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fightagainstthedark​:

It was unbearable, until–

Susette felt fragile, brittle, stiff and wet, meat and bone. Silver poured from her, blood in a way foreign to a volph as it flowed, and flowed, and flowed. She had felt this before, this suffocating, agonizing mortality, had sawed and cut and mangled her way free of the collar that bound her in skin. Now there was nothing to fight against but an encroaching, all-consuming weakness as she was violently snuffed out.

The vaporvolph called Susette felt the body she was in die, and then felt nothing at all after that.

It was only then, when she was a ruined, stupid mess of liquid starlight and gore, that power returned to her. The effects were miraculous as they were instantaneous. Her form vanished in a rush of oxygen to fill a vacuum and a blast of heat as her reformation violently displaced that same air.

The long-snouted volph with galaxies in her neon-edged fur upended the large Grey with the suddenness of her return. Teeth indistinguishable from blacklit voids sank deep into the Grey’s neck and stayed there, pressing deeper and deeper until they met, Susette’s scream of agony and fury muffled in their dying mortal flesh.

Mm. There. The chills faded as quick as they'd come (and what a relief; she didn't need that weakness *lingering*). Lorna's foot tapped, slowly, as Susette finally began to handle things. The Greys' tugging faded as their comrade let loose their final, enraged scream, and it was then that Lorna brushed them off and approached the field.

"Can you leave it?" She tapped a finger on the side, slowly, testing it. A small fizzing light bloomed under her fingertip, then around as it sank through the field and met a weighty resistance that dragged it down. She pulled her finger free. Brown eyes flicked back to Susette, seemingly uncaring of the mess that remained.

fightagainstthedark​:

Susette’s thoughts came sporadically as her skull impacted the ground, and she could spare little time for the relief that this was happening to her and not Lorna, or the fear that this was permanent–not even not-so-old memories of collars and punishments. All she had was literal bone-crushing pain and the need to turn the tide.

Her strength was outmatched. The gravity field put the one on top at a supreme advantage. But Susette wasn’t dead like a human would be, even with the terrifying vision of her head crushed. She wasn’t dead, and that meant this Grey would stay focused on her.

Hands weren’t pinned while the Grey had hold of her skull, and so they dove for every weakpoint Susette knew of–solar plexus, throat, tender joints–hitting as hard as she could without windup. She abandoned care for her limbs as it was already too late and everything was pain. If her finger bones went awry in a messy fight, it couldn’t hurt more.

She’d dig through this Grey’s chest to their heart if she must.

Lorna had had *enough* of these rogue Greys and their shrieking. She had the Grey pinned under her arm and the device in her hand (no knobs, no screen, what kind of fucking thing *was* this) and was about to finish this (cuff them; nothing so dramatic) when the other two Greys rushed her and began dragging at her arms.

No. They weren't rushing her, nor were they dragging, not in the sense of beings trying to free their comrade from an enemy combatant as best and pathetically as they could. No, Greys without leadership were frightened and unsure and right now, these weren't  urging her to let go but to look. Not that should would have needed their attention to notice when the enraged Grey confined with Susette gave a scream. (The petty part of Lorna still lingering flashed forward: were they anywhere more populated, covering that scream would have been a nightmare.)

Point being. Lorna looked up from the cuffs she was securing the Grey with in time to see the oversized Grey—what had been *done* to them; it was as natural as the large Grey was under control—scream as they raised the vaporvolph's head and slammed it into the pavement.

Again.

Again.

The gravity field was already difficult to navigate, and the pain-without-end had addled Susette’s judgment. So when the musclebound Grey hit her, she was not expecting to hit the ground with such force, or to hear bones crack. From where? She couldn’t tell when everything felt like a shattered nerve.

She’d lived through this before, though. Volph collars had prevented phasing, and rapid healing, and she’d suffered and survived plenty of times. Her powers would come back eventually, and everything would be fine. For now, she had to keep this brute occupied. If they could reach Lorna, the mortal could suffer irreparable damage.

Human-shaped fingers pressed into pallid flesh that was far too uniform in color and texture, searching for tender places. Greys didn’t always have the same makeup as other humanoids, vital organs occasionally wandering where they shouldn’t be, and Susette was fighting a gravity field that was pressing their bulk into her. Worse, it was all she could do to pin their arms to their side as they tried to pummel her senseless.

Fuck it.

