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Like a Spider Up Your Spine; [Open to X-Men/Med Staff/ask]
Topic Started: Jul 30 2012, 02:16 PM (396 Views)
Marrow
Unregistered

Morning of May 26th
JP - Marrow and Xel'lirks


In the infirmary, still full of tender injuries being tended to with the utmost care, stood a room, a room which not all too long ago had contained the body of a dead woman. A dead woman who had come back to life and brought Savage war to Pangaea, to the Savage Lands. She lay there again, rebuilt, renewed, less than herself but more all at once.

Sarah Rushman, Elise Knuckey, Marrow, the girl had gone by many names, some real, some assumed, others questionable in more ways than one. She lay there, quiet, breathing silently, laying there without so much as a stir save those short shallow puffs of air. Her form sat changed now more than ever. Feint orange luminescence crept out from under half-closed lids, dark spots dotted her forehead, her arms, legs, checkered her back. The lavender flesh was baby-smooth, newly grown, but tough all the same. Claws peaked from finger and toetips, more new additions to a frame rebuilt from a pair of donors. Marrow lay there, herself and yet something new as well.

Healing Factor. It had saved her life more than once, but no time moreso than the day before. Nothing had been able to rouse her; it had been hypothesized that she simply needed to rest, that for her mutation’s wondrous abilities to revitalize her it needed to shut her off. She would wake in time.

Sooner than many thought.



Xel’lirks had spent some time being investigated upon the completion of the battle. He’d spent more time than that overseeing his own people and conversing with Cyclops about this and that. It was astonishing how easy it was to talk with someone when fighting wasn’t the first and usually only thing on ones mind. He’d even been given leave to explore the grounds. He’d done so, finding himself pacing through many corners; one however drew him in moreso than the others. The infirmary; where the injured lay and the well tended to them. Seeing them in such frail states saddened him, but it served to add perspective and made sure he didn’t forget what had transpired; what his people had helped unleash. Hands behind back he walked in and looked over each person, offering smiles to those awake and well wishes to those who weren’t.

Finally he stopped upon one person in particular; the one who had been the cause of all this, unintentional but still the cause. He found that while he no longer possessed his Skrull form, nor his stolen human one, the memories of both were ingrained with him and would not leave. He…Dontae knew this girl as Marrow, and also as Sarah. Although the first name was the preferred. She was not the easiest person to get along with, but from one person who knew hardship, the boy could tell that was her reason. There was also the matter of her appearance which had changed drastically from the mental picture he had of her.


Mottled spots, glowing ocular lenses, slightly different skin tone and claws. This girl had died to become host for the Queen…the Imperiatrix. Then her form had been repurposed while some small part of her that could never be fully erased stayed conscious. And when the queen fell, just like all the others, she’d been reborn. But as a host of the Queen, as one who experienced true death…Marrow was blessed, or cursed with one final gift from the monster. He stopped at the foot of her bed, smiling when he saw the stable vitals on the monitor.

“Marrow…Sarah. Never stop fighting.”



The world bloomed into brilliant white light. Everything was vivid, vivid and colorful and vibrant despite the general monochrome of the clinical room. She wasn’t sure, just then, if she was alive or dead. The last thing she remembered, at least with any sort of certainty, was a fleeting word with Rahne. She’d felt it then, felt that fear of death for the second time in her life. This had been different though. This had been some sort of certainty. She remembered it, then, dying. Remembered seeing Rahne through eyes not her own. Like when people talked about out-of-body experiences.

But there’d been so much pain then. Now? Nothing. She felt fine. Springy, even, as if laying still here was quickly becoming a chore. She felt her hand move, reached up to grab at her head. A cotton cap sat over it, and pulling it off, she ran her fingers through short scruff adorning her head, a clue that something was amiss. That realization jogged her memory, sent her back to the night she began to die, to choke the life out of her, rip her body apart. McCoy’s face, it had been the single scariest expression she’d ever seen.

She smelled something. Something subtle, distant, but close all the same. The first thing she noticed after that was the silence. For weeks she'd had trillions of terrifying voices in her head, screaming, hissing, begging, pleading. A now quiet. Stark, sudden, and, if she were to be honest with herself, not welcome. It was a sudden lonely feeling, as if she'd been wholly cut from a loved one, a family she'd never remembered having. That void was there though, curious and inviting investigation.

