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

Just to spite you, John, I'm going to get myself blown up in the most unrecognizable way possible. You hear that, commander? I'll consider it a failure if my brain isn't found at least twelve feet from my spine.

Happy hunting! Fair warning, there may not be any Chardonnay left when you get back.

((You deserve all the likes, sir! :D))

Aren't you a metamorph, Banana? Why don't you just become some ungodly abomination? That should be plenty entertaining for our science guys. Man, this is really good Chardonnay.

I can work with that. I've got a preliminary design for armored robot drones piloted by disembodied brains to save on computer programming time.

What a great idea, Logan! The point of my entire existence is to provide amusement for maggots I mean mortals after all. I know, we should incorporate you in the display as well! About half of my repertoire requires me to be draped in at least a few feet of human intestine in order to have their full impact, and I think your Chardonnay-coated insides would go beautifully with my [REDACTED] [REDACTED], especially the [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED].

...hello, commander? Forget about getting all of us back out alive, can't I just, you know, swallow a bomb and run into the middle of the Xray horde all by myself? With any luck there'll be nothing left but partially-digested Xray stomach contents...

((If Ana dies, can she keep forever coming back in a new body?))

((That would be hilarious))

Now, now, don't think I can't hear you all whispering through the fourth wall, there! You seem to think that the existence of an interdimensional supragalactical being of the highest order such as myself is humorous, don't you? Well, let me tell you what my idea of funny is. See, I'm breaching the city hall in a certain other dimension right now, and it would be oh so tragically funny if I let my godly finger slip on the touchpad and send a certain scientist of dubious qualifications and his princess to clear the building swarming with about a hundred soulless ones all by themselves, wouldn't it? Wouldn't it?

((Are you shipping Snark and Zelda

Zelda cares not if you kill her, but spare her precious Javert. He's the E to her R.))

Enjolras wakes up from his nap (Grantaire sleeping at his feet, of course) in a cold sweat, after having a nightmare that sometime in another life he was a sparkly magical princess...

((I...oh god, what have we wrought??))

Well, this all going just swimmingly! They can do the grunt work, and I'll take the promotions! Humbly provide them with leadership and support from bas-Huh? What do you mean I have to get out there to be considered for promotions?!....Fine. Very well, I'll just lead a team d-OUT RANKED?! Wha-THEM?! PROMOTIONS? THIS WILL NOT STAND!

Aherm. Commander, it is by no means my place to question your decisions, but I can't help but find it worrying that the team deployed to neutralize the X-ray terrorist bombing seemed to consist of a LARPER, a woman who claims to be a Goddess among fruit, and woman whose hair attracts landing planes.

And while I would never dream of gainsaying a brilliant man of science and valor such as your self-Not only a brilliant doctor, but a first-rate engineer and tactician as well!-I feel the unwashed masses' fears might be more assuaged if, perhaps, next time, someone a bit more qualified were to be on point next mission.

May I just say, sir, that is a brilliant mustache.

(You mean he isn't always? *ducks from waving flag*)

Okay, I'm back, whaddiyi miss...? Got dish-racked diggin'... schwimming... that new schience guy... yelling shtuff... woo. Scho! How ish the team, and why isch that boddel empty?

(Davian's idea of drunk speak; apply German phonetics.)

You can't know what you missed, since we are not on the mission and would not be receiving play-by-plays of the action complete with commentary. Obviously.

The bottle is empty because you have managed to outdo yourself in alcohol consumption. Congratulations. I would give you a prize, but I think I shall save it for your inevitable future liver transplant.

What, no... more touching... family... stories... My thongue feelsh a bit big... *clears throat* Does... that mean... no updatesh on the bar progresh? There'sh another mission on? More importa... import.... ly... whazza a tran-plant?

((Clearly Enjolras has been speaking to the ship's doctors to get an idea of the world of modern medicine. Did you know they use pain-killers in tooth pulling now? How novel!))

*Sigh* Go back to sleep, Grantaire.

*mutters to himself* "When I find the wise-ass who thought the best use of our experimental trooper cloning vats was creating nineteenth century literary Frenchmen, there will be a round of firings. As an added bonus, it will be a good workout for the Phoenix II prototype.

If you check the command center, messieurs, or even a personal terminal somewhere appropriate, you should find live stream of the field reports, such as they are.

