Watching videos of people feeding their pet snakes and how certain ones have a strong tendency to miss their strikes, makes me curious if some Vipers could suffer from the same thing.
guys as of now i can confirm the term "snitties" exists *outside of the sanders fandom now
guys i'm really really scared now
i had to write over the thumbnail just a teeny bit cuz the thing that indicates how long the vid is covered the word slightly. i can provide the original, un-written over thumbnail if necessary.
*: i can confirm personally bc i have watched so many of this guy's videos b4 that he would not be the kind of guy to be into sanders sides let alone have any knowledge of the hell the fanders have created
Chosen Stories From the War #32: Forgetting Old Weapons
The wind whipped around the dirt road, stirring up sand and dust as the wheels of the dirtbike cut across the trails. Kon-Mai held up her hands to cover her face as her brother passed by them once again. Her white hair whipped around her in the violent wind: she had released it from it’s braids and it was hanging in ringlets today.
Dhar-Mon growled as he picked the sand grains off his tongue. “I do not understand the appeal of this.”
“I assume he likes the thrill.” Verge said, from his position on Kon-Mai’s left hand side. He was standing there with his hands clasped behind his back, at attention like always, but he seemed to be staring longingly at Gur-Rai as he made another lap on the road that ran around the oasis. “The sound of the tires on the road, the wind in his hair-”
“He is bald.” Kon-Mai chuckled. “Nazira is not though, and she evidently enjoys that sentiment.”
As Gur-Rai’s bike came to a slow stop in front of them, the tall woman stepped off and shook out her black hair, giggling the entire time. “That was lovely! I haven’t had this much fun in years!”
“I can always be counted on for a good time~” Gur-Rai said with a smirk, a bit of a purr in his voice. “Well? Anyone else up next? Molly, how about you?”
“I’ll ride with you when you wear your helmet.” She sighed, her arms crossed. “You know if you take a spill and smash your skull open, I don’t want to be the one scooping your brains back into your blue head.”
“That’s what the hood is for.” He chuckled, tapping the barely armored cloth. “But fair enough. Verge, how about you?”
Verge blinked. “What about…?”
“Why don’t you hop on.” Gur-Rai patted the seat behind him, winking as he did. “I would dare to say you’ve never been on a bike like this.”
“That is not true…” Verge straightened up and cleared his throat. “I have been on bikes.”
“Oh?” Gur-Rai leaned forward on the handlebars. “Then hop on. I mean. If you want~”
“Do I have a choice?” Verge raised a brow.
“If you prefer, I can lift you up on my back and carry you around the track~”
“I doubt you could lift me, but I like the idea.” Verge smirked.
“You wound me. I can lift my sister and she’s heavy as a truck!”
Kon-Mai hissed.
“Well then, let’s see.” Verge smirked, certain Gur-Rai would not go through with this threat. That smile disappeared as Gur-Rai jumped off the bike and scooped him up bridal style. Verge let out a yelp, and Nazira cackled.
“Oh come on now, you liked it when Zafar did it~” She winked, and Verge’s cheeks seemed to almost glow purple.
“Do not tease him.” Kon-Mai said with a barely visible smirk. “The poor thing has only just discovered what emotions are.”
“Now now, I think we’re all in a similar boat.” Nazira reached up to lean on Kon-Mai’s shoulder. Even with her own great height, she only came up to just about the Chosen woman’s neck.
Malinalli looked up at Dhar-Mon, who was staring after Gur-Rai as he ran off with Verge in his arms, and smiled. “You could probably carry me if you wanted.”
Dhar-Mon blushed bright purple. “...I suppose.”
“Mm.” She clasped her hands in front of her, turning around as footsteps approached them. “Oh, hello Sir.”
“There is no need for that.” Zafar insisted, his wide mouth growing into a sharp grin. His black hair was pulled back into a ponytail that sat tall at the crown of his head, and his red robes fluttered in the light desert breeze. “Nazira, the Commander wishes to speak to us again.”
“Is she finally ready to fork over some soldiers?” Nazira sighed. “I hope she lets you all stay, I’ve been having so much fun with all my Chosen~”
Kon-Mai sighed. “We are needed for the greater war effort.”
