Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
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:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
The Sins of Men and Angels; [Utopia]
Topic Started: Jul 18 2012, 07:46 AM (3,083 Views)
Marrow
Unregistered

May 24th
Late Morning
JP: Brood Queen and Rachel Summers



The Horde was relentless as it pressed through the jungle. All manner of creatures, fallen into its fold. Those who could not be converted were consumed or killed. Carrion for the meekest of beasts. The Horde had grown, and its number were all manner of creatures. Primal cats, hounds, dinosaurs. But as it thundered forward, its true size was concealed, hidden from view. The long necked saurians lumbered forward, hiding horrors in their insides. Flocks of flying creatures created a blackened cloud on the horizon. They made no qualms of masking their arrival. Burrowing creatures would serve as ambush enough, to be revealed at the proper time.

The Queen sat atop the back of some lumbering beast, her mind split between commanding her hordes and the battle within.

As they approached the grounds, the wall of petrified wood loomed ahead. Beyond it, she felt the strings of her children. She reached out to them, slowly beginning to pinpoint them. To caress them as a mother caressed a long-lost child. Black rotting lips curled over rows of sharp teeth. The energies of the portal were becoming apparent. Soon it would be open, and the jaws of oblivion would encircle the world, and the Brood would reign supreme on Earth, free to dispose of the heretic Skrull at their leisure.

No doubt these mutants, these “X-Men” were preparing themselves in kind. She would give them pause, oh yes.

A crack sounded throughout the grounds as the largest of the Brood began to pound at the retaining walls. Not long now.

She felt the women inside who had hurt her, the Grey woman and her daughter. The Red-Eyed Guardian was to be captured alive, as were the Skrulls. All else were left to the discretion of her marauding children.

---

Rachel Summers had felt it all morning, she was sure her mother had too. She clutched her head now, though, newly clawed fingers raking through her red hair. So close, the worms in her mind were screeching, the residue from the Queen’s psychic backlash erupting in a vile choir in her mind. She sent a beacon of words out to the whole of Utopia.

::They’re coming. They’re nearly here!::

---

Another crack sounded as the stone wall began to buckle beneath the weight of the incoming force. It was here that she reached out, here that she ran her claws along those connecting strings of thought. Her children began to sing out to her. The wall began to crumble, and as she delivered a blow to her host, she smiled, casting a hand forward along with the mental order to bring down the wall.

The horde leveled their strength against it, crumbling it downwards with a cacophonous roar. And as they began to spill through the gaps made, she sent out a beacon to her children, a call to uplift, to bring them into the fold. The screams of pain would herald the early end of resistance. But those screams never came. Her face twisted into a scowl.

“What.”

---

Rachel felt the wave of will descend upon her, calling the spores in her blood, in her muscles and nerves to tense and pour out their transformative venom. She staggered, fell to a knee. She felt the change begin, but where she should have felt the slimy influence of The Brood Imperiatrix, she felt the cold and impartial notions of artificial awareness. Of Danger. She felt her skeleton twist, her muscles tense and change. Rachel fought it though, tried to suppress it, to force it back down, but it pushed back against her. Her powers began to fade, the connection to the minds around her becoming, fuzzy, static. Before that half-breed form overtook her, she broadcasted a message while she still could.

::The net is working. The Queen doesn’t have control! We have to fight ba-::

And then a last wracking push of transformation cut her off from her psychic acuity.

---

The Queen held back, watching the creatures bound over the wall towards the temple. She could not feel her children, even as they rose from seedling form. It filled her with fury and anger. The mind witches had robbed her of her children, spirited their loyalties away to some other force.

An imperative went out. ::Kill everything.::



OOC NOTE:
The Queen has called for the transformation of all infected/non immune carriers of the Brood plague. While you may initially resist this call, you will ultimately fall, when this happens, you will lose your powers, and they will be replaced by Brood traits: Superstrength, Natural armor, claws, fangs, insectoid wings, and stinging tails.

This is the Alamo. Fight for your existence.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Rusty Collins
Unregistered

Through sheer force of will Rusty had been trying to hold back the inevitable. There had been assurance that the infection in their bodies would not steal their wills, but the thought that he was turning into one of those things was mortifying. But he knew he had been fighting a battle that was already lost, and somehow there was still no known cure for what was happening to them all.

When he started getting sick he knew it was the beginning. It began that same night that he’d spent paying tribute to Doreen’s fallen friend. Fever had set in, and in the midst of his emotional confusion he hadn’t recognized it for what it was.

But then the spots appeared. He saw them in the mirror and knew what they represented. But somehow even then he remained in denial. There was still hope. Either Hank was going to find the cure or…well he had to. But by the morning of the 24th Rusty was done kidding himself. And when he felt her calling out to him he hardly needed Rachel’s warning.

“Noo,” he said with one last-ditch effort to fight off the final transformation. And he discovered to his dismay that his will was nowhere near as strong as the Queen’s. She reached out to him in summons and gritting his teeth he fell back against a table, rolling off onto the floor as his body went through very quick and painful renovations. Curled up in a ball on the floor he burst into flame and just as quickly the flames were gone for good as he was cut off from his powers.


::The net is working. The Queen doesn’t have control! We have to fight ba-::

It was some relief, knowing that the battle for his free will had been won. Rusty opened his mouth and let out a cry that sounded alien to his ears, but felt right. Balling up a chitinous fist, he pounded it against the floor and stood up with twitching wings. Strong hands grabbed the table in front of him and flipped it over.

Rachel had one thing right. Rusty had no intention of letting this go without a fight.

Slamming his tail against the wall he cried out again and charged out to defend his home.