Her eyes flickered there and she tried to sit up, the soft of the sheets on new skin giving her a sensation of being in some far off dreamy place. She felt a cough come up as the cool air tickled at new lungs that seemed to suddenly realize they were in use.

"What happened?" She said, not looking anywhere but at the ceiling.


The pink primate…no, that was how a Skrull thought; that was not him anymore. The pink girl was beautiful in the traditional sense, even though most people would fail to see it, just as they failed to look past her physical mutations and attitude, to see the true person underneath. She was also beautiful in another sense. She’d fought, struggled, and never lost hope against more than impossible odds. She’d died, and still refused to give up. Something about that sort of determination was inspiring; like nothing he’d ever witnessed or experience beforehand.

Watching her was peaceful in a way, and when she moved, opened her eyes and began coughing, he went to her side and put a gentle hand on her back to help her sit upright. He sent a mental message to Jean, telling her and leaving it up to her to inform the others that Marrow had woken up. A simple question of what happened was the only utterance made by the girl as she just looked up at the ceiling. “What happened is a long story; it has some rather unpleasant parts, but a relatively happy ending…until you get to the epilogue.” That was the part when the brave heroes realized that even though the Brood had been routed, the Skrulls were still poised to conquer the planet.


Someone was speaking to her, his language jumbled at first as her coherencies began to right themselves. As she struggled to sit forward, his hand went to her back, pushing her forward. Something itched in her nose. Something old and ingrained into this new genetic chain that composed her being. A sudden surge of violent desire. Conquer, kill, destroy. It was subtle, quiet, gnawing at the back of her mind. Marrow clenched her forehead in her hands, shaking the sudden inkling back and away.

"I feel like I been sleeping for a year."

And then she turned to face him. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. Nuwali. Old. Glimpses of a bygone war that had ended badly for all involved. A Queen, larval and young, imprisoned for eons in a glass vault. A cut. Escape. Constrict. Convert. Destroy.

Like a serpent's sudden strike she lashed out, hand reaching for his throat as she was on frail feet, backing him towards the wall. Nuwali. Enemy. Skrull. The Skrull wanted her friends dead. Wanted her chil... friends dead. Her family.

Her eyes scowled angrily, lips curled back over fangs that were not her own. Had she had her tail it would already be over. Had she her...

"You kept it. You kept it locked up. Why?!" She pushed her snarling face closer to his, boney horns piercing her forehead, curling back in a show of percieved dominance. "Why?!"


It took her a few moments to accept his assistance and sit up; even then she wasn’t fully acclimated. She said she felt like she’d been sleeping for a year. Not quite that long, but she’d been “asleep” for a very long time.

“It has been some time since you’ve been among the liv- the waking world, Marrow.” He adopted a sagely smile and a slight nod of the head when she turned to look at him; being Nuwali was wonderful and he felt so at peace. So he was certainly not expecting a clawed hand to move faster than he could be expected to react to in such a relaxed state and push him hard against a wall.

No longer possessing the body or mentality of a warrior, but of a thinker, Xel’lirks was almost completely as Marrow’s mercy. There was of course a multitude of ways his newly unlocked mind recognized as potential defense methods, but he was confused as to why this was happening in the first place. “What have I done, Marrow?!”

His hands clasped for purchase on her arm; her strength was monstrous. It was the queen…it had to be. It still held some sort of sway over her!! His eyes popped wide in surprise when she asked why they’d kept “it”. “It?! What do you mean it?!” And just like that it triggered. He knew what she meant. “I…I don’t know. I don’t know why they would.”


His hand landed on her arm, and she glanced at it, lips still curled over bared teeth. Everything that had happened. Everything that had come to pass was in that moment laid upon this thing's shoulders. She had fleeting memories, of those first hours, of the Queen's rise and escape from Utopia. She'd nearly killed several people, students and friends alike. Rahne, Jack, Wither and Freakshow. She'd potentially ruined their lives. And for what? For some abandoned spook alien sideshow project?