The phrase that lanced through her brain was far more foreign than the action inspired, though sinking her teeth into someone’s shoulder was far more effective when she could shape them into fangs. From the Grey’s dismayed howl, they likely didn’t appreciate the difference.

[[SUMMARY since it’s been a hot minute: Su & Lorna are looking for Kresnik and come across some Greys illegally taking samples from Jess. A gravity field is activated by a Grey controlling it telepathically; Lorna deactivates their powers to prevent further meddling, even though this traps a human-form & vulnerable Su in the field with a mutated, uncomfortably muscled alien.]] 

No, they didn't. Nor did they respond with anything as thoughtful as Susette's calculations. Unnaturally muscled arms latched onto the Regulator's head and *pulled* wrenching her clamped jaw by force before slamming her, facedown, into the concrete.

Lorna rushed one of the smaller Greys. What could they do but run, with both odd powers and technology disabled? The smallest of the trio shrieked, an echoing, almost *chittering* sound, as she made impact, knocking a device from their hand.

There weren't good solutions, were there? Let their powers return, lose their one advantage. Leave them disabled, have no way of releasing Susette.

February 2007

Kids can be cruel.

They aren't to *her*, but that doesn't matter. Kids find ways to bend the rules, and the one that says *you must bring cards for everyone* is no exception. And so, every Valentine's Day, the paper bag on her desk is filled with the *good* cards. You know—the prettiest in the packs, their perforated edges carefully trimmed, the good candy. She's popular and pretty and *smart* and well-liked and somehow this makes her the star of the class, even if she isn't the kindest, even though she's rude too often and gets *too* competitive.

Her sister isn't like that. She's smart naturally, without needing to put in the work Lorna does. She's *quiet*. Withdrawn, hiding at the edges of crowds and the back of the bleachers, and even though she and Lorna look exactly the same save for the mark under her eye, kids still find ways to take little digs. Messy hair, muddy shoes, dark shadows under her eyes, ashy skin. They know better than to say these things around Lorna—she gave the biggest boy in their class a black eye and bloody nose the first time he made the mistake of insulting her twin around her—but they still happen. The cards—plain, chalky candies, no sentiments but a signature—are proof.

Susette took the attack with the second scalpel as a matter of course. It was better to let them hit their target than to risk a diversion that could loose the one she held or send them slipping into the injured alien on the makeshift operating table. It hurt, but it was fine. She would, of course, live.

Yet the proceeding events undid this cool calculation into hot agony. Being suspended was nothing. A trifling disorientation that she would rectify as soon as she sorted out how–

Then Lorna shut off their powers, Susette hit the ground, and everything hurt.

It wasn’t just the wounds that now didn’t heal, though they burned as if she could sense every vibrating fiber of her being yearning to mend itself. It was the blunt pain of hitting the floor, the sensation of being trapped in a body that did not obey commands properly. When her powers were negated, she became simply meat, flesh and bone and blood. The silver that flowed from her still decayed apart, but now she feared her own body might do the same.

The Greys were panicking, gathering, remembering how to speak out loud. Susette stifled down her own fear and rose to her feet, unsteady like a foal. 

“You can’t.” One croaked, obviously unused to using vocal chords. One of them, bigger than the others, came forward and pushed the Viperan-on-wheels out of the way. Susette interposed herself between them and Lorna, teeth grit. Lorna, who didn’t seem at all concerned or conflicted about what she’d done.

This pain was just a moment in time, and would pass. Despite wanting to clutch her wounds and howl, despite the terrifying feeling of blood draining and not replenishing from her human form, she met the large Grey head on, hoping Lorna could manage the rest.

Sharp eyes watched as Susette interposed herself between the uncannily large Grey and her fellow Regulator. Unnecessary, and foolish, considering the risks were suddenly up in the air with her injuries and the field pressing down on her.

She suspected Susette meant for her to stay out of the way. Ridiculous. She wasn’t the one inhibited at the moment. Lorna had lived without extra abilities her whole life; put her on an even playing field with those who might use illusions or other tricks to beat her. The Greys, without their abilities, were no different. 

Lorna moved, swiftly walking around the perimeter of the field towards the Greys.

“No, you can’t. Release your hostage to us, now.”

Maybe the Greys had already come to this conclusion, maybe they might not have without that hint. But they were losing and panicked, and so what else did they have? 

The large Grey moved with a speed that shouldn’t have surprised Lorna—and if this was their strength without the field, she breathed that they were in there and not out here—and tackled Susette, landing heavily on the cold concrete.

