[build-a-buddy]

For the lost words blurb- I'd love to hear about PC and Redamancy 💗 -gummibears' main

Redamancy: act of loving in return

@gummibears

TW: Guns, physical violence, swearing.

A/N: this was not actually a good prompt fill - ie relating to the prompt itself - but I’m too pleased with what I did get so I’m posting.

PC, still a little miffed about Moonshine’s disdain with him, gets out of the car, Espeon in his pocket. Alice looks up from where she sits on the island between the front seats.

“Be careful,” she says.

“I will,” says PC.

She nods at him, and he jogs around to the back of the truck, pulling the case haphazard in the truck bed toward him. He opens it, revealing the sword he welded during Operation Leviathan. He takes it out of the case, ignites it - the plasma warms up along the blade.

He shuts the truck bed and walks toward the house. They’re far away from the city now, at a farmhouse on the side of the road miles away from the Beholden’s apartment. The place looks abandoned, sagging grey walls with water damage, boarded up front windows, and a hole in the worn red roof of the barn a hundred yards from the home proper.

Espeon wriggles from PC’s pocket and hops at his side, barely clearing the tall dead grey beige grass with each bound. The grass crunches under his false feet, and he can hear a false heartbeat in his ears.

They reach the porch; Espeon pauses. “I don’t sense anyone in there,” she says after a moment, glow around her felt gem dying as quickly as it came.

“I’ll check here, you go check the barn and come back,” he says.

“Got it,” she says, and begins hopping toward the building in question.

PC finds there is no doorknob, so he pushes a hand against the rotting wooden door; it creaks open, dust swirling around him and shadowy figures of furniture tinted green from the light of the plasma sword as he steps into the dark foyer.

The living room is empty save a coffee table and a ratty couch, and the kitchen when he crosses the floor to stand in its doorway is in disarray, basin dusted and refrigerator missing. There is no sign of anyone living here for a long long time.

“What’s the point of sending us here, then?” he muses out loud as he returns to the living room.

Stairs rise up to a second floor on the left side, and as PC ascends, the flows of the plasma sword lights up the the mark of footsteps in the dust.

It also lights up the sight of blood.

The false heartbeat in him quickens, and he hurries the rest of the way. The blood is spotty, brown, but he still holds his breath as he clears the top step and turns into the hall.

The trail leads to a lone door at the end of the hall, and PC hesitates before reaching for the doorknob.

There’s more blood here, fresh enough that it’s still vaguely red in the green shine of the plasma sword, but not wet when he kneels to touch it. PC glances around, swallowing hard.

The room is empty. Bare white beige walls, wooden floor, spiderwebs in a corner. There’s a small length of rope on the floor near the blood; PC picks it up with his free hand, rubbing it between his fingers. There’s a window, too; he moves to it and stares out into the empty field. At the edge, forest begins.

“Really don’t get it,” he says out loud.

The door slams open behind him. PC spins in the direction of the sound, dropping the rope and bringing the sword up to chest level. He exhales as he sees it’s Espeon who’s rammed her way into the room. She looks as frustrated as he feels.

“Nothing?” he asks. She nods.

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why make us come all this way...?”

“Could be a trap,” she says.

“Wouldn’t they have sprung it by now?”

She shrugs at him. “M—“

Whatever she was going to say is lost to him as the sound of a sniper rifle cracks through the air, through the window, through PC’s chest.

“Oh, good,” he says after a moment. “I thought we were done with guns. After the whole aliens thing.”

“Where the fuck are they shooting from?” Espeon says, clambering up his body to his shoulder, narrowly avoiding another shot that passes through his Awakening-given arm (no actual injury, just phantom pain and blood).

PC charges down the stairs and out of the house, sword ready, ignoring the feeling of imagined blood pouring out of his chest wound. He can feel Awakening flickering at the edges of the hole, feel it slowly restitching together.

As soon as he rounds the house into the field toward where the gunfire came from, another bullet comes at him, striking him in the abdomen. He swears; Espeon fires a ball of Psionic energy back in the shot’s direction.

Maybe they’re up in a tree, PC thinks.

He reaches the tree line, hunches behind a trunk, both hands now gripping the sword hilt.

Somewhere, a twig snaps.

Espeon leaps from his shoulder at the noise; once he’s sure she’s clear, he swings the sword blindly as multiple series of footsteps come at him—

PC wakes up in darkness.

His limbs are gone, there is only his core pillow self, squished into a space much smaller then he is. The sword is gone. Espeon is gone. The Hoard is not here. The Beholden isn’t either.

He strains to listen, hears nothing.

He strains to see, sees nothing.

“Alice?” he says.

The darkness breathes.

“So it can speak,” a voice answers.

A hand roughly grabs him by the area near his printed ear and lifts and he is brought into bright artificial light. He squints, squirms, feels his chest burn.