Her hand tightened around his throat. "A squeeze. All I need to do is squeeze."

And it would be that easy. Nuwali, Skrull. Same shit different day. They all needed split open. Dragged around for all to see. Flayed, carved up. They were useless. Evolutionary dead ends, the dictate was... no. Images flooded her head again, flashbacks to those waking moments of conscious thought. Beneath the shade of her visor, her luminous eyes widened. Artie... she'd killed Artie. That face. Something had been off about it, but she knew it all the same. Her sickness had changed Artie, and then she'd killed him.

Marrow tossed her captive aside as horror dawned on her. Looking to her hands, now trembling with upset instead of fury. She'd nearly done it again. Tears welled and she clenched her fists, choking them back. She had to bury that anger. No matter how strong or how warranted or how good it would feel to get rid of it. She had to bury it. Think back to what she'd learned here. The calming techniques she'd learned from Jean. The focus she'd been taught by Logan.

She looked to Xel'lirks with a face consumed by all the rage she could muster, but it faded into a look of sorrow and grieving. She'd killed another friend. Not just a friend, but a brother. Sinking back, she let herself fall back onto her bed, covered her face to hide the sobs.


Claws with barely visible finger slits that worked like the Earth feline; teeth sharpened to fang points, glowing eyes and the spots. All the physical clues were there, and like a youngling he’d ignored the possibility for mental traits to be left over from Marrow’s regenesis as well. And now he was held against the wall like an insignificant irritant by a girl with the urges of possibly the most dangerous creature in existence. He was no longer a fighter, no longer a warrior. That thought kept flashing through his mind with increasing prevalence as Marrow seemed less and less likely to try and fight the influence that was no doubt telling her to shred his flesh and gouge herself on his innards.

Breathing became incredibly difficult as the girls vice like grip tightened around his throat. He hacked and wheezed, slowly losing the strength to fight as his esophagus got less and less air. He had to chance his last bit of air at reaching her though. “That would prove the, ack, the Queen…still holds sway. You are stronger.” A quick thought, and he raised a weak and feeble hand to attempt what would hopefully be a nerve strike. Nuwali were not natural born fighters, but were incredibly efficient at self defense if the need arose. Luckily, more for him than Marrow, it didn’t come to that.

She threw him aside and he barely landed on his feet, already gasping down that sweet oxygen he’d been deprived of. The girl glared at him with a look that truly put fear into his very soul, but that soon grew sad; she fell to her bed and began crying. Hiding the tears didn’t hide the sound. It was mental illness to get so close after nearly being killed, but mental illness he’d risk if it meant doing something to change some of the wrong he’d done in the name of a heretic queen. He cautiously walked over, then sat next to her. A gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder, but no words, not yet. What could he say?
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Wolfsbane
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Wolf Form
The young woman held a rare privilege. In all of the kingdom, in all of the empire, she was the only woman who had been chosen. Chosen to don the armor, to pick up the sword, to fight gloriously for the throne's honor and safety.

To be chosen, it filled the young woman with pride, with glory of purpose. She had proven those who would scoff at a woman knight wrong. And her majesty loved her for it. And she, in turn, loved her majesty with all of her heart.

She strode down the hall, the joints in her armor clacking with each step, heavy boot falls muffled by the red carpet down the center. Torches lined the walls, casting a soft glow on the dark stone of the walls and floor. Armored guards stood at attention at regular intervals, and the young knight nodded to each in turn as she passed them by.

"Yuir majesty," the young knight announced as she entered the throne room, taking a knee in front of the throne.

"Lady Rahne of the Wolf's Heart," the queen answered, standing from her opulent, bejeweled throne. The queen, as always, was radiant, beautiful. dressed in a long, flowing purple gown, with a tall, jewel-encrusted crown raising from her forehead. It was difficult to tell where the crown began and the queen's head ended, so intrinsic to the queen's appearance was this crown.

"Ye called for me?" Lady Rahne asked as she stood, the queen taking graceful, fluid steps towards her.

"I did," the queen answered, and held her knight in an embrace, placing sweet, gentle kisses on her lips. The knight thrilled to this touch - the queen's affection was all she wished for in life, all she strove for. It was all everyone in the kingdom wished for - and to have earned it, was truly the highest honor.