“You can’t—” the other continued.

“Can’t what?” she snapped.

“Report us!” said another, and Lorna rolled her eyes and started for them, freeing the Viperan’s cart when the Greys scattered like dust motes. One collided with the field, another with the machine. (Panicked. Tch. There was no need for it.)

The field began to distort as a pair of Greys ran into it. It shimmered, warping the views between inside and out. The large Grey screamed, clapping their hands over their ear holes as a sound filled the space, one muffled to those outside the field. Lorna frowned.

Susette paid no mind to the silvery liquid that flowed from her hand. It shimmered into nothingness while in the air, no chance of saving it or contaminating the Viperan’s wounds. Despite the pain, her grip remained firm.

“You can listen to the orders, or we can force you. But you will release this person with no further harm done.” Susette was adamant. She did not like force, and she did not care for violence. But they had already hurt this individual without leave.

One of the Greys that she did not hold captive hovered near a machine with a curious hose attachment. It began to emit a low hum, as if powering on, and by the slight flex of the Grey’s eyes, they were controlling it. She did not know what it did. “Stop. Immediately.”

Her grip tightened painfully on the one she held captive, slicing further into her own hand.

The Grey continued to squirm, their grip iron on the scalpel. The one by the machine froze upon seeing Susette’s eyes land on them, then quickly began moving again. The job had to be completed. No Regulator could tell them no. 

That too, seemed to be the thought on the other Greys’ minds, when one lunged with a second scalpel. Bold, for a Grey. They must have been desperate, and the telepathic shrieking continuing, pitched and grating in the Regulator’s heads, confirmed it.

God. Shut up. Lorna’s eye twitched in irritation. They could speak. Yes, so they were panicked. Fine. Panicked people, whether human or Grey, made mistakes. She could work with that.

There—one such mistake. A fourth Grey had frozen perfectly in place the same moment a shimmery field encapsulated both scalpel Greys and vaporvolph. The three began to float within it, and the silvery fluid leaking from Susette’s wound scattered into the air. Right. Greys leaned heavily on their tech, but more so on tech that incorporated their own abilities. (Which seemed to extend past simple telepathy and telekinesis? Unless the machine was controlled by either... A thought for later.) 

Dark, calculating eyes flicked between the Greys, Susette, and the Viperan. Susette would be fine; plenty had been done to vaporvolphs without permanent damage in the years they’d been held prisoner on Vampiru. There was nothing lasting the Greys could do. And whatever damage they did to the Viperan or what might be done with this next move—well, that too could be reversed. Hoax would come. She always did. Stubbornness came in handy, when it came to her particular talents.

Risks outweighed the cost, and that was enough.

The power shut-down came hard and fast, before the Greys had time to further react to the Regular’s presence.  Any other weapons, least those that she couldn’t remove from the situation, had been caught within the field, as well. Those inside it would feel weight on their shoulders as the field sputtered.  Didn’t matter—it was out of commission now, along with any other secret powers they might be inclined to use, and the Viperan’s status appeared unchanged. Whatever machine had been regulating his body wasn’t entirely dependent on Grey abilities, then. Lorna felt an almost smug satisfaction—not professional, but justified, here. The resolution would be about as clean as it came.

Susette would be perhaps worse for the wear after, and, well, she’d accepted the risks of the job when she took it. She’d have dealt with worse in her life, let alone as a monster hunter.

Lorna’s gaze swept past the other Regulator to those Greys outside the field.

Rowan ran her eyes across the forms she was handed, though her vision was beginning to blur around the edges from exhaustion.

“New protocols, updated contacts… was I really gone for so long? Out there?” she sighed, before realizing she was beginning to slump in front of her superior and immediately straightened her posture.

“Lorna…” Rowan began, “May I speak to you, not as a fellow regulator, but from one human being to another?”

Rowan’s heart was racing now. All of the thoughts and feelings she had been suppressing for months on end, now threatening to pour out of her mouth like blood.

“Do you ever feel… as if you no longer belong here? As though the very planet you were born on has slowly become hostile to you? I-” her voice caught in her throat as she tried to maintain eye contact, “the stars, there’s just so many of them. An endless expanse of unfathomable universes, stretching endlessly around you, forever, and ever, and… It’s impossible not to notice when you’re up there, surely you know. And you and I, what chance do we really have, in the grand scheme of it all?”

"No.”

