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Slate

Slate

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TRIGGER WARNING: excessive torture


Hematite looked at the girl, a sense of unease in his stomach. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be part of the hazing ritual– and the girl wasn’t really a girl, she was barely younger than him– but he wasn’t fond of the process. Obsidian was standing behind him, by the door, watching with a blank expression. The woman tied to the chair, whose name was Onyx, had grey hair and grey eyes and had extensive scars on her throat. He knew that was the reason she was mute. He knew all about her history.

“She’s refused to answer the questions. Now you apply the pressure. Give her a reason to want to, alright? Don’t worry, Pearl is currently in residence in the spare rooms upstairs. She might not be able to heal the damage to Onyx’s vocal cords, but she can heal the bruises and damage you’re about to do to her. Now work, Hematite.”

The young black man sighed, shaking out his dreads. He took the cord from his pocket and tied them back, getting them out of his face. Then, he shifted his skin, feeling it turn to steel. It wasn’t real steel, of course, but it’s structure was close enough to call it that. In reality, it had something to do with the iron in his blood and replicating the cells and combining them with other cells in his body. Either way, the effect left his skin shiny and metallic, and just as hard.

He swallowed and looked at her. Onyx was his friend. He had been on the team when they had rescued her. He’d just been a kid then. It had been one of the first things he had done alongside Malachite and Obsidian. It had been the mission he’d been introduced to Rhody on. Maria, his wife. He’d met Onyx then, and they had become fast friends.

That was why what he was about to do was so hard.

He would his arm back and swung, aiming for her cheek where it was the most fleshy. He wanted to hurt her as little as possible while also making it hurt as much as possible. That was what Obsidian had told him. Leave them in good enough condition to speak– or in this case, sign– but make them wish they couldn’t. The strike was true, and his cold, metallic fist connected with her soft cheek. Hematite winced and looked away.

It would have been easier if it wasn’t her.​
 
Hemie was one of her best friends. It's why Onyx didn't hold this against him.

Hemie, however, was a gentleman and she could tell he was trying to take it easy on her. It helped that he seemed to have a bad habit of telegraphing his moves. The moment he pulled his arm back she was prepared, turning her head with the blow so it didn't hurt as much.

It still hurt like a bitch though.

The legs of the chair rattled against the hard ground from the force of the blow, threatening to send Onyx to the floor for a few precarious seconds. Then the chair settled. She could feel a bottom molar come loose, and the taste of blood pool in her mouth. She adjusted herself in her seat, her iron-grey hair falling around her face. The room was cold but that just might have been because all she was wearing was jeans and a camisole, revealing the rattlesnake tattoo coiled up her left arm.

Seven whole years with Slate and just this morning they had jumped her, dragged her here, and tied her to a chair. Her legs and torso were tightly bound, but they had taken care to only secure her upper arms, leaving her hands free. They wanted her to talk after all.

Now the true test was beginning and Onyx more than anything, felt a bit gratified. For all the theater this meant one thing- Obsidian trusted her well enough to put her through this.

Onyx met Hemies eyes with a stoic expression extraordinarily reminiscent of Obsidians. They both knew it would take more to break her.
 
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The hit didn’t phase her, and Hemie smiled a little at her. Onyx was stubborn, strong, and resilient. He knew that she was going to make it through this. And any damage done, Pearl could fix. That was the only reason why he did what he did next. He used one foot to pin one of hers to the ground, and then dragged it forward, stretching out her lower leg.

This was going to suck.

Hematite lifted his other foot and brought it down hard on hers, and he felt rather than heard the snap of her fibula and the crack of her tibia. He swallowed against the horrible jerk he wanted to make, to back away and quickly drop to set her leg. A broken bone wouldn’t kill her, and as long as Pearl had time to mend her within twenty-four hours, Onyx would be fine. All damage, all broken bones and loose teeth, all cuts and bruises, they could all be reversed with pearl on the premise. It was the only reason they were working on her today.

People like Rhody were easier to haze. He’d been there for her hazing, as she had been for his. They were hazed within days of each other. Rhody had healed everything done to her nearly instantaneously. But people like Hematite and Onyx? They had to heal normally, or be healed by metas like Pearl.

He was glad Pearl was here.

