Closed RP Welcome, Onyx

This RP is currently closed.

Onyx was reeling from Rhody’s attack, and honestly, so was she. She swallowed hard while maintaining the cold bitch stare. She had a part to play in this show, and she wasn’t going to back down, despite her husband’s friendship with the woman. She hadn’t backed down on Hematite either, when it had been his time, and he had taken her blades without a word. Onyx would do the same. She would withstand it. She would make it.

It was with that thought in mind that she flipped the blade in her right hand and dragged a long line down Onyx’s left arm. It sliced cleanly through and separated the skin on the outside of her forearm from the rest. Like before, blood poured from the wound, dripping down her arm and onto her bike shorts. She steeled herself against wincing. She couldn’t show weakness during this, or further sympathy than she already had. Onyx wouldn’t appreciate it, and it wasn’t what Obsidian expected of her.

Rhodonite knew she had gotten her name for her compassion, her kindness, and her unconditional love. She knew that her name was as much a strength as it was a weakness. She couldn’t show those weaknesses during hazings. Especially not one as important as this. A Pack hazing. The upper management hazing was considerably kinder than this. It was a simple interrogation and a probationary period- nothing like this. Nothing like this level of torture. But it was vital that the Pack be only the strongest of Slate.

And Onyx would be that strong. She had to be.

So it was with no joy that Rhody wrapped her hand tight around the open flesh, squeezing it. “Susanna! Tell me what I want to know! Spare yourself the pain and the trouble and just end this!”​
 

Before Susanna could even collect herself from the previous attack, Rhodey struck again, this time where Onyx could see. The knife split her skin open neatly, exposing flesh and blood dripping down onto her thighs.

Onyx bit down on her tongue. She was denied the catharsis of screaming, and normally she compensated by not showing emotion at all. She didn’t feel too deeply to begin with.

But all the pain had to go somewhere, and so when Rhodey gripped her fresh wound, making the mistake of leaning in too close, Onyx lashed out, throwing her head against Maria’s face.
 
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The headbutt connected solidly, and Rhody felt her nose crack. She backed up, a hand going to her nose to reset it as fast she could, before it had the chance to heal wrong. With another sharp crack, the break realigned and she took in a deep breath. She pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and blew the blood out of her nose as she turned back to the other woman. The bruises around her nose already had progressed to deep blues and purples as she smiled approvingly.

She took a step forward and grabbed a handful of her hair to hold her head in place. She had to pull out her big guns, and she knew this wouldn’t go well. Either Onyx would freak and hurt herself and they’d have to stop early, or she would shut down completely. Rhody was about to trigger something deep. “Alright. If that’s how you want this to go–”

She turned her knife gently, holding it almost flat against her throat. Then, she tilted it ever so slowly, pressing the sharp end to her throat. Someone with less grace and confidence than Rhody would have cut Onyx’s throat open, splitting something vital. But Rhody was an expert. She dragged it slowly and steadily across Onyx’s throat, splitting just the outer layers of skin, causing a rush of blood to seep down. She did it right below the woman’s scars.

Obsidian himself had asked Rhody to do this. To trigger that deep fear and the feelings that had come about from the years with the Rattlers. He had to make sure. He had to make sure she was truly unbreakable like the rest of them.​
 
The moment Rhodey pressed her blade to Susanna's neck, she didn't even have time to register that her friend, one of the Pack that saved her, would do something like this. There was only the creaking of steps as a man walked down them, and a silky voice singly softly.

Oh, Susanna
Don't you cry for me
​

"Has our little puppetmaster agree'd to start working with us?" Marco asked lightly, leaning against the doorway. "I'd hate to ask again."

Wes shook his head bitterly, "Not yet."

Susanna cringed away from Marco, but she knew there was no escape. Ever since they had brought her to the house almost two weeks ago, her life had been the four walls of the small basement, cuffed to an exposed copper pipe wearing nothing but a t-shirt and and boxer shorts. And him. And pain. And blood. And pain.

And her friends dead corpse lying 10 feet away, wrapped in a plastic tarp.

I had a dream the other night
When everything was still
I thought I saw Susanna
Coming down the hill
​
Marco crouched down near Susanna with a "Tsk." He wrung his hands together apologetically, before Wes handed him a "It's not a hard thing we're asking for. We all kow what we saw and we'd just like to make sure you can do it again."