"I wished to hold you one last time before I had you executed," the queen whispered into Rahne's ear, and a sharp pain darted through the young knight's midsection. She looked down in shock - the queen's arm had penetrated through her armor, through her belly, out her back.

"You are a failure, Lady Rahne - you are weak and you are feeble. There is no room for those qualities in my service," Rahne heard the words, but could scarcely comprehend them.

The queen's arm withdrew, covered in greenish yellow blood, as Rahne fell to the floor with a crash and a clatter...


Rahne Sinclair awoke to the same sound - but it was not her own armor-clad body falling to the floor - it was medical equipment being knocked over at Marrow's attack upon... upon what the hell was she attacking?

No time to contemplate the horror of her nightmare, she jumped out of the hospital bed she had been sleeping in, kept in the infirmary for both convalescence and observation, to ensure that the alien spores were completely eradicated from her blood stream. She was unmindful of the hospital gown she wore - it didn't matter. All that mattered now was putting a stop to... to...

And then it was over. Sarah had tossed the creature aside, whoever it was - whatever it was. And went from blind rage to quiet sorrow. It was then that things started to add up in Rahne's head. It wasn't so much how the suddenly resurrected Marrow looked, it wasn't so much the fact that Rahne knew that her friend had died, that Rahne had mourned her death and fallen into depression before the change on account of it - it wasn't that.

It was Marrow's scent. It was the way she smelled in that moment of rage that sent Rahne's adrenal system afire. That sent her reflexively into the defensive mode of her half-wolf form as she backed slowly away, golden eyes wide and trained directly on Marrow.

Because Marrow - Marrow smelled exactly like the Brood Queen...

And that terrified Rahne beyond all reasoning.
Posted Image

[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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Rusty Collins
Unregistered

Rusty had pushed past his exhaustion into a second-wind hours ago. Working in the infirmary, he waited by her side until Doreen had someone looking after her and then went back out to the gruesome task of helping carry in the other wounded.

He’d never seen anything like this, and not even the most frightening science fiction and horror movies he had ever watched growing up came anywhere close to the shocking awfulness of carrying back classmates to the makeshift medical facilities, covered in blood and slime and dripping carapace off of their broken bodies like hatchlings coming out of their shell.

Staying in the infirmary, he did what he could. He changed towels and set up beds and helped move people from table to table. Everyone was exhausted and everyone was in pain. He would rest when everything was done-and not before. Standing at a sink he splashed cold water over his face again and looked in the mirror. He almost didn’t recognize himself and distantly wondered if he was slowly losing his grip on consciousness.

Loud and sharp voices on the other side of the infirmary caught his attention, and Rusty turned off the water, heading over to where Marrow was in the midst of a heated exchange with one of the Nuwali. He wasn’t sure what was going on, and honestly wasn’t real sure what he thought or felt about either one of them. Marrow, who had just recovered from being the conquering Brood Queen, and the other one from an invading impersonator apparently bent on assimilating and destroying them from within.

Rusty’s eyes widened when he saw Marrow fling the guy away from her, but a moment later had him standing at her side with a compassionate hand on her shoulder. Scrubbing his hair back he let the breath he’d been holding go and headed over to see how she was doing.

“Hey Marrow,” he said tentatively when he got close enough. It gave him a closer look at the strange but not unpleasant physical change that had come over her. He wrinkled his brow. “Is…” Is everything all right? What kind of a stupid question is that? He stopped himself and after a short pause resumed. “Can I get you anything?”
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Kevin Ford
Unregistered

The broodling raised its big clawed hand and dug into the flesh of the transformed creature in front of him, relishing in the carnage it and its brothers were causing. They were a family and all of this was for the sake of her, their queen.

Turning towards her, the creature looked upon her with reverence, with love. Her mouth slowly opened and the words that came out did not match her loving expression. They were snarled and angry.
’You kept it. You kept it locked up. Why?!’