“Oh fine, I understand, forget all about little old me.” Nazira said it jovially, but there was an edge to her voice.
“I don’t know what she’s decided.” Zafar admitted. “And ultimately we are at her mercy.”
“If she wants me to pick up a gun again…” Nazira grumbled as she let go of Kon-Mai. “Well, give Gur-Rai a kiss from me!”
“I will meet you there shortly.” Zafar called after her. Turning back to the Chosen, he raised a brow. “I wanted to make a request of all of you…” He said. “It is about my own...abilities.”
“Why do you sound hesitant?” Dhar-Mon asked.
“Because those memories are never pleasant to revisit. That time of my life feels completely detached from who I am now.” Zafar admitted. “I don’t know if I’d even be able to hold a pistol right anymore, and that leaves me at the mercy of XCOM, whatever their whims may be.”
“Just use your psionics.” Malinalli said.
Zafar chuckled. “I wish I could. But the gift does not embrace me like it does you...humans.”
“What of a sword?” Kon-Mai asked. “Have you ever utilized a sword or close range weapon?”
Zafar raised a brow. “I will admit we haven’t.”
Kon-Mai’s face seemed to light up. “Maybe I could teach you. The sword is quite different from the gun.”
“I have long wanted to explore more traditional means of human warfare.” He chuckled. “And who better than the mistress of blades to teach us?”
Kon-Mai grinned, bearing sharp teeth. “With me you will not just learn to kill. You will learn to dance.”
“I shall look forward to our battle, Shrinemaiden.” He waved as he disappeared into the sand.
.
.
Senuna plopped down on the pillow, her white cape fluttering behind her as she did. Jane adjusted her rifle in her arms, leaning it against her hip. She didn’t intend to use it today, and Bradford didn’t even have his drawn, but he did look at Zafar with the slightest bit of distrust. Just like him to assume everything would go wrong.
“I have good news.” Senuna said. “The Reapers have graciously stepped up.”
Zafar blinked in confusion. “Stepped up to what?”
“They’ll be donating their own forces to cover Dakhla.” She said. “Their home has been under siege by ADVENT and they need-”
“They hate us!” Nazira stood up from her position at her brother’s side, her face pale. “They eat alien meat, don’t they?!”
“Yes, but.” Senuna held up her hand. “Since allying with the Skirmishers, there has been a considerable drop in that. They mostly eat Chryssalids and Vip-oh.” Senuna stopped herself too late.
Nazira looked at her with a mix of horror and fury. “Brother. We can’t.” She hissed. “They will kill us in our sleep.”
Zafar sighed. “I did not expect you to involve the other factions.” He said. “We have already had problems with the Templars to the north. If it was the Skirmishers, maybe. But the Reapers are known to harbor ill feelings towards us.” He shrugged. “Not that I blame them, per se. But we want safety here, and I think this will provide more unrest.”
Bradford stepped forward. “Look, you need soldiers. The Reapers need a new home. Avoiding each other isn’t going to make this sentiment go away so you might as well face this head on.”
“I would agree.” Zafar nodded. “But I also don’t want riots breaking out in my village.”
“It won’t just be Reapers.” Jane spoke finally. “About two dozen XCOM recruits will be staying behind, as well as a few Skirmishers. The exact number I don’t know.”
“I don’t want to be stabbed in the back and skinned as a delicacy.” Nazira hissed. “And who’s to say they won’t?!”
“You are allies.” Senuna assured her. “Volk is stubborn, but not stupid. He won’t attack you on purpose.”
“Maybe he won’t. But what of his soldiers?” Nazira crossed her arms.
“His soldiers are all quite obedient.” Jane said. “Except Elena, but she almost holds a command position herself. And she’s married to a Skirmisher. She’d be a good fit here.”
That, Zafar seemed to ponder. Nazira still grimaced at the idea, but she held silent.
“What else?” He asked. “There’s something more you’re thinking of, Commander. I know it.”
“We would like to train some of the citizens.” She said. “As helpful as our own troops will be, it will be much easier to defend Dakhla if the people here can use a gun.”
Nazira turned on her heel and stormed out, and Zafar sighed. “I was afraid you would ask this.”