I find it an amusing diversion essential tool to preparing for incoming wounded and noting deficiencies in the men equipment.

(He would. It's a more intelligent use of his time than trying to get Grantaire off the bottle.)

That, fearless leader, I can do. Ladies, funny little gremlin man with funny hair, gentleman, I shall be off to... wait, everyone else is drowning in a stream...? Second thought, don't care, don't need to know. Je vais au lit maintenant! Viva la pillows!

(Good luck explaining the concept of TV. I imagine it'll be as easy as explaining Prince George about theater XD)

((Headcanon: somewhere in the lab there is some sort of person-creating machine, and the person in charge of it is a Les Mis fangirl. This person is also responsible for creating all the fictional people in Zafehouse; all the ones deemed unsuitable for fighting aliens were dumped in the zombie-infected town, in order to dispose of them quickly.))

And I'm not... Completely sure what you're saying. I shall just wait for our comrades to return, hopefully victorious in battle.

... After contemplating two viable potential futures, one in which I explain to a drunk and an idealist from revolutionary France what a live stream or a computer is, and one in which I do not and instead return to my work of creating larger and more dangerous explosions that will hopefully be intentional this time, I choose the latter.

Why don't you two go fight the Jets or whatever you people are supposed to do.

The revolutionaries are in gear,
Our muskets are clickin'!
The National Guard'll steer clear
'Cause ev'ry Royalists' a lousy chicken!

Hmm, no, I think not.

((My server problems are getting worse. It took a half hour and 30+ tries to log in tonight. I can't imagine how many tries it will take to post. If things keep on this way, I may have to bow out of the RP.))

Toni offers a jovial laugh again.

"A man so black out drunk he can sleep through a revolution is my kind of man. Then at least no matter how many women he oogles, you know it'sunlikely he'll get far enough to make good on anything implied by his eyes. Ahahaha!"

Landis may or may not be developing an unhealthy crush on Grantaire. I wouldn't point this out to her though. What do I know, I'm just a narrator.

She points at Enjorlas, snapping her fingers.

"And just who's going to enjoy and maintain this unopressed society you're so keen on creating if you're all rotting in a heap? If you were wise, you'd find a way to to live and fight opression, not throw away your lives to a cause out the gates. Any world in any time would be 'peaceful' if all it's inhabitants were dead. Not my kind of ideal."

She looks pensive at that last thought.

"What do I believe in? Good question... Myself, I guess? If one cannot rely on themself, they have no hope for the rest of their life. Other people, words, images, they lie. One has to be able to think for themself to really find peace."

"I miss education! I left my education for THIS. And that scope helped me pick off that alien that was coming for Dee, so I'm not complaining. And there was 100% less ass-shooting once we got them."

There was a pointed lok added to that last comment, though she's aware it is ignored.

((Now, there's a porn name. Somebody write that down.))

"Oh honey, I can't deal with the French language sober, let alone with a glass or two in me. But it's lovely to meet you."

((That's more might fault than hers. I know nothing of French and even less about Les Mis. I'm surprised I haven't commited more heinous typos and mistakes than I have.))

"Oh, you're awake! And here I thought you were resting like a good patient!"

She chuckles, offering a kind smile. She really was relieved the young soldier seemed relatively unphased by her injuries.

What.

"I may have to examine this later. For science. Hot damn."

"Ass Man. Now there's a nickname you won't be shaking anytime soon, AaronSofaer."

((EVERYTHING IS BETTER WHEN YOU GET HERE. What took you so long!?))

Edit: I think it took me 2 and a half hours to get this post to go through. :D FML, I was having so much fun, and it looks like I can't play anymore.

(Grantaire is like a big, drunken fungus that grows on you. I didn't know what the hell to DO with him when I started this and now I sit and seriously plan character arcs for him. And it took me a year to learn how to spell Enjolras. I couldn't for the life of me remember it wasn't Enroljas, let ALONE spell Combeferre without help. Sometimes I wonder if Javert is so popular because his name is easier to spell...

Seriously sucks about your browser, though. Can you run checks somehow, see if it's a BF specific issue or some issue with the computer or the network? Not that I'm much use at tech support as it is.)

((Arrgh, that sucks. You're one of the best parts. Somebody had better pick up the "fighting with Enjolras" slack if you do.))

