Let's get brutally murdered by B-movie aliens in XCOM: Enemy Unknown!

Pass it on when you can. No strain now. Apparently that's bad for recovery.

And I'm fine, redhead. Ask Enjolras, I'm always like this. Happiest when I am falling over drunk. Keep doing so well keeping him alive, though, and I might just have to tell you how it's done with the frogs. More of a steak man myself, really. As for our respective aim... hrm... all we have as training was a crash course using muskets while standing on rickety barricades made of café furniture. We're used to needing more... manual correction.
*chuckle*
Why, do you already find the flag so stirring you think that alone can change your mind? Enjolras has that effect on people.

Landis has a million pockets on her person beneath the outer exterioir of her uniform. From one of them she produces a pad and pen.

"Here, take these. Don't squirm around too much while you're healing."

Toni looks pensive.

"Redhead... I just realized despite working together this long, none of us have really introduced ourselves to each other. I learned your name from Enjorles, and vice-versa."

She turns to the other two in the room a bit seriously.

"My name's Antonia, you know? Not that anyone calls me so. Apparently, it's too much trouble to say anymore than 'Toni.'"

She leans back in her chair a moment and closes her eyes.

"I don't have to be blackout drunk to be comfortable. But I think maybe if we have time between these missions finally, it'd be fun to get messed up with you once. Heh."

She takes a long, soothing drag off her pilfered scotch at that thought.

"Muskets, you say? Talk about antiquated... I'd swear you two were about 300 years old sometimes. Strangest men I've ever met. Not that that's a bad thing. It certainly keeps life intersting."

((You guys need to stop being awesome while I'm asleep.))

Grantaire! I have made it back alive, as you have requested. It is... Good to see you again. Perhaps... it would be best if we both stayed here for this next mission. They appear to have all the troops they need, and we shall rest and recover for the next mission.

No, "rest and recover" does not mean drink yourself into a stupor. Bottle. Down.

Don't forget Marius. He may not have been the most dedicated member of our cause, but he died on the barricades like the rest of us. It's not like there's any way he could have been rescued, after all.

And that old man, the one who risked his life for our cause. It is a shame I never got to thank him properly. And Gavroche, of course. And the Thenardier girl whose name escapes me, I suppose.

...but yes. We have been given a second chance, and we must not waste it. By continuing to drink ourselves useless, for example.

Toni leans in to listen to this a bit with furrowed brows.

"What's all this? I knew you two had history, but this all sounds..."

She doesn't even have a word to describe it.

"Hey, 'into a stupor' is not the only way to drink. And some people are much worse off sober."

Something she may personally know something about. She raises her glass to the other two drinking beside her before taking another sip.

"Sure you wouldn't like a hit of something mild, Enjorles? I promise to be gentle with you if it's your first time."

That got weird fast. We're still talking about alcohol, right?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/June_Rebellion

That may be so, but if there is Grantaire has never heard of it.

...

((Enjolras chastely lowers his eyes before all that is not the republic.))

Toni shrugs cheerfully.

"Grantaire has a vendetta against his liver."

For the second time since joining the crew, Antonia smiles, deviously this time.

"Oh goodness boy, am I that intimidating? How old are you anyway? You act like a little boy who's been caught peeking at his sister's friend while trading bras..."

Now there's some imagery for ya. She sighs a bit and takes another sip.

"I don't get why men are so freaked out by me... I'm not so bad.. Am I?"

Another shurg, then she offers out her glass again.

"You know what really takes that nervous edge off? Liquor."

((You know what's funny about this conversation? I'm the staunch sober one IRL most people try to convince to have a drink.))

((Well, she does have a French flag on the back of her armour...))

Twenty-two, though I've been told I look seventeen. And I think I am finished with this line of thinking, thank you.

You should speak to Grantaire; women are more his forte, or at least he likes to think so.

((EXCELLENT POINT. xD))

Landis actually laughs a bit. She has a hearty laugh that fills the room.

"You DO look like a little unspoilled baby! Ahaha, so precious, I could pinch your cheeks!"

She elbows her french friend.

"I might, but honestly, all I hear him talk about is YOU. I don't know what what you've done to him, but as far as I can tell, he only has eyes for you! Gotta admire that kind of dedication, I suppose."

She shrugs once more.

"It's not just boys, I guess nobody really takes well to me. Perhaps I've got something to learn from you. Not that I'm leader material... Tried that once. I failed. Messed a couple people up with my incompetence."

Really? This is news.