“Why?” Senuna crossed her arms. “Most of the people here are former ADVENT.”
“Most of the people here are traumatized by their service.” Zafar objected. “My own hands struggle to hold weaponry. Getting them to hold a weapon would be nigh impossible.”
“That can’t be true for all of them.” Jane said. “We’re in the middle of a war. They have to fight.”
“Do they?” He asked, glaring at her. “Or do you simply expect them to?”
Jane fell silent, where Senuna piped up. “Yes. We do.”
.
.
Imdugud was tired of not receiving the recognition he deserved for such a taxing job.
It was his job to wrangle in the Sectoids, who had grown unruly with the implementation of human DNA. It was his job to oversee the cloning facilities and to do annual checks on the gene therapy clinics. It was his job to make lists on lists and then make lists of those lists and of course he did it all. Why wouldn’t he? He loved his job.
But oh did he wish it had more reward. As it was this was no different from his life on Thaumas.
“That’s not true.” Reue said behind him. She could hear his thoughts and she had no problem snooping. “People do appreciate you here. People actually answer to you. Remember on Thaumas? You took all the blame, it’s how you fell in with us to begin with.”
He hated it when she was right. But she was. “Whatever you need, Reue, it’ll have to wait...” He said, not looking up from the desk he levitated in front of. Before him were spread several thin sheets of paper, and he ran his hand over one of the crisp corners. Stars above, he loved this planet, it’s trees and it’s paper. “Do you remember when Bhandasura took us out to the wastes of Korallion? Where the crystal trees grew so high they punctured the atmosphere?”
“Yes.” Reue said as she came closer.
“I hated those trees.” He growled. “Unmoving, unending, barely alive.” He picked up a sheet of paper: it was another list of all the designation numbers of the Sectoids he was reviewing for his mission. Half of them were crossed out. “Can you feel this? It’s soft and real.”
“It’s dead.” Reue deadpanned. “That’s just a flap of dead flesh from a tree.”
“Yes. But it was once alive.” He chuckled and laid it back on the table. “Now, the names written on it, you could make the argument that they’re already dead too.”
“But they come from us.” She protested. “I wish you would take care of them-”
“So did the Chosen. And look at them.” He scoffed. “That went so well. I swear upon a black hole, if our doctors have to keep diverting resources to Abyzou and her abhorrent obsessions, we’ll lose all we’ve gained over the millennia.”
“Don’t talk about lau Mordenna like that.” Reue hissed.
“Well, for a moment I forgot how pathetic you were.” Imdugud gathered up the papers in his hands. “This little crush was cute at first, but it’s gotten old, Reue.”
“So have you.” Reue spat. “When will your force be assembled? Lau Madron wants to know where his daughter is.”
“I’m still waiting on Xezbeth and Tiyanak, they said they’ll have something ready for me tonight.” He brushed past her. “...Do you miss home, Reue?”
Reue didn’t answer at first.
“I hope not. I sure don't.” Imdugud chuckled. “The universe would be better off without the whole lot, anyway.”
.
.
While the soldiers had, at first, found Dakhla to be new and exciting and exotic, they had quickly grown bored when they discovered that there were less “Viper Hostess Bars” and more “small desert taverns.” They had found one that was, quite literally, a hole in the wall, it’s sandstone walls keeping the cool air inside to shield them from the unrelenting sun. The ground was covered in sand, and everything had a strange, thin layer of dust coating it like a second skin.
Mithridates didn’t look up from his laptop until Tiwaz poked his ribcage, and then he jumped, looking wide-eyed at the older man. “Y-Yeah?”
“Want anything to drink?” Tiwaz asked with a smile. He had discarded his armor in favor of a tank top and shorts that came up far above his thighs. His blonde hair was getting long, now falling in a dirty mop around his eyes and down his neck.
“...No.” Mithridates shook his head. “I don’t drink.”
“Come on, Maruf.” Tisiphone practically barked at him, her voice echoing through the cave-like room. “Loosen up a bit.”
“It’s against my religion.” He muttered.
“I didn’t know you were religious.” Princess chimed in, a smile on her face. “I’m a Presbyterian! What do you practice?”