((I wouldn't point this out to Enjolras, either. He's got the monopoly on Unhealthy Grantaire Crushes. HANDS OFF MAH MAN.))

(Enjolras sighs and rubs his temples.)

The point is not to die for the cause, mademoiselle. The point is to be WILLING to die for the cause, to be able to give up that which is most valuable to you for what you love. Some may die for their lover's safety; I would die for mine, and my lover is Patria.

As for who would run the show without us; why, a fairly elected government maintained by the people, of course. You don't think the entirety of France is patriotic school boys on barricades, do you?

I suppose that's something. Grantaire believes in nothing but me, and that seems to keep him alive. If you can call that sorry state he exists in "alive."

((That's fine; Enjolras is a tough one even for Francophiles :P And I don't blame you for any mistakes with those server problems.

And I would totally be willing to tech-support you if it meant you could keep playing.))

((Go Jackie! Tech support and save our Teddybear!))

((Get her drunk enough and Landis is liable to suggest 'becoming the filling in a french bread sandwich' which is something I hope to NEVER write again. Brain Bleach anyone? >_<; ))

Toni can't help ut interject,

"Oh sugar, aren't you lonely?"

"Being willing to die, sure. Expecting it and advising it? Assinine. If you're all dead, it's all for nothing. Who will lead and continue your ideals? You're so young too, I can't take that kind of suicidal logic. 'Die young and leave a pretty corpse' is no way to live your life. Ah, now I'm thinking of my brother again..."

She smirks and pats Enjolras on the arm before pointing out,

"Hon, you two are the only French I've ever met. For all I know, yes, France is schoolboys and barricades. ...Sounds a bit exciting actually."

((Ugh, my skin's still crawling from that first comment. I do not write free and easy characters well, I have too much prudish shame IRL. xD))

((First: I died. I am dead now. Oh my god XD))

((Second, Enjolras has no use for women. Most of the time he doesn't even seem to know they exist...))

(Enjy is caught off guard.)

I... No. I have friends, or I did, once. I have my cause. I have my work. And I have Grantaire, since he seems to have made it his life's goal to forever follow me around, even through death.

Again: the goal was never to die. I... I believe we were all surprised when it turned out like it did. I am not suicidal. Grantaire, perhaps, but not me. But I do not care if I died young as long as I died fighting, and I do not care if I do so again.

Well, from what our comrades told me about France today, it seems our fighting was not in vain after all. France is free. We succeeded. We mattered.

((Give him a moment to bask.))

((I think Grantaire just snickered in his sleep a little. And then twitched XD))

((I know, I was thinking there after, 'Watch Enjy's face melt off in all sorts of Do Not Want at that suggestion.'))

"Friends you allegedly got killed in a bloodbath, Grantaire you allegedly got killed in a bloodbath, your work that ended in a one sided bloodbath."

"Now you've spoiled my hope that you learned something. You've got a skull thicker than granite. We may be able to use it as a weapon."

"Waitaminute, we're talking French Revolution, right? I am VERY iffy on my history, but let me think about what I can recall... It may have started as something like your ideals, but it evolved into a horrible, mass-beheading indscrimnant bloodbath that left even innocent people dead, caused complete anarchy for a while, and even made my ancestors in America cringe and back away after previous support.

Congratulations Enjy, you asisted in starting a genocide that made no one happy. France as it is today didn't happen until well after your generation. And I'd love for you to see the current French president. I'm SURE you'd agree with him on everything..."

She yaaawns widely at that.

"Oi, why does every conversation we have boil down to this same stupid stalemate? Don't you have any other interests, An-zohl-ras!? You're a sweet kid, if there's not more to your life soemwhere, we MUST add to it in the immidiate future."

((It's a good thing he can't hear you through the fourth wall. Otherwise he might have asked you to explain.))

They... They could have left if they wanted to. No one was forced to fight. They were all given the option to leave when we knew we would not make it out alive, and they stayed. They stayed for our cause, they stayed for our people, they stayed for our country...

...and they stayed for me. Do not dishonor their deaths.

And Grantaire's death was the most honorable moment of his life. The ONLY honorable moment of his life. Are you going to take that away from him?

Alas, the French Revolution proper ended 11 years before I was born. We fought in the June Days Rebellion of 1832. It only lasted for 2 days, so we did not have much time for an indescriminant bloodbath. One man on our side killed an innocent, but he was quickly put to death. The lives of the innocent are no laughing matter, I assure you.