Susanna shook her head, opening her mouth desperately but she hadn't yet become accustomed her lack of voice. She couldn't do it- she wouldn't do it. Even with a broken kneecap and carpenters nails driven under several fingernails. And the raging concussion and rainbow of briuses across her body from Wes's crowbar.

"Shhh, Susanna..." Marco said gently, brushing his soft fingers against her cheek, wiping away the tears that came without her permission. Marcos presence always meant pain. She didn't pull away from his touch. That only made things worse. "I can take all this pain from you...I can make it go away. You think I want to hurt you? No, this is what Tyler wants." Susanna choked back a silent sob as Marco carefully pulled out one of the nails. The ache in her knee subsided. "Let me help you, Susanna. I hate seeing you cry."

A buckwheat cake was in her mouth
A tear was in her eye
I said, I'm coming from Dixieland
Susanna, don't you cry​


Susanna shook her head, begging.

Marco sighed and unsheathed a serrated blade. Susanna balked kicking at Marco, like a spooked horse, and the handcuff rattled against the pipe. He grit his teeth and knelt hard on her ankle, before sliding the jagged edges of the blade against her throat, until she choked on her own blood as she gasped for air. The gasping made the pain worse, as her torn flesh stretched with every cough and gag.

Susanna went weak, slumping over as her carotid bled out, praying this was the end.

A single kiss on her forehead brought her back, and there was a moment of relief where she could breathe again. And the pain was gone. Marco's face came back into focus just in time for her to watch the knife pierce her throat again.

Oh, Susanna
Don't you cry for me​

As Rhodey worked, and blood poured down Onyxs front, she would see something in her eyes die. Like a light gone out. She didn't move. She didn't scream. She was just...there.

Onyx didn't even cry.
 

Rhody walked around to the front of Onyx, another harsh demand on her lips– until she saw Onyx’s eyes. There was no one home. Shutting down was a self-defense mechanism, one that Rhody had been worried about triggering. It didn’t disqualify her, but god did she feel a pang of guilt. Onyx was Hemie’s best friend, and a friend of her own. This felt dirty, wrong, and she hadn’t wanted to do it in the first place. She got low in front of Onyx and waved her hand in front of the woman’s face.

No response.

She sighed softly and stood, walking over to the table behind her where the first aid kit was. She carefully started bandaging the wounds, making sure that she didn’t bleed out. Onyx didn’t so much as flinch as Rhody gently pressed the peeled skin back into place before taping it up with gauze and ace bandages. She bit her lower lip as she did, trying to be as careful as possible. Malachite had taught her first aid like this about a year after they had rescued her from the organ harvesting ring that had held her hostage.

With slow movements and a careful eye, she finished just as memories of her own initiation flashed through her mind. They’d made Malachite carefully and surgically remove pieces of her, the way she’d been subjected to for all those years. She had shut down then too, the same as Onyx was now. But it was better to shut down than to break. She walked around to the front of Onyx. It was almost over. They had decided to forgo Sulphur since Onyx couldn’t talk. All that was left was Obsidian himself.

Obsidian wasn’t fun, but this? This was the real test, and in Rhody’s mind, Onyx was Pack now.

“Good luck, Onyx.”​


Obsidian was finishing putting together his folders when she stirred. The first half of his test was easy, in his opinion. But it could be hard for those who cared deeply. It could be difficult to sell out your friends for this. But it was a sign of deep commitment. The second part?

Well, that was where things got rough.

“Wake up, Onyx. Let’s finish this, shall we?”​
 
Marco wasn't a one trick pony, and his torture extended far beyond the banality of throat slashing. Susanna was brought back again and again from the brink of death- an irony given her powers. Thats what Marco always said anyway- her way was death and he was life. At the very least he kept her alive no matter how badly he managed to hurt her.

In the end She broke. She didn't remember how long it took. Days maybe. And Marco smiled, pulling back the tarp over Janies body. Susanna, still chained to the pipe, moved her hands willing Janie to stir.

Her best friend sat up and stared at her with glassy eyes. If she hadn't been dead, Susanna could have sworn she looked betarayed.

Wake up, Onyx. Let's finish this, shall we?

Onyx gasped listlessly, trying to reach for her throat, but as expected she was still tied down. She calmed down, taking a breath and realizing her throat, and most of of her other wounds, had been bandaged. It was hard to focus through the pain but she managed to give Obsidian her attention. Even covered in blood and tortured to hell Onyx would at least do that. It was a matter of pride. That no one would ever break her again.
 

