grey girl in a colorful world

Gardner hesitated. He realized it still felt like he was getting his stain on everyone else by seeking their help. It was far too presumptuous to assume they accepted him as part of their family.

“Haven’t really talked to anyone about it,” he mumbled. “You’ve, uhm. Got a lot more experience with it, I think. How does it… work? How are they supposed to back me up without getting into trouble?”

“We-ell,” Pepper hummed. "... Tough question. Real family'll throw themselves into trouble for you at the drop of a hat. I know that ain’t always what we want, though.”

Even if, sometimes, it was the only way out. Pepper doubted she’d ever forget the lingering terror on Gamble’s face when the Grey had woken up, bruised and battered, with neither Tommy nor his aunt better off.

Or her own the first time Regulators had come for a check-in, after.

> Mass : OK

> Exterior : INORGANIC

> Velocity : CRITICAL

VI cracks her neck. It’s humid out, for one of the last wintry nights, and she’d like to blame the crash itself, but the entire season has been wretched. The planet is falling apart without unity. Wretched.

The crash? Also wretched, although…

… not so badly there might not have been a survivor.

She glances to her scanner, set on a tripod, set at the highest point above the crash. Heat readings, energy signatures, all else, those are too hard to collect here, but a full 3-D scan of the site will reveal plenty.

The machine makes a short, chipper double beep (almost cutely), indicating it’s done, and after confirming this, VI steps forward.

The first step, when the Twelve are able to beat Regulators and other organizations with wretched, grubby fingers to an incoming object, is to contain. Earth has enough problems without some alien bacteria creeping into the soil and taking out an entire forest. Radiation, that, too, must be dealt with, before a team can enter.

The team arrives armed. Anything worth salvaging must be found in a first pass, or they risk losing it to Regulators or some hapless fucking teenager chasing lights in the sky.

VI’s hand rests at the energy pistol at her belt.

… Empty. No bodies, no cargo.

She moves. Cockpit first, see if any of the equipment is still functioning before the team dissects the ship to bits. Debris covers the controls as much as anything else. Letters flash at the edge of her vision, rotating as her headset goes through a catalog of languages to translate the text on the dash and add it to its database.

The letters stop flickering, but something else doesn’t. Spotlights cover every inch of the wreck, including the untouched vegetation at its very edges, and there is something out there.

Curiosity overtakes her. Her scanner won’t have picked up anything that far.

…

It’s not tech, that much is clear, once the case is cracked open. Just a necklace, gold in color, with a gem inlaid in the pendant. Ruby, if she didn’t know better…

The box, and item inside, is resealed and wrapped. A natural mineral, if it is so, is useful. Its composition will be telling. Perhaps they can pinpoint the piece's (and, perhaps, ship's) origin, even.

The team cleans the site efficiently, and by the time they’re done, it’s almost as if the ship was never there. Review of the scans shows a path—not a bipedal being, which is interesting. They’ll have to monitor the site, in case the occupant returns. They’ll want their things back, likely. The necklace, if nothing else.

“No.” Cathal’s iron-like grip finally released her. He got to his feet slowly, coughing and retching. He had no choice but to lift the bottom of his mask away from his face, spitting black ooze onto the snow. Pepper would see the white flash of exposed teeth, skull-like.

“You are. Not human,” he said in a sudden and unintentional mirror of her own thoughts. “I can smell it. You can’t tell anyone. That you saw me. Do you understand?” He turned, looming over her in an impenetrable wall, hand reaching out once more to grab a fistful of her coat. “It is not safe. If you do.”

Pepper rose as the stranger did, fingers still itching to guide, though she kept them to herself. Anything she might see wouldn’t deter her. The Grey had seen far, far worse.

Beneath the brim of her knit hat, Pepper’s brows tightened as she processed what he was saying. What was it? Trouble with Ocularis? The Regs? Who had he pissed off so thoroughly that he’d be running through a damn blizzard injured? 

“Yeah, we’re fine, I mean. Just had to talk about, uhm… the crazy alien shit.” He flapped his wrist in the air. “I’ve been hidin’ down here for a long time and got to do something about my family soon. Just wish Emm wasn’t dragged into it.”

Pepper’s head tilted; she reached to pat Gardner’s shin.