=========================================================

OOC: Table flipping dedication goes out to Dean. Stay classy.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Synch (old)
Member Avatar
Ability Synchronization
She was coming for them with an army of twisted bodies at her control. They pounded on the walls determined to get inside. At the moment however, there was something else going on. Everett dropped to the ground clutching his abdomen. The pain of the transformation was intense enough to keep the man from thinking straight. The brood queen had tried to force her influence over his mind and the others, but it did not work thanks to the smarts of their leader. Even though his body was no longer his, at list his will was. Everett cringed and hollered out as his ribs expanded, muscles tore away as bones twisted and turned at impossible angles. The chocolate colored skin seemed to melt away as a thick, grayish-brown shell took over. His eyes went wider than humanly possible and glazed over. His head expanded and in the back formed a sort of crest. He heard Rachel’s call, but it was faint.

Everett had no intention to let his will be dominated by a giant talking bug. When the transformation was finally complete, he stood erect gazing at his new form and unleashed a high pitched roar. His powers were of no use now. The man had no access to them. This fight would have to be won the old fashioned way. As the creatures finally broke through, Everett rushed out to meet them head on. This was not a fight to defeat a crazed mutant hellbent on destroying humans. This wasn’t a fight to defend their new home. This was a fight for survival, for the mind and body. If they lost, nothing would remain. He was not about to lose to these things. With every ounce of his being, Everett was going to come out on top. The mutant leaped through the air and came down on top of what used to be some kind of jungle cat. He rammed the bone spikes of his elbow straight through its armor and then its spine. The animal wailed out and got silenced when he flung it across the land.

Rows of jagged, razor sharp teeth met the neck of another enslaved creature. His head thrashed around until he heard a satisfying crunch. As three more opponents rushed at him, Everett used the lifeless body in his hands as a club on the monsters. Not today not ever. The queen would never have him.
[align=center]Posted Image[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Derek Addams
Unregistered

It was a bad day. Derek could feel it when he woke up. The sickness that had been wracking his body had made it damn near impossible for him to pull himself out of bed, or rather, out of cot. He'd been sleeping in storage since he and Kel had their fight. And even though they'd been talking, things were still too tense between them to share the same room again.

And now, he could feel what must have been the worst fever he'd had in his life tearing through him. He was shivering, but felt like he was breathing fire. He sat there for at least an hour in the dark, feet on the floor and head on his knees, before he braved standing up. He needed to get to the med lab. But first, a stop by the bathroom.

He looked even worse than he felt, eyes almost completely yellow, his skin, especially around the bruised areas, bearing a scaly appearance. "Jesus..." he mumbled as he turned to continue what seemed to him an impossible journey at this point. He kept telling himself that Doc was close to finding a cure. It was the one thing he had left to cling to now.

But, as he slowly stumbled down the hallway, a new wave of vertigo hit him, sending him into the wall. It was different from the ones he'd gotten earlier... stronger... and somehow... more soothing.

::They're coming. They're nearly here.::

Rachel's voice rang out across his mind and he put two and two together. This was it... time was up. "Oh... shi-" He was cut off by the surge of pain that sent his hands to his head and the rest of him to the floor as he made a sound between a whimper and a gag. He gurgled and twitched as the change came over him, the pain pushing every last bit of conscious thought away as his arms and fingers began to stretch and twist. new rows of teeth tore into his mouth, a feeling like chewing on broken glass as he felt his jaw pop and extend. His back began to jerk and pull him before wings sprouted and filled the air in the hall with buzzing.

And then... it was finished. His yellow eyes popped open and stared at his new clawed limbs. For a moment, he was silent and still, maybe in a bit of shock, however a few things were crystal clear to him. The plan had worked, and he felt one million times better.

He could feel them. They were gathering outside even now, and the battle was being joined. A familiar, yet now twisted smile formed over the mouth of the broodling as it launched itself down the hall, twisting and maneuvering with and ease born of instinct, and an eagerness that was as familiar to him as his first mutation. He flew out of the temple shrieking a war cry and into the fray.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Cyclops
Member Avatar
Punches from the Punch Dimension
He'd been feeling it since before the sun rose, and Scott Summers, who was now linked via Danger to the whole of his people, had opened the firewalls that shielded him from their thoughts. Not to pry, not to extend his own consciousness into theirs, but so they could find strength in his presence, in his confidence, so that he could know who was the most frightened and to reach out to grab their hands. Danger whispered her readings and her statistics in his head, and he knew with suddenness that the wormhole reconfiguration was complete. Danger was connected to those systems, and so Scott was connected to them as well. In the darkness of the room he shared with his wife, as she slept, or maybe tried to sleep beside him, he sat up in bed, stirring her from where she habitually slept with her head on his bare chest, red locks spread beneath his chin. "The portals are opening," he said, and if his sleep visor was not securely locked in place, anyone looking might have seen the lines of code sliding over his eyes... maybe they wouldn't, but Scott imagined it like that.

The portals were opening, and they were still infected, Hank working feverishly over the cure. If he did not have it by the time that the wormholes were opened, then Danger had her orders. There was no choice here. This infection would not spread into the world. Scott would not be responsible for ending the human race. Danger knew what to do. He could feel her calculating the ratios, and through the neural net, he told her that she had the directive. Eradication procedures initialized. Waiting launch code.