“Good. Look at you. You’ve come so far. You certainly have promise. Now then, let’s talk, shall we? Or rather, I’ll talk, and you’ll listen.” As he spoke, he started to flip each of the folders open, facing Onyx. Inside were documents and photos. Documents with names, documents with addresses, and documents with family members' names. He sighed almost blissfully as he pushed them toward her, one after the other. And attached to each photo was a single photo.

Photos that Onyx would know.

Sapphire. Bismuth. Red Agate. Peridot. All of the team from Minneapolis, where Onyx had been stationed. Her team. They were dossiers of them, with everything you could imagine. Every detail about their lives, personal and non.

“Listen to me, Onyx. There’s a price to being part of the Pack. That price is giving up everything in your life. That price is giving up your people. That price is a lifetime of being one of us. Your friends, your family– you leave them behind. You never look back. And if you do, then there will be nothing for you to look back on, because I will destroy everything you hold dear.”

He paused for a moment, his face caught in a soft, slight smile. He tapped the photo of Sapphire, his gloved hand barely touching the photo. As he spoke, he tapped each photo individually. “She’s your second, right? Flighty little thing. We'll take her apart, piece by piece, in tiny strokes. We’ll make you watch as we do it. Peridot, now she’s trickier. But locking her in a room by herself for weeks should be enough to break her. She’s a soft thing, after all. Good with people, but not very strong though.”

“Red Agate is easy enough. His echolocation is easy enough to fuck with. Put him in a room with several sound makers, some loud music, and he’ll crack just like an egg. Bismuth, they’re a bit tougher, aren’t they? They’re made of stronger stuff than the others. But not everyone is as immune to Lapis as you are. I think introducing them, well, that would be fun.” His smile was sharp by the time he finished. He gestured wide to the photos as he leaned back in his chair.

“Are you really willing to watch your friends die? Are you really willing to put their lives at risk? Or are you going to back down? Protect them? After all, that’s what a good team leader would do, isn’t it? Protect her people.”​
 
It took Onyx a moment to realize what was going on. She blinked, and it sank in the longer she stared at Obsidians dossier's. The photos.

Priya. Beau. Jason. Carly.

Peridot. Aggie. Bismuth. Sapphire.

Onyx wasn't sentimental by any means, but she did care about her team. She might expect a lot from them, become uncompromising or be to much of a hardass. But she cared. She kept them alive. She kept them alive because she coudn't keep Janie alive. She weilded them like a sword against gangs, meta-haters and the worst of humanity but she was their shield.

Susanna had promised Janie she wouldn't break again after she had joined Slate.


Onyx took a deep breath, and regarded Obsidian, casually threatening what she had built, and what good she had done. All in his name too. She leaned back into the chair and gestured for him to untie her hands so she could "speak".

It had been Susanna who made that promise.
 
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She wanted to speak. Obsidian smiled lazily at her and sighed softly. He stood, slowly, taking his time. He pulled free a knife from his belt, just under his suit jacket. As he walked, he twirled the knife in his hands. The smile on his face, and his easy steps, almost made it seem like he was going to use the knife on her, and not to free her hands. But, when he finally reached her, he did slip the knife between her skin and the ropes and tugged, sawing away.

Unbeknownst to Onyx, Obsidian would never actually hurt her old team. They had been good for the organization, and Sapphire would be a good location Director with Onyx joining the Pack. He did think that Red Agate was soft, and that Peridot could stand to drop the act. But they were a good team. They worked well together. They had developed a family structure, which was the point of being part of Slate in the first place. This organization was meant to connect metas who wanted to work for a better future for their people.

And having such loyal metas under him was what made everything they did possible. Backing meta-favoring politicians in the cities they were in, controlling gang violence, reducing and containing drug trade and illegal arms– it was all for something. And those who served the greater good, those in Slate, they were people that Ethan, as well as Obsidian, was proud of. Even the meta-favoring humans who were there for their families and friends made him proud. He was proud of what he had built and the metas he’d helped through all of this.

He’d be a fool to attack any of his own without cause. Sure, he’d had to handle a few problems in the past, and he was sure he would in the future too. But then, every good cause had problem people.

He finished cutting Onyx’s hands free and stood a little back. She was now free up to her mid-bicep, with the exception of her waist being bound. She had more than enough space to “talk”. “Alright, Onyx. Let’s hear it.”​
 
Onyx wasn't a flinchy person, but even she kept a wary eye on Obsidian's knife after what Rhody did to her. Her neck was still ungodly painful and raw. She never had to live with the aftermath of her injuries. At least not long, or unless it was something specific Tyler wanted her to live with. A lesson. This...this was agony.

