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| Imperiatrix; [Broodlings] | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 19 2012, 06:54 AM (580 Views) | |
| Marrow | Jun 19 2012, 06:54 AM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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May 21st Dawn Several dozen miles from Utopia Nadi ran from the river, all pretense of holding the water pot aright lost. On any other day, she'd have defended it with her life. It had been in her family for generations. It lay now in that riverbed, shattered and broken, good now only to be claimed by the wilderness. Her feet padded against wet ground still slick with dew. There had been a change in the forests, in the rivers. The Awale tribe, one of the oldest of the few pocket-civilizations that dotted the Savage Lands, had curious bonds to this place. The grey skinned people were diplomats and artisans mostly, and though they had their warriors, such things were second-thought to many. Nadi hoped only that what little they had would be enough. Her childish hope fueled that dreamborn desire alongside little else. She ran screaming into the village, and its people slowly poked their heads clear from their huts and homes. "Credi! Credi!" She cried. "Credi deshi agano nedu wahlu!" Demons. Demons were coming. Things had, of course been on high alert since the arrival of the girl who fell from nowhere, the one with the strange markings, but in the time since then things had calmed. It was a false calm however, for the ground began to shake as those who had met Nadi at the river approached, and as the swarm barreled from the trees she let out a scream. The horde was upon them. From beneath there feet, hideous worms bellowed forth from the ground, grabbing and biting at bear feet as all who were able scrambled for weapons, for bows and spears and blades and bludgeons. Saurians, Birds, Cats, Hounds, all who found themselves prey to the Brood on the path here, all trampled forward as the village came under quick and merciless fire. The unrelenting horde came and moved as one, for it was one, all of it, including the Mighty Queen at its center, existed only as extension of the thought and will of a monarch housed eons away. The creature who had once been Marrow called a cease, and a shout came from the largest building, the few armed tribesman coming to a shocked halt, and the fighting all stopped. The old man, face hidden by a barkwood mask stepped from his hut, shaking off the grip of his young son who pleaded with him not to go. The Queen stepped forward, all brood in her path parting like a sentient sea in her path and folding back together in her wake. Healed from her beating at the hands of the temple's red-eyed guardian, free of most of the impeding fire-haired woman's mental shackling, she had grown in the time since her departure. A full eleven feet in the air she stood, looking down at him, her face barely human any more, eyes bruning with luminescent fluid, burning red-orange against the dawn. "Noga tali mak la see toh nahtrask." He inquired. The Queen tilted her head. "Bola shuk tat!" He said. "Neesat na go shi taraka mala tono." She said. "I know there is no trouble between us." And with that sentence her tail whipped forward, lashed across him as he was cut off at the knees, the brood descending upon him and tearing him apart as she turned to survey the purging of the village. ::Those of you selected from the mutants, meet me upon that high rock.:: She waded through the village as it was torn assunder, climbing the hillock behind the village to the Awale's shrine. |
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| Wolfsbane | Jun 19 2012, 07:33 AM Post #2 |
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Wolf Form
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Growth. It had been glorious. The young Broodling had since shed her initial exoskeleton, her more malleable form developing along proper Brood growth protocols. Her crest had grown significantly, fanning out behind its head. The human torso was gone, now segmented properly and streamlined (those fleshy orbs on the torso were particularly annoying). The abdomen developed fully, its vicious, bladed stinger as deadly as it ever would be. And she had grown, much larger. Maybe even twice the size the host ever was, for this Broodling was of the Elite. The Chosen. There were very few physical traces of the host remaining. If it weren't for the yellow, wolf-like eyes and the vicious, canine fangs capable of crushing things no other Brood mouth could, there would be no sign that this creature was ever Rahne Sinclair. And yet... and yet, that damnable host kept... influencing things. During the Brood's march, the Broodling could not... no matter how it tried, it could not kill their victims. She couldn't do it. She'd pull her strike at the last moment, or go for a less-than-deadly wound despite every desire to slay for its queen. And these lingering