If Scott slept, he didn't know it. Keeping his mind open, he may have slipped into other dreams, or maybe he was transformed into binary sequences in Danger's mind, he didn't know. He was running, that much he knew, jogging on his normal morning run, when his daughter's call sounded in his mind. The abrupt cut off, followed by waves of almost overwhelming fear and pain from the neural net, told him more than any words ever could. Sudden stabbing, aching, twisting, wrenching nearly drove him to his knees on the dirt path he had worn over the months of being here. For a moment, a split second really, he was fifteen years old again, holding onto his head in the middle of a street in Nebraska, certain that his skull was splitting open, the scarlet of his emerging powers tinting the world blood red.

Scott planted his feet, as the transformation took him, and because he was who he was, there were no desperate "I love you"s sent to his wife, his daughter. There was no plea to a God that he didn't believe in that he would weather this intact and remain Scott Christopher Summers. He believed in the plan they had implemented, and even as his skin stretched and cracked into a carapace, and the world took on that peculiar green tint that came when the red of his abilities vanished. Hands stretched into long claws, feet burst through tennis shoes to echo the claws. The planes of his face altered, and his sunglasses fell to the ground, but it didn't matter, because the pounding of his powers against his eyelids was nothing but a memory.

His head snapped towards the sound of his home invaded by the enemy, turning on his neck a degree or two more than it should, and his new eyes saw the danger in new ways. He turned, and still in mid-transformation, he began to run into the battle. When the wings burst from his back, he didn't know, their use just sudden instinct, and now, as he took his long earned place at the head of his own swarm, he had been changed, like them all, into something more wasp than man. But his mind was his, and he implemented his own will over his appearance. He could not bring himself back to who he was, but dark color overtook his form, shading his segmented arms and legs, elongated torso, in deep black, ebon armor with brilliant highlights of yellow in strategic patterns. Across his chest, almost like a target, but more like a warning, an X stretched into place. Whatever he was now, whatever he had been made into, it could not, would not override what he had been made into long before.

An X-Man.

Through the neural net, through the links that had been made, through the sheer will of a man with the responsibility of protecting the world, Cyclops called out, "X-Men! On me!"

Then, his changed, insectile eyes locked on the enemy, and he opened a mouth filled with double rows of fanged teeth, and he issued the last order he would verbally give, the rest of the communication sequenced through Danger's net. He looked for the Brood Queen, and, the knowledge that failure may very well bring the world to an end, he arched his wings and shot towards the enemy horde, one word echoing in his wake.

"SWARM!"
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Freakshow
Unregistered

The plague was spreading, the affliction of scales, chitinous armor, and mandibles plucking those he lived with one by one. They began to change around him, struggling against the disease that was both physical and mental. He knew the signs. He knew what it felt like most of all. It was a sick, painful alterations, the very structure of your bones morphing and adapting to this insectoid creatures. Nerves would burn as their cells were transformed, the body becoming an abominable hybrid of two species. It was a disease unlike any other.

But it could be cured.

Of the few now immune to the disease, for whatever reasons that his mutation provided, Kevin was more than prepared to do all that was within his power to stave the forces of the Brood. The answer to this problem was about as easy as simple addition. All it required of him was to do what he did best.

Maul.

He could hear the cries of the Brood forces screeching and beating at the preliminary walls. It was a horde, unending and driven by a single purpose to claim and recycle and grow the Brood. He could still taste them, the feeling of the creatures stuck between the teeth of his monstrous form days ago, still twitching. It was a strange feeling for anything in one of his mouths to be left alive. Now they were coming back to claim what they thought was theirs. The Brood would be all and all would be Brood.

Even as his normal self, a growl rose in his throat. Everyone was succumbing to the transformations, but the new hivemind that Phoenix and that other red-haired girl was preventing them all from joining the Brood. At least they had that to their benefit. If they were claimed by the Brood Queen's will... they might have turned into something like he had.

An orange color glazed over his eyes as soon as his clawed foot found the grass. Yellow-green tendrils of energy whipped up around him in a fog, becoming larger. Out of the mist stepped his most basic form, the large, horse-sized creature. Its heavy jaws snapped shut, crooked and exaggerated teeth barely fitting together as a low growl reverberated in its gullet. The Genoshan freak's claws dug into the ground, more than comfortable in its hideousness.

::Yeh lot are uglier than I am.:: Kevin observed with grim amusement to those still twisting into their new skins.

Nostrils flared, inhaling these thousand scents. The anticipation made the monster twitched, breathing increase, senses full of a gleeful fervor. That part of Kevin that was inhuman could hardly wait. It wanted to hear the screams and let lose its fury, the unending hunger seeking to be sated. As the first Brood crested their defenses, the slitted pupil in both eyes flexed to near invisible thiness. The monster drew in a breath and released it in a deafening roar as its prey surged into view.

Somewhere, something answered the call, the very trees shaking to their roots in the forest around the temple from its booming voice.

The Genoshan's claws cleaved at the ground, kicking up mounds of dirt with each step. The monster could hardly pick which it would sink its teeth in first. A clawed foot crashed onto a smaller Broodling, crushing and tearing it both. Small game was not on the monster's mind. Bigger than the rest, he knew what was destined to be caught between his teeth.

A twisting, tendril-covered hadrosaurus showed itself among the masses. Instincts turned the monster toward it. Trampling through the horde, the monster vaulted the last few meters. Jaws opened and claws spread, predator ambition sinking its teeth into the saurian brood's neck. Claws dug in deep, even the secondary set of limbs that curved into the monster's breastbone raked at the skin. The sounds of tearing and ripping flesh filled the Genoshan's mouth. The force of the attack knocked the dinosaur on its size, tendrils wrapping around the monster's head as it struggled to push it off.

They might have done it, but Kevin had not had breakfast that day.