But Onyx closed her eyes as Obsidian sawed at the ropes and her wrists were free. Her waist and ankles were still bound, keeping her in place, but she could sign.

Onyx didn't bother. Her steely grey eyes met Obsidians, and she didn't break contact as she tore off her forearm bandage with her teeth, and dipped her fingers in the blood underneath.

And drew a single X over her teams faces, one by one.
 
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The moment of silence following Onyx’s drawing was palpable. Obsidian tilted his head and watched as her fingers moved, crossing out all the faces of her team, her family. It was a surprising development. He’d never had someone be so committed that they had said, in so many words or lack thereof, “kill them”. He swallowed softly in surprise and then, his face slowly went from neutral to a slow smile, a smile that broke into a wide grin.

And he laughed.

He laughed as he walked around the table, circling it like a shark. “I’ll be honest– that’s not what I was anticipating. You don’t care at all? Or you’re just that strong? Either way, that’s a good answer. The best one you could have given. Normally people try to call it a bluff or beg for me to leave their loved ones alone. You see, people’s hearts are really how you get to them.”

He stepped around behind her and placed both his hands on her shoulders, letting out a deep sigh. This was the part that usually cracked people. People loved one another. They needed to. A person with no one wasn’t healthy. People were meant to have a community. A family. Very few people were genuinely willing to give up their homes and loved ones. Their bodies? Sure, they could deal with that.

But never their loved ones.

She had passed, in Obsidian’s mind. What the others had done to her was enough. But still, there was one last thing. And as he dug his hands tightly into her shoulders, he took a breath in and pulled. The icy paralytic would set in almost immediately, and the chilling cold would settle over her bones. And he pulled on her already frigid and still energy. It filled him with images of still, dead things. He could feel it in his body. It was energy, it just wasn’t alive, in a sense. It settled in him in a way that almost felt like it was net neutral rather than positive. It took as much as it gave, to his senses. He felt the trembling in his hands that indicated he was taking, but that didn’t stop it from feeling wrong.

“tell me, Onyx, are you really not afraid to die?”​
 
Onyx knew when it came down to the wire- Obsidian didn't bluff.

She raised her shoulders painfully into a shrug, aggravating her flayed back. What did he want? Begging? No. Onyx didn't beg. Not anymore. She stayed silent even as he walked around her and laid his hands on her shoulders, and Onyx tensed- she generally didn't like being touched by anyone, even the Pack- but as quickly as she did, she froze in place.

Onyx had seen Obsidian at work. She'd been there when he had decimated the Rattlers- killing people with a touch, and with ease no less. Marco had called her death. Onyx's necromancy was a pale imitation compared to what Obsidian could induce.

She could feel her life leaving her. Not just her energy, not just consciousness- her life. Obsidians fingertips leeched it out of her, sucking in her life like a black hole. An endless abyss.

Tell me, Onyx. Are you really not afraid to die?

Susanna could have laughed.

Death and her were old friends.
 
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Just as quickly as he had pulled the life from her, he flooded it back in. Within him, it changed from the icy and empty thing it had been to something just a touch warmer, and far more electric. Energy that circulated through Obsidian quickly became charged, like an electric current from the wall. It became sharp and buzzing and while not exactly warm, sharp in a way that left you burnt. He’d only ever had it described to him, the feeling of being shocked full of energy. It didn’t feel like taking felt.

“You’re so brave, Onyx. You’re strong. But are you willing to give everything for our cause? For the betterment of us all? You’re replacing Malachite on my team. My brother. And he gave himself for us. Are you willing to make the same choice? Are you really?”

As soon as he felt his energy balance back out, he took his hands off her and walked around. He would have to do that transfer at least once more, just to make sure it was fair. But he wanted to see her face as he spoke to her. He wanted to see the movement of her hands and hear what she had to say. He knew he would find no weakness there, but her answer would speak volumes. Bringing anyone on to replace Malachite had been such a hard choice, after all.

It was only fair he wanted to make sure she’d be as devoted and as close as the rest of the Pack were.​
 
Onyx gasped sharply as cold electricity shot through her veins worse than a shot of adenosine. Her lungs wanted to explode as she was violently forced back from the brink.