Obsidian nodded his head in Hematite’s peripheral. “That’s a good break. Sounds clean. You ready to talk yet, Onyx? You ready to tell us what you know about the upper management of Slate? Names and locations? Identities? It can all end if you just agree.”

Hematite took a half step back, looking down at her with a gentle expression. He really hoped she didn’t shake her head no again.​
 
Onyx stared ahead, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as Hematite pulled her foot into position. The anticipation of pain, she had learned quickly with her time in the Rattlers, was often worse than the pain itself. She kept her eyes on the wall, and her breathing steady, only closing her eyes when Hemie brought his foot down on her vulnerable fibula.

She was still human. Well...mostly human.

Onyx's torso doubled over as far as her bonds would let her, white-hot pain shooting up her leg. Her mouth opened. If she had a voice she might have even cried out. It took a few seconds but she got a hold of herself, and sat back against the chair, steeling herself for what Obsidian would order next. She didn't show it, but she did feel a twinge of guilt toward Hematite. He was a softer soul, and she knew he didn't enjoy beating her.

If anything Onyx wished she could have laughed. They amused her. She focused her attention from Hemie to Obsidian and cocked her head. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say "Really? Talk?"
 
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From the corner of his eye, Hematite saw Obsidian smirk a bit, his face on full display. Their boss– their brother, really– wasn’t bothering to hide his face for this. That was because this was in no way a malicious encounter. It was quite the opposite. After this, Onyx would never be alone again. She would never have to suffer being without someone. She would never have to suffer at the hands of others. With this, her second Sapphire would be promoted to Director of the Minneapolis sect.

Because Onyx was about to become a member of the Pack.

Hematite looked back at Obsidian, awaiting his next order. There was a bit of apprehension in his posture, in his eyes. After all, if Obsidian wanted him to do anything more, he couldn’t imagine what it would be. They’d been at this for a while now. She was missing fingernails, he was pretty sure he’d knocked a tooth loose, and she looked generally very broken, especially with the newly bent leg.

It was with no little amount of relief that Hematite sighed at Obsidian’s next order. “You’ve done what you can. Now, knock her out. We’ll let Lapis take over.”

He turned back to his friend, strapped down to the chair. His eyes traced up her rattlesnake tattoo, the tattoo that Rhody had already begun new designs for, before he met her eyes again. He gave her a small, reassuring smile. In a soft whisper, he breathed out,
“Everything will be fine. You’re doing great.”

Then, in a swift motion, he grabbed the back of her head and yanked it forward, and right into his knee, effectively knocking her out.
​


Lapis smiled as she sat on the chair across from Onyx. She had the back facing the other, younger woman, and was straddling it, a knife in her hands. She’d lost her favorite needlepoint to Min’yo, but she had been gifted a new one as an early Christmas present from Obsidian. This one’s handle was blue, and the knife itself had a chevron pattern in the metal. She twisted it around, the point pressed into a finger. A single drop of blood came to the surface.

She looked up as the young woman shifted, a wicked smile on her face. “Good mooooooooorning, sleeping beauty.~”​
 
Onyx kept staring at the wall, focusing on her breathing. In. And out. In. And out. As long as she could remain in control of her most basic bodily functions they couldn't get her to talk, no matter the blood in her mouth, the stinging pain in her fingers or the horrible pressure in her leg. That made her wince- pressure.

Her leg was fucked. However Obsidian was telling Hemie that he was finished.

Onyx could have scolded Hemie for the praise. That wasn't the point of this little exercise of Obsidians. However, much like the blow he gave her, she could forgive him for the softness toward her.

Then he forced her head violently against his knee and everything went black.

Onyx groaned as she came too. She didn't know how long it had been, only that it had been long enough for her muscles to grow stiff and uncomfortable in her seat. That was another purpose of this initiation- disorientation. Losing a sense of time. She moved her fingers and stretched her body the best she could given the circumstances, before turning her focus to the small woman playing with a knife in front of her.

She wasn't afraid to admit that out of all the Slate members that would come in to torture her she feared Lapis the most. Hemie could break bone, Sulpher could gas her and Obsidian could drain her life with a single touch...but Lapis. Lapis who could disturb something far more ephemeral and intangible. Onyx prided herself on her control over her emotions, her ability to breathe and rationalize her way through difficult moments. She was the steady rock of her team. Unshakable.

