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| A Test of Loyalty; Tag: Witherbrood | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 14 2012, 02:44 AM (412 Views) | |
| Wolfsbane | Jul 14 2012, 02:44 AM Post #1 |
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Wolf Form
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Timeframe: May 21st, early evening The Broodling formerly known as Rahne Sinclair plunged its claws deep into the neck of a hadrosaur after latching onto the larger creature's back from an airborne dive. It relished in the lizard's futile writhing, its screeches of pain and horror before it fell forward with a crash. It still struggled as blood poured out over the wound, and the Broodling couldn't help but feel some superiority over its host in this moment. The wolf would never have been able to kill this creature singly, would never have been able to bring down such a large beast without help from others. And yet, despite this obvious superiority, the host was still a problem. Still resisting. It was mad. It was insane. Did she not see now that it was futile? That Brood were superior in every way? Why did she still fight the inevitable? And why, why could the Brood not vanquish her? What was it about her that made her so damn unkillable? The hadrosaur's thrashings became less and less, weaker and weaker as it began to die in the Broodling's grip. It was almost sad. Almost. But some needed to die to sustain the many. In another time, perhaps this hadrosaur would have been a mighty Brood steed, or a juggernaut charging the front lines of war against lesser creatures. But now, it was just food. A small squadron of converted Flock dragons dove down to take from the prey and the Broodling snarled at them, baring its vicious fangs to protect the carcass. "No!" it roared, causing the former dragons to recoil mid-flight and reel back. "This... this is for our queen. She gets first choice, we what she does nae take for herself." Lesser Brood. Difficult. Unruly. Much like this damnable host that kept fighting her new existence. *** Rahne stayed on the Brood's trail, faithful, dedicated. She was not going to give up. She would fight, she would win. She would... trip and stumble upon a bloated, fur-covered corpse. It had come out of nowhere, practically materializing before her. She tripped, her forelegs slamming into the cold, unyielding body and sending her crashing onto the ground. She struggled to get back up, legs shaky. She didn't want to believe what her heart knew was right there in front of her. The body... it was Jack's. He lay on his back, stomach mostly gone, eaten away. Flesh on his face chewed off in bits to reveal red, blood-stained skull underneath. "No..." she whispered as she stumbled backward, until her hind-end hit something dangling from the tree behind her. She spun around. A boot. Danielle Moonstar hung from the limbs of the tree, her left leg messily severed, neck bent at an unnatural angle from being snapped. All around her, dead bodies of those she loved and respected. Scott Summers's head on a pike, visor shattered and revealing dead, glazed eyes underneath. Hank McCoy's blue pelt strewn about some rocks, no sign of the rest of him in sight. A headless corpse that she knew by scent to belong to Jean Grey-Summers. Amara Aquila. Sam Guthrie. Logan. Kitty Pryde. They were everywhere, all around her, and very, very, very dead. "No no no..." she repeated, stammering in shock and horror. "Yes," her own voice called out to her from the darkness. "This is the path ye're leadin' yuirself down. Ye keep resistinn' like this, an' everything ye love will die. An' it'll all be yuir fault." |
![]() [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 | Jul 14 2012, 04:17 AM Post #2 |
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Unregistered
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The creature that was once Kevin Ford thought very little of the host as something to be wished for. He did not hold the same struggles as the other two leaders seemed to tug with. Whatever was left of his host was being used by the broodling, manipulated to work with him. He had been noticing the others however, were not as strong. Even the Queen had said so about them. Their loyalty was in question by more than just this particular broodling. So what were they doing? They were on the hunt. Collecting food in a pod of their bretheren was just one small task in the scheme they were working on. They needed more than just nourishment to move forward. They needed bodies, people turned to their cause, ready in time for the upcoming war on the humans and skrulls. "MOVE!" The broodling snarled at the masses around them, providing them the guidance that only one appointed by their Queen, their Empress, could give. They were supposed to be leaders, examples for the hoarde but only if they could be trusted to do so. Test her. That was his duty. Find out if she was loyal.... no. Make sure she was loyal. Moving up beside her he knew that it was time to begin. "Now it is time to carry out the Emperess' wishes. We must find those to make into broodling. More for the cause, more family for us. More strength." Pausing for a moment he turned and looked to the female broodling that was Rahne Sinclair. "To goade those stronger to us we will need to start with those that can manipulate them. The children. Those with the mutants." He watched her features carefully for a reaction. "Your host is more familiar with their patterns. Use her knowledge to find the younglings and we will convert them first." "There is no issue, is there? One like our Emperess found before with you?" |
