| Welcome to Xmen Revolution. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Honest in Your Failings; [One Shot] | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Jul 18 2012, 06:39 AM (225 Views) | |
| Marrow | Jul 18 2012, 06:39 AM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
The Brood Mindscape During the March to Utopia The Queen sat in her throne, maintaining watchful eye over her kindom. All save for that quiet shack at the base of the hill. In there stood that last bastion of hope, that little irretrievable bit of sentience that this host had managed to keep from her grasp. That pockmark on this astral horizon was the only thing keeping her from full and total domination of this creature whose husk she now inhabited. This Elise Knuckey. This Sarah Rushman. This “Marrow.” For time immeasurable, at least within the confines of this mental space, she had systematically watched this young consciousness tear apart all that she held dear. Hopes, dreams, morals, raw aspects of her personality made flesh in her mind’s eye. She relished the shiver of psychic pain that shuddered through her lines of thoughts each time the girl was forced to sever a bit from herself, becoming less and less each time, rising each time, falling each time. Feeding her own control over the woman. There was very little of her left now, even mentally speaking. Of course, they shared a brain, but the Queen’s stake in that organ was quickly overshadowing her hosts. Of the physical shape there stood only the frame. Some musculature, adapted and streamlined with Brood perfections, her skeleton, warped and widened and lengthened, even moreso thanks to the woman’s “mutant” powers, provided support for the Brood’s sturdy chitinous carapace. Beyond that though, Marrow was dead in all but mind. And soon that detail would be tended to. She had sent a pod out to deal with the radical Sinclair puppet. She had been malformed, a wink link to be purged from the chain of the overmind. She would be killed, consumed, and in that she would serve better. If she survived, then her worth would be proven. But that was not the matter, not now. The Queen sat in her astral kindom, the minds of the horde swarming about her crested mountain, waiting for the girl to show herself. This would be the final time, no doubt. The last straw. The kick to break the spine of her heart and her spirit. And then she would be gone, nothing but genetic memory in the annals of Brood history, to be remembered by all and thought of by none. And then, there she was, peaking her head out. Even here, the Queen could see the change in her. No longer the healthy young girl resolved to win out in a battle of psychic prowess. With each turn of the screw she withered, her flesh mottled, her eyes took on the glow of something no longer human. Another slave mind ready to be carried off into the overmind. That she could even fight this far up the hill would be a testament to her fortitude. But once she arrived at this crest, there was only doom. Cruel salvation. The queen stood from her throne as the purple, emaciated creature slogged through Broodling mind after Broodling mind, blood painting the air with its black viscous humour and screeches erupting in a cacophony of pain from both parties. There was a difference in the two sides however; hers was eternal, Marrow’s was temporary. And after a sunrise of battle and a sunset of blood, the dawn of the following day saw a red film over the wrecked landscape. And at the ridge the little girl appeared. The Queen’s hands began to move in applause. “Congratulations, my little friend. You’ve once more reached your doom. And again here you will die, but after this there will be nothing. You’ve done my work for me, see. Whittled yourself away to nothing. Marrow staggered forward, dragging a blood smeared cleaver of bone behind her, tired, wounded. Her eyes scanned the openness of the hilltop, and she settled them on the Queen wordlessly. “Look at you. Too weak even to speak now. Your body, even this false one you’ve whittled from your mind, sings praises to my species. You’re no longer you but a version of you born of my own being. I’ve won. Lay down and have your rest.” The girl looked on, kept taking those uneven forward steps. “So you still have fight in you. Good.” She said, standing. “I should have despised for your closing act to be so easily sealed. In an instant, the Queen’s shape was upon her, slamming her against the ground, beating her against the rocks, slashing her with claw and gouging her with tail and talon. And as always happened, she pressed her foot to the girl’s neck, ready to plunge that spiked tail deep into her breast. To pull out that last piece and see this war of minds over with forever. The tail lashed forward, but it did not find purchase. It found its victim’s hand, wrapped tightly around it, holding it at bay. The Queen’s eyes widened, first in startled shock and then in furious rage. She wrenched her tail away, picking the girl up, digging claw into wound and squeezing. “If you wish your death to be drawn out you needed only ask.” “I don’t ask permission in my own head.” Marrow said. “But you did teach me something valuable in all this.” “Oh?” Asked the Queen. “And what pray tell is that?” Her tail arched back, ready to cut this battle to its end. “If you can’t beat them, join them.” She said, hauling back and spitting a wad of burning acid into the Queen’s face. Marrow felt herself fall to the ground, and as the Queen’s astral shape staggered backwards, wailing at the burning in her eyes, in her mouth, Marrow’s shape changed, bending her minds image of herself into something wholly alien, humanity gone. And with a piercing roar, she lunged for the Queen’s throat. |
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Skrull Plot Archives · Next Topic » |





2:24 PM Jul 11