sentiments... breeding inclinations towards the one that was once the host's mate... they were annoying. The Broodling wanted no part of these feelings, and yet it still had them. It desired the large Broodling's company. Its touch. It wished to be spoken to softly, it wished to be loved... even though love was only ever reserved for the Queen and no other. The Broodling stayed by its Queen's side as she interfaced with one of the unevolved. What it was they were saying, the Broodling knew not. It was not its place to know such things. But the interaction was over soon. The Broodling watched as its fellows devoured the poor fool, feeling something of pity for him. Pity and sorrow. Damnable host. The lupine traits the host donated were very useful. These accursed morals that still lingered no matter how hard it tried to deny them were frustrating. The host was resisting conversion without even realizing she was resisting. ::Aye, muh Queen,:: the Broodling answered as the Queen summoned them elsewhere. As the others engaged in the destruction, the Broodling simply followed, unable to partake despite wishing very much to do so. At least this time, it could use the Queen's orders as an excuse. It wasn't Sinclair's morality that hindered its actions. It was the Queen's orders. *** Rahne had followed the insect creature for... for a long time, it seemed. The creature kept flying, no rest, no stopping. And Rahne did the same. In this mindscape, it seemed, she was inexhaustible. In the real world, there were physical limitations to worry about. muscle fatigue. Hunger. Exhaustion. Here, it was all willpower. All stubbornness, hard-headedness, and determination, and Rahne Sinclair had all of that to spare. But so too, it seemed, did her quarry. This horrible, grotesque insect monster of a quarry seemed in no hurry to stop, saw no need to slow down, no need to stop. Did it have a goal? Was it trying to reach somewhere? Why was it doing this? And was there ever going to be an end to all of this? Finally, patience began to run thin. Rahne had been tracking this monster for years now. Years. She had had enough. She wanted answers. Now. She surged forward with a breathtaking burst of speed that her physical form would not have been capable of. This was not the speed of muscles, this was the speed of thought. And Rahne was a much quicker thinker than most people, namely those who went up against her, gave her credit for. Clearly, this monster hadn't taken her brainpower into account. She leaped upward, lunging for the monster and biting at its rearmost leg. The creature screeched in protest, thrashing wildly for a moment before flinging Rahne into the side of a tree. Pain. It hurt, no doubt about that. If this were the real world, her innards would have been liquefied from such a blow. But here, it just really really really hurt. The creature was angry now, and dove for Rahne. But Rahne was ready. The wolf hunched low, fangs bared, and just as the insect creature opened its mouth to bite at Rahne's head, she jumped to the right, bounding off of a tree and kicking, bouncing back onto the creature's back and grabbing its left wing securely in her fangs. She bit down hard and gave a good, wrenching tear with her neck. The creature screeched in agony as the wing was torn free, and crashed to the ground. But Rahne would not relent. She wanted this thing down, wanted it finished, and then she could ask it questions. If she was in a questioning mood. "Aaaach! Get off me!" the creature snarled, heaving with its back to throw Rahne off of it. In her surprise to hear it speak, Rahne subconsciously allowed herself to be thrown. Its voice... "Ye... ye sound just like me..." Rahne realized. "That's 'cause I bloody well am you, ye great bampot!" the creature answered, thin, needle-like fangs bared. "And ye're ruinin' everything!" |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Kevin Ford | Jun 22 2012, 05:00 PM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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Change was needed. The broodling grew and changed, following the needs that were displayed in his time thus far with the queen. Where the female had changed into a sleeker seeming appearance, his had gone larger and bulkier. He was much larger than he had been previously and the once thinner plating was now coating his back like a large shell, deposits of the chitlin piled in various spots to form a horned defense down his spine. The host had been thin and had lacked the structure to withstand an attack from one like Colossus. There were many in that group that had strength similar to the metal man. There was no choice but to compensate. The pinchers at the abdomen grew with, sharpening towards the end. His host? There were complaints from things tugging at his mind, disputing killing. Death was the part of his abilities that the young Kevin Ford had hated despite the fact that it was the nature of his powers. Unfortunately for the once-human, the broodling