((Hilarity of hilarity I haven't actually touched a drink my entire life. The closest thing I've been to drunk is watching my classmates rolling under tables raving about rye bread and trying to get everybody to drink at least some water so they wouldn't vomit on my shoes. So now you know why I don't write a very convincing drunkard!)

Useful drinks for Enjolras. Promise, this just fizzles when you open it. Nothing for the palette at all, and believe me, I tried, It wasn't attempted hidden, either, which is always the giveaway. Did you two have a nice chat while I'm away? Must have had, I can see your marble's going pink, old friend. Did you mention Marius when I was going? I guess. Doesn't really matter who believed in the end. Dead is dead. Bullets didn't care Combeferre never wanted to see it escalate into a fight, that Prouvaire would cry if he accidently stepped on a bug, or even that that fancy Inspector Javert was a snake. 's all shit.
*frown*
What was that, Antonia, then? I remind you, you're in staunch company as far as messing up goes.

...no comment.

And yes, let us talk about Grantaire's incompetencies now. It would certainly make for a lengthy conversation.

((Tragic backstory! GO!))

((You know what's kinda funny about all our jokes about me being an unqualified doctor/engineer/scientist?

In real life, I have a law degree. But to be a practicing lawyer, one also has to pass the bar exam to join the State Bar. However, my chosen career path didn't require me to join the Bar, despite being legal in nature, technically making me an unqualified and unlicensed lawyer =P))

(Which in an odd way makes the character who's defined by pretending to be what they're not the character closest to not being the writer pretending to be what they're not.)

(I think this sentence made my head explode.)

((You are most definitely not alone))

(I would post a certain Scanners gif but it's probably a little too gross.)

((Took me like 20 tries to get a post through. I am sick of fighting with this server.))

((Leading a bunch of kids to their death in france defintely means Enjorles has her beat. Also, amazing, art imitating life. You unlicensed professional!))

Toni raises an eyebrow and prods Enjorlas once more.

"As his superior, any of Grantaire's failures actually reflect on your own incompetance as a leader. Are you still so quick to tout him knowing every taunt mocks yourself?"

Her buzz is wearing off, she's debating Enjorlas again.

"You two couldn't be more different, could you?"

Grantaire certainly is more cynical.

"Hmm? Oh, about my screw up? Well, I learned that I'd make a terrible parent, if my brother and sister are any indication. One's in prison, the other... Well, I lost contact with her a while back. I think she's in Asia. Somewhere."

Now, now... can't fault a leader if he can't make a man listen. Worse men than he tried and failed. I was pronounced impossible years ago. Enjolras is... I usually listen, if I'm sober. Usually. When terrible luck has me sober. I've always given him a rough shake. Hard to blame his exas... papa... thing... with me in those circumstances. Drink up, kiddo. Cheers.

Family, you say? Wouldn't know. Priviledged only child, as luck would have it. I'm sure my parents were thrilled the line ended shot to death in a wine cellar shomewhere. At least you made the attempt. Ask Enjolras, that would count for sh... some... thing. Me, I'm an ends kind of man. Motivation never was my thing. Not much wrong with going to prison anyway. Probably where they'd have put us, if we survived.

I do not choose who I lead. If a loud-mouthed drunkard decides to hang on my every word while I attempt to actually accomplish something, I do not have any say in the matter.

I assure you all my men-- not children, as you so quickly insult them-- were there of their own accord and died noble, brave deaths. Myself included.

((Also, did you get a musical written about you? I DON'T THINK SO.))

The toad looks to heaven to see the bird fly, or somesuch. It is a shame Combferre and Prouvaire are... no longer with us, so to speak; I'm sure they would have delighted analyzing our differences in the most poetic of manners.

Skepticism has not left one idea in his mind.

Antonia's look shifts to one of uneasy concern as she listens.

"It's hard to comprehend you when you've had too much. You speak as though you've already died. I don't know what it is you two've seen, but I count myself lucky I wasn't there."

She crosses her arms over her chest and rolls the ice around her otherwise empty glass looking thoughtful.

"As far as parents, you're probably ahead of me. Can't remember much about our father. He was dead or ran off on us or.. Something. I became the man of the house, as the oldest. Mother was kind of an absentee parent, until she died when I was 17. I'm sure my siblings hated every day I was in charge. They did all but say as much, then ran off as soon as they got the opportunity."

She says it all with her usual, apathetic tone and lack of enthusiasm. Her eyes stare distantly at the wall in front of her as she recalls her life.

"My stupid brother had so much more potential than a jail cell. Too stubborn and impatient to care about any of that though. My sister... Well, she was a mystery to me. I guess we were never close. Maybe she has a better shot though. She tended to stay out of trouble and do better than the boy."

