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| Cocoon; X-Men/Faculty PM for Invite | |
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| Topic Started: May 28 2012, 07:45 PM (625 Views) | |
| Marrow | May 28 2012, 07:45 PM Post #1 |
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May 13th Noon Infirmary Containment Cell Fingerless, toothless, and now, without hope, she lay there, still, quiet. She hadn’t been conscious since the day she’d spoken to Rahne in the infirmary. The medical staff had done their jobs with valor, but in the end it had ultimately been fruitless. Whatever had afflicted Marrow, it was clear that it was quick in its work, and deadly. Her breathing labored as she slept, each gasp laced with phlegm and rasp. Her violet skin had lost its glow, becoming muted, mottled, hard like plates, her fingers withered and decayed, as did her toes, her teeth were a memory, and none of that was reversible. McCoy had found only perplexing riddles as to this ailment. Its symptoms were easy to ascertain, but as for the cause… not so much. As Sarah’s withered frame lay in a containment room, she began to stir, or rather, something inside began to stir. It was no fault of Hanks to have missed it, this small creature; it had only reached noticeable size in the last few hours, and its traceable cells, much like the host it infested, had mimicked familiar territory in order to fool scans both artificial and otherwise. But moved it did. Inside the liquefied innards of the young girl, around the reinforced skeleton, a form shifted out of her organs, given sudden life, shaking off its camouflage. It moved with dire purpose to the spine, to the brain, and in its base it jabbed a needle, filling it with evil and evolution. In that moment Marrow, as a whole, expired, but she did not die. The body quivered and stirred against the tight cocoon it had made of its hosts’ body, stirred, but there was little left; yes, the mind of Sarah Rushman still existed, but the body was broken, damaged. The creature filling that brain with its venomous intent reacted accordingly, and as its methods worked over rearranged strands of deoxyriboncleics, it turned on that which it now needed, and Marrow’s uncanny affinity for healing re-engaged, kick-starting the process. She shot forward, breathing as fluid drained from new lungs. New hearts began beating, new stomachs began churning in the free-floating miasma of caustic fluids in her core that would burn all save her lined innards. Where fingers had rotted and come loose new claws jutted, three-fingered hands with deadly points, two claws sprang from the feet, one from the heel. Her movement tore away at paper thin skin, revealing deep, purplish chitinous plate beneath as the remaining red staining its shining, impermeable surface dribbled off to the pristine floors of the containment unit. And then in that glorious instance its mind reached across the room, the floor, the building, out into the wilds of this jungle prison that had kept it so dormant for so long, it reached out beyond the ice and snow and beyond the oceans, beyond the skies, the moon, it reached out beyond the edges of the sun, beyond everything, and in that instant it met with the mind of its kin, its clan, its brothers, its sisters. It met with them all, that glorious nexus of knowledge housed far out beyond the western spiral arm of the galaxy, beyond nebulae and the vast spaces between stars and it found its maker, its lover, its sire. And in that glorious instant it found its Brood. Clawed feet tapped against the hard floor, the mind of Marrow screamed somewhere, though nobody would hear it to know. This vessel was no longer hers after all. Eyelids slid open over burning orange glows, the world unfolding in the varying colors of thermal expression natural to its kind. She had never seen the world before, this body thief, and had she ducts for tears she might have shed them in joy. The Empress screamed in her mind. The dictatum was always the same; convert, conquer, continue. In that cell, royalty had been born. Already she had birthed children however; the air in this place had been thick with them for days, but for now, she needn’t speak with her children, they needed time much as she had. These odd creatures, these balding apes, they were strong of will, and assimilation was more sensitive, more difficult to worm away. She took a cautious step forward, loosing balance, the weight on her back heavy, The Queen remembered then, and hunching over, she pulled forward her arms, the old useless cage of ribs bending, breaking, tearing away the flesh of her back to reveal more of the chitinous surface, but more importantly, means of balance and, perhaps most importantly, attack. The long, winding, skeletal tail unfurled, its jagged sting shaking off the stinking fluid of its housing as the spines of bone unfurled themselves, arching behind her, resembling skeletal wings of some bat-like creature, though they were without sail and thus relegated to mode of balance, each of the six spines twitching as the Queen shook loose the tendrils that mimicked a head of hair. She moved towards the glass pane of the observation chamber, those burning luminescent orbs peering into the observation room outside. The Infirmary lay just beyond. The Queen grinned, twin rows of sharp fangs lining both top and bottom of her maw. The Queen with Marrow’s face grinned wide. The Brood grinned with her. Tail and arms whipped back and then forward with ruthless purchase, shattering away glass meant to hold back titanic feats of strength. Another insectoid limb moved from her back to wipe away stray cyrstaline jags from the frame and she stepped out. Already the containment alarm was going off. Doors. These primitives still used doors. The Brood could not be contained, not by something so byzantine as a door. The thick metal was ripped from its hinges and she stepped out into the infirmary. The primitives stationed to watch over the dead woman were here already, she only smiled to them, this eight foot matriarch, and she idly perused the contents of the medical ward, removing a stethoscope from a table, turning it about in clawed hands before tossing it back down with an ungainly, light laugh. Then, moving a few clicking steps closer, she tilted her head, nodding to them in greeting before bending both knees, resting on them on the floor as those wing-like chutes of chitin folded behind her back, tail wrapping around her kneeling shape once before its jagged sting planted itself into the stone of the floor. The Brood perused the ascertained knowledge of this host, and in a voice filled with echoes that poorly mimicked the sound of Sarah Rushman, she said her first words. The containment breach blared, but she spoke up none the less. "We surrender." Dead pale lips curled in a smile, which her knowledge said was a source of comfort to these soft things. "We come bearing news." And now, the waiting game began. |