was led by something far more powerful than a moral conundrum. Love for the Queen. Do live, breath, fight, and kill for her and their purpose were all instinctual to the brood. How do you fight something that's instinct? The people around were running, screaming, trying to flee from the inevitable. His plated claw hand snatched one by the neck, his scythe-esque pincer cutting through like the creature had been made of sticks and playdough. His Queen called to him and the other chosen. The large plates on his back rose, the wings he'd developed earlier made the creature look rather like a beetle. Though he could not fly at a fast pace the wings assisted in his journey as he clawed his way up to the rock, to his Queen. He stooped in a bow when he arrived, looking up to her with reverence. "What is it you wish of me my Queen?" |
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| Werewolf | Jun 24 2012, 12:47 AM Post #4 |
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Unregistered
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His Queen commanded their presence, but it was the word 'mutant' that gave the feral Broodling pause. He tried his best to ignore his host and whatever growling shadow it was that lurked in the back of the once-mutant's mind. Jacob Russoff had put up a valiant but futile effort, and one look at the surface of his memories proved just how weak-minded such a creature had become; he cared far too much for those that did not matter. The lingering feelings the lycanthrope shapeshifter held for the female Broodling were distracting. The Brood was all, and the only love he had was the love for his Queen. Jack's new body had already had another increase in size, his physiology growing even more distant from what he used to be. His carapace had since thickened from being split, and his venomous stinger had fully formed. And yet, he hardly noticed it; he did not need to compensate for the weight added to his frame, nor did he need to compare himself to the rest. He was simply becoming Brood, and there was no need to trust in anything else. The Broodling's thick, translucent wings still beating too fast for normal eyes to see, he descended from the skies to the peak of the hillock before heavily perching on a boulder, its surface warm from baking in the sun. His gaze roved over the carnage below, restlessly clucking the end of his forked tongue behind his rows of deadly teeth. His nature bade him to join them, but that was not what his Queen wanted for him; she had other plans. The other two Broodlings were there already, and the creature that once was Jack pushed aside the desire to gaze upon the female and the equal desire to protect her from what Jacob Russoff deemed unsafe. He bowed low as the Brood Queen ascended the rocky cliff face, dipping his head to expose the the mirrored black stripes curving up his brow. ::Yes, my Queen. What is your command?:: |
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| Marrow | Jun 24 2012, 02:08 AM Post #5 |
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Unregistered
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She stood there on the rocky face that backed against the village, watched as her children, the fledgling outset of a new horde, a new wing of the Brood coming to fruition after eons of dormancy, consumed the village and its inhabitants. The screams were a cacophonous symphony, the horror and pain and fear palpable in the red-misted air. One eye caught the child that had fled them at the river, beating back what she could with her spear, and as her children overtook her, as they descended upon her, the Brood Queen only smiled. It was a cruel, wicked expression. Her three chosen mounted the ridge behind her, and she looked to them over her shoulder before looking back down into the carnage unfolding below. "Do you know, my beautiful ones, why we do not convert these? Why they are naught but cattle to be consumed by us?" Of course they did. She turned to them. "Because they are lost in the midway between savagery and enlightenment. The instinctual beasts, their predecessors, are our children because they know no better. Those evolved beyond them, such as our hosts, they are men of intellect, creatures of emotion and ambition. These two extremes are flexible, corruptible, but these..." She crouched down, picked something up, and turning back to them, she hoisted the heavy browed skull of the village leader, still dripping with blood and scraps of flesh. Delivered to her by one of those converted Flock. She eyed it, picked a strip of flesh from it's bald head, stuck it cleanly in her mouth. "These are stuck somewhere between that savage notion and it's illuminated brother. They are useless, too uncontrollable. They hold no place in The Brood." She looked back across the Savage Lands, racial memory flooding in, reminding of wars long since ended, on this planet and others. "In that temple though, we noticed something, something... interesting, if