Unless someone got in her brain.

And Lapis knew all her insecurities and weaknesses.
 
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Lapis smiled as she stood up from the chair. It was a sharp smile, like an anglerfish, not like any normal person’s smile. It was the smile she had given Leo Vasquez when she had stabbed him through the throat, slowly, with her needlepoint blade. It was the smile that she was now giving Onyx. Like she wanted to eat her alive, like she wanted to tear her thoughts apart, break into her brain and leave her as nothing but a shell.

It was a good thing she couldn’t actually do that.

Instead, she would have to be relegated to messing with her emotions and her sensations. She walked around the chair to stand in front of Onyx, her heels clicking on the concrete floor of the basement. Their “interrogation room” was padded thoroughly with soundproofing, the renovations done by the Pack themselves. Even if Onyx could scream, she wouldn’t have been heard by any of the bargoers overhead.

Lapis took her knife and pressed the tip lightly to Onyx’s shoulder, dragging it slowly as she walked around the woman. This was her favorite part. The unsettling before she began. She knew that Onyx wasn’t going to give her much of what she was looking for, if any, so she wasn’t afraid to crank up the intimidation factor by pressing the knife just hard enough to leave a trail, but not enough to break through the clothing she wore.

“So you tell me this, little necromancer– do you think you’re good enough to be one of us? Do you think you’re good enough to stand at Obsidian’s side and carry out his wishes, like the rest of us do?” She leaned over, bringing herself to eye level with Onyx. “Do you think you’re good enough to replace Malachite, Onyx? To rep[lace our brother?”

As quick as lightning, Lapis reached out with her empty hand and slapped Onyx, channeling shock into the strike. It would be enough to stun any normal person into locking up. Then, she straightened out, and she spun the knife in her hands like it was a baton and not an incredibly sharp blade. “Do you think you’re good enough to play with the big boys?”​
 
Onyx wasn’t bothered by the knife, or Lapis’s dance, her heels echoing across the room as she walked behind her, gliding the knife across her skin and clothes. It didn’t perturb her. Marco had done worse, and it was only when the knife dragged a little too close to Onyx’s neck did she close her eyes and steady herself.

But Mal.

Onyx knew Lapis was only trying to get under her skin, but the comment stung if only because of the truth of it. They needed to replace Malachite. And she could never replace him- be him. No one could.

But sticks and stones and all that. Words were just words, no matter how deeply they cut.

Then the slap. And the shock. Onyx cursed herself. She had braced for the blow but that was secondary to Lapis’s fingers meeting her skin. The shock jolted through her like a shot of epinephrine. It tensed her, and she drew breath in sharply to compensate.

She tilted her head at Lapis.

“Are you?”
 
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The words were barely readable with her hands almost bound. They’d left her just free enough to sign. And as she did, Lapi’s lips curled unpleasantly. She liked Onyx, truth be told. She felt like she’d be a good fit. A good enforcer. A good and trustworthy companion for Obsidian when Rowe wasn’t there. Onyx was one of the few people she would have accepted for the position other than Ame or Smokey. Maybe Pearl. But Onyx? Onyx was the best choice.

That was why when she reached forward and yanked the woman’s hair, pulling her forward, she felt just a touch bad. “What, you think you’re funny? You want to be funny? Try this on for size.”

She channeled bliss into her fingers and smacked her hand into the center of Onyx’s chest. She felt the feeling reverb through her own body, filling her with the dull impression of what she was forcing Onyx to feel. Pure ecstasy.

“Now, isn’t this nice? Isn’t this wonderful? This bubbling well of bliss? You can feel like this forever if you just tell me what I want to know. Where is the Slate safehouse in Philly? Where is Obsidian’s home?”​
 
Onyx grit her sore, bloodied teeth as Lapis pulled her hair, and body forward. Unable to laugh, she smiled faintly. This wasn't funny but most of the time it's easier to laugh than yell. Or cry. Or rage. So on occasion, Onyx did smile at her captor. The small, manic woman who was going to ruin her day.