“The belief that everyone can mind their own fucking business.” Mithridates glared at her. “I don’t drink, that’s that.”
“Okay, fine, don’t get so anal about it.” Tisiphone stood. “I’ll come with you. I’m gonna grab a rum and coke.”
Tiwaz nodded. “Maruf, you sure you don’t want anything? Maybe a soda?”
Mithridates pondered that for just a moment. “...Coke.” He finally choked out.
“Can do!” Tiwaz sauntered his way over to the bar, Tisiphone following behind him to the bar. The stone was inscribed with ancient hieroglyphs written all the way back in the days of Egypt, and at first the soldiers had all been enamored with them, until the barkeep told them it was just a recipe for beer.
The woman there was...not what they were used to calling a woman, and Tisiphone paused for a moment, watching the Viper wiping down a glass with a rag and putting it under the sandstone counter. Despite the scales, she seemed to have wrinkles around her red eyes. It sent a shiver up Tisiphone’s spine: this alien looked almost human.
“You ok?” Tiwaz took her hand.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “...It’s just hard sometimes.”
“I get you. I think this one is cool though.” He smiled.
“How do you know?” Tisiphone raised a brow.
“I like to assume the best in people.”
“That’s a good way to get killed.”
“It worked when I met you.”
“Yeah, and I tried to kill you.” Tisiphone chuckled, relaxing enough to lean on the bar as the Viper turned towards them. “Rum and coke?”
“Is Pepsi okay?” The Viper hissed.
Tisiphone sighed. “Good to see some things never change.”
.
.
Kon-Mai ran her hand along the outside of the temple, barely grazing the centuries old graffiti. Sarapammon, an old god (or perhaps king?) stared down at her, flanked by a baboon and a ram. His full locks of hair, strong back and piercing gaze reminded her of Dhar-Mon. Once, she had seen him make an address to the people of Earth, in the middle of the city center in Ehime. He had announced her presence like he was proclaiming the second coming. In that moment, she had felt special. That moment ended far too soon.
She looked into the darkness of the tiny temple, it’s cool air blowing over her slightly sunburnt face, and she took a single step inside before the sound of movement caught her off guard.
“Who’s there?” She heard Nazira call from the darkness.
“Only me.” It was hard to sound calming with her scraggly voice, but she tried anyway. “I thought you were meeting the Commander.”
“I was.” Nazira sounded like she wanted to say more, but nothing else followed.
“...May I step inside?” Kon-Mai asked. “The sun is-”
“Yes, sure.” More rustling, like the woman was making room for her, and Kon-Mai stepped into the shadows. Like always, they swallowed her, surrounding her like old friends.
Nazira sat cross legged before the tiny alter, which bore the visage of three gods, two men and one woman. Kon-Mai felt her heart drop for a moment before she shook off that fearful feeling. There was no way.
She knelt beside her, sitting back on her heels and closing her eyes for a moment, letting the cool air not just overtake her, but flow through her. For a moment she could see Dakhla as it once was, bustling with ancient humans who spoke a language so like her own and yet not at all. Some of them saw her. Some of them looked like her.
She opened her eyes and looked at Nazira, who was staring up at the wall, inscribed with ancient hieroglyphs. “Did something happen?”
“The Commander doesn’t listen.” Nazira spat. “I don’t want to fight her wars. I just want to live.” She reached up and pressed her long fingers into her brow ridge. “I never want to pick up another gun.”
Kon-Mai raised a brow. “Never?”
“I am done with that life.” She added. “I am no longer that person, quite literally.” She gestured to herself. “But she can’t see that, can she? It’s just like with the Elders. I’m just a tool for them to use.”
Kon-Mai didn’t know quite what to say. “...I’m sorry.” She finally said. “I did not realize this war had such a lasting impact on you.”
“It affects all of us differently.” Nazira mumbled. “Most people here avoid guns because they feel as though they can’t trust themselves with them. I know I can’t trust myself not to break and forget all I am now.” She shifted, sitting on her hip. “If I pick up another pistol, I worry I’ll be no different from before.”
“That is a silly fear.” Kon-Mai said. “You are you. That should never change.”