And he was very hungry.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Rho
Member Avatar
Density Manipulation, Flight
Xel'lirks and Cyclops, two leaders of two very different people; had reached an accord. Provision of any and all knowledge the Skrulls possessed on the Brood threat, and their guarantee to fight in what would surely be the final battle for one side. He and his brethren didn't need anything from the human side because survival was enough, and with no Brood, plus a very tired and weakened X Presence, the takeover would go that much smoother. No, they didn't need anything at all. He'd gotten little sleep; he was far too on edge for it to appeal to him or even be possible. So he found a perch like the mutant he was impersonating liked to do; he sat cross legged on the tallest spire of the temple and watched. He watched what had once been the home of the Nuwali; this place of savage grace and primal beauty...he silently longed for it to be home once again.

So day passed to night, night passed to dawn, and finally the morning came. He was still on his perch, practicing a battle meditation technique taught to warriors to strengthen their resolve and steel their will for an upcoming battle...and this would be the most important battle he'd ever fought in. More important even than the one he'd participated in to not only preserve his life, but to secure his place on this mission. This was a fight for everything. His life, the lives of his comrades, even the humans...if they failed here, the Brood would take the world. His people would die and be forced back to Skrullos. The mission depended on him now more than ever; they had to succeed. He could see the trees being forced aside in the distance; the Brood were closing and would soon snap their jaws shut around them...they'd be in for a helluva fight though. His mind was open and received the mental warning from the Summers Daughter before she succumbed to the change.

They'd been informed of the ingenuitive use of the AI left behind by his ancestors to let them overcome the mental re-purposing by the Brood even as their bodies changed. So he knew not to attack the X-Men turned into those horrible bugs, but the temptation was still there. As the call rang out, he stood and looked down at his allies. The change was spreading rapidly through all of them. Derek, Synch...even Cyclops could not stop the transmogrification. His own people were in position and ready to fight, as was he. And after the X-Men charged their greatest enemy to date; the greatest threat to life as any of them knew it, so did he. He'd gotten a few large rocks the night before and set them up, and after dropping to the ground, he started throwing them like giant projectiles from a catapult into the masses of the creatures. Accuracy didn't matter, as they were more for breaking up the massive horde. When he'd thrown his last one, his golden eyes gleamed with a blood lust that he thought he'd conquered a long time ago; apparently he hadn't, and he embraced it.

"FOR SKRULLOS!!!" Xel'lirk's arms morphed into deadly sharp blades, as he blasted forward with such force that he shattered the stone he'd been standing upon; he was the fastest thing in this jungle, and the keenness of his blades bolstered by the speed and strength taken from Rho turned him into a whirling dervish of death. Pieces from Brood creatures were cleanly severed as he flew past, while others were impaled, disemboweled and bisected when he took the time to let his feet touch the ground. As some sort of raptor creature snapped at him, only furthering to push his blade deeper through it's back, he looked at one of the few humans immune to the plague. Freakshow. He smiled and sliced upward, causing the creature to fall nearly in twain.

The human had the right idea; the big creatures were the true threats. A large Rex was roaring and bearing down on them; it would die by his hand. Melding his hands together into one large blade, Xel'lirks shot off like a rocket towards the monster, spinning like a giant drill; the noise coming from flesh meeting cold steel was sickening, but Xel smiled as he carved in through the creature and out the other side. It staggered, but did not fall even with the gaping holes in it's body; he'd have to try again. Landing on it's head, he gouged it's eyes out, then focused; he began increasing the density of the creature to fatal levels. Exoskeleton began to crack, bones snapped and fractured; organs ruptured while blood vessels popped. A loud crunch sounded over the battlefield as the creature fell and visibly collapsed in on itself, becoming nothing more than a container of mush and bone meal. "For Skrullos...For Earth."
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Anole
Unregistered

Anole lay in his bed, his fleeting sleep being the only escape from the sickness. The reptilian mutant tap-danced awfully all night across the line of sleep and wake. He wasn’t awoken gracefully, but jolted awake by a grating cough, and passed out from his pressuring exhaustion. His eyes fluttered as his consciousness hung in limbo, the only thing he was certain of in this reality was the stone wall inches from his face. His hearing had not been what it was for a week or so, everything was a muffled sound, but not indistinguishable. Not until today. Anole racked his brain for reasons why this had been happening, but with his lack of doctoral knowledge, he threw the thought away with the theory that there was fluid buildup behind his eardrums.

Victor’s breathing was irregular, like something was holding onto the air in the room after he exhaled. This was his most current concern, not even a concern, but a bother. The reptilian mutant was no longer concerned. He was concerned when he originally when he found out that the reclaimed temple he thought to be a sanctum away from a future threat had been infiltrated. He was concerned then. Now, feeling helpless, vulnerable… pathetic, he no longer held the capacity to be concerned.

A voice echoed in his head, it was clear. Rachel’s voice was clear.

Brown eyes that were vandalized by forced bloodshot were wide. The Brood were finally making their move, though the plan was started long ago. When they plagued the residents of Utopia. His body was rigid, anger was oversaturated in his veins. Victor had suffered, but more important than that, people he loved here were suffering. That weighed much more heavily than his own. He felt nothing when he thought about the foreign invaders, they did not pull any of the similar strings that the purifiers did. Instead, The Brood did not exist until recently, brought into this reality by their own inquisition. However, every Brood death would be a burden lifted. A step towards a better life.

The telepath’s voice forced its way through his thoughts again, this time with more urgency.