Her gaze fades back to reality and the Frenchmen in her company.

"Actually, you two make me feel a little like I'm back home. Stubborn hedonist and a puzzling babe, you'd be suitable stand-ins for my family. The only thing left to do is ignore me and wander off. As nice as it was to finally have my own life and get to continue school, I still feel like I screwed up. And I surely haven't gotten anywhere now that I am my only responsibility."

She stops her idle movements and looks very blank.

"I'm going to die a nothing at the hands of an alien and no one will care or remember me. Damn. I defintely screwed up somewhere."

She eyes the door unhappily.

"I wonder how the others are doing in preparing for the mission? I imagine they'll be leaving before long... I won't be able to sit still until they're home safely. I hate not being there to watch over them."

"You certainly are hard on a man who scarcely has an ill word for you. I don't envy his position!"

An ill word for me, no. For our country, for the revolution, for Patria?

A man who would rather throw his life down a wine bottle than serve a higher call is of no use to me.

((Not that Grantaire minds. As long as he has a good view of Enjolras' angelic marble face, he couldn't care less what words comes out of it.))

But I agree. It will be a sleepless night until the others return safely.

(Tangentially related, Enjrolas has apparently had tenure as an alien.)

Mmm... what he says. The caries of intelligence, they call it, skepticism. You get it if you're bright, but have too much and it eats the source away. That's why I try to drink and erode my intelligence. Might emerge one day with idealism. Can't have caries with no teeth, right? *sigh* Knowing Poruvaire he'd have a page and verse already. Stupid boy didn't have any business holding a gun. Less so getting captured,.. a remarkably unromantic death that was.

*chuckle* Happy to oblige. Have to chase off the demons somehow, though, and maybe that's what he was trying to do, so it had nothing to do with you, presh... isely. I wouldn't worry too much. You did well so far. And I... I'm fairly sure we aredead. I remember... being aimed at. It was somewhere else, though. I suppose there should be bullet holes, too. Maybe the Commander is right, maybe I am insane. Maybe we both are. At least then I'd have ample reason to drown in the dregs and he'd have ample reason to pout. Bottom's up!

(The marble face is pretty much number one on his priority list followed by shooting Aaron in the ass and drinking.)

You two worry too much. No one's died so far. And I thought, fearless leader, what matters in the end is the cause, not the lives lost on the way.

((Michael Maguire can lead my revolution any time he wants.))

I... I remember this too. Dying, no. But everything before. I don't understand any better than you do, but I believe that some higher power has granted us a second chance, and we would be fools not to take it.

Perhaps...

Perhaps I do not want to see another group die before me.

(I may or may not have found it looking for pictures of him as Enjolras on Broadway...)

*Grantaire is uncharacterically quiet for time*

... no one could have foreseen how that went down, Enjolras. You told everyone they could just go home if they didn't want to make a stand. We all knew the price, all who stayed. God damn it... you can't save the whole world on your own. Don't you understand? Can't you ever understand that? And... look at it this way, then, to hell with it... maybe the second chance is to help these folks literally save the world. Perk up. That's a cause if anything, right?

((Not to impose RP on anyone who doesn't want it, but Teddybear, DK and Jackie-girl have been producing some fantastic stuff, and it would totally make my day to see more of it! That said however, please don't feel pressured to RP if you don't want to!))

((On a related note, if anyone is interested in RP'ing but doesn't want to play a soldier, feel free to RP one of the base staff such as an engineer or a scientist or whatever :) ))

Antonia can't help chuckling under her breath at Enjorlas as she finally refills her empty glass.

"Oh child, you're so uptight you could open a Pepsi can on that ass. Loosen up a little. Every person, and every country has flaws. And no person is 'without use.' You shouldn't take him for granted. You'll regret it."

Ominous...

"Hmph, I prefer to be a tortured, intelligent skeptic over a brainwashed zealot any day."

At notes of his apparent death, Toni furrows her brows and forces Grantaire into a short and rough little examination. She looks over his eyes, inspects him for bullet holes, pinches him to get a reaction, then jabs two fingers at his neck to be sure of a pulse. Once satisfied, she slaps him hard in the arm and sits back again.

"You're fine, don't cause me so much worry. You really ARE like my brother. Behave yourself, for my heart's sake."

She looks unsettled again by his rephrasing of Enjorlas's philosophy.

"What a horrible thought, that anyone's life lacks value. Such a fragile and limited thing, one's life. Who taught you these terrible things, Enjorlas?"

"Thank god for it."