you would." She turned then to face them fully, those flanges of chitnous skeleton appearing far more like a frame of wings than any sort of legs. It was a sign of the Queen's dominance. That even though she lacked the drones talents of flight she was still above them, the hub through which flowed the will of the Imperiatrix, the First Born of the Brood. "We are effectively cut off from our people. We are far out of the Starsinger's migrant paths, and will find none of them passing this way. This planet is ours for the taking, and it all lies through that temple's Guardians. We will overtake them, you see, but we are no longer of the Imperiatrix's ilk. We are a new chapter you see. We are a new Brood. A new strain born of this hardship." She squeezed the skull in her hand, splintering away the bone, revealing the soft gray matter within, and she bit into it much like one would an apple before tossing it back down the cliff face and turning to her children. "Our Empress is gone from us." She gave them all a stern-faced look. It was spoken in the Old Overmind that Individuality was Weakness. That free thought bred anarchy. In severing her from the overmind, even so briefly, she had tasted that anarchy, and she had liked it. Savored it. She would become a new Overmind, a new Brood. "The Imperiatrix is dead. Long live the Imperiatrix." |
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| Wolfsbane | Jun 24 2012, 03:51 AM Post #6 |
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Wolf Form
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Flight was an... uneasy thrill. It was within the Brood nature to exercise the wings, to take flight through the air and rain death from above. However, it ran counter to the host's instincts, and that part of her bucked against it. Felt ill-at-ease and made the flight path uneven, wavering. Not to mention this distraction from within. The host had finally become aware. Aware only to a certain degree, but still aware. And she was fighting what she had become. What she had been forced to step aside to make way for. It was an unwanted distraction and the Broodling didn't understand why it was so difficult. Why this host was able to put up such a fight. ::N-no, muh liege...:: The Broodling answered through their hive mind's link. The creature did its level best to divide attention between what the Queen was saying and this little fight the host was putting up. The host would be squashed, crushed underfoot and locked away again - unable to resist any more. The Queen would be proud for this small conquest. That her Broodling had subjugated the pesky, persistent problems of the host. However, much of the Queen's explanation was lost. Something about the middle of two extremes... ::We are... alone?:: The Broodling was confused. Alone? Cut off? Were they doomed, then? Cast away by their own kind and left to die on this pitiful mudball? No. The Queen had faith in their own strength. And the Broodling had faith in the Queen. ::Long live the new Imperiatrix,:: she echoed, bending her forelegs enough to bow to the Queen, head dipping low to the ground. *** "Who... whatever ye are, ye're nae me," Rahne growled at the bug as it struggled to regain its footing. Already the wing that was severed was regrowing. Dealing lasting damage to this monster cockroach was going to be difficult, if not impossible. "Ohhhhh, but I am. We're chosen, ye see. Yuir friend... Sarah, was it? She's our Queen, and she has chosen you t' be the first of her royal lineage. She chose you... t' be me," the thing almost seemed to laugh, chortle cruelly in Rahne's own voice. "That's... that's nae possible, it's..." "It is an' ye damn well know it. Ye're already lookin' more like me than yuir old self. Soon enough, there's gonna be no trace left of Rahne Sinclair an' all that'll be left... is Brood. Ye'll live on in us, so why dinnae ye do yuirself a favor an' accept it? Ye'll never win." "Ye're nae the first t' tell me that. Ye'll nae be the last," Rahne snarled, ears folding back, lips curling to bare her fangs. "Dinnae ye get it? I am the last! There's no goin' back from this! Ye're Brood now an' that is final! Ye cannae defeat me, my Queen's will is too strong!" The bug was getting angry. Good. Rahne knew well enough that when opponents got angry, they got sloppy. When they got sloppy, they made mistakes. "An' it would seem that likewise, ye cannae defeat me," Rahne's voice came as a growl, a bestial snarl of savagery that few people got to see. "Ye've already been defeated! Ye've lost! 