No control? What Victor has been fearing for several weeks now was gone. The mutant did not know what this meant for him. If his sickness progressed into worse states, he would die. Worse than that would be living with the sickness. Seconds after the telepath’s shortened message, as if miraculously, Victor’s symptoms began to fade. Though the truth of it was that this mental euphoria lasted less than five seconds, the reptilian mutant relished in the moment, and it lasted for an hour within his mind. Then his body exploded.

Frail scaled skin ripped and recast with a tougher material only to be ripped again and recast.

Certain bones within his body elongated, while others aggressively shortened.

Rows of teeth broke through with unbridled force.

There was no numbness, no escape, from the transformation. The heat from his rapidly changing cellular structure felt as though he was falling amidst flames. At one point during the transformation, Victor had spasmed out of his bed and landed on the floor just as rigid as he had been before. Time was not something he had judged accurately in the past few days as the transformation felt like an eternity. Victor remembered nothing sensory-wise after he came to. He saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing but the invisible fire. Now, he sat aggressively crouched with his back towards his bed. His head twitched back and forth scanning the room. This movement alone was more motion than his body had received in the past 10 hours. It felt good. His sickness was gone. But did the reptilian mutant lose himself with The Brood induced sickness?

Victor had heard the initial sounds of the advancing Brood at the gate just before his transformation. Knowing that the fence would not hold them off, Victor, with his new Brood body, sprinted from the room and found the nearest window. Hurdling through the window and taking flight, even though he had never flown before, Victor rose high into the sky hovering above the temple. The fight was laid out in front of him, Brood were fighting Brood reclaimed jungle creatures. It was then that Mr. Summer’s voice reached out to him, and many more Brood Utopians sunk their teeth into, some more literally than others, the battle.

Flying down with instinctive agile, Victor landed behind one of the creatures he assumed to be one of the Jungle’s dinosaur. Raking the throat of the creature that was running in an awkward, bipedal motion, the creature let out a distorted scream. Blood spilled onto Victor’s arm as he broke the neck of the creature with his newly appointed Brood Strength. Just as the body went limp in his arms, something akin to a jungle cat flew through the air sinking it’s claws into Victor’s back. In that moment was the first time Victor heard the sound of displaced vocal cords within him. The scream was almost feral in nature, but it was more communicative in nature. It was something he had never heard, but his mind was somewhere else.

The two huddled masses tumbled forward with the force the cat provided from the leap. Once the two had come to a stop, Victor was doing everything he could to shield himself from the viciously swiping claws of the once cat like creature. It was then, subconsciously wishing to defend himself, that the clawed assault slowed and eventually stopped. Victor’s pointed tail was sunk into the shoulder of the creature; with a final pulse for good measure the tail removed itself from the skin. Though it was a part of him, it moved with a direct and distinctive motion, like it was controlled by a compartmented part of his brain.

Finally standing, Victor wiped a fluid from the scrape on his face. The liquid that replaced his blood was darker and more viscous than blood. ”Just another day right?” Victor thought, his mental voice deadpan. ”You’ve got to be kidding me…” His mind raced as he saw three more, though smaller, creatures sprinting for him. Only him.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Kitty Pryde
Unregistered

It had been four days since the shit figuratively and literally hit the fan at the X-Men's Utopia base with the break out of Marrow the Brood Queen and her infecting of certain other X-Men. Four days of living completely on edge waiting for the Brood Queen to come back, Four days of waiting to see who else would fall victim to the infect, Four days of arguing the point of Parasite or bug, Chemical or telepathic, who's the real enemy the Brood or Skrulls. Four days of searching for a cure to relinquish the hold the Brood Queen had on the infected.

But even before the breakout of the Brood things had been very much on edge for Kitty and the rest of the X-Men. From the arrival of the little green men, random people seemingly falling from the skies claiming to be from the future. The closing down of the wormhole cutting off their access to the outside world and now the Brood. Things could have been better in the isolated paradise that time had forgotten, But as always the X-Men played the hand they were dealt. However the waiting suddenly came to an abrupt end as the sounds of another stampede came towards the Utopia base and panic of hordes of infected Brood from all walks of life were rumored to be on the war path.

The telepathic warning from Rachel all but confirmed the attack as she sent out the message the army was nearly on them, But assured them the Queen's control had been broken and it was time to fight them back. Kitty rushed to action along side her other team mates. But as she rushed out to join the rest of the ranks slowly but surely others around her were turning into full fledged Brood. Sharp feral claws, double row of teeth and sharp fangs, The wings of insects and tails that were meant for destruction, But they all seemed to be fighting for the cause the efforts to break the mind control seemed to work.

Once outside of the base as the thralls of the Brood Queen's army scaled the protective walls of the base the battle had begun. While a few of the flying recruits were some of the first to break through and swooped down at Kitty she defensively tried to swat them away but in the excitement of that her transformation began as she along with the others was turning into the Brood creature with all their super strength, body armor, defensive and offensive skill, But still with the heart and soul of an X-Man making for a formidable foe for the Brood Army that outnumbered them but along with the other X-Men they will not go quietly, They will not vanish without a fight.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Werewolf
Unregistered

The inside of once-Jack Russell's mind was quiet with order. It held only the thoughts of the Brood and his Queen.

The Broodling that had been that man had seen the quick spiraling demise of the mate of his host out of the Queen's favor, and he had no desire to be hunted down like the animal the body he possessed was once able to change into. The Broodling had looked into Jack Russell's mind and he knew fear would not be a wise tactic; it would bring struggle, and struggle was a distraction. At least the feral Broodling had enough foresight to know that the host's mate might be cast out, and he had taken measures to placate the lycanthrope.