At this, she raises her glass in toast and takes a sip.

Have you begun to believe in more than me, Grantaire? I suppose miracles do happen.

And you are right. We must put the past behind us and concentrate on our new goal, our new cause: protecting the people who inhabit our Earth from this new threat.

...do you think it might be possible... Perhaps... That the others might have come back, too? In a different time, a different place?

I did not say his life lacks any value. He is surely valuable to the winemakers he keeps in business, or even perhaps to one of those girls he insists on ogling. But a man who can sleep through an entire revolution without so much as picking up a gun to save his fellow man is of no use to me, personally. I do not claim to speak for the entire world.

Our lives are valuable, but they are merely pawns upon the great chessboard of war and revolution. If my death helped to further the cause of the people, to overthrow the swells who once ran my country and oppressed its people... That would be the most valuable thing of all.

And what do you believe in, mademoiselle?

((Seriously, guys, this is way too much fun. And not just because it means I get to look up a bunch of pictures of Enjolras *fans self*))

((Well timed. I was about to ask if you felt we were clogging up the thread and talking too much. I shall take that as a 'no', then XD))

Actually skepticism is a great way to SEEM intelligent without being it. You can look really blasted clever just tearing down everything everyone else built and never have a thought of your own. That's... what I do, really. I'm the idealistic vacuum, but maybe it's a necessary challenge, too, to challenge the idealism, to make sure it's real. Bah, will you listen to that crock? I'm disgustingly sober. And what in the world are you-
...
Hah. Well, I checked. There's no holes NOW. Everything works as it used to. No need to worry for anyone who isn't immediately in front of me when I fire. And trust me, dying ranges fairly far down on my priority list. Even further down than finishing my education. The Commander seemed pretty insistent that's a waste of time anyway after the hot scienctist lady handed out that 'scope'.

I always believed in the fullness of my class, dear friend. That is concrete. That can be controlled.
*All the same, he seems to be smiling fondly at his success at firing up his better half's sense of idealism*
... well, why not? If a higher power did this I'm fairly sure I was the last one it'd send anywhere. if things came full circle, it probably started with you and ended with me and the others are out there somewhere. Well, knowing Courfeyrac, he's probably halfway through every woman's bed wherever he came to land, but...

((And Jacque, never stop slamming Grantaire. I am in stitches over Enjolras' epic Revolutionary Burns.))

((Yeah, I was about to ask the same thing XD But as long as Snark's enjoying it, I won't worry.

Enjolras? Stop slamming Grantaire? I think not.))

Oh, and Mlle. Antonia? My name is an-zhol-rahs. Not "En-jor-lez." Since you mentioned you would like a formal introduction.

((My rp skills are rusty, but I'll try to do my best. XD))

Logan had not been paying much attention to the conservation going on around her, focused more on writing that list of supplies Grantaire wanted. She had never been great at multitasking. It was actually quite nice to focus on something so mundane, something that had nothing to do with survival or killing some nightmarish creature that did not have the good sense to remain dead. Maybe it was for the best that she missed the discussion about whether or not Grantaire had died before. It would be a shame if she had to put him down after putting all that work into writing this list. Plus, even though she would not admit it, she would kind of miss the big lug.

Once she had finally finished, she tore the sheet loose and held it out for Grantaire. "Sorry to interrupt, but here's what I would need. Well, the basics of what I would need, anyway."

Operation Shining Lecherous Mountaintop



XCOM's first ever bomb diffusion mission will be headed by Banana and Sofaer, with Pavel and Accompli providing support. Banana didn't manage to kill a great number of Xrays last mission, and is keen on remedying that here. Sofaer on the other hand, is fresh out of surgery and claims to now have an, "ass of steel." I'm not sure whether this was a figure of speech, or if he has literally become Megaman's newest rival, Ass Man.

Pavel and Accompli have been training hard at base, but this will be their first real sortie. I still haven't fully figured out Pavel, but I think he's a hardcore LARPer or something. And as far as Accompli is concerned, I can only hope this isn't a night mission, as her hairs going to light up like a Christmas tree.



Our mission; delay the detonation by deactivating power nodes, defuse the bomb and kill the bad guys. Also, don't die.



Touchdown.



Sofaer spots a humming, glowing alien device. Dr. Shen tells us it's a power node for the bomb, and that deactivating it will slow down the detonation. He also informs us that we have but three minutes before the bomb explodes.

...how the hell did he figure all that out just by looking at the damn thing? For all we know, it could be an alien lava lamp!