Onyx could never tell what Lapis was gonna force on people, so the absolute pleasant euphoria was a suprise. She had been expecting pain. Or fear. Or anger. Those almost would have been easier. Her body loosened, and she sank back into the chair, her breathing relaxed and the pain drifting away. Everything was fine. Bright. Happy. Absolutely perfect in every way, and Onyx would have drifted away on that cloud, and given Lapis anythign she wanted, save for one fact.

She didn't trust happy.

The unfamiliarity of such ectsasy focused her, and Onyx set her jaw. If she had been so inclined she might have winked at Lapis, but that wasn't her style. She twisted her wrists and signed, "No."
 
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“No, happiness wouldn’t do it for someone as joyless as you, would it? You’re just a miserable little worm. What would someone like you do with happiness?” As she spoke, Lapis channeled some of her worst memories. She drew on the worst feelings she’d ever had. The sadness, the loneliness, the depression. There had been a time in Lapis’s life when she had been suicidal. She channeled that, pushing it hard into Onyx.

Of course, this meant thinking about him. About the abuse she had gone through in the Blackwood home. She thought about the isolation that Jacob put her through. About the unwanted attention. She wouldn’t make Onyx feel those feelings, no. But they came unbidden to her mind while she channeled the isolation and depression into her.

The reverb in herself was almost as strong as what she was pushing into the other woman. It hurt. Her chest felt like it was caving in. It felt like she was suffocating. It felt like part of her had died again. She took a deep breath to avoid the overwhelming feeling of despair and hopelessness. And then she pushed again, harder.

“You don’t deserve happiness. Maybe you deserve to always feel this way. You should tell me what you know. I can take the pain away for you.”​
 
It had been a long time since Onyx wanted to die. There had only been a handful of times she could really definitively say she would have preferred death.

The first was when she realized she was going to live, and Janie wasn't. And for a moment Susanna found herself back underneath the bridge, on the ground as her friend's dead glassy eyes stared back at her, bleeding out from her neck. Then the brush of fingers on her cheek and the world came back into focus, and she stopped coughing up blood. She would be fine.

And Janie hadn't come back.

The crushing grief and loneliness crushed Onyx in a way she had never felt- never allowed herself to feel before. Old wounds ripped open. Years of suppressed pain came down on her like a broken dam. Her broken leg and missing nails were nothing compared to this. How could anyone possibly live feeling like this all the time. She wanted to rip it out her heart from her throat and let it all be over.

But almost worse than that was the...paranoia? That wasn't the right, but there wasn't quite a word for feeling like you were constantly living in the sights of a sniper rifle. Or always being watched through a camera by something soft and sinister, knowing a single wrong move would bring crushing retribution

It took a few moments for Onyx to breathe again. When her lungs finally regained their natural rhythm she slumped in the chair, tired and defeated looking. It had been a long time since someone had managed to do that to her.

I can't. I can't. I can-

I have and I will.
 
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For a moment, Lapis thought she had won. Onyx had slumped in her chair, and that was usually the moment when they broke. She’d found the right trigger for her, and now she could gloat to Hemie about how his friend wasn’t as strong as he thought she was. But, after a moment, her hands were still still. She wasn’t conceding. Lapis frowned at that and crossed her arms. That was surprisingly resilient.

It was then that the blue-haired woman noticed that she was crying. Not Onyx, but herself. She quickly wiped her hands across her face. Thinking about Jacob always did that to her. It was one of those deep-set pains she had never really gotten past. One of the ones that Obsidian had offered her multiple times an escape from. A hunt to cure the feelings inside her. She had denied him multiple times, but standing there in that room, looking down at Onyx’s slumped form, she felt, for just a moment, that the other woman might understand.

Maybe they could talk later. Who knew.

“Fine. You’re strong, I’ll give you that. Let’s try one last thing, shall we? When was the last time that you were afraid, Onyx? When was the last time you really questioned your safety?”

A gentle touch, stroking the other woman’s cheek. And then she flattened her hand against the woman’s cheek and pumped her full of fear and paranoia. She felt the reverb in herself and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from showing it. The reverb was her biggest weakness when it came to this. She could only do so much without feeling the effects of her power herself.​
 


Onyx looked up at Sherry, grinning, able to discern that the other woman had been crying. A testament to her own victory. Sherry couldn't even torture her without hurting herself. However, something in Lapis's eyes stirred sympathy with her- an unspoken connection between people who had experienced similar pain. Her grin faltered but never faded. She'd ask Hemie to check on Lapis later.