Speaking of Mal somehow hurt worse. Onyx didn't pride herself on attachments or sentimentality, but...he had been a brother. Someone she respected. Someone she might even allow herself to miss.

Ethan knew she could never replace Jasper.

Onyx listened to Obsidians words, sitting with them for a moment. He, of all people, doubted her? Her resolve. Her dedication to his cause to which she had given everything. Her penance and absolution all in the calling he had given her.

"When have I given anything less?"
 
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He leaned over her, his hands wrapping around her wrists as he did so. He studied her face, looked into her eyes. There was still that unending resolve in her eyes. She would never be Malachite, no. She would never be the shield that protected them from everything. She would never be the cheerful, loud, happy presence that he was. But the Pack had changed. The Pack didn’t need that right now. They needed a rock. They needed someone to keep them strong.

And Onyx could be that.

“You’re right. You’ve never given less. You’ve never given anything less than everything you are. Commendable. Inspiring. A force unstoppable. That’s the words that your old team used for you. That’s what they described you as.” As he spoke, he pulled again, taking that wrong energy into himself. And as he continued, he sent it spiraling right back into her, bringing her back from the edge once more. This time he gave more, and more, until he was sure that her heart was close to exploding.

“I want you to continue doing that. I want you to continue to be someone who gives everything, because everyone in this Pack gives everything they are. We would all die for each other. We would all die for this cause. We would all die to protect what Slate stands for. So now you’re going to do the same. You’re going to be someone that the rest of the organization looks up to. You’re going to be someone who leads. Remember that.”​
 
Onyx disliked when people touched her in general, but especially when they grabbed her hands or wrists. It not only sent a flash of instinctual but well-controlled panic through her, but it took her voice from her. Her only means of speaking. She let him though, and once more she felt her life leave her. Her willpower and energy.

If she gave much thought to the care of souls, she might have said Obsidian was capable of taking that too.

And as soon as death came near, Onyx screamed soundlessly, thrashing in the chair for a few moments as a deep pressure and pain built up in her chest as if she would burst. She could barely understand what he was saying, but she caught the gist of it.

Once the feeling subsided, Susanna met Ethans eyes. There wasn't just adrenaline and pain- but grief. The deep kind where acceptance and bargaining mixed together.

She missed Jasper. She knew there was no replacing him. She knew no one wanted to do that, and she knew Ethan didn't intend it either. Malachites time had passed, and the laughter he brought would echo for longer than they might like.

She was the silence that followed.
 
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The grief in Onyx’s eyes resonated through Obsidian and found its way into Ethan. The man who had lost his brother. It dug deep beneath his skin and buried itself in the place where his soul might be if he had one. Ethan believed in souls. He knew that everyone had one, that it was the sparks of life at the very end before he ended someone. He knew the feeling of it. He knew that warmth, that gentle warmth, that came with every soul that he claimed.

That was why he wasn’t sure if he had one in his cold, empty body.

But Onyx had one. Onyx had a soul, and there was grief within it. This mute, but no less sharp and intelligent, woman had a soul that was crying out the way he knew his would be if he had one. He raised a hand gently to her cheek, letting go of her arms. Then, in a surprising display of gentleness, Ethan leaned forward and touched his forehead to Susanna’s.

“Welcome to the Pack, Susanna.”

From behind her, there was sudden movement and clapping, and the sound of voices. All the voices she had already encountered that night.

“Way to go, Onyx! I knew you could do it!” Hematite stepped forward around her, a knife in his hands as he started to cut her free.

“You did well. Good job.” Rhodonite stepped around as well, a soft smile on her face, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Yeah, I guess you did alright. Welcome to the family.” Despite the fact that Lapis didn’t step forward, and her tone was sarcastic, there was a hint of warmth to it that showed she was truly proud of the woman. Ethan pulled back then, as Hematite started to cut the ropes, and stepped back toward the wall, a small, approving smile on his face.​
 
Susanna choked back a single sob as Ethan gently rested his forehead against hers. He and Mal had saved her, and she allowed herself a moment to share that pain with Ethan for their lost brother.

And then she breathed.

And then she was Onyx again.

She was in too much pain to laugh or smile in celebration with the others, but managed a single nod as she exhaled. As soon as Hematite had finished cutting her from the chair she reached out for him, a rare gesture, but Onyx knew she was beyond standing on her own. And with a swell of pride and warmth, she realized she would never need too ever again. That's what it meant to exist as a member of a Pack.
 
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