• Published 25th Jan 2018
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XCOM: Ranger - Wanderer D



Sunset Shimmer escapes Equestria... with unforeseen consequences.

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Chapter 180: Food

Ranger

Chapter 180: Food

By Wanderer D

The ADVENT Limousine followed a long line of similar vehicles, all with the same final destination. Inside, Sunset glanced out the window. Bradford refused to look at her, and Elena had only shaken her head and muttered, "Ah, to be young again."

Sunset had to admit, the Miranda Special did make her look sexy. How had she put it? Slutty but formal? Something along those lines, and she had been surprised to see that her dress wasn't the most daring—or revealing—of the lot.

Other young women wore dresses that she could definitely remove the formal part of her assessment from. Sweetie Belle had been right. Sunset took a deep breath, promising herself to acknowledge this fact to the former ADVENT public figure, and looked at the lock of black hair that had fallen across her vision.

It was really odd to have black hair. It made her feel different, somehow, more reserved, and even though the others knew exactly who she was, she was also treated slightly differently. Luna had said that people treated others differently on any number of factors, from how they smiled, to their hair color.

She hadn't believed it. Until now.

She resisted the urge to touch the skin just above her breasts. Hiding her gem felt… dirty, as if she was embarrassed by it, but necessity demanded it. At least she had been able to reabsorb it, as the book had promised.

"We're here," Elena said in her regular droll.

"Time to face the crowds," Sunset said. "Better get that smile going, dad."

Bradford growled, then stepped out when the door was opened for him. Elena followed out, and immediately after, Sunset did.

The mansion was surprisingly, not built in the style of ADVENT's fascist-like sensibilities, but rather seemed a shout-out to olden times. It was a massive building made of stone blocks, with some inlays of new tech and design in them, never overwhelming it, however.

The foyer's thick oak doors were open, revealing several columns on either sides of it, all illuminated by bright spotlights. Music could be faintly heard in the distance, past the din of hundreds of conversations taking place around them.

They were surrounded by several other VIPs and their bodyguards (all ADVENT assigned) and Sunset relished the attention of all men and women who came to exchange greetings with them, flirting with the reporter's cameras and—daringly—sending a kiss to the viewers.

One of ADVENT's reporters, Susan Cerendis, who Sunset was familiar with—due to the constant attacks on XCOM said reporter did on the news—approached them. Sunset restrained herself. This woman had a habit of making things worse every time by twisting even things on audio and video to reflect her twisted logic of the events, making up excuses for ADVENT and justifying the most deplorable acts to her viewers as the actions of caring leaders.

She was cute in person, but Sunset loathed her.

"And here we have Mr. Brian Bloom, long supporter of the Elders and ADVENT from their initial arrival to the transformation of the entire West Coast of the former regime into our new, glorious present. He is accompanied by Elora Bloom and their daughter, Eli Bloom. Mr. Bloom, may we have a moment of your time?"

Bradford didn't look pleased, but stopped as the woman all but stood in his way. With brutal efficiency, the ADVENT Patrol assigned to the entrance, however, pushed the reporters out of the way, barking out an order in their language.

Sunset smirked. The officer had called Susan a pretentious bitch. So much for the appreciation of her overlords. However, her eyes couldn't help but roam up and down Susan's circulatory system. Whatever else the woman was, she kept good care of her health. Her heartbeat was strong and steady, her blood flowed uninterrupted.

Sunset licked her lips.

Susan glared at the ADVENT Captain, but understood the message, waving the cameraman away. She was about to follow him when Sunset grabbed her arm.

Sunset leaned in, smiling seductively at the woman, her grin widening when the reporter's eyes studied her body with obvious interest. "Meet me inside when they let you in," Sunset whispered quickly, before turning to run after her "father".

This would be an interesting night.

Unseen, a small drone hovered right behind one of the spotlights lighting the way into the mansion, its lenses focusing on the trio as they navigated through the masses and made it into the building.

Deep bellow, in a small room full of towels and cleaning rags, Jane nodded. She quickly made her way out, straightening her white uniform as she stepped back into the kitchen. She walked among the rows of working cooks, ignoring the guards next to the stairs.

ADVENT officers knew as much about cooking as she herself knew about the biology of invertebrates. She knew they somehow functioned, but that was as far as the mechanics interested her, and they were the same way about cooking.

Mox had explained to her once that ADVENT didn't believe in food as humans understood it, and it took some time for any Skirmisher to really start to even understand what they were tasting and whether it tasted good or bad.

ADVENT apparently fed them some paste of some sort, and that left little for them to aim for in culinary pursuits.

Reaching her work station, she sided up to Laetitia, who was chopping onions like a pro. "Team is in."

Laetitia nodded, keeping her eyes on the food. "Stir this into the pan, keep the heat low," she instructed, her french accent making the simple task seem somehow more dignified. "A sprinkle of salt, then let it simmer as you stir. No stopping."

"Right right, I'll follow your orders, oh, chef," Jane whispered back, glad that one of them knew how to cook like a real chef. Although Wittbecker had a regular catering company, they hired new chefs as often as possible for large events like these, and it had been all thanks to Laetitia's Chou Farci that they had been allowed in at all.

Jane had no idea what it even meant.

"Even if ADVENT does not recognize food, we still must appear professional, oui?" Laetitia asked, her eyes straying to meet Jane's for a moment. "We do not know when things might go to Tartaruous, comprenez vous?"

"Tartarus? What's that? French hell?"

Laetitia shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Something I learned recently, come, let's concentrate on this, oui?"

"Wee." Jane sighed, glancing at the ADVENT troopers and hoping they hadn't noticed anything weird. The mission still had to mature before any actions were taken, after all.

A curse made her jump and look towards a cook that was holding his hand up. The others around him were laughing and shaking their heads, and even he was chuckling at the cut on his finger. Jane watched the blood slowly trickle down his hand as he moved away from the food and walked towards the bathroom to clean up.

She glanced at the ruby drops on the table where the chef had been working.

Jane licked her lips.

o.0.o End Chapter 180 o.0.o

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