His place was at his Queen's side, and there could be no room for error. Even now, as the horde rippled with anticipation as they stormed the wilds, crushing it in their progress to the site of their battle, the last thing the Broodling would tolerate for his Queen's plans to go awry. Everything hinged on this battle, and he was alert.

They were upon the mutants and their Red Guardian when the Broodling felt fury claw against the inside of his skull. The Queen was displeased, and so were they all.

Her command was clear. ::Kill everything.::

The Broodling would have smiled if he could, but his mandible didn't work that way any more, too full of teeth and plate armor. ::At your command, my Queen. It is my pleasure.:: He spun and dove for the ground, his talons ready, and his stinger poised to do as his Queen bade him.

He would not disappoint her.

----

Jack turned sixteen today.

His mom kept insisting on a party, and even though Jack kept reminding her that he was too old for balloons she did it all anyway. She had always been like that, caring too much when there was no need to. But he'd be out of here in two years anyway; he would go to college and then he could do whatever he wanted. Then Lissa could be the only child; she'd like that. Brat.

Although he would never admit it, Jack liked his family well enough, but the last thing he wanted was a party in the backyard with little macaroons and a cake that had those dorky little striped candles on it.

"Dude, nice balloons," his friend Adam elbowed him in the ribs.

"Shut up," Jack muttered through a half-smile, clutching a disappointing glass of punch.

"We're gonna have a... better party later right? I know a guy who knows a guy who can get us some beer."

Jack's brow crinkled a little, looking to his mom uneasily as she flittered around the refreshments table, badgering his dad into putting more burgers on the grill. He'd always looked up to him, and the last thing he wanted was a 'i am so disappointed in you' spiel. "I dunno.."

"Oh come on," Adam rolled his eyes, jutting his chin towards a pretty brunette girl lingering at the punch bowl. "Lindsey's gonna be there, huh? Man, you gotta ask her out already."

"Yeah?" Jack looked over quietly, trying to be subtle. But Lindsey saw him, and then she smiled and waved. He played it cool and nodded, taking a sip of punch, and promptly choked and spat it back out. Adam yelped and jumped backwards, fruitlessly trying to rub out the splattered stains all over his new polo.

"Dude! What is your problem?"

"I uh... uh...," Jack swallowed thickly. Lindsey had her hand over her mouth, she was laughing, he could hear it. How did he even know that? He felt sick, like his insides were crawling up his throat.

He may have shoved his cup into Adam's hands, he didn't know, but in the next moment he was running, half-stumbling into the woods behind his parents' Beverly Hills home. Jack's skin was crawling and his head was pounding. Was this what absolute mortification felt like? His feet tangled underneath him, and Jack stumbled into the dirt, tasting rocks and salt and rainwater packed into the ground.

The forest was quiet except for his own racing heart thundering in his ears, and Jack gasped, pushing himself up. The tips of his fingers came away wet; his cuticles were bleeding, and he could swear he could see the tendons on the back of his hand moving.

"Jack! Jack.. oh... son.."

Dad. His dad was here. Jack looked up, blinking, feeling like he was five years old instead of sixteen. His body hurt, all of it, even the backs of his eyes and the soles of his feet.

"What's.. what's happening to me? What.. hngh.. what is this?"

"I won't let you go through this alone.. not like I did." He grabbed Jack's shifting face, forcing his head still even as everything underneath his skin undulated with movement.

"Look at me, son.. look at me!"

Jack did look, his brows crinkling as he tried to see his father's face. It was difficult, like peering into a bright light and trying to read a book right after. He was startled to realize that he had never looked before, never really looked. One moment, it was like looking into a mirror and the next it was like seeing a stranger.

For a moment he forgot his pain, and Jack blinked. "W..who are you?"

The Brood didn't know what Gregory Russoff looked like, because even in the dark recesses of Jack's mind he had all but forgotten.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Psilord
Member Avatar
Reality Warping, Flight, Has a Pet Galactus
[Franklin and Rachel JP]


Hell boiled in Franklin's blood, as the Brood Queen called to what infected him. He was running through the rising chaos, a completely innocuous would be godling in cargo shorts, and a blue t-shirt with a large 4 across it, the significance of which he did not know beyond that he liked it. The early effects of the infection had given him rough patches of armored chitin at the knees and elbows, and along the length of his spine, but he had resisted a lot of the worst transformations, aspects of his powers, perhaps. But right now, as the Queen called to his blood, he wanted to give in, like those he saw around him.

But he watched, as the people he knew, became these horrible things, and he heard, in his mind, his girlfriend's voice cut off and he suddenly understood with dead certainty that the transformation would prevent his powers from working, all of their powers. Oh god, what did that mean for the neural net. Sure Danger held it together but the telepaths, Rachel and Jean, they had to be available to hold the net, just in case. He had to find them, had to protect them.

Pain slammed into him, and doubled him over, but he pushed it back, refusing to change, his powers filling him with bright blue light. He coughed, spewing blood flecked nastiness across the wall that he held on to. "Rachel..." he muttered. "I'm coming, cutie..."

Quelling the transformation, grasping desperately at the blue light, he staggered into the courtyard, and witnessed the chaos in front of him. "Oh, my God..." he moaned, in horror at the sight of people he knew and loved transformed into... He clenched at his heaving stomach, and felt so much terror at this that he was almost unable to stand.

The black and yellow buzzing broodling that called out in the echoing, chittering voice that was nonetheless Cyclops gave Franklin strength though. He was fighting it, he was still himself inside that shape, and that meant they had a chance. The young man for whom the future was the past pushed off from the wall, turning to try and find Rachel somewhere in this madness.