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| Beast | May 31 2012, 03:36 AM Post #2 |
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In the days after Sarah, better known to some as Marrow came to the infirmary literally falling apart. He spent the better part of the last week and a half awake, working on her case alone. Hours, even days without sleep until he passed out somewhere in the lab only to awaken shortly later to resume his work. The good doctor tried so desperately to cure her of the mysterious ailment. There was no giving up for him, he refused to let another perish because of his ineptitude in ability to discover the source and a cure to what threatened a person he cared for, friend or student, he could not let them die. However early this morning he was at the end of three days in a row of being awake, and what he planned on being just a blink of the eyes became a four hour nap. The Beast remained ignorant to the metamorphosis that was occurring under his nose, ignorant of his failure. Until the monitor connected to the young woman flat lined as the new creature inhabiting her body pulled free. Hank rose his head shaking off the sleep and finding himself staring at the camera's monitor of the quarantine. "Oh my stars and-" He stopped himself quickly hitting the alarm near the desk her had placed himself at. Before he had a chance to make an announcement on the alarm in the infirmary that signaled others to come, the metal door of the isolation room was ripped off the hinges with strenght Marrow had not previously professed. What came out was not the plum skinned young woman, but something far more disturbing in apperance, and mannerisms. And she surrendered. "Sarah...is that you?" Hank asked. "What have you done?" |
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| Synch (old) | Jun 1 2012, 01:53 AM Post #3 |
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Ability Synchronization
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Thousands upon thousands of miles away from the city of New York and trouble still managed to creep its way into the home of the X-Men. Some how trouble and misery always found a way to rain on their parade. This time it was in was in the form of an imposter in the ranks. Little Artie, the pink skinned morlock that you could not help but love, turned out to be some sort of green shapeshifting creature. He had long replaced the boy that had been living with them for a number of years. It made Everett question whether or not he truly knew the boy or anyone else for that matter. Now was not the time to be getting paranoid, but it was hard not to. To think that whatever had replaced him was good enough to go unnoticed for this long was astonishing. On top of that, Marrow was going through a sickness unlike anything he had ever seen. The man was no scientist, not even close. Hank had been doing his best to figure out what was wrong with her and he hoped his colleague and friend would figure it out. But in the mean time all he could do was hope and pray for the best. Everett had been overseeing a sparring session between a couple of the younger students when the alarms went off in the infirmary section of the base. “Session over for now, guys. We’ll pick this up later.” “Mr. Thomas what’s going on?” asked one of the students. “No clue, but stay here.” Everett turned and headed toward the infirmary. There was no announcement to follow the alarms and that was not a sign of all is well. If that were the case someone would have informed them so. Everett quickened his pace and in no time reached the infirmary. When the doors opened and he stepped inside, the man paused. There was someone… something kneeling in the middle of the floor. The bone-like carapace surrounding its body and the long tendrils from its head made it look very dangerous. It. “What the hell?” He arched his neck and cautiously took a step or two forward to get a better view. It was female. Everett was clueless. He looked to Hank who was just as baffled. “Should we just be standing here or what?” Everett didn’t want to just jump the gun and rush the strange female. That could bring more harm than good. |
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| Derek Addams | Jun 1 2012, 06:17 PM Post #4 |
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Derek had been busy whistling while he worked. Well, not whistling, but singing. It was how he kept himself in a chipper mood lately when he was doing his "job"; The things around the base that he did whenever the world wasn't about to explode or their entire way of life wasn't about to come crashing down about them. He'd just sing whatever song came to his head. No matter how silly, annoying, or depressing the song itself or his voice might come across to listeners, it helped him. Today, he'd chosen an old-fashioned country song that was well in his range, but without the accent and under his breath so he wouldn't disturb the classes. He was doing a trash run, gathering up whatever he found in the wastebaskets and taking them to the incinerator. "It's fare thee well my old lover, I never expect to see you again, For I'm bound to ride that nor-" Then he was completely drowned out by the sound of the sirens. Immediately, he stopped singing and glanced around. That sound... bad. That is a bad sound! He gritted his teeth as he abandoned the cart and dashed toward the source. It was coming from the infirmary. Usually when a siren went off in the infirmary, it meant that someone in there had their powers go awry while they were getting treatment, nwhich meant that it could potentially take a whole squad of X-Men to calm them down. Marrow... She was the first one to reach the front of his mind as far as infirmary patients went. She'd been one of his main concerns in the past couple of weeks given her