'Tis over, so roll over an' play dead!" "No. I'm still here. I'm still aware. Ye cannae beat me, 'cause ye need me. Ye need muh cooperation. An' ye'll never have it. Ever. Ye say this is irreversible? Then I'll focus every fiber o' muh being into fightin' you. I'll claw an' I'll bite an' I'll tear at ye - over an' over an' over again an' ye'll never be rid o' me. Every wakin' moment, I'll be gnawin' at yuir consciousness. An' as ye sleep - if ye sleep, I'll be yuir worst nightmares. An' how, pray tell, will that affect ye out there in my body? Will ye slip up? Will ye be clumsy? Will ye temporarily cede control an' allow me a chance to sabotage yuir actions? Ye want to take over my body? Pilot it like it's yuir own machine? I'll make sure ye're drivin' as faulty a model as possible. An' that's gonna be yuir entire miserable parasitic life." The creature was dumbstruck. Jaw hung open, quivering in mute rage. Until finally... "YOUUUUU!! I'll break ye! Break ye to tiny pieces an' bury ye so deep ye'll never get out again!" the creature lunged for Rahne, mouth wide open and showing off deadly, vicious fangs, ready to savagely destroy the wolf. The creature collided into a wall of irresistible force, of immovable will and determination, falling in a heap to the ground. "No... you... ye cannae do this... ye... can't..." the creature gasped. "Watch me," Rahne snarled, and pounced. Leaped high into the air and then down to deliver the killing blow to the creature. But when she landed, it wasn't there. It had taken to the air, flying off. Better to retreat, better to focus on staying out of the host's reach, then to risk the fight. Neither could be destroyed. The wolf couldn't kill the Brood, the Queen's will kept it alive. The Brood couldn't kill the wolf - kill the host, and the body would die too. The creature dared to glance back, and caught glimpse of a glowing red streak hot on its tail. The wolf wasn't kidding. She was never going to give up. "How are these creatures so damn willful?" the Brood muttered to itself, flying as fast as it could to remain out of the wolf's reach. |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Kevin Ford | Jun 28 2012, 07:59 AM Post #7 |
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Unregistered
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The Queen looked down and addressed to them a question about the massacre occuring below at the hands of their brethren. It was an intruiging question. Were these people not of the same basic composition as their hosts? He listened quietly as she explained why these cattle people were being treated as so and couldn't help but agree with what she said. No place in the Brood indeed. They ran and screamed like pathetic primates. The other, the more feral of the group joined them and the broodling turned back to his observation. Unlike the other two his host held very little emotional connection to the rest. Raising his head to look back at their queen he couldn't help but feel concerned. They were detached from their Empress? The little broodling looked up to the sky, unsure of of how to react at the thought of being cut off from the others. "...new Brood..." He muttered, intruiged by the thought. An improvement on the old Brood undre a new regime. A stronger line of the great race that was destined to take over the world as it was, knowing now that it was because they were better. Their Queen's face was stern and drew his attention to her. Everything was so open to possibilities when it came to those that were worthy of being hosts for their race. And if those potentials were guarding something special in that temple then it was nothing more than his duty to acquire anything his new Emperess wished. The brood grinned with excitement and glee, "I will do as you wish my Emperess." The creature straightened out again and turned to watch his bretheren's ramage once more. "What would you ask of me?" |
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| Werewolf | Jun 30 2012, 01:49 AM Post #8 |
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Unregistered
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For some time the Queen looked upon the destruction of the natives before she addressed them, her expression speaking of something deadly and wonderful. Their Queen was most admirable; she did not falter regarding those below them as of lesser nature and in giving the news of their relative isolation from the rest of their kind. There was to be a new way and a new order; something better and stronger. And yet, her plan was unorthodox, a tactic completely unheard of, and despite that knowledge the feral Broodling found inside his host an already existing hunger to subsist. Whomever Jacob Russoff was, he was no stranger to blood or faint of heart when it meant survival or death. It was a good plan; the Brood would be of the highest caliber and nothing less. "We will create a superior Brood, my Queen," he rasped, his voice thick and guttural. "Long live the Impieratrix," the Broodling agreed in unison with his female comrade, dipping his body as low as his limbs would allow. He was a loyal disciple, but there yet existed some deep desire to please the companion of his host. Vexed by the emotional attachments of his own shell, the Broodling rose quickly from his bow and let his gaze drift to what was left of the struggle of the natives. The deep rooted thrill of the hunt quickened in his veins as he watched the last of tribe struck down in showers of their blood and flesh. "Are there more undeserving of your conversion, my Queen? We will hunt them down." |
