Post by BWS2K on Mar 23, 2024 12:15:38 GMT -7
It’d been several weeks since Marrow’s return from the Hill dimension.
She’d spent that time quietly catching up on current events and checking on old haunts. Now, crouching atop the south tower of the Brooklyn Bridge, covered nearly head to toe in bonescale armor, she looked out over the city. Her Morlock eyes observed that with all those harsh lights cutting through the night’s shadows, blazing like pale stars across every inch of cold pavement and building facade, one could hardly ever truly call this world dark.
Almost a decade spent in that place, she reflected. Time passed more quickly in the Hill dimension than here. Altogether, nearly thirty years of my life away from my home…
But there was darkness here, and Marrow was as much a part of it as the shadows that most New Yorkers never had reason to notice. Hidden recesses that lay between hulking skyscrapers, alleyways that wove around apartment buildings and through the business district. The miles and miles of tunnels that reached out from the Alley like arteries for Morlock outcasts to traverse in safety. Some places were just too deep for the light to reach.
In fact, she’d once done her best to make people notice the dark.
It wasn’t too long ago (for her, anyway) that Gene Nation had its share of the news cycle. Marrow absent-mindedly rubbed her chest at the memory.
And then their rebirth under that changeling, she curled her lip in a silent snarl at the thought. It wasn’t the idea of being replaced - she, herself, acknowledged her status as basically Wolverine Lite and it was never a big deal. But an unworthy alien imposter whose actions cost so much… Surely Xavier’s people had found the Skrull body by now - she’d hardly been subtle when she pinned it to the school gates - though what they’d do with the revelation wasn’t important right now. ‘Friend’ was always a hard word for Marrow, but now she was thinking about how many people were left, Morlocks included, that remembered her at all. ...can I really call this place my home anymore?
A light squall had slowly moved in while Marrow had been stuck in her melancholy mood which was now beginning to fall at severe angles from periodic gusts of chilled wind. She shifted her weight from one knee to the other and heard the slight crunch in the snow. Sunrise was in a few hours: It’ll all be melted and gone before lunch…
Standing, Marrow stepped forward and skated down one of the slick suspension cables on the soles of her bare feet. Fleeting thoughts of Bobby Drake and Sam Guthrie flashed through her mind. Subconsciously, she held out her arms, retracting the bonescales there, and closed her eyes. A smile danced briefly across her face. It was a high-speed descent that took barely thirty seconds but the rush of cold air and danger brought the adrenaline she needed to pull her from her pensive mood.
The sidewalk was deserted when Marrow somersaulted gracefully from the bottom of the cable, landing smoothly upon its frigid surface and effortlessly reforming her armor in seconds. Not much traffic and fewer pedestrians would give her a second glance in these early morning hours and the snowfall helped. Her destination lay a few miles south - an old Gene Nation bunker accessed under the pier at Kaiser Park on Coney Island. So far, any such facilities that hadn’t been destroyed completely were bare. Some had obviously been professionally raided while others were just… empty. Abandoned. It didn’t matter. Gene Nation was dead; failed under her leadership. She’d tried the X-Men and, truth be told, it wasn’t the worst experience…
Chuckie and his pals had their moments…
But no, it was time for something new. Too many people grasped at the paradox of ‘fighting for peace’ while others seemed to hope for world domination even if it meant destroying the planet in the process. All started with good intentions ...probably?... but clearly ended up losing their way. Among other things, this meant a lot of disillusioned mutants trailing in their wake. Marrow would always be a Morlock by birth and heritage but maybe it was time for her to truly follow in the footsteps of Callisto and Storm.
I can just hear the Wind-Rider now: “By the Goddess! I always knew you had it in you, Sarah!”... She chuckled softly: “I guess you called it right, Bright Lady…
Marrow traveled openly at first and then, for reasons all her own, started favoring backways and less obvious routes. She even used a couple short tunnel shortcuts and the roof of a city bus for part of the trip. Something about old habits dying hard. Good trackers know how to lose a tail, and it was almost enjoyable to be sneaking around again. Eventually, she took a quick dip under the pier and accessed the bunker.
It wasn’t well lit, which was fine - she was quite used to navigating in the dark and the electrical systems could all be checked over later - but she left the hatch open anyway to let some ambient light into the entry chamber. Not much but enough. The room had tunnel access as well, which paralleled and intersected the Morlock systems in many places. Down the far corridor would lead to several other larger spaces ahead. Glancing around, Marrow could picture this as a gathering place for a team focused not on pursuing high-minded ideals but, instead, helping those who were leftover after those ideals turned out to be just a dream.
And, obviously, we’ll engage in some light thrashing of bad guys from time to time…
She started to explore the small facility and envision the days ahead.