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| Wolfsbane | Jul 14 2012, 04:54 AM Post #3 |
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The Broodling looked towards its brother/sister and narrowed its golden lupine eyes as he spoke. The smugness of him. She could feel it radiating from every pore in his exoskeleton. He thought because he did not struggle with his host so that that somehow made him better. That because his host was a weak-willed child, that he had some superiority over her. "They've changed the patterns for the children. All that muh host knows of them is moot. They're nae stupid. But it matters not. Once her majesty calls for them, they'll answer just as we did," the Broodling skittered off of the hadrosaur's body, sniffing at it cautiously. Yes. It was dead. She raised her head upward and clicked her jaws loudly. Heavy, swooping flaps of leathery wings soon became audible in the distance, and before long one of the large winged reptiles that the Queen had converted swooped down to claim the prey, and flew off with it in its massive claws, heading back to the Queen to deliver her meal to her. "Besides. Going after the children now would be suicide. The X-Men will have 'em well guarded, and as of now, we are nae prepared to go up against all of 'em, we two and a swarm of the lesser Brood? Cyclops alone would kill the lot of us, much less his wife or the boy from the future," she shook her head. And there it came. That nagging question. "Yes, the issue remains. Unlike you, muh host's no mewling babe. No weak-willed child who'd sooner curl up into a ball an' die than fight. So aye, I may be strugglin' with a willful host, but muh victory will make all the stronger for it. You... ye dare act like ye're better'n me 'cause ye dominated what wished to be dominated? Dinnae ye make me laugh." *** "This... this is just a trick, ye're playin' with muh mind..." Rahne gasped, literally surrounded by the corpses of the people she cared for more than anyone else. Her best friend, the people she'd looked up to and respected since she was a child, her fiance... it was horrible. It was overwhelmingly horrible, and for once, Rahne found herself at a loss. "Trick? Ha! No. This is a promise. Do ye really wish to be responsible for their deaths? Would ye nae sacrifice yuirself to save them? This is yuir choice. Surrender t' me, surrender t' her majesty's will - an' all that ye love will be spared. Keep fighting, an' they're as good as dead." "Ye're lying," Rahne snarled, the fur on the back of her neck raising in anger. "Oh, am I? Ye're chosen, Sinclair. That means The Queen found ye of the most worthy. Do ye really think she'd nae be willing to throw those others away in order t' keep ye? She loves you." "No. She wants to use me. She loves naught but herself. I've felt that much. She cares not a whit f'r you, f'r me, f''r anything but her own fat, ugly, bloated arse!" "Oh... you... are... infuriating! Damn yuir eyes!" |
![]() [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 | Jul 14 2012, 07:38 AM Post #4 |
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Unregistered
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He watched, pleased, as the flying brood mook flew their victorious kill to their Empress for her to feast. If any needed the food, the sustinance, it was she who gave so much to them. Gifted them. His sister broodling stared to spatter on about the change in patterns for the children and how it would be foolish to go after them now. The boy from the future was indeed a problem, but he wasn’t concerned with actually mounting an attack against the creatures right this second. Perhaps, if there was time, they might scout the place but his intention was this. To gauge her reaction to what it is that he was saying, though it seemed that threatening to change the children was not enough force to levy something from her. “You are right about that. Though perhaps when we mount our attack it would be best to kill the younglings. I doubt their fragile frames could support the change as it were. At least the youngest of them. I’m sure there are a few yet that would prove worthy enough for our Emperess.” The female turned to attacking his host, pointing out his youth and making a stabbing attempt at him being weak willed and pathetic. Clearly she was being defensive, trying to play off her zealous host as some normal reaction. “I will not deny that I was able to persuade a good deal of my Hosts objections through the Brood reasoning, however you cannot state that just because I can handle him that he is weak willed. His memory of the Queens host as well as the other males are not quiet in nature yet they are not having issues.” A wicked grin spread over his features. “The Emperess made a request. She wished that her favorite of the broodlings head out on this mission. Aside from retrieve food, she requested that her favorite test the loyalty of the female. She has love for you still, Broodling sister, but she fears that you may be waning and is saddened by this. There is so much potential in you, Sister, but this one simply needs to check that you are still what you claim to be.” |
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| Wolfsbane | Jul 14 2012, 04:42 PM Post #5 |
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Wolf Form