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| Marrow | Jun 30 2012, 07:45 AM Post #9 |
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"No, My Child." She said to the Broodling born of the mutant Werewofl. "No, I, your Empress, will build a better Brood. You are my hands. My weapons and heralds. You are my instruments of progress, those who hoist my banner. " It's eyes closed. "They already seek to subvert us. They seek to find a way to kill us, to rob my children of their birthright, of their right to follow my will. The door to the world will open in a few days time. When it does, we will be there. We will crash against these human deviants as we crashed against the Nuwali, as we did the deviant Skrull, as we have against civilizations countless and innumerable. They will fall beneath our weight, and we will fell this world. In a single of their months we will control this planet, we will spew our children into the skies, to the spaces beyond that, and in a few centuries, when the Starsingers' migrational currents bring them this way, we shall take them for our chariots and we will continue bringing our way to this galaxy. Should we encounter old friends we shall make them of our Brood, and then we will continue. This galaxy will be ours and the next, and the next." Billions of years of racial memory flooded their psychic consensus. World fallen and razed in days, interstellar empires dismantled with little effort or trouble. The Brood, in that moment, felt together, saw together, heard and spoke together. Her eyes opened, and she looked to the Broodling born of Wolfsbane. "Your host gives you troubles. I feel apprehension in you, resistance. If she gains the upper hand, you will exterminate yourself." She looked back down to the village, now a writhing pool of slithering shapes fighting over scraps of meat. Faint screaming could be heard in all directions, the smell of blood drenching the air. In the back of her mind, something fought, the last vestiges of the pitiful creature that had provided a frame on which for her to build. It's machinations were too little, too late. The thought of the woman Marrow's futility brought a smile to her face. The Imperiatrix tipped her head upwards, towards the tree-line. Something shuddered, just beneath the canopy. "We still need more. The Red-Eyed Guardian is working handily to bring about our end. He seeks to use Function to purge this land if we gain too far of an upperhand. By the time we are finished, he will be tearing that machine apart himself." She grinned wide as the creature beneath the canopy rose above the green, a might roar echoing across the valley. Where once stood a king of lizards now stood a horror of hooks and blades, of gnashing teeth and too many eyes, its colorful scales far gone and replaced with the pearlescent chitin that offered more protection. "More. Take pods of my children into the wilds. Find more followers. Convert them to our cause. In just a few days, we will win our Freedom and Glory for The Brood." |
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| Wolfsbane | Jun 30 2012, 04:27 PM Post #10 |
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Wolf Form
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The Broodling was confused. Why couldn't it be a 'we' who were building a better Brood? Were the Queen's children somehow... less? If she could declare herself a new Imperiatrix, then surely the old rules did not apply. Surely there was more a Broodling could offer in this new world order than the old roles of the old Brood. But it was best not to voice such concerns. No. In fact, the Broodling did not understand why they even came to mind. That was very non-Brood thinking. All for the glory of the Queen, all for the glory of the Imperiatrix. The Broodling was nothing. The Brood was all. And that was simply the way it was. "Tha... that will nae be necessary," the creature answered with some fear. It did not wish to die. It did not wish to lose this battle against the host. "She is... stubborn, strong. But she'll break. None may stand against yuir glory an' power f'r long." But the creature couldn't help but wonder. Was its host the only one that was problematic? Were the males offering no resistance? Accepting their fate blindly? Why must this host cling so defiantly to her existence? Why must she be so stubborn ? It was surely not the Broodling's fault, was it? Its own weakness? Its own shortcoming? Was it not made of perfection like its Queen? If this Broodling was flawed, was the Queen so flawed as well? Was that why the separation from the grand colony? Because they were undesirable? Were they cut off because they were imperfect? There was something very wrong here... very very wrong. *** The creature continued its escape, continued fleeing from its host. It