Sofaer moves in to deactivate the device, buying us precious extra minutes. In the meantime, the rest of the team slowly advance. Unfortunately, we have two conflicting priorities; advance slowly to avoid running into an enemy ambush and advanced quickly so that the bomb doesn't blow us the hell up.



While I sent most the team around the diner (with Sofaer spotting and deactivating another node in the process), I ordered Pavel to search inside the building for any nodes or aliens.



Sofaer and Banana advance further and deactivate yet another node. Meanwhile, Pavel claimed to have heard something coming from the diner storeroom and moves in to investigate, with Accompli close by as backup.



Slowly peering inside, he spots not only a node, but a mysterious figure in the shadows...!



Hey! It's Harvey Lemmings, my accountant! Hey Harvey! What are you doi-



HARVEY!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! THAT MAN SAVED ME $20 IN TAXES LAST YEAR!!!!



Insisting my accountant was somehow an alien, Pavel coldly steps over the poor man's corpse and deactivates the node.

He claims that some pungent, corrosive liquid is leaking out of Harvey's corpse, but given how Pavel also thinks he's a knight from a fictional country, I have doubts about his sanity.

...I'm going to have talk to Pavel about this. And also find a new accountant.

Now I see the purpose of shimmering blue hair: it's to make sure my team recognizes me, and doesn't "accidentally" shoot me as an alien infiltrator in the heat of battle.

(Ass Man. Now there's a franchise I'd love to see. And what the fuck WAS that thing and why does it look like Sid Meier?)

Speaking of women, there's a sight for dry throats! Gentleman, ladies, excuse me. I have foraging and pillaging to see to. I, for one, see no reason to sit and bite nails while we wait and see if the others make it back. I don't think it really makes a difference. If you do, though, Logan, help yourself to the Chardonnay. Nerves are a wretched thing.

((I keep forgetting to do this at the start of each mission, but tagging Anabanana, AaronSofaer and Mind Elemental just in case they aren't aware that their characters are in a mission now))

Operation Shining Lecherous Mountaintop (Part 2)



While Pavel was busy murdering my accountant, Sofaer spotted an Xray lookout on the rooftop.





I'm not sure if it's the metal ass, but Sofaer has been on fire this mission!



With the lookout down, the team advance towards the warehouse, where they report hearing a strange hum emanating from within; we may have found our bomb!







I order the team to get into position to storm the building.





Kicking down the door, we come face to face with not just the bomb but our intrepid bomber as well!





Wasting no time, Accompli scores her first kill; her hair ensured the room was well lit enough for the rest of the team to check out her skills as well.



Unfortunately, our team didn't notice a solitary Xray hiding in the walkway above. The bastard took the chance to fire a shot at Banana, seriously wounding her in the process.



Whatever the case, he obviously didn't wound her enough to prevent her from returning fire and killing him.



With all hostiles dead, Accompli shuts down the bomb. Mission accomplished! Great work guys-



Well, shit.

((Challenge accepted!))

Deep within the bowels of- well, okay, on the first floor of XCOM headquarters, but mostly because the lazy-ass engineering staff hadn't gotten deep bowels made yet, a young man with a wild shock of hair works fervently into the night, ready to support the suicidal brave front-line troops with a myriad of wonderful devices...

Just as soon as they stop exploding.

"I'm telling you, every time I get this blasted thing small enough to do anything but mount it on a freaking Skyranger, it destabilizes so bad it's practically useless."

He watches through the blast shield as the robot arms complete their last modifications to the rifle on the counter.

"It's almost like the damn thing gets MORE explosive the smalle-"

The seemingly inevitable explosion interrupts him, but elicits hardly more than a blink.

"... Wait. That gives me an idea, actually. Cut the next design in half and try to add a timing device of some sort. Nothing too fancy, mind. It's not like any of US will be throwing the damn things."

Yay! We won! I shot a dude and we didn't even need a medkit and--

...oh.

Well. More shooting means more practice at shooting, which makes us better at shooting, so...it's all for the best. Really.

So. Uhm. *cough* How many med-kits did we bring on this mission again? :D

Excuse me?! I'm BLEEDING here, in case you haven't noticed!

Didn't need a medkit! Before! I mean, if we'd flown out at that point, everything would've been fiiiine.

(Lemme see what I can do. Maybe I can become a medic! That's how it works, right?)

One. Everyone else is enjoying the marvel of technology the Science Division released to field testing usage last R&D cycle, the S.C.O.P.E.

So, my advice: Shoot fast enough they don't have time to horribly slaughter you all.

Alternatively, try to leave relatively intact corpses so the autopsy will at least be entertaining informative.