Lorna blinked slowly at Rowan. She understood where the feeling came from, absolutely.

(Blood trickles down her brother’s neck. It stains the pavement below. This is the moment everything changes.)

“I feel as though our home has some guests, and if they cannot behave themselves, they need to be stopped. By any means necessary.” Brown eyes fixed on those ahead of her. “We aren’t less or less capable for being human, Rowan.”

Susette understood Lorna’s expression and moved immediately. It was dangerous to risk shutting the Greys down simultaneously, depending on what support systems they were linked to that were in turn linked to their patient. The Viperan on the table still breathed, though the wide-open eyes were glassy and far away.

Without hesitation she came forward and grabbed their implements, held them still. Directly on the blades if she had to, whether they might slice her or not. Her rapidly-dissipating gore would not contaminate or infect an open wound.

“Stop immediately,” she repeated through grit teeth. It hurt, but it was the most immediate option that would, if they backed off, prevent the most harm. Her tone practically had teeth; violence was assured if they did not.

Of course they would not.

Scalpels seemed so primitive for such a species as the Greys. Why use something as messy as a blade when a laser or teleportation or any one of the compact machines they fine-tuned with their powers might do?

Same reason she had, she supposed. To feel it and be sure that the job was done.

Not something she’d expect of a Grey, but then, the little aliens had plenty of surprises. 

One such blade dug into Susette’s hand. The wiry Grey holding it pulled ineffectually, their hand trapped in the volph’s grip. 

<Let go! Let go now! We are permitted to be here!>

The telepathic words grated on Lorna’s ears, though not as much as the sudden panic behind them did. (As if either woman had needed the confirmation that there was no such permission.)

“Turn off your machines and we can talk.”

<No. Regulators do not issue orders. We cannot follow Regulator orders.>

Occupational Hazard

[cw: blood/surgery]

Lorna and Susette were supposed to be patrolling for signs of the Kresnik. Yet here they were, instead, breaking into an abandoned apartment building. Inside they confronted a gaggle of mismatched Greys who goggled at the intrusion. They surrounded a prone, dazed, enormous brown and tan scaled alien who lay belly up with scales exposed. One had already been deftly removed, leaving a shimmery red wound reflected in clinically sharp scalpels.

It had been the strong smell of disinfectant mingling with blood that had drawn Susette to them, breaking off from the Regulators’ established path. She knew Lorna would stay on her heels as she literally dogged the trail. There wasn’t a hint of vampire about it which was not relayed to Lorna.

Susette was practically gagging on the smell by the time they found the right door. Upon entering she had to physically alter her body’s makeup to withstand it. The makeshift sterile environment the Greys had created to harvest their samples was horrific enough without breathing in concentrated bleach.

“Stop immediately,” She told them, and by some miracle didn’t gag on her words. While she wasn’t an expert on Grey protocol, this could not be appropriate by any stretch of the imagination. Lorna, a human more versed in Earth’s particular bylaws, likely knew better.

Lorna had been irritated, to put it lightly, at the interruption to their patrol. Not at Susette herself, but the interruption to her focus. 

It was fine. It was fine! She still followed after the other Regulator without complaint or any outward display of irritation. And regardless, her attitude shifted very much once the first waft of disinfectant hit her. Even to her human senses, it was strong, thought the tang of blood in the air didn’t hit her until the two Regulators had come to a stop in front of the Greys. She eyed each in turn; their expressions revealed nothing (typical). 

“This is over. Section IV of the 1969 agreement prohibits the harvesting of any protected non-native species to a planet.” Lorna’s voice was strong and clear and carried across the warehouse. That particular line hadn’t sat well with many, considering it protected their invaders, but no humans. Irrelevant, right now. “Your unit designation will be passed on to MJ-12 and Regulator command. Stop now.”

It should have shocked no one that, rather than be slowed, the Greys began to move faster, their long fingers flying over instruments and the prone alien.

<We have permission.>

It was almost funny, Rowan thought to herself as she fought to find the right words to respond, how in a world full of beasts and unimaginable cosmic horrors, fellow humans continued to instill a fear in her as well.

What did they feel when they all looked at her? Was it vitriol? Pity? Frustration? Or perhaps nothing at all?

Despite putting every ounce of energy in maintaining a cold exterior, anxiety pulsed through her with every interaction. And why wouldn’t it? She knew she was a creature of emotion, it was a fitting punishment for her endless series of rash actions.

“I see…” Rowan trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.