was the only recourse. The only way to go. The wolf was not to be defeated. She was too stubborn, too strong of will. It was surely some sort of abberation. In the faint memories of the grand hive, the Brood could recall no species that could resist the conversion through sheer force of will. Was this wolf indicative of the species as a whole? Or was this an aberration? Was this a fluke, a one-off and the others saw no such trouble? But then - the Queen noticed. The Queen offered up an ultimatum. "Ye heard that!" the creature offered back to its pursuer. "If ye keep resisting like this, we both die! Do ye want that? Do ye want to sacrifice yuirself for nothing?" "I'd gladly die if it meant gettin' rid of you!" the answer came back, clear and strong over the mind waves. The Broodling creature muttered a curse under its breath, annoyed and exasperated. So damn stubborn. So damn willful. It was insane. The Queen must have chosen wrong. Or maybe the Queen had created a defective Brood, because the Queen was defective. What then? Were they doomed? The creature didn't realize that this was exactly what Rahne Sinclair wanted it to think. She wanted it to doubt, wanted it to question its purpose in life. If it had doubts, she had an advantage. She had a strong position from which she could forcefully take her life back. She could only hope, and pray, that anyone else taken was doing the same. She could feel that there were others through this creature's hive mind. She couldn't tell who they were, but she could feel them. Sarah was dead, she accepted that and mourned her loss, but that meant at least that there was no reason not to kill the queen. No reason to not take her head off of her hideous, bloated body and crush it to a pulp. Kill the queen, stop the Brood. Stop the Brood, save the world. It had to be done. It simply had to. She just prayed that the X-Men were up to the task. |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Werewolf | Jul 4 2012, 06:49 PM Post #11 |
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The feral Broodling meant to twist his features into some mask of an emotion he was no longer capable of expressing; the feeble host's tender sensibilities still lingered. He forced the Werewolf back under, allowing his face to return to a still one; he did not want to die either. "Yes, my Queen," the Broodling complied, bowing deeply once more. "I am mistaken. I exist only in Your guidance." At first, things seemed grave in the Imperatrix's revelations, but the Broodlings were quickly reassured. They were simply too few to serve their Queen properly. She needed more Broodlings in her ranks, and she had tasked the three of them to acquire those bodies. Following his Queen's gaze, the Broodling looked upon on of her newest children, great and terrible and strong as it thundered through the trees. The memories of Jacob Russoff were at least useful here to know that they would need more. He did not doubt the Brood, but he knew that the mutants were nothing if not stubborn. "We are yours to command," he affirmed, his translucent wings fluttering faintly. Deep inside his mind, almost removed from the Broodling's own consciousness, Jack Russell could do nothing. He was blind to the whole world, and he couldn't save anyone, much less himself. |
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| Kevin Ford | Jul 14 2012, 02:11 AM Post #12 |
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Hoist the banner, herald, a position of authority in an army. The speech in regards to the humans resonated with the broodling. Humans had shown themselves to be cruel and unworthy. The fires they had used to destroy so many, destroy those different from them, would be turned against them. The brood would crash against them like a wave and he would much rather be with the queen, as a Herald, than in the much below them. A trait of his host was at the very least doubled in the broodling, though directed towards one creature, one goal. The will of their new Empress. He followed the gaze to the female and watched her closely. Her host was gaining control? This was not good news, not in the least. He would have to watch her closely, and the other. The male feral had an attachment to her when they were hosts. He would protect their Emperess from them should they turn against her, should their minds and wills be sullied. He would kill them himself if he needed to. "By your will, my Queen." He looked back towards where the temple had been placed, lost in thought for a few minutes, listening to the screams coming from below them. "He will not be an easy conquest, My Queen. The more we convert, the more furious his attempts will become. However, I do not think he will attack us. Not while he still feels the hosts can be saved." Foolish man he was, to think that he was able to save them. To think that their efforts in their little base might make some impact on the cause. |
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2:24 PM Jul 11