A choked noise sounds somewhere and his heart thuds to the ground at it - that’s the Beholden. He can’t see them yet, but that’s them.

Someone grunts, a deep male voice, and the Beholden whimpers.

Anger replaces fear. He blinks furiously to get his vision back.

They’re in a empty room, save the Beholden tied up in a chair at the center, a man standing near them with a baton. A second human is holding PC, fingers digging into the pillow’s self.

“Beholden—“ PC starts.

The Beholden shakes their head at him, and then yelps as the baton smashes against their knee. He glances over them- their eyes are dark, their face is bloodied, their legs are bruised. They look sick and tired.

“Beholden, it’s going—“

“Shut up!” they say, and it’s a cracked crying noise. The man with the baton swings it at their head, and they crumple in the seat.

The man holding him turns PC so he’s looking up into the human’s face. Cold grey eyes, a chiseled jaw, a chipped tooth when the man smiles.

“So the dog toy and the child weren’t lying,” he says.

“The what?”

“Me and Loaf,” groans the Beholden, before another sharp thwack sounds against their skull from the baton holding man, and they go silent.

“Leave them alone!” PC says, and it’s frantic.

“We’re done with them anyway,” says the baton man, and he tucks into a pocket. “It’s you we want.”

“Look, if you need something, you could just—“

The man holding him tightens the grip. “We were going to rule the world,” he says.

“What?”

“The Elders said we would be alongside them,” he continues. “We would be top of ADVENT, and when they were done with this world, we would move on with them to the next.”

“Oh, you’re collaborators,” says PC.

“But you killed them,” the baton man says. He is scowling. “You took that from us. You, who aren’t even a person.”

“You know the Elders aren’t — you know about AVATAR, don’t you?”

“We would be spared,” the man holding him says. “We are useful. Were useful. Are.” The grip tightens even more. “You ruined everything we had.”

“We’re going to get it all back,” baton man says.

“What - the world?”

The men look at each other. “Humans are flawed,” says the one holding you, “but they can provide aid. Refuge. You of all beings understand this too.

His eyes glow purple. The faint projection of a Ethereal rises above him, staring down.

“Shit,” PC says.

“Occupy him,” says the man to his bonded Ethereal. The purple gleam of his eyes blaze—

— and the world shifts just slightly as PC is dropped unceremoniously onto the floor.

He hefts himself up, feeling sick, which is impressive since he doesn’t have the organs to feel much of anything with.

He looks around nervously. They’re in that same empty room with the bright white light, but the men are gone— vanished. The Beholden has been removed from the chair and is slumped against a wall, hands and legs still tied together.

He shuffle hops toward them, manages to conjure a Awakened arm, a hand, and gingerly reaches out to touch them. Their head lolls as he caresses their cheek.

He feels shame burn like the bullet in his chest does still. “Wake up,” he says, although he is not even sure he is awake himself, if this is real, or a trick, or—

The Beholden makes a pitiful moaning noise. He works at the ropes on them, tugs them free, and then lifts their chin with his conjured hand so that they’re facing him.

“Wake up,” he says again. “Please, please, wake up.”

Hazel eyes flicker once, twice; he exhales as their gazes focused unfocuses focuses on him.

“PC,” they mumble, moving their face away. They rub at their wrists and ankles. “You—“

“Don’t talk,” he says. “I think they might have given you a- a concussion or something. Can you see me? I mean, obviously you know I’m here but—“

“You’re too ... loud,” the Beholden says, sounding woozy, and then collapses forward onto him. He lets himself deflate a little under their weight.

“Are you ok?” he asks. “What did they do to you?”

“Chosen bullshit,” they say.

He frowns. “That’s from the expansion,” he says. “That came out after the base game of XCOM 2.”

“The Elder’s Chosen,” the Beholden says, as if they are repeating something they’ve heard. “They... they’re psionic. They can do brain stuff. To your brain. Oh my god I want to sleep.”

“Did they do... brain stuff to you?”

They nod.

PC feels his eyes prickling with false tears.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t fast enough. I —“

“‘S okay,” the Beholden says. “I don’t think those guys are Chosen. I mean, maybe they’re analogous, but I think they’re just hosting.”

A pause. “You’re hosting too. I’m not really talking to a pillow... I’m talking to an Ethereal instead, right? Right...”

“No,” PC says.

“Hmm,” the Beholden answers. “I’m not used to audibly hearing objects but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“We’ve always been like this,” he says. “We just kept it secret.”

“Like Toy Story?

“Exactly.”

The Beholden exhales into the back of his head. “Can I nap on you? You’re comfortable and they’ve keep me awake for a really long time.”

Every part of him wants to say no, wants to make them both get up and start walking around and trying to figure out if this is even reality but...

“Sure, Beholden,” he says, and feels a thrill as they work an arm around him for added comfort. “We can sit here and rest for a while.”