#dres writes

“Two...”

“One..”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Bradford grinned slightly to himself as the sound of party poppers en masse were unleashed in the bar, followed by boisterous laughter and booming cajoling that seemed to permeate every inch of the ship. Even as he drifted further away, towards the Quarters.

It had been a heavy year for all of them, but with ADVENT doubling down on the celebrations themselves -- it provided XCOM a little leeway to relax.

It didn’t take him long to stop before the door and tucking the champagne bottle under his arm and the two wine glasses held perilously with one hand, he knocked on the door with his knuckle. “ -- Dottie?”

There was some slight shuffling with an indeterminable ‘come in.’ thrown into the mix, which Bradford took his cue to enter. It was still.. startling, even now, to see not the face of the woman he’d known for thirty odd years -- but the expert craftsmanship of the Avatar’s visage. No wonder she hadn’t joined the party.

“I hope you’re not planning on drinking that.” she stated immediately, eyeballing the bottle. Bradford flourished it and set it down on the table.

“Of course not, I brought this bottle just so I can watch you drink the entire thing whilst I sit in passive-aggressive craving to down the bottle myself.”

“I hope your new year resolution wasn’t to be more open with your kinks, John.”

“Dorothy Anne Kingsley.”

Stifling a tired chuckle, Kingsley leaned back against the couch, barely paying attention when Bradford joined her. He set the glasses on the table as well, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into a hug -- trying his best withhold a pitiful smile when he felt her freeze.

“Happy new year, Dottie.” he said, deciding not to address the elephant in the room. She appreciated that, and slackened against him.

“Who did this?” he quietly asked with a veiled fury that surprised even Lily. “Where is he?”

Klaus continued unwavering, jabbing a finger in Clacher’s direction. “And I better not hear talk of that again, else you’re doing a disservice to the Skirmishers. This has always been more than just ‘humans versus aliens.’ It’s self-respecting, decent beings against the bottom-feeding scum of the galaxy. We ain’t the only ones that’s been royally fucked by the Elders, so maybe learn a little humility.”

“Jeez. Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” Kelly tried to make light of the situation, but was only rewarded a burning glare for her troubles. She huffed out a sigh, but didn’t contribute any further stirring the pot. She understood, really. Everyone was tense at the tentative quiet from the onset of the operation – and the impending doom of the Hunter’s assault. Any moment now, he would strike, and could potentially all be their final battle.

Ch55.. is. gonna be very tense.

Klaus, popping off. He really doesn’t keep cool under pressure and everyone’s starting to crack under the fact the Hunter hasn’t assaulted them yet.

Lily left the restroom confident that she could survive the rest of the night -- but his presence standing atop the central stairway, conversing softly with the much shorter Speaker set a fear in the back of her throat like no other. A primal instinct that urged her to flee, to abandon social convention and dive for the nearest window.

He’d forgone the armour that the broadcasts of his visage so often shown, dressing down to something of cloth and more formal and to the occasion. Hair -- stark white -- was pulled up into a falling braid, with several strands spilling over broad shoulders. By his flanks two Priests docilely remained, hands clasped behind their backs and a third by the Warlock’s side, nursing a datapad close to her bosom.

Logically, she knew the Chosen likely didn’t know she existed. She was just another mortal face in the sea of others that crooned their adoration of him. But she’d heard stories about psionics. Heard stories from rumourmongering Resistance Youth about the Warlock’s vast and incomprehensible power -- and how he used it. Some likened it to be reading minds -- it was always so eerie how the Priests knew exactly what made people tick.

More importantly than the Warlock’s grand appearance was her wondering where the fuck Yi had gotten.

Forcing herself to tear her fear-ridden gaze away from the sight -- and missing the one of the three Priests turn their head towards her -- she surveyed the crowd to try and find her friend. The anxiety of scanning each unfamiliar facial features was like she was drowning and Lily grimaced as another wave of nausea threatened to rock her.

As she debated dipping back into the restroom and simply spending the rest of the night in there, she was elated to find Yi chatting animatedly to an older, portly gentleman that she vaguely recognized from articles. He was some professor of art -- typical. Yi was likely hustling her paintings, though Lily doubted she’d find much traction.

After all, her portfolio consisted of portraits of her. Lily was certain her appearance was going to detract from her pitch, but Yi seemed confident that Lily was the ‘perfect muse’ -- whatever that had meant at the time. Bowing her head to avoid being seen and taken aside for conversation, she darted and weaved through the crowd, making a bee-line towards her.

As her hand reached out for her arm, her name on the tip of her tongue, her arms were both accosted and Lily found her sides quickly flanked by two giggly Priests. Whatever lump in her throat dropped to her stomach like bedrock as she was yanked non-too-subtly back.