Rolling onto his side out of surprise, the sullen teen nearly fell out of the cot in surprise. For a moment he stared at the scene unfolding and then to the area around him. It looked strange to him despite him knowing it was the infirmary at the base. Slowly his mind began to catch up with things. Getting pulled from the husk of his brood self, the fight, the carnage and blood-lust of the Brood, his transformation... He could remember saying things and doing things despite the fact that he was not in control of himself. It felt like he'd been sleeping and simply had a terrible dream.

Taking a few steps forward towards where Marrow was, he nearly collided with the half-wolf Rahne Sinclair. He stepped to the side as she moved slowly backward, looking at Rahne like a fly trapped in the net of a spider. Maybe it was everything that had happened between them as broodlings, but Rahne's fear only made him angry.. They were all victims of circumstance in this horrible place, Marrow included.

Stepping quickly past and up to Marrow Kevin placed a hand briefly on her back to guide her back from the others, shooting a glare over to Rahne. "Just back off."

He pulled his hand back and let it hang a little awkwardly at his side. Maybe it wasn't right to be showing so much concern for her, but even before all of this Marrow had been one of his few friends. She never flinched at him.
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Marrow
Unregistered

She lay there, half on the bed, half off, face cradled in clawed hands that weren't hers. Artie was dead, that had been the first thing she remembered. He'd stuck that thing in her face and she'd killed him for it. Killed him for saving her.

She cried there, so wracked by sobs that they came out more as silent gasps, and sat forward, weeping even as those nearby began to gather around her.

They weren't here. This was another trick. Another ploy of the Queen's. This time it was going to send her after her friends. It'd taken her dreams, it'd taken her strength, and by god, her hope, Now it was going to take her friends. Rusty's words, Withers, the thing next to her, Rahne, none of it registered. Doubling over in her seat she wiped at tears and nose alike with an arm.

And then the thing next to her, who's stink was so foul to her, so offensive, laid a hand on her shoulder.

She growled, low at first, but it grew into a shout, an angry and furious yawp of discontent and she shot up from the bed, slapping his hand away from her. "Don't touch me, you fucking thing. You fucking monster. She stumbled around, spinning to face it, twin shafts of bladed bone punching through her the back of her hand a the knuckles, fists balled and shaking as she held it with all the strength she could muster at her side. "I should fucking gut you, I should gut you and string you up and put you out there so everyone knows that you're not a good thing. That you'll never be a good thing. Green or Gray, good or bad, you'll never be a fuckin' good thing. You ruined lives, you fuckin' ugly bastard."

She took a step forward, rearing that fist back, ready to lash it out at him, to cut him, draw blood, relieve the pressure.

"You and your people kept that thing here, you fuckin' set us up to go there and fuckin' find it, you son of a bitch you. You fuckin' killed me. I oughtta fuckin... GRAGH!"

She struck out with the bone claws, the duo cutting a set of creases into the fabric of the mattress to his side, sticking into the metal frame. She broke them off at the base.

She then became suddenly aware of everyone else, looking around in her ragged breath, eyes wide in sudden surprise, newly fanged teeth bared through lips curled with rage. She felt naked all of a sudden, The quiet in her head was obnoxious. The rage in her mind doubly so. The bile in her throat burned a bit, brought her once more back to reality.

She looked to Rahne for a moment, perhaps a bit longer than she needed to. Then to Wither and Rusty. "I want to see Artie's body." She spat. "Right now. I need to know this is real, Or I swear to god I... I'll..."

What? Gut them? Eat them? Tear them apart? It was as if everything she'd put behind her in the past year had bubbled to the surface. Was she still the Queen? Was she just something waiting to boil over? Was she even herself? She looked to the spots on her arm, She had to see. What had it done to her? Pushing past Rusty to the stand between her own bed and the one beside it, she swiped the equipment off of a tray and spun it over, got a good eyefull.

Throwing the plate aside with a clatter she drove her fist into the wall before her, sending spidery cracks along the stone.

"...God damn... god damn..." She said, going to her knees.

She wanted to find somewhere dark to crawl to.
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Wolfsbane
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Wolf Form
It was horrible. It was all still so very horrible and it seemed like only Rahne could see it. They wanted to support Marrow, to help her in this time of dire need and sorrow... Rusty, this... whatever he was... they wanted to help poor, pitiful Marrow...