Spindly, gangly limbs that refused to split off into anything beyond the normal human number carried her staggering in the courtyard as she fought the change, the unwanted call of the Brood that was forcing her body to carry itself over into some other existence. Musculature reconfigured, bones changed about as from began to fit function. That slimy feeling coating her mind though, it had become suddenly gone. Nowhere to be felt or known as the Brood inside her's thoughts were hijacked by a more benevolent deity.

Regardless of the relief inherent in the neural web's success, the pain was so much, it made her think, made her mind crawl towads those old days that had yet to happen, the spearing pain of those neural harpoons rekindled as wings blossomed from her back and claws burst from fingers, chitinous plates growing where only minutes ago spotted skin had marked her illness.

She looked up into the air through orange eyes that bore no hint of their usual green-gold color. Watched her father, or what had once been her father, no, her father himself, dart outwards towards the approaching horde. A slew of X-Brood moved after him, some flying, some bounding, and she pulled herself to her feet.

"Franklin..." She said, newfound senses heightened to the point of animal acuity. She saw him stumbling out into the courtyard, moved towards him on shaky legs. Scrambling through the clamor and pandemonium she found him, layed her hand at his shoulder. "Franklin she's got an army, we've got a handfull..."


She was so changed, so different from the pretty girl who had come through time for him, but in Franklin's eyes, she was still Rachel, his girl, his love. She placed a clawed hand on his shoulder and he didn't flinch or pull back. "She can have all the army she wants, babe, but look at them, they are animals and monsters. We're heroes." He leaned forward, and kissed her, not minding that she was so changed. "I'm holding on for us both," he told her, "We didn't come here to die."


She fought the aching off, the dizzy spells and the hurt. and when she saw her hand she lifted it from his shoulder. clinching it into a fist, staring it down briefly before looking back to him. He didn't grimace or gawk, he knew it was her, underneath all these Brood changes. And his words hit her, like a ton of bricks. That was the nature of this plan, this gambit of her mother and father's. There was no real way to stop this change, but there was a way to keep their wits about. And she hadn't come sixty million miles from tomorrow to die a cockroach. She nodded. Looking back to the skies. "I'd kiss you but I'd rather wait until I'm a hundred percent sure I have lips." She looked back to him. "I have to go find mom. If she's still human she can pick up my slack..."


"I'll go get your mom," Franklin said, "Maybe I can use my powers to shield her from the transformation long enough for her to keep the net up. You can't do anything for her like this. You need to go be beside your Dad. Go tear some shit up, sweetness. I want to be able to say that my girl is a real ass kicker!"


He was right. She was muscle now. And muscle was what they needed, at least for now. She turned back towards the sky, looking up out of the Courtyard, skies dark with the Brood's air forces. She looked back to Franklin and gave a peck to her fingers which she passed to his cheeks. "Be careful. The world's depending on us. They might not know it, but they are." She took off like a dart through the air, inherent racial memory showing her all the right moves as she tried to hone in on her father through their newly rigged overmind.


"I'll expect a real kiss when you get your lips back!" Franklin called out as she took off, and he shot into the air himself, looking for Jean, hoping he'd find her in time.
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Kevin Ford
Unregistered

The broodling male clawed at the ground as their family broke open the fortifications of the X-men like an egg. It was only a matter of time before more would join them and he was standing next to their Queen, their Emperess, at the brink of the Brood fate. He had proven himself to her as the most loyal, had ran the female under the traitorous bus she assigned herself to. Yet still he held issue that he dare not speak of. Issues with his host because of that unfortunate woman.

The final loud cracking noise resounded and she gave her command for them all to go, to fight and kill everything. He would bury his host in the blood of those who had trusted to be around him.

----

"Kevin!"

Pulling the cloth from his pocket, Kevin wiped the lenses of his goggles as he pulled them free from his face. His brain registered that the voice he was hearing belonged to that of his father, but the pit in his stomach told him not to look.
He could hear the sliding door hiss open and pictures flooded his head of his fathers face, sunken in like he'd been in a coffin for a hundred years. If he turned around now there was the possibility that he would see that still, like being trapped in a nightmare.

'Don't think about that, my little host. Forget your thoughts of death. Forget everything and simply exist here.'

He could hear the footsteps behind him now and reluctantly looked up. His father looked normal, as normal as he ever had. A warm, smiling expression just as he remembered it. He couldn't quite place the strange sadness that accompanied it, nor why he'd been worried. Of course his father was alright.


----

The broodling barreled through the area, large pawed claws striking at the first abomination he came across. The creatures were new still, not versed with their new bodies and gifts from the Emperess. He would win.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Amara Aquilla
Unregistered

The surge of pain hit her like she'd run into a wall and for a moment she felt as if she were going to be sick. All around there were people shifting into the bug like creatures and she could feel her own body aching to pull and change shape. She knew that she wouldn't be able to push this off for long, this tranformation, but she couldn't help but resist. Her eyes closed and for a few minutes she took a few slow breaths in, trying to take control of her body while her mind was being assisted by the work done by the others and Danger.

::The net is working. The Queen doesn’t have control! We have to fight ba-::

The creatures which she guessed were made up of the dinosaurs started to spill in, but it was Scott's call to them to gather that made her take the steps towards the others. Flames attempted to spread over her skin with the hope that she might be able to push the transformation away longer, but the waves of pain would make any sort of fight very hard. She was an X-man, there was nothing she needed to do at the moment but her duty.

"SWARM!"

With a yell she felt the ache spread and the fire on her body was snuffed out like a gust of wind had hit her. She steadied herself against the wall as the two sides started clash, the creatures that were recognized as some of their friends. It might not make a difference but with all of this fighting her concern turned to finding them.