I am not and will never will be a politician. The running of the government was never my concern; if the people have chosen this man, then so be it. As long as they have the right and the choice to decide who governs them, then my death and those of my comrades were not in vain.

Yes, indeed. And I do not see what I could add to my life that could be more important than fighting for Patria (or, now, the world); if you have any suggestions, I will give them my full consideration, all for your benefit. But until then we may simply have to decide that our views on life are incompatible. Not everyone is cut out to be a revolutionary.

((I know you won't understand this, Teddy, but you would make a good Turning girl. They were schoolboys, never held a gun...))

((Enjolras should take up knitting! *is shamelessly staying on the sidelines watching the beauty unfold*))

((Grantaire, wake up, get your ass in here, and start defending your marble-faced Apollo.))

((He'd regret that. Those metaphors whould keep you from ever eating again.))

"Just because they were cornered with no other options as they would have been imprisoned or killed anyway doesn't make you poisoning them with these mindless ideal right! Did you even have any kind of plan if you had survived? Could you have done anything if they came for you again? Did you think a damn bit of this out before you bet human lives on it? Children are easily led along, as you seem to have been. I damn the pseudo-intellectual philosopher who twisted you this way."

Uh oh, uncomfortable sobriety is hitting. You can tell because she gets meaner as her alcohol level drops.

"Now you're really just pissing me off."

"And you learned nothing and kept on killing! Ha! My god! You're a monster! The French are barbarians, no European is allowed to taunt the Americans again!"

"So what you're saying is, you had no idea what the hell you were talking about, but saw fit to have people die while you butt your nose into it? Oh you should be so proud."

"Incompatible for the fact that we do not live in the same reality. You should be locked up somewhere and gagged."

"This point you've proven to me without a doubt."

((I don't understand, but I kinda want to.))

((Turning a song in the musical, sitting between Javert's Suicide and Marius' lament over all of his friends having died at the barricades, Empty Chairs at Empty Tables. It's sort of a hymn to the futility of war and the pain of those left behind. It also recycles the melody from Lovely Ladies, the song that sees Fantine sell everything she has, herself included, to support her small daughter, Cosette. Les Mis is a HAPPY MUSICAL.))

What on earth is all this noise? Can't a man sleep it off decently anywhere anymore? Some bastard filled my bed with frogs, too.
Huh, frowns. What's wrong, who upset whom now, hm? Can't I leave you two lovebirds alone without a quarrel for more than a few seconds, hm? Did you really miss me this much? I'd be careful, Missy. Never argue with him. That's how it started with Marius. One day you're debating Napoleon, the next you're standing with gunpowder aloft threatening to blow yourself up unless the Guard lets you on the barricade. 's not a healthy way to live.

I knew that I saw people around me, starving and dying in the streets, while the fat ones walked by and ignored them. I knew that I heard the crying of their hungry children, the cries that the royalists could not hear, and I knew it was not right. I knew I would rather die in even the attempt to help these people than to continue living in a world of such injustice. The people deserved a choice, and I wanted to give it to them. Nothing more. Nothing less.

(He sighs and rubs his temples again.)

Dear lord. Even Marius was not this stubborn. I need one of those pain-killers the good doctor was telling me about.

I am done arguing with you, mademoiselle. If you have any more to say, say it to Grantaire. You are obviously more on his level of discourse, and I am sure you two drunkards can come up with something to feud about.

((FTFY. But yes, Turning is the song of those left behind who don't understand why they did what they did. It's a bit historically inaccurate and doesn't tell the whole story but it's an important counter-argument.))

Why, yes it is, Wellington! Prime hair harvested fro-UH, I MEAN, NATURAL HAIR GROWING FROM MY FACE THAT IS 100% NATURAL AND NOT AT ALL FAKE.

Operation Shining Lecherous Mountaintop (Part 3)

After shoving away that insane scientist from the communication booth, I resumed command of the mission.



While the bomb threat has been neutralized, Xrays have been spotted closing in on our location. I flirted briefly with Grantaire's suggestion to equip his little frogs dressed as soldiers with guns and send them as reinforcements, but unfortunately, we do not have a frog sized Skyranger to send them to the mission site.