She sat quietly in the armchair as instructed, folding her hands in her lap as she looked towards Lorna, attempting to gauge her emotions. “Earth, it feels almost strange to return after so long. I’ve no idea how things have changed in my absence.”

Lorna watched as Rowan took a seat. Cooperative as the other woman was, she doubted time away had done much to change her innermost feelings. How she handled the return, now, that was critical.

“As you know, Earth’s under new management. And lucky for you...” She stuck a finger beneath her folder and pinched a second, smaller one. This was handed over to Rowan. “There’s a fresh, new welcome packet. It contains updated contact information, protocols, and rundowns on the current local problems.”

She leaned forward then and propped her chin on a fist.

“Welcome home, Rowan.”

Three such simple words, and yet they pierced her heart like a blade. How long had it been seen anyone had uttered those words to her?

Rowan stepped out of the portal and carefully dusted off the length of her beige coat. There was no sense of relief as she had been anticipating after her months of professional exile. Home… yes it was home in the sense that she had finally returned back to Maroa, it’s true, and yet as she stood there she felt she no longer belonged.

“Hello, Lorna,” Rowan said as her eyes met the other woman’s, her voice tinged with caution.  The tension in the room was almost palpable, and she knew why. Footsteps had echoes, a stone dropped in a pond caused ripples, and all actions had their consequences.

“How is your brother?”

There was no tension on Lorna’s part. None, at least, related to the Regulator in front of her. Pressure was on to do her job properly now that the games were over, and while Lorna knew she was perfectly capable, it still... 

Grated.

To be thought of as less of a Regulator, occasionally, via whispers and slight comments, as if being human was less, as well.

Perhaps that was the source of Rowan’s frustrations.

Lorna hadn’t needed to go anywhere in particular to meet up with Rowan. For the time being, she’d been staying in one of the sparsely furnished homes the Regulators owned around Maroa. One that, in fact, she was very familiar with. She’d have to relocate eventually, but it was convenient while she served as the point of contact for familiarizing new arrivals.

One foot bounced lightly as she sat with legs crossed, waiting for the other Regulator to be teleported in. She’d met Rowan only once before, and that hadn’t been until after the incident that had spurred the decision to reassign her. 

… That gave the incident more weight than it deserved. No, Rowan had her... obsessions, to put it lightly. Her unauthorized return of Logan’s decade-old memories had been the final straw, that was all. 

Lorna had faulted her then, though for less than rational reasons, and so she had been less than kind. A part of her had believed then that if she’d talked to Logan first and had been the one to return his memories, things would have gone more smoothly.

(She knew how impossible that was. But deep undercover as she was, she’d hoped.)

Brown eyes flicked up from the file in front of her as the room lit a pale white indicative of a portal. She snapped it shut and ceased bouncing her foot.

Lorna was treated to a long, considering look. The time stretched in a way noticeable to a human, possibly even uncomfortable. The vaporvolph was measuring her response and letting that silence stretch as long as necessary.

“I will take your words under advisement. However, I was not assigned to Earth to meet your expectations.” Her tone was straightforward without invective. “If you have a complaint, I understand you know how to submit them.”

She had before, after all.

The silence neither noticeably bothered Lorna nor did it in actuality. She waited patiently for Susette to compose whatever response she wanted. 

“My expectations are the same as the ones any Regulator would have. But—” She shrugged, as if the conversation had been nothing, meant nothing, and turned back to the documents. “—speaking of. Let’s make a plan. We won’t bring in a civilian, since you don’t seem thrilled about it, so for now, we’ll look at areas of the city he hasn’t pulled victims from yet and focus our efforts there.”

She looked back up.

Susette was unamused. “Is there a point you are trying to make?”

Lorna dragged a finger down the side of a folder. She looked up from it and directly into Susette’s eyes. Any hint of camaraderie had vanished from her own.

Susette considered her. “Things change. You’re not required to stay in the same state you were before.” There was nothing mocking about the delivery, but rather a serene reminder of what had just been conferred to her moments prior.

“And I do not lie more than I must, in general. It is often enough I must pretend to be something I’m not.” She gestured to the whole of herself. Human. “Why should I lie to another Regulator?”

“You’re right.” Lorna smiled. Maybe before, she’d have prickled at the reminder—one not only of what she’d just said, but at something that felt like the volph reminding Lorna how much less experience she had, relatively. 

She still did, now, though it was less about interpreted condescension and more about the defiance.