Within a matter of minutes the pain resided and all that remained was a strange looking hybrid of brood and Amara. She stretched out her strange clawed fingers and started stepping towards the fray before breaking into a run, hitting one of the smaller flying brood creatures with the sharper armored side of her hand.

"I see two of the larger ones coming from over there!" If Danger provided one help it was the fact that the group was still able to maintain their tactical advantage. There was a reason for training sessions and not all of them focused on powers. Months of hard work as a group in the savage lands and she had nothing but confidence that they would win. But they needed to subdue the leaders. Jack... Marrow... Kevin and Rahne. Two found, aside from the Queen, the last she needed to see. She needed to know that her friend was alright even if she was not herself.

"RAHNE!"
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Rusty Collins
Unregistered

Clearing the front door, Rusty’s new claws skittered across the stone and took him quickly out into the morning light. He stopped so quickly that it kicked up dirt and flung bits of grass and sod into the air. Narrowed eyes scanned the area as he slowly pivoted on his large, powerful and segmented insectile legs. Elongated and snapped backwards, he could feel their incredible strength, and despite the horror of the situation, he was glad for it. Right now they needed all of the strength they could get.

He could feel a presence within him, and knowing someone was running interference for the remaining X-Men and students in Utopia gave him encouraging strength and looking around at the others emerging to meet the threat he realized as an added benefit that he knew the others. Ms. Pryde, Rachel, Derek, Anole and several others were converging in the open.

::Yeh lot are uglier than I am.::

Glancing up at Kevin, Rusty couldn’t help it. His whinnying laugh was interrupted by the clarion call that resounded across the of their home. It was Cyclops, and Rusty had a pretty good idea of what they all owed him. At the sound of the call to swarm, Rusty joined in the charge-falling in behind the quickly charging Kevin monstrosity and crashing headlong into a wave of Brood fearlessly.

Strong legs coiled down and gave him an incredible jump, propelling him airborne and crashing him headlong into the midst of the fray. His tail snapped forward and drove two spikes into the face of one of them. It shrieked as its eye was impaled but Rusty did not pause. Lashing out with unfamiliar limbs and dagger teeth he appeared to be doing well at first.

But there were too many of them and where he lacked familiarity with his new body-they most certainly did not. Coming from every direction, they swarmed him, tearing into him as he savagely fought on. Being outnumbered and overpowered was nothing new to him, and with the knowledge that this was all or nothing Rusty let out a deafening shriek and redoubled his efforts.

He didn’t even notice that they were corralling him backwards and into the woods.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Marrow
Unregistered

The Empress, as she had come to be called, stood from the creature bearing her, stepping down as she watched her Brood descend upon the temple. Had she tears she might have shed them, the loss of her children to some alien consciousness still fresh and bloodying in her mind. These cretins would pay, though. They would pay very dearly for this transgression, this sleight to her power and grandeur. Her mind bucked through the overmind, searching for precedent and tactic and finding none. She growled low as her mind’s thoughts bore outwards, drilling into the minds of all over whom she still lorded.

And they were many.

The trees, still hiding the largest, began to rustle and rumble, and those massive creatures, once herbivores and gentle giants, pushed forth, bursting over the walls with thunderous roars. Small head on neck too long frothed and snarled and split wide into lashing tendrils, a Brood head emerging like a bloody flower from the base of the neck, roaring and gnashing even more teeth as they rumbled to a stop, their stomachs splitting open and spitting forth hordes of smaller, more vicious brethren. Brood within Brood.

The Skyborn Flock darkened the skies, swooping down, pelting the temple, darting with razor sharp claws towards whatever they could.

From the ground bubbled burrowing creatures, faces twisted horrors.

And the Empress, who days ago had been a Queen, and who days before had been but a lowly seed in the cut on the finger of an inquisitive woman, snarled as the X-Brood and her own clan took to war as millions had in bygone days.

::Nothing whose crest bears that crossed symbol lives. We will conquer this world without them.” She said. ::Kill them all.::




Inside the realm of the mind, their audience dwindled as the horde began to concentrate on the battle being waged in the world of reality. But the Queen, the Empress, who was not bounded by the same constraints as her Warriors Prime, waged a second war. One that until now, had been wholly in her favor.

Marrow, twisted and gnarled moreso now than she had ever been, clashed blades of bone against the claws of the Queen, the feats of strength exuded by both clashing in titanic fashion, sending shocking ripples across the newly formed hivemind. They came together, and the Queen wrenched her tail back, slammed it forward, impaling the twisted girl on it. Marrow screamed, coughed up some psychic facsimile. Blood of her mind. She responded in kind, cleaving the Queen, nearly boring her in two, staggering back as the Queen lost her grip, painfully jerking her tail from Marrow’s gut.

“Look at you.” She said, towering over the purple skinned, blood smattered woman. “Look at you, your skin, your eyes. The only way you win is to let yourself be defeated. The more you give in the more of you I control. And soon we’ll be one and you’ll no longer be a worry.”

The mind of Marrow, whittled now down to its most instinctual of states, didn’t speak. It only looked on before issuing a blood-curdling shriek and charging back towards its would-be overlord, pouncing and ripping for its throat.



The Queens eyes flinched, the only hint of this sudden inner turmoil, and she scanned the battlefield as it was joined. As the Brood began to battle she stepped forward, shape undulating. Those bladed, chitinous arms at her back arching wider as she looked to the skies, raucous laughter escaping in defiance of the gravity of the present battle.

She saw the rogue colors flitting into the battlefield. They would come for her.

This made her smile.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Skrull Plot Archives · Next Topic »
Add Reply