Luckily, wounds had not dulled Banana's senses, as she heard the footsteps of an alien trying to sneak up on us from above and gunned him down as soon as he popped his head out.

...

Wait a second! That wasn't an alien! That was my dentist, Harvey Memmings! He was Harvey Lemming's brother! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!



And then, Pavel spotted my plumber, Harvey Jemmings, and gunned him down as well! WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE DOING!



Luckily, Harvey Emmings, my doctor, managed to avoid the gunshots from my fucking team of psychopaths and ducked to safety.



Now that I think about it, I wonder what all the Harvey brothers were doing here...HEY! Harvey Emmings just shot Sofaer with an alien weapon! That assh-

Ooooh, now I get it! The Harveys were aliens in disguise! HA! Your alien trickery will not fool me, Harvey!



Having singlehandidly undone this nefarious alien infiltration attempt, I order my team to gun down the last remaining Harvey brother.



Thanks to my brilliant deductive skills, this mission was a resounding success!







Our spoils of war! Good job, me!

I am glad to see our men (and women) have made it home, and also that our rookies are gaining more variety in their classes. The world is not won with just assault.

((Of course he did <3))

((Not that you're one to talk, Mr. "See a random hot guy giving a passionate speech and decide to devote the rest of your life to him."))

((The idea of a frog-sized Skyranger is precious and adorable. Also, yay team! We're now officially better at surviving than zombie fighters and slightly worse at avoiding injuries by friendly fire! Huzzah! Albeit: WHY NO MEDICS, COMMAND CENTRE, SERIOUSLY? At this rate when we get one they're going to get insta-borked.))

(In his defense good money says he was VERY drunk at the time.)

"Next time you go to France and aliens aren't attacking, telling me the same thing isn't happening in newer venues. That is apart of human society that doesn't change, and so far, communism isn't an acceptable answer. More things you should have to learn a damn lick of politics and sociology to understand."

"Cornered, he tries to take down my credibility by calling me a drunk, while asking for drugs in the same breath! Such an inspiration you are." She spits on the ground before him. Oh lord, she's angry. There's fire in her eyes to match her hair.

((Consider Toni the human emobdiment of that song. ALL OF THE HOOKERS AND ARGUMENTS! xD))

"Your hubby is a dlluded asshole, that's what happened. He keeps insisting you die. I disagreed. And shut your mouth, I don't even want to listen to you agree. If you think that hangover is suffering, you haven't know me long enough." ((Somewhere on the wind Toni's little brother's voice echos a haunting refrain of 'She's a shreeeew... Such a shreeeew... She's such a shreeeew...')) "Hmm? Our mission was a success? Oh thank god... But.. Why can't Sofaer get through a mission without being shot in the ass? Is it magnetic now? Drawing fire?"

If it is, I motion we make him our mascot and sends him backing towards the enemy each fight. Safer that way. Also, funnier. And of course we won. I made helpful suggestions and everything. How couldn't we?
Now, calm down, will you? I didn't take habitat in a moral vacuum to get into more arguments about belief. Opinions are like asses. Doesn't matter how many you have if you shoot them enough. What's a 'hubb... never mind, that's not important. Anyway, as far as hangovers go, I've had worse. The way I see it, though, Antonia... Angry as you might be, just remember, everything's a big a deal as you make up it, and judging from the volume, this was a really huge one. Enjolras is as he is. I am as I am.
*smiles*
You are as you are. A pain in the neck sometimes, but then, so are most people. Is any of this really worth fighting over when you both agree it's too much when even one person dies, hm?

Landis settles back in her chair and looks sleepy for the first time, relieved at least that the group is home she can actually think about rest.

"Grantaire, you cannot die. I feel better when you rant nonesense. Even if I don't agree with all of it."

He does make an excellent buffer. The only time Landis and Enjolras don't border on violence is when he's interjecting.

"I don't know why he thinks so poorly of you. If someone were so devoted and charismatic toward me, I wouldn't know what to do with such a blessing. He's a spoiled brat."

I make it my goal to be vexing, Mademoiselle. Vexation is to be expected. Anyway, devoted might be pushing it. I just... don't have anything better to do, is all. And Lesgle used to pay some of the... drinks. That's all. Everyone was political back then. It was the era of ideas, that's it. Innocent time. I think it was a good a break from daily misery as any, and slightly less likely to get the brand.

Anyway, I won't die. Maybe.