" AN INTERVIEW WITH URANIUM CITY'S PRIZED 'WRAITH.' "
(Ignore how the image text & the title text thing are slightly different I'm tired)
Yello, I'm back with another askblog! I didn't want to clog up my other Jane Doe/Penny Askblog.. so you get this! — @watermel0ns-dumb-cringe
[ALL ART USED BELONGS TO ME ; DO NOT REPOST. NSFW/PR0SHIP DNI.]
Format looks like this ⬇️
[⚙️]— "J-1 / Jane Doe."
" .. Must I be required for this? "
☆ RULES —
- No NSFW. Suggestive jokes are fine every now and then, but be wary for the person running this blog is a MINOR.
- Have basic human decency, please. This is an AU blog, being (partially) separate from canon. Ships most likely won't be included- aside from subtle hinting & already canon things. <3
- I'm completely fine with spamming asks just don't spam the same thing over & over.
J-1 doesn't have a larger role in the Target Aquired story yet— but you can read it here if ya want.
☆ IMPORTANT NOTE —
[May contain triggering/sensitive topics & imagery. Examples may include violence, blood/gore, & character death. Posts will have a TW/CW when necessary.]
FAQ under the cut
☆ FAQ —
Q: "What is the Target Aquired AU?"
A: Basic storyline for now is that that Penny Lamb was the only one to die in the Cyclone Roller Coaster Disaster, with the rest of the choir recovering in the hospital. She remains unidentified.
Before her funeral can be held, the unidentified body vanishes from its grave, the remaining alive members of the Saint Cassian Chamber Choir being found dead just after being released from the hospital.
Now having a robotic head, J-1 (Jane) essentially becomes something similar to The Terminator. Minus the time travel shenanigans. Not much is known about her other than the fact of Uranium City's residents slowly being picked off once they unknowingly are selected as a 'target' assigned to kill.
But maybe... Jane wasn't supposed to end up this way. Maybe she wasn't meant to be brought back as a killing machine. After all, a lot can happen when an incomplete 'machine' ends up in the wrong hands.
Nobody knows who she is, seemingly. Neither does she— her memories are gone. Programming blocking her feelings as to not get attached to 'targets,' and to not defy said programming pick those she's assigned to off.
However, J-1 seems.. a tad reluctant on the hunt for her most recent target. Is it rememberance? Is it pity? Or is it something else? Who knows. Her 'target?'
A painly familiar teenager. Perhaps someone she once knew before her death.
I'll leave the rest undiscovered for now. :) (fun fact, this doubles as a fic as well! .. even if it's from the pov of someone else.)
Q: "What are 'Targets?'"
A: Self explanatory. People that J-1 are supposed to hunt down & murder. She tends to leave odd symbols & writing at the scenes of the crimes.
Q: "Where can I read this?/Is there some kind of larger story?"
[⚙️]--
she just. watches as this happens. not speaking, not reacting, just .. staring that seems to be of pure, utter confusion. you feel like you're being judged.
" ... I'll admit it now. I somewhat did remember Tammy. And I wish I could undo what I've done. "
" Her death was the most peaceful of my former 'targets,' as of now. A small, sorrowful dance — ending as quickly as it started. I made it quick for her. "
How is your body? Physically, how are you feeling? Is everything alright? Is anything broken? Are you injured?
[⚙️]—
" He thinks I'm dead, for now. Otherwise.. I will- .. heal with time. I don't know how to describe it.. but. If that's what pain feels like, "
" .. I don't know how I feel about being a machine made to inflict it. "
" if I have to be specific. My face is visibly damaged, and one of my eye's internal functions are exposed. The exposed internal machinery currently runs down to where my jaw would begin. There is damage to my arms and torso that has been bandaged up. I am waiting for the wounds to close and for my mildly broken arm to heal. "
She sighs heavily, a look of regret on her 'face.' Yet, it's also a grateful look. Grateful for not being dead once more. Even with her difficulty of seeming more human, and expressing herself. "J-1" doesn't dare to smile just yet.
Hello, how are you feeling? What are your surroundings? Do you know where you are?
[⚙️]—
" .. I- I have been told that this is my old home. Before I became this. I don't know what I feel. I'm- I am not.. used. To feeling these kinds of things. "
" I am in an.. old bedroom of sorts. Two beds. A drawer in between them, in front of the window. It's.. warm. Familiar. "
She winces, putting a hand to her head; noticing the newly placed bandages on her torso & face .. Then immediately trying to get up. Unfortunately letting out a small yelp as she realizes that pain, oddly, seems to actually be a problem for her now. Falling back onto the oddly familiar bed she woke up in.
Be safe, you guys. No matter what, you will always be loved, and nothing can take that away. We'll get through it together, I promise. Take care of yourselves n' kick up some happy feels with your favorite media or something that makes you happy. <3
You did the right thing, not being able to bring yourself to kill him, there
I'm not sure if you'll be safe back to those headquarters, though.
Don't go back.
You did the right thing, you did well
Unfortunately, you're simply met with a door in your face. She seems to be trying to somewhat distance herself in the case of rebooting & reverting back to a simple machine that follows it's coding.
There's something just barely heard from the other side, but you can't put your finger on what it is..
There seems to be a hat left on the ground, with the sound of footsteps in the distance as if someone had ran away from something. Pairing the footsteps, there's the sound of a small object made of metal clanking. Like a blade of some sort being thrown, or dropped on the ground. Maybe even some smaller footsteps follow after if you listen closely.
Yet, she still does nothing. Visibly hesitating with an expression that seems to be repressed guilt. Just. Tightly gripping her knife with shaky hands. Whatever she's expressing seems to be genuine. Something human.
" .. I don't have the option to choose. It's my job. What I was recreated for. "
" I'm sorry. I didn't want this to happen, either. "
He panics to himself for a moment, fumbling and taking out two items. One being his own pink colored flower crown, and the other a green colored bead bracelet. Holding them up to her view.
She was about to take a step forward, but stops with a rather confused looking blink. There's a sense of familiarity she can't deny.
Just like the boy had probably hoped, there's visibly some kinda spark of familiarity flickering in her eyes as the green darkens to a much more softer look. Unable to be truly repressed down.
" .. I'm- I don't understand— I- "
She's trying her best to hold her composure. Taken aback from the sudden conflict in her mind.