“Don’t.” Nazira glared at her, green eyes glowing in the dark. “Do not patronize me.”
Kon-Mai shrunk back a hair.
“I suffered endless torment at the hands of the Elders.” She held out her palms. “I was never meant to be like this. I was stolen from a home I will never know, mutated to serve their purpose, given a gun and told to kill like a mindless slave. You of all people should understand-”
“I’m sorry.” Kon-Mai interjected quickly. “I was not thinking of what I said. It’s not a silly fear.” She took a slow breath. “I only meant, the Elders do not decide who you are. You have already made that decision. I believe you are strong enough to uphold it.”
“I hope so.” Nazira stood. “But I’m not willing to take that risk.”
Suddenly, Kon-Mai’s eyes lit up. “Is it only guns?”
Nazira looked confused. “Only guns?”
“Your brother asked earlier if I could train him in swordsmanship.” Kon-Mai smiled excitedly. “Perhaps I could do the same for you.”
.
.
“Then it is settled.” Zafar finally relented, but there was a smile on his face to indicate that this interaction wasn't entirely disturbing to him. “Those who wish to train with XCOM will be given the opportunity I doubt you’ll have many takers, but what can I say?” He chuckled.
“And the Reapers will be given a temporary outpost here.” Senuna added. “Until they can find a better place to set up shop.”
“I think that will be fair enough.” Zafar nodded and stood, reaching out to shake Senuna’s hand. “What will happen now?”
“Now I must escort our troops to you.” She giggled. “It shouldn’t take all that long, but we will be gone for a few days. The Templars are making their way over here and will likely arrive before us, so try to be on alert.”
“For someone with such power yourself, you seem to be very wary of the Templars.”
“That’s exactly why I am wary.” She winked. “I know what I can do, and I don’t trust myself one bit~”
Zafar blinked, looking at Bradford worriedly.
“Don’t worry about it.” He chuckled. “She’s bad at jokes.”
“Oh that’s wise, Dadford~” Senuna glared back at him.
“That’s a vintage meme.” Jane chuckled. “If we’re all done here, I’m going to check in with the other soldiers.”
“I heard some of them were checking out that little tavern by the entrance.” Bradford tapped his chin. “Was it um…”
Bradford blinked slowly, and Jane looked away to hide her smile as she rushed out. “Um, so yeah, see ya on the ship Bradford.”
“Jane-” Bradford reached to stop her, but Senuna waved her hand.
“Let her have fun. She’s young.” She giggled. “And I trust her to be safe.”
“She’s an intriguing young lady.” Zafar raised a brow as he watched her speed walk down the road. “...Hm.”
“Hm?” Senuna chuckled. “I’m afraid you’re not her type, Zafar.”
“And she’s not mine, so don’t worry.” He crossed his arms. “She’s simply familiar, that is all.”
“Familiar?” Bradford looked interested. “How so?”
“Her face.” Zafar seemed to brush him off. “I’m sure I am imagining it, but she resembles someone my sister and I met long ago.”
.
.
Jane pushed aside the colorful curtain, and the smell of brandy hit her in the face. She took a strong whiff, almost expecting to see Bryni somewhere nearby, but alas the red haired pilot was nowhere to be found. Damn.
She did see a few familiar faces though. Princess and Mithridates were in a booth by themselves, and made sure there was no way they’d be mistaken for a couple by throwing pebbles at each other. Tisiphone and Tiwaz were by the stone bar, beside an older looking snake woman. Her scales were a pale sea foam green, and her eyes were crimson. At Jane’s entrance, she looked up briefly and scanned the human with a flick of her eyes, then her tongue.
Jane straightened her back and marched over to the bar. “Hello.”
“Hi Quiet.” Tisiphone grumbled. “Don’t mind my attitude, I’m just trying to get drunk.”
“What if you need to be alert?” Jane asked. “If there’s an ambush?”
“I can shoot while I’m drunk.” She snapped. “Better than the boomer here.”
“Hey.” Tiwaz chuckled, unfazed by her comment. “You always seem grateful for my grenades in the field.”
“In the field, yeah. Everywhere else, your explosive personality is annoying.”