Cathal let out a gasping groan as air flooded back into his lungs. His ribs lanced with white-hot pain. Cracked, maybe. Almost certainly. But nothing punctured. Lights were still boring into him. He felt that someone had drawn close to him, felt the shreds of their warmth. His ears were ringing. He couldn’t hear what they were saying

A massive, damaged hand lashed out, grabbing Pepper’s tiny wrist before she could touch him. The grip was like iron, and…sticky. 

“I’m fine,” he hissed, letting her go just as suddenly as he struggled to right himself. The headlights glared across the white expanse of his expressionless mask, flecked with someone else’s blood. A ragged cough tore out of him, hacking and wheezing on the freezing air as it bit into his bruised lungs. Black ichor mixed with blood on the snow. “Don’t touch me.”

Pepper froze. She couldn’t see them, with the way the headlights cast her shadow over the hand clenching her wrist, but she could feel it. The way the fibers of her gloves clung. She could feel the strength in his grip, see the mask on his face. The steel in his voice, however ruined his lungs sounded.

He’s not human. The realization came with no relief.

“Yeah, we did. I’m glad no one got hurt.” He paused, fiddling with the fabric tag on his neck pillow. “I guess we kinda had some serious talks. Somethin’ about being snowed in and in vampire jail does that to you.”

“Yeah.” Pepper’s wiggling around inside the hoodie ceased as the mood shifted. She gave Gardner a gentle smile. “Got a few of those in, too. Aaaand a lot of time stuck in the damn van talkin’ to myself.”

Her head tilted, ever so slightly, as her dark eyes widened at him in one of the few odd Grey mannerisms she’d held onto over the years. 

Gardner gave a half-chuckle and cleared his throat. He scooted up to be sitting a little better against the armrest. “How are you, Pepper? How’s life outside the mansion?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Drake snickered and rolled their eyes, “You’re hired.” 

They clambered into her van, closing the door behind them quickly and shoving their cold fingers against the heat vents. Now reheated, they slumped back against the passenger seat with a sigh and started peeling their gloves off, dropping them on the ground, making themselves comfortable. 

“Sooo… as my newest employee…” They said, happily wiggling their fingers in front of the vent again, “You know any good places to indiscriminately dump a bunch of plus sized garbage bags? Asking for a friend.”

“Woohoo!” The Grey smacked a hand on the horn with each cheer, then took off (read: began to carefully roll out into the street) and flicked on the radio. Punk music blasted from the aging speakers—she quickly spun the dial, turning it to a volume they could actually hear each other over.

She cast a glance back in the mirror towards the bags. “Trash, yeah, but goop?” 

She paused, just to create a little drama as the music dipped between songs.

Crosswalk

TW// BLOOD, VIOLENCE, EYE TRAUMA 

Cathal kept his head down against the wind as he walked. It whistled into the eye holes of his mask like icy nails. 

The man turns his head, as if some slumbering part of his hindbrain screams out that something is wrong. Cathal can just see the glimmer of eye-white as he closes the meager distance between them. 

Breath clouded out and was torn away from him in fogging gasps. He could still hear his heart pounding in his ears, even as his steps were measured and even. 

The alley is dark and wet with black ice. His target’s head cracks against the frozen brick wall as Cathal slams into him from behind. The man tries to scream before a hand is over his mouth, impervious to sharp vampiric fangs.

He had to move away from the site. Any direction would do. It didn’t really matter.

This is a high-risk target. It isn’t often that an Ocularis is selected for Removal. He has to be quick. He can’t let him see his mask, in case others are watching. Cathal slams his head into the wall again. The man groans. But there’s a flash of bright metal, a knife, as he struggles to turn towards his attacker. Cathal didn’t look up as he stepped into the street. He knew nobody would be driving now that the blizzard had deepened. Even the streetlights had gone dark.  He banks on the man being too stunned to aim, and he was right. The knife swipes into his coat and snags, missing his skin. Cathal puts one hand over the Ocularis’ eyes and shoves him back against the wall, a knee coming up to drive into the vampire’s gut. The man wheezes and slumps. Unexpected headlights lanced over him and Cathal’s head snapped up, too late.

Cathal rips the knife out of his target’s hands. He spreads the fingers of his hand over the vampire’s eyes just enough to allow the blade through.

A horn blared at him, tires skidding against ice and slush. Cathal tried to leap away, too slow, the van striking him broadside and sending him flying away and into the snow-covered asphalt. 

The vampire screams. Cathal silences him quickly with a jab to the throat. The alley falls eerily silent. The knife flashes and glitters as he stabs into his target, over and over, wherever he can reach. The Ocularis slides limply to the ground, face clotted with blood. Cathal realizes his arms are covered in it, sticky and cloying. He slips the knife into his pocket, steps back once, twice. Then runs.