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"I know what ye're tryin' t' do," the Broodling hissed in annoyance. "Ye're tryin' t' goad her to the surface. Well, it'll nae work. She's fightin', aye, but she's buried so deep she's got no concept of what's goin' on out here. Ye think she's influencing muh thoughts? Ye think I'll betray our Queen? Who was the first by her side, hmm? Aye. I was. When she called, I answered first." This line of questioning was annoying, insulting. But above all, it hurt. It hurt that her majesty had so little trust, so little faith in her own children that she'd set them against each other like this. Was the host right? Did the queen truly care only about herself? No. No. These thoughts, they were wrong. They were just desperate attempts by a willful host to reject her destiny. The Queen loved them all. The Queen wished to see them at their rightful place at the top of the food chain of the entire cosmos. "As of right now, I am wearin' her down. Breakin' her will piece by piece. An' when it is all said an' done and I am victorious... I will be stronger than ever. And then we shall see who is the Queen's favorite - ye sniveling wee brat." *** "Well, then? Show yuirself! If I'm so bloody infuriating, come on out an' face me! Or are you afraid? Ye know I'm bloody well better than you so ye resort to trickery an' illusions! Come on!" Rahne called out, pushing for a more direct confrontation. She didn't want to admit it, but this last display... it was upsetting. It was getting to her. She could smell the death and horror, she could smell the blood of her friends and loved ones staining the whole of the woods around her, making the ground slick and slippery beneath her feet. Was this what she had to look forward to? A life of being surrounded by the death of everything she loved? "No," came the answer, her own voice cruelly mocking her. The promise of a bleak and horrible future echoed through every echo of the voice. "No? Ye cannae defeat me by hidin' away!" Rahne called out. "Ye wish to do battle with me so badly? Come an' find me. Wade through the corpses of everything ye hold dear an' take yuir vengeance. Come. I'm waiting." |
![]() [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 | Jul 16 2012, 06:24 AM Post #6 |
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Unregistered
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"What better way to test you than to try and coax the vixin into showing face. She's fighting and perhaps she's persuading you to doubt. " The creature paced and watched the female carefully watching her. The broodling kind of wished that the human would show face. The female was showing herself to be nothing more than a drull soldier barely competent at anything but what her host was already skilled at. Mix that in with disobedience and it spelled nothing but hassle and trouble for their Queen. What right had she to wish for her life when she put the Emperess at such risk? "Such fury bubbling in you, Sister. I believe that at the moment you are in control, which will please the Emperess. She does still love you though I must say you are in luck that I am in such control of my host. All it would take is one word from me to turn her against you. Perhaps she would kill you, or have you kill yourself. She could disconnect you from the rest if she so wished. Separated from the family, in pain and alone." Raising its head, the broodling sent a series of clicking noises to the drones around them, searching once again for food or sightings of easy pickings amongst the mutants. It was unlikely that they would venture out, but not impossible. An emotional breed that group was, indeed. There could be any number of vengeful mutants stalking about. "And when you're dead, I shall remain the favorite." |
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| Marrow | Jul 16 2012, 06:36 AM Post #7 |
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Unregistered
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A clap. Another. The sound of hard plat slapping against hard plate began to echo amidst the roiling swarms as the lesser Brood began to part, sealing the sea of evolutionary perfection once more in her wake. She stepped through, much larger than most, smaller than some of the converted saurids amongst their blessed herd. But imposing all the same, those blade-like shafts of chitinous bone at her back splayed wide and arched upwards, ready to strike, threatening to strike. "That you both vie so much for our approval is pleasing to me. But know that you cannot hide your thoughts or words from me. I am your Empress. You are my hands. Such is existence. You will love it or you will die for the transgressions of your own weak-born doubt." She rubbed a hand along the crest of some vague dinosaur, contorted and twisted into a work of art. "Sister. Your host bucks against you more so than those of her mate and her student. Your excuse is that she is strong willed. This makes you weak. The Brood does not abide weakness. I trust you will rectify this before the day is out. Else I will purge this weakness from our ilk lest it infect those around you." Perhaps she had made a tactical miscalculation in choosing Rahne Sinclaire, who, in the days since her own inception had proven to be a holistically passionate creature amongst her peers. Fiery and rough-hewn in comparison to the smoothly carved and easily dominated ideals and desires of others who cowered within Utopia's hallowed halls. Perhaps she had lain to rest too much reliance on the woman's connection with her own host, who even now was forced through a series of unlifes, kept in check by a false existence that existed as a split between her own conscious thought and her fantasies. It was a beautiful torture, watching the woman strike down her happiness in an attempt to gain foothold, the simple mind painfully unaware that it was all distraction, and all fruitless. In a matter of days, the consciousness that had been Sarah Rushman, or Elise Knuckey, or Marrow, whichever title it truly desired to be called, would be wiped completely from existence, he memories an echoes within the hivemind of The Brood. Sanctified and cataloged for posterity. |