“Why, I do believe this is the guest of honour, Gabriel. Lily Smith.” the more soft-spoken one cooed, her other hand reaching to squeeze Lily’s upper arm.

“Do you think she plans to outshine our beloved divine? The Speaker has not stopped singing her praises to him, Uriel.” the Priest pursed her lips, letting her hand raise to pinch her cheeks. “ -- And what a bare slip of a thing! I wonder what has their interests so caught?”

“Well, we simply HAVE to find out ourselves. We can hardly present some commoner to our pontiff. Mmhm.. what do our brethren call it? Screening?” Uriel shook her head. “No, no, perhaps just a chat, yes? A few questions and some guidance. Wouldn’t want you stumbling and saying the wrong thing. Do you even have proper etiquette to be in a place like this?”

Lily had little idea that Priests could be so.. catty. But whatever words she tried to say were swiftly silenced by their overpowering, cohesive presence.

“We only have your best interests in mind, of course.” Gabriel sung. “And, our Chosen’s, but, we are your Priests. You should feel honoured.”

“I,” Lily coughed. “Need to go --”

“Leaving? Without even meeting His Holiness? How.. unladylike.”

“Uncouth.” the older of the two agreed. “I dare say bordering on defiance. I will turn the other cheek and forgive your blatant insult to him if..”

“You agree to come willingly with us.” they finished in unison.

Lily was under no impression that she actually had a choice in the matter. But, if she complied as best as she can, she might get out unscathed -- or earn a painless death, whichever came first.

Deflating in their grip, she murmured; “ -- Alright.”

hey

FF.NET

She lifted herself slightly upon the Queen’s back to glance over her shoulder, being careful not to jostle the clinging runt beside her. A perceptible hue of pinks and purple tainted the air with how rich the psionic energy amassed around them. To her God-gifted senses, she heard the hum, the low, atmospheric buzz like the crackle of lightning before it struck. The wires and tubes stuck into the Earth leached into what life was left around it and expelling it’s deadly fallout. Distant chattering of mandibles had long since migrated since the Queen stomped upon their grounds.

“Why, dear!” It was only through sheer determination that she didn’t let her wince slip through her facade at the Speaker’s scandalized tone. “ -- Would you deny our beloved Elders the right to speak with their devoted and faithful? Should I return back to our master craftsman Elder Daedalus and tell Him that the apple of His eye does not even wish to meet Him?”

Every word was like honeyed poison injected straight into her and the alarming wave of nausea crashed into the pit of her stomach. Her face paled a little, and Lily momentarily lost her voice as the reality of the situation was starting to bear down on her.

Ishmael, either unaware or -- perhaps, absolutely aware -- continued, tutting accordingly. “Disappointment would not even begin to explain how He must feel. But, I understand, Miss Smith. Your modesty is not for fear of our wondrous leaders, is it?”

Lily swallowed thickly.

“O-Of course not.” She did not know how she managed to speak, but her instincts to survive drove her to navigate this expert trap carefully. “It’s just so, overwhelming -- you understand, of course. I’ve not even graduated and the prospect of meeting the God of craft and creation Himself is -- well, nerve-wracking, to say the least.”

She quickly added before Ishmael could spin further from that. “ -- If you don’t mind, Mr. Speaker, I need to use the restroom.”

“Of course, of course.” he relinquished his hold on her. Lily did not spare him a second glance, even though she knew his gaze followed her.

Banging open the stall door, she let it swing half-shut by it’s hinges as she collapsed to her knees, lurched over the toilet bowl. The nausea churned irritated in her stomach and the stormy wave hitting her body prompted her to dry heave.

Lily didn’t know how long she really spent hunched over it, but as the sickly feeling remained but her senses begrudgingly admitting she wasn’t going to vomit, she pulled away and stumbled towards the sink and mirror.

Looking at herself in the reflection; a grim visage gloomily stared back. The sweat she’d worked up from her nerves and her general fussing habits had messed her makeup and frizzed her hair -- to put it short, she looked a mess.

She pushed a hand through her fringe, letting it fall where it may. An Elder planned to meet her. An Elder had their eye on her. Whilst that information was fear-gripping in of itself, Ishmael inadvertently provided her with information. She was going to have to be a lot more careful attending the youth’s Resistance meetings.

“Just.. a few more hours.” she told herself. “You can do this. The night’s young, nothing seems to be happening that much. You lived through the conversation with the Speaker. What else can this night throw at me? The Chosen?”

Fixing her hair and generally touching up everything else, Lily had no idea how correct she was until she stepped out of the restroom and re-attended the gathering.