condition. Whatever it was that had taken her down for the count, if it was capable of even getting past her healing factor, the scenario he pictured was that she had woken up fever-crazed and homicidal. And given her nature, she's not one to -OPEN- He practically punched the panel to the med bay and charged in, finding himself face to face to some seriously high octane nightmare fuel. The twisted and gnarled form in front of him was like something he could only compare to a Sigourney Weaver movie. He'd almost run right into it, but then quickly jumped back and pulled his fists up. "JEEZ!" Adrenaline kicked in, but thankfully, he wasn't the first one there. Hank and Ev's presence stopped him enough to take in more of the situation. The thing wasn't lashing about and attacking. It was sitting perfectly still, patient, waiting. His eyes widened as his eyes took it in, and Doc addressed it as "Sarah" Sarah...? That's Marrow!? Synch's voice came to him over the noise, then. Normally, he would have been all for beating it down... but this didn't look anything like the green-skinned impostor that had replaced Artie, so what the hell was it? Her calm demeanor and Beast's voice made him wonder if her mutation had just "advanced". He'd heard about it. Okay... let's talk... Her face was mostly the same. Is it still Sarah..? His usual defense came forward as he kept in his fighting stance. "Lemme guess..." he squeaked, his tension cracking his voice. "You changed your hair?" If he didn't joke about it, he was sure he was going to start screaming questions even stupider than that one. |
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| Marrow | Jun 1 2012, 07:05 PM Post #5 |
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She peered forward at the three meeklings. Hank, Derek, Synch. She had never met them but the host knew them fairly well. Those memories made the creature before them smile as it crouched there in the center of the infirmary. It's gesture of diplomacy lost on them, the wrapping of that deadly tail and its plunging into the soil, it was some lost custom of old Brood souls long dead or moved on. Instead she then stood, towering over the three present looking around inquisitively. "We love what you've done with this place. When last we were here it was less than pristine." Of course it was also covered in the bleeding entrails of Nuwali as well. She moved to a bank of monitoring equipment, bending down to get a closer look. "Your technology is nothing, it seems, not by the standards of some of the more advanced civilizations I've lain eyes upon." She looked at them. "The torkurasza for example have ceased in using anything but hardlight for their visual displays, for example." She tapped the screen lightlight with a clawed finger. "This is very primitive." She turned back to them, moving slowly and deliberately. "We wish you no harm, of that we have already stated. We wish to speak to leadership." The Brood Queen cataloged memory after memory. "Cyclops, is his name. Of course we'll ultimately be needing to speak with your species' overlord but that will come in time. You are trapped here in the Cage the Nuwali built for us, we will help you remove these locks if indeed you allow us." And then something else came to call in her mind. "The Sentience is here, isn't it." She nodded assertively, the hosts memory of that jungle facility bubbling over a vivid racial crash course in Brood conquests of the last several thousand years. "She will unlock the way for us, we think." And then she noticed it, something far off, in another part of the infirmary. "Oh, you've caught a Skrull." She looked between the three of them. "You should take us to it." By now she was no less than ten paces from them, no more than three or four of her own. "We are sorry, we've just been awakened, rambling will cease once we've assimilated the host further." |
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| Cyclops | Jun 3 2012, 09:38 PM Post #6 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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"Tell us about the Skrull," came Scott's voice, ringing out calm and collected in the face of this horrifying sight, over the sound of the alarms, "Tell us about yourself," he added, as he crossed the room, with long quick strides. He was a tall man, and a good deal of that height was in the length of his legs, and he understood the importance of maintaining an upper hand when dealing with the unknown. By closing the gap between them in this unwavering and rapid fashion, he projected not only an air of confidence, but one of competence. Whatever this was, this was connected to the Skrull, to the Nuwali. It was connected to the very creation of the Savage Land, which he had brought his people to for their safety. He was going to maintain that safety at all costs. He'd lost enough people. This had to stop. Taking a position before the thing that had torn itself from Marrow's body, that had reshaped her, and was now referring to her as a "host," Scott said, without turning his head, "Someone shut those alarms off, and take this facility up to a yellow alert. I want all staff and students accounted for but there's no need to go to lock down," he focused his attention back on their 'guest' and said, "Or is there? You wanted to speak to me, then speak. You're currently causing one of mine a considerable amount of distress. Tell me, is that distress going to be fatal? If so, that puts you in a precarious situation. As of this moment, I'm hesitant to use my powers on you for fear of injuring Marrow moreso than she already is. If she's lost to us, I might not have that sort of restraint, should it become necessary to use such drastic measures." Stopping just out of her striking distance, seemingly rooted to the floor though Scott's weight was balanced on deceptively planted toes in case he had to move, he said, "Synch, Bruiser, stand down, but stay focused, please. Dr McCoy, what am I looking at here? What's happened?" Cocking his head toward the thing in the shreds of Marrow, he said, "Or should I ask you that? Yes, we have a skrull, and by the 'Sentience' I'm going to assume you mean the Nuwali's danger program. Yes, she's here too. So, tie these loose ends up. What exactly is happening here? What's the end goal of what's being done?" |
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2:17 PM Jul 11