And all Rahne felt was fear. Confusion. The emotional outpouring was all Marrow. All Sarah. The anger, the lashing out, the violence. That was her to a tee. But the scent... the tell-tale spotting and those eyes... burning eyes born in the pits of hell itself... they told a different story entirely.

Rahe looked to Kevin as he snapped at her, glared at her with such bitterness and vitriol in his eyes, stared at him for a moment out of confusion, eyes narrowed, head tilted towards her left shoulder.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her voice a bit weaker than it should have been. What had she done, to earn such scorn from him? She was victimized just as he was. She was violated no worse than him... unless...

No, his scent was free of the Brood. Unlike Marrow. But if she was still the queen, if she was still the monster who plagued Rahne's subconscious... who's to say she couldn't call them again? Who's to say she wouldn't start the nightmare over once more?

She wanted to yell right back at Kevin. Scold him for talking to a faculty member like that. Berate him for lack of respect and an outright hostility towards an authority figure. But she couldn't.

That look Marrow leveled at her, lips curled back into a fanged snarl... Marrow hadn't had fangs before. She just had normal teeth. One look from Marrow was all it took. One look and...

Rahne turned away, quickly, averting that gaze. Turned away and made for the door, trying desperately, but failing, to keep her tail from tucking between her legs as she went.

Rahne had felt many things in her life. She'd felt rage. She'd felt compassion. She'd felt lust. She'd felt insecurity.

But until today, until right this very moment... she'd never felt like a coward.
Posted Image

[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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Rho
Member Avatar
Density Manipulation, Flight
He sat silently as Marrow cried her eyes out into her pillow; he still said nothing as he probably had nothing she wanted to hear. The first in the room to respond to her outburst was the one known collectively as Rusty; he didn't know why people called him that, as humans couldn't rust in the first place. "I believe;" he said as he looked up to him, "that Marrow just needs time to cope with what transpired and returning to being herself...only herself. I'm sure she appreciates your concerns though, even if she says nothing."

He offered a kind smile at the boy and nodded his head. After that, he ignored Rahne's reaction to being awake and near Marrow and Wither's defense; his main focus was the girl right now. She needed help more than any of them. His hand had never left her shoulder, and apparently it's presence was unwelcome, because a low rumble built in Marrow's throat until it became a roar and she violently removed it while jumping off the bed. He stayed calm and nimbly put space between the two of them, even putting a hand on Rusty and pulling him back away from her.

He knew of these symptoms and with her heightened aggression, anyone might be unlucky enough to become a target for her anger. Her words, while partially true, still stung when he thought back to the thing he used to be. He would bear that grudge though as long as no physical harm came to him and the others. He had important work to do now that he was whole again, and that wouldn't happen if he was dead. He took a deep breath, making sure he was between the others and Marrow. "Yes, what I did as a Skrull was horrible. What my people have done as both Skrull and Nuwali is horrible. I will live with that for the rest of my days, but that is not who I am anymore."

As she took a step forward, he took one back; those bones springing from her could no doubt pierce him like paper and he'd rather that not happen. She brought it up again; how it was the Nuwali's fault this had happened, and in a way it was. "Yes. Yes my people kept a sample; the Queen Spore that infected you. I assume they were studying it when they were forced to leave this place. It may have been left behind under the thought they would be able to return. But they would not have wished the same fate that befell us on anyone else. I know this as truth."

Again her speed took him by surprise, and she sliced into the bed almost too fast for him to react to. "Everyone, stay back and remain calm. Marrow still has some traits of the Queen and they are affecting her, but she is still Marrow." He watched her gaze fall upon the others, then listened to her demands. "Nat'ren;" he corrected. "You want to see Nat'ren's body. Your Artie is still alive and well in Skrullos. The one you struck down was a brother of mine. Just as Artie is a brother to you. But there is no need for threats. We can arrange for you to see him; all I ask is that you remain calm.

The Queen may not be a part of you anymore, not like she once was. But you have been touched by her and altered. If you let those alterations judge your actions, you may end up hurting someone...someone besides me I mean." He was sincere enough to know that the girl was vulnerable and needed someone close to her. Logic won out however and he knew that allowing himself or anyone close could seal their doom, so he made sure they stayed back and gave her space.
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