I've battled hard with the face in the mirror
Every scar makes me dig down deeper
Push it 'til there's nothin' more
'Cause I'm stronger than I was before​

Onyx pulled away the best she could from Lapis. She'd spent years controlling her emotions, learning to overcome her fear and her pain. She was stronger than her fear, but Lapis's touch might be enough to unsettle her. She had never let Lapis touch her in experimentation- or touch her period. It was the same with Pearl- she didn't like being messed with. But Lapis still made contact with her skin.


It's time to stand up, stand up
Show me what you're made of
Hands up, hands up
Fight the fear
Fight the fear
Rise up from the ground
Gonna make you a believer​


But fear, much like pain, was familiar. The fear of being in the same room as someone who repeatedly slashed into her throat. The fear of making the wrong move- even thinking the wrong thing. It caught her off guard, it had been so long since she had such a visceral response to fear. Onyx squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, reminding herself it wasn't real. Marco wasn't here. Tyler wasn't here. No one was going to do all the things she had long since stopped caring had happened.

Fight the fear
Fight the fear
Blood, sweat, tears
Make the pain taste sweeter​

Susanna hadn't been Susanna for a long time. She was Onyx now. An unbreakable rock to the world around her, and most certainly harder than Lapis fucking Lazuli.
 

There was a strength behind Onyx’s eyes. It was the kind of strength that told Lapis she was defeated. There was nothing she hated more than being defeated, but still, she sighed as the tension left her shoulders. Tension she hadn’t been aware she’d been carrying until that exact moment. Lapis took in a deep breath and let it out in a smile, her eyes reflecting something undefinable. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was resignation. Maybe it was a bit of both. She placed a hand on Onyx’s shoulder- and did nothing.

The touch was soft. Without her powers behind it, her hands were small and gentle. She ran the hand across Onyx’s shoulder and up to her face, which she touched as light as a butterfly. Her hand hovered rather than actually touched, but the presence was there.

“Good. Maybe you’ll make it through. Maybe you’re what we need.” She murmured the words silently, her lips barely moving.

Obsidian was the one who gave the names to everyone he met. If you got a name, it was either from him, or someone on upper staff. Lapis had been there when they broke up and decimated the Rattlers. She’d been there when Obsidian had taken Onyx– Susanna– and pulled her out of that mess. She’d been there when he had offered her sanctuary. And she’d been there when he named her anew Onyx.

Obsidian chose names carefully. Lapis was Lapis because the stone was said to enlighten the mind and lead to self-awareness. She was named Lapis because it was the brightest blue pigment, and he thought she embodied the color blue, because she was shot through with veins of gold. She was named Lapis, because even though she tried to be harsh and sexy and the epitome of the things everyone wanted, he knew the truth. She was soft. She was soft and she felt things hard and deep.

Authenticity.

Willpower.

Wisdom.

That was what Lapis meant.

Onyx was one of the strongest rocks in the world. It was a rock that meant protection, that meant harmony, that meant defense. It was the rock most closely associated with the practice of seances and the cycle of rebirth. It brought vigor, strength, stamina, and self-control. Lapis had looked onyx up extensively. She knew the meaning behind all their names.

Maybe Onyx would live up to her name after all.

Lapis pressed her hand to Onyx’s face and channeled drowsiness, restfulness, and sleep. “Rest for now. You’re going to need it.”​
 
Onyx braced herself for Lapis’s next attack, but she didn’t flinch as the woman cupped her face with her small hand.

and nothing came.

Onyx exhaled in relief, and met Lapis’s eyes again. It was almost as if Lapis was giving her blessing that she could join the Pack. Even if she never could wholly replace Jasper.

“I’ll always make it through,” Onyx signed.

It was the last thing before Lapis sent her off to peaceful sleep.

God, she was tired.
 

It used to be, Rhodonite sparred with Malachite. She was the only one who took the hits and kept coming. She healed no matter what he did. Fractures would heal in minutes, bruises never came, and she was fast enough to outpace him. There were times when he hadn’t been able to keep up with her. She liked to fight. She liked to spar. It gave her back some control and she liked to use it as an outlet for some of her anger.