A wheeze finally escapeed him. Snow eddied over him as the sound of a car door opening registered. He blinked. Nothing was broken. He was just winded. He could still walk…

Drake was safe (or, safe as her friend could be, all considered), supplies had been delivered to those who needed them, and the snow was unexpectedly... getting heavier. A shiver ran through Pepper’s limbs and she cranked up the heater until it rattled. (... Nuts. That had to get fixed.)

It was so damn cold, even with heat, gloves, layers, all that, and yeah, Greys—Pepper felt cold worse than most, but still. It felt wrong. Unnatural, in the way it seemed to frost over her very thoughts, sticking her on negative loop after loop, the second she seemed like she was free. That wasn’t how she—Pepper was good at avoiding the bad. The pit didn’t... grip her like that.

Shit. Worry about that later, right? For now, just, just keep her phone on the charger, and... and... 

... Get home safe.

The road ahead wasn’t quite whited out, but it was getting there. She squinted, flicked her brights on, and...

It happened fast. 

One moment, the road was empty. Next, a large figure was in the middle of the road.

A flash of a figure in her mirror. Large, both broad and tall, and dressed in crisp clothing.

Pepper blinked. Not again. Not here.

But that wasn’t Mercy, and she wasn’t a murderer. (She wasn’t.) The Grey slammed the horn, hit the brakes, and swerved. Not in time. Her gut clenched, and cold or no, Pepper was parked and flying towards the mountain of a figure in the snow. She was no sooner out her car, too, than the cold began to seep through her thick gloves.

Oh, fuck me, I am so, so sorry—are you okay?

“Hey! Hon—you okay?” No, they’d gone flying.God, were they even conscious? She fell to her knees beside them in the snow, cautiously extending a hand and trying to will her voice to be stronger than she felt and for both it and her heart to slow. “C’mon, love, please be okay. Lemme—”

The snow around them was streaked with red where they’d landed.

Drake wolf whistled after Pepper, grabbing the last bag with their free hand and slinging it over their other shoulder. They kicked the door closed once all the bags were out, then kicked it again one more time for good measure and to make them feel better. It didn’t work.

They kicked again.

Haha ok that one was nice.

“Aw, Pep, are you offering? I’d love to take you on as an apprentice, I could teach you so many things about the art of goo removal.” Drake said happily, carefully dropping the bags into the back of Pepper’s car. They double and triple bagged everything, just in case, but they’d rather not risk a leak.

“We’d have to bulk you up a bit, though.” They reached over and nudged Pepper’s sleeve up just enough to expose her wrist (scandalous) so they could wrap their hand around the skinny appendage. Their fingers touched easily, with plenty of room. “See, I don’t think you can be a hardcore janitor with wimpy wrists like these.”

“I can make up for muscle with other stuff. Like!” Pepper jumped up and snagged the minivan’s handle. She dangled for a moment before her weight dragged the hatch down and she could shove it closed (with all her football-sized weight). 

The Grey leaned on the hatch.

“At least three bodies. And a pony.” Drake said after pulling themselves up. They’d considered just yanking Pepper into the snow with them, but that seemed counter productive to their goal of being rescued. And it’d be mean. Pepper was too fun sized. They could probably heft her like a football. 

They waddled through the snow alongside her, yanking the door open and whooping when a wave of smell smacked into them. It was unpleasant. 

“I believe the technical term for this stuff is goop.” They said, grabbing a bag and slinging it over their shoulder. “I spent hours scraping this stuff off of some very nice vintage floor tiles.”

"What kind of pony? Full size or mini?” Pepper joked, but silenced when Drake swung open the doors. 

Important note: not all Greys lacked smell. Pepper had always been disappointed her sense was weaker than average. It meant missing out on a lot. Flowers, pasta boiling. It had meant the scent of Tom’s cologne on his hoodie, before, had faded faster than it should have, and that had broken her heart all that much more, that she was losing him again.

She was grateful for that weaker sense now, as a wave of sludge and gore smacked into her and the fledgling once the doors swung open. 

Pepper’s eye twitched. Ew.

And... then, she got to work, seizing the smallest of the bags and dragging it through the soft snow towards her van. The back opened with a button press, revealing a nice clear spot right where the supplies she’d luckily just delivered had been.