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| Wolfsbane | Jul 16 2012, 07:04 AM Post #8 |
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"No, she's fighting an' annoying the ever-livin' piss outta me, just like you are," the Broodling growled, wholly tired of this line of interrogation. "An' please, get the bloody hell over yuirself. Ye forget that muh host was an authority figure while yuirs a student. She knew of him well enough. Lonely, outcast, set up a physical barrier 'tween himself an' everyone around him on account of his mutation. Desperate to belong but terrified to. Weak. Miserable. Pathetic. Ye're pattin' yuirself on the back for dominating a host who'd be dominated by a stiff bloody breeze an' ye dare sit in judgement of me 'cause I have to work to achieve our Queen's goals?" The Broodling was seething, membranous wings vibrating, bladed abdomen tensing and making its frustrations plainly visible. "These humans have a saying. That nothin' worthwhile was ever easy. So what's it say about you, that ye face no difficulties in-" She stopped short. The Queen. She fell silent, quietly enraged that all her efforts were not pleasing. She fought hard to subdue the host. She fought so hard. She tried to wear the host down. It didn't work. She tried to out fight her, she was defeated. She tried to shatter her emotion with cruel images of senseless horror and violence. The host was undeterred. She wanted to blame the Queen. Because surely, any fault in herself must have been inherent fault in the Queen, right? It was the Queen's fault that she was ill-prepared to defeat this creature. "I am in the process of dismantling her resistance as we speak, muh queen. She'll be done soon," she answered quietly before she splayed her wings out and took off into the air. She could not be here. Not now. Not in front of the sniveling little male, not in front of the Queen who hated her despite her best efforts, despite her need to please. She could not stand it. She could not understand it. Why had the Queen who apparently loved her so so ill-prepared her for life? Was she born just to fail? She loved the Queen with all of her capacity. Why was she hated for it? *** Rahne was determined. She would not let this stop her. She could not. She stepped past the stinking, rotting corpse of Kurt Wagner, indigo blue fur matted with enough blood to look black and patchy, bits of pink flesh showing underneath. Stepped past a tattered, torn, blood-soaked cape that flapped in a breeze that was no longer under Ororo Munroe's control. Padded her way around the dismembered and disemboweled bodies of several Jamie Madroxes and Guido Carosella, organs and innards so thoroughly tossed around and strewn about that it was impossible to tell what had belonged to whom. And then... an opening. The huddled form of her insectile quarry, hunched low and undulating over a body that lay on the ground. A pale white hand lay outstretched, a leg clad in yellow leggings and white boots lay in the other direction. The scent was unmistakable. Moira McTaggert. "You... sick, perverted monster! Get away from her!" Rahne snarled, and charged. To her surprise, the monster looked back, the epitome of sadness etched into its face. If the thing was capable of crying, it would be. "Why? Why does she hate me so?" it asked, and the question startled Rahne into stopping. She glanced down to Moira's corpse. Unspoiled. Dead, but pure. The creature wasn't eating her remains? It was... crying over them? "I... I dinnae understand..." Rahne was confused. After all of this, after everything, the monster wanted a heart-to-heart? "Was I not a good daughter? Did I not... did I not answer her call? Did I not perform muh duties well? Provide sustenance for her when she was hungry? Cleanliness when she was dirtied? I was a good daughter... I love muh queen an' because I cannae defeat you, she hates me..." Rahne sat down on her lupine haunches and tilted her head. "So what... ye wish me to just roll over an' die 'cause ye squeeze out some crocodile tears? Ye're a cruel and vicious invader. Ye've taken my body from me..." "I did nae choose it! I did nae choose what I am! Ye're upset 'cause I'm takin' yuir life away... but what about me? Does muh life nae matter?" Rahne had to think on this. Did it? Did this creature have the right to an existence? Was it wrong to try to take her own life back from it? "No," she answered. "No it does not. Ye're a parasite. Everything you are is either stolen from me or forced into me by yuir monster queen. An' I dinnae care that my fighting has caused ye to fall from favor. 'Tis my life an' I want it back." "Then take it if ye can," the monster answered. "I'm done fightin' ye. I can't. Muh queen hates me. I have no more purpose. An' ye'll never be yuirself again. There is no reversing this change. So we both lose." {EXIT} |
![]() [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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2:24 PM Jul 11