She’d spent that time quietly catching up on current events and checking on old haunts. Now, crouching atop the south tower of the Brooklyn Bridge, covered nearly head to toe in bonescale armor, she looked out over the city. Her Morlock eyes observed that with all those harsh lights cutting through the night’s shadows, blazing like pale stars across every inch of cold pavement and building facade, one could hardly ever truly call this world dark.
Almost a decade spent in that place, she reflected. Time passed more quickly in the Hill dimension than here. Altogether, nearly thirty years of my life away from my home…
But there was darkness here, and Marrow was as much a part of it as the shadows that most New Yorkers never had reason to notice. Hidden recesses that lay between hulking skyscrapers, alleyways that wove around apartment buildings and through the business district. The miles and miles of tunnels that reached out from the Alley like arteries for Morlock outcasts to traverse in safety. Some places were just too deep for the light to reach.
In fact, she’d once done her best to make people notice the dark.
It wasn’t too long ago (for her, anyway) that Gene Nation had its share of the news cycle. Marrow absent-mindedly rubbed her chest at the memory.
And then their rebirth under that changeling, she curled her lip in a silent snarl at the thought. It wasn’t the idea of being replaced - she, herself, acknowledged her status as basically Wolverine Lite and it was never a big deal. But an unworthy alien imposter whose actions cost so much… Surely Xavier’s people had found the Skrull body by now - she’d hardly been subtle when she pinned it to the school gates - though what they’d do with the revelation wasn’t important right now. ‘Friend’ was always a hard word for Marrow, but now she was thinking about how many people were left, Morlocks included, that remembered her at all. ...can I really call this place my home anymore?
A light squall had slowly moved in while Marrow had been stuck in her melancholy mood which was now beginning to fall at severe angles from periodic gusts of chilled wind. She shifted her weight from one knee to the other and heard the slight crunch in the snow. Sunrise was in a few hours: It’ll all be melted and gone before lunch…
Standing, Marrow stepped forward and skated down one of the slick suspension cables on the soles of her bare feet. Fleeting thoughts of Bobby Drake and Sam Guthrie flashed through her mind. Subconsciously, she held out her arms, retracting the bonescales there, and closed her eyes. A smile danced briefly across her face. It was a high-speed descent that took barely thirty seconds but the rush of cold air and danger brought the adrenaline she needed to pull her from her pensive mood.
The sidewalk was deserted when Marrow somersaulted gracefully from the bottom of the cable, landing smoothly upon its frigid surface and effortlessly reforming her armor in seconds. Not much traffic and fewer pedestrians would give her a second glance in these early morning hours and the snowfall helped. Her destination lay a few miles south - an old Gene Nation bunker accessed under the pier at Kaiser Park on Coney Island. So far, any such facilities that hadn’t been destroyed completely were bare. Some had obviously been professionally raided while others were just… empty. Abandoned. It didn’t matter. Gene Nation was dead; failed under her leadership. She’d tried the X-Men and, truth be told, it wasn’t the worst experience…
Chuckie and his pals had their moments…
But no, it was time for something new. Too many people grasped at the paradox of ‘fighting for peace’ while others seemed to hope for world domination even if it meant destroying the planet in the process. All started with good intentions ...probably?... but clearly ended up losing their way. Among other things, this meant a lot of disillusioned mutants trailing in their wake. Marrow would always be a Morlock by birth and heritage but maybe it was time for her to truly follow in the footsteps of Callisto and Storm.
I can just hear the Wind-Rider now: “By the Goddess! I always knew you had it in you, Sarah!”... She chuckled softly: “I guess you called it right, Bright Lady…
Marrow traveled openly at first and then, for reasons all her own, started favoring backways and less obvious routes. She even used a couple short tunnel shortcuts and the roof of a city bus for part of the trip. Something about old habits dying hard. Good trackers know how to lose a tail, and it was almost enjoyable to be sneaking around again. Eventually, she took a quick dip under the pier and accessed the bunker.
It wasn’t well lit, which was fine - she was quite used to navigating in the dark and the electrical systems could all be checked over later - but she left the hatch open anyway to let some ambient light into the entry chamber. Not much but enough. The room had tunnel access as well, which paralleled and intersected the Morlock systems in many places. Down the far corridor would lead to several other larger spaces ahead. Glancing around, Marrow could picture this as a gathering place for a team focused not on pursuing high-minded ideals but, instead, helping those who were leftover after those ideals turned out to be just a dream.
And, obviously, we’ll engage in some light thrashing of bad guys from time to time…
She started to explore the small facility and envision the days ahead.
-fin
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons,
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes.
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us -
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the Meanings are.
None may teach it Any -
'Tis the Seal Despair -
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air -
When it comes, the Landscape listens -
Shadows - hold their breath -
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death.
[Emily Dickinson]
Winter Afternoons,
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes.
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us -
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the Meanings are.
None may teach it Any -
'Tis the Seal Despair -
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air -
When it comes, the Landscape listens -
Shadows - hold their breath -
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death.
[Emily Dickinson]