What she didn’t like was sitting in front of a friend tied to a chair with the intent to hurt them. Nothing about this brought her joy. That was why, when Onyx finally opened her eyes again, Rhody wasn’t smiling. Her normally soft and gentle face was marked by a flat expression. Her eyes which normally danced with light were almost reflective in their emptiness. She tilted her head slightly to the side, and a stray hair from her bun trailed down to her shoulders.

“I’m sorry about what is about to happen. But there’s no changing this. There’s nothing I can do to prevent it. And there’s nothing that can save you from it. I am going to do everything I can to break you, Susanna. I’m going to hurt you. For that, I am truly sorry.”

With that, the woman stood, knives appearing in her hands from seemingly nowhere. She spun them around her thumbs and then grasped them tightly. They were small things, and, if Onyx knew anything about knives, she would recognize them for what they were. Flaying knives. Knives that were designed to remove the flesh from the body. They were wicked sharp, and as Rhody took a deep breath, she looked Susanna over, as if deciding where to start.​
 
Onyx didn't know how long they had let her sleep, but like before they let wake up on her own- groggy and discombobulated. She blinked a few times and it took a certain of self-control to keep her face from contorting in pain. The pressure in her leg was getting bad. The bone needed to be set.

But that had to wait.

She liked Rhodanite- Less than Hemie, but much more so than Lapis. Under any other circumstance, she would have greeted the woman a bit more warmly. Now, she only glared.

Why was everyone apologizing to her? They all knew what this was. Why this was demanded of her- why it was nessesary even. The Pack couldnt welcome in things that were easily broken, and even with her history they had to be certain. And like with Hematite, Onyx wouldn't hold this against Rhodey.

Onyx eyed the knives as they appeared in Rhodeys hands, and if she imagined them as paintbrushes, Rhodeys skill with them would be akin to Caravaggio's. And Onyx was about to become a fucking canvas.
 
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With slow and methodical steps, Rhody started to circle Onyx. She took a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh. She had specific instructions, and she would fulfill them. So when she stood behind the woman, she made her first strike. With the balde turned slightly down so it would peel her skin, she struck her blade across the other woman’s shoulders, from one to the other. It split right through her clothes and skin, as sharp as the blades were.

She watched as the first row of blood speckled into existence and then flooded down her back. It soaked through the olive green camisole she was wearing, staining it dark. She leaned in close and whispered to Onyx, “Do you feel that? Your skin splitting from your body? Your blood running down your skin? I’m going to do that to your entire body. Piece by piece, I’m going to take you apart. Unless you tell me what you know about the San Diego Slate sect and where their safe house is.”

She placed her hand against the wound and pressed, hard, turning the skin down so her hand touched the severed flesh. She hissed out, “This could be over now. No more pain. No more hurting. I won’t stop until you give in, Susanna.”

Slowly and with more force than needed, she pushed off and kept circling. Her shoes made the softest clicking on the ground as she walked around her, head tilted up and a frown etched deep into her face. But those friendly eyes were so cold, so empty, that it was impossible to know what she was feeling or thinking.​
 
Onyx didn't like when Rhodey walked behind her, where she couldn't see. She liked to keep her eyes on the enemy- especially when she was tied down, unable to move. She closed her eyes, but blocking out the light doesn't block the pain.

Onyy grit her teeth as Rhodeys blade pierced her skin. She'd been stabbed before. Cut before. It wasn't until Rhodanite drew the blade across her back, and through her shirt, flaying the skin off her back that her mouth opened, and her body contorted as far as her bonds would allow.

But she didn't scream.

Onyx couldn't scream.

A faint, horrible rasp escaped her mouth, but that was it. Onyx gripped the edges of her bike shorts, trying to hold on to something- anything. She could feel the blood soaking into the frayed edges of her skirt, seeping down her back. Then the air hit her back, enflaming it like a thousand bee stings. For a moment that was all she she could feel.

Until Rhodey pressed her hand against her raw flesh.

Onyx jolted forward, the violent rasps coming from her mouth again, the chair wobbling in midair, almost tumbling forward for a second time.
 
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