“Oh fuck you!” Said someone who was not Tiwaz. Princess came stomping over. “He won’t let me play solitaire on his computer!”
“You’ll ruin my high score, you fucking bitch!” Mithridates snapped, holding his computer against his chest.
“Children.” Tisiphone rested her head in her hand. “Please shut the fuck up.”
Jane looked up at the barkeep, who was obviously watching but trying not to make it look like she was. She gave her a nervous smile, and the Viper flicked her tongue at her.
“What’s your name?” Jane asked.
“You cannot pronounce what my sisters call me.” The Viper said in a voice that was scratched and worn. “But the humans here call me Althaea.”
“The Healer.” Jane nodded. “Fitting.”
“I heal minds with my brew.” She said, putting a glass in front of Jane. “And bodies in...other ways.”
“What kind of bodies?”
“Any that catch my interest.” Althaea looked her up and down. “And you certainly do. You’ve walked along the edge of a blade.”
Jane pondered this a moment. “...I suppose I have.” She took the glass. It smelled of Absinthe. “So what made you leave ADVENT?”
“Same as all the rest. My chip fell out one day.” Althaea grabbed a rag from under the bar, although it was covered in sand already so it did little to clean the stone bar. “I managed to fake it for a while. It wasn’t like I was an officer so I could just listen to the vocal commands. But it just ain’t right. We vipers aren’t meant to be caged.” She leaned forward. “I know the names of every planet the Elders conquered.”
“Really?” Jane raised a brow. “And you want to tell me yours?”
“It was called Vyraj.” She said sadly. “I don’t even know if it’s still inhabited. Not like it matters. I will never see it again.”
“Never say never.” Jane reached forward. “When we win, I might take you there.”
“When we win.” Althaea looked up at her, red eyes meeting hazel. “You are an interesting human.”
“I get that a lot.” Jane took a long drink of Absinthe. It burned going down her throat. “When do you close?”
“Right now if your friends can behave themselves for an hour.” She chuckled, already putting up the “OUT TO LUNCH” sign.
.
.
Imdugud tried to be as quiet as possible as he approached the two, but they seemed to hear him anyway and whirled around, their almost black eyes meeting his pale purple ones.
He let out the breath he was holding. “I need your reports.” He said. “I have been waiting days and you haven’t responded to me. Have you put more resources into creating the priests like I asked?”
“At first we did.” Tiyanak clasped their hands in front of them. “But then-”
“We had an idea.” Xezbeth interrupted their partner. “A wonderful idea.”
“I do not pay you to have ideas.” Imdugud snarled.
“You do not pay us at all, Imdugud. We are equals in rank.”
“Perhaps here. But on Thaumas-”
If Tiyanak had a mouth, they would have been smiling. “But we are not on Thaumas.” They said. “And I believe that’s quite lucky for you.”
“I can have you executed for this.” Imdugud sighed, knowing he was defeated. “Xezbeth, for the stars sake, you look like you are about to supernova.”
“I know you will like what we have made.” They insisted. “Follow us, Imdugud, and see.”
“Will it help in capturing the Assassin?”
“Yes.” Xezbeth insisted. “That is why we did this. This will give us the edge against her.”
Imdugud pondered this for a moment, and the two stared at him, Xezbeth twitching excitedly, Tiyanak’s eyes burrowing into his soul.
“Fine then.” Imdugud relented. “Show me this great project of yours.”
.
.
.
.
.
(Technically it’s still Monday! If I don’t sleep!
Like I said in my announcement, future chapters may be getting delayed as my county is currently burning to the ground. I hope to have the next chapter out by Sunday, but thank you all so, so much for being patient with me!)
Ah Faruk my refined Thin Man, future name Asherah. The right is a possible future look if she goes under the knife one last time to look less male and have repressed Viper traits show through some more. Also less frowning/annoyed looks!
I think when I initially created her I may have been watching some DC cartoons and saw Ra’s al Ghul and the face just stuck for her ever since then. Just gave her that perfect elder of her den and wise ambassador look.
Idea: Vipers that are close sleep in coiled “snake piles” like how cats snuggle together and sometimes flop on each other. Just sisters/mothers/friends bonding and staying warm.
