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EPILOGUE REACTION CMO - SPOILERS
[There is a Jane. Just. Just one Jane Crocker in a nebulous space. It could be one you know - one who walked the halls of Paradisa, or who still raises Pokemon on Victory Road, or the lively yet haunted survivor of five seasons of Airlocked. Or it could just be Jane, from Homestuck. From the Game Over timeline, because it's the only one she's ever really known - the only one any of these Janes have lived through. Or she could be that nexus of Janes that remembers all (or some) these things, and is fully aware of the concept of the "mundane" who sets her up like a disparate toy amongst others on a chess board to see what happens, and a RetJohn Jane, and the like.
Nevertheless, this is a Jane who has been made aware of an Ending. And an ARG, too, because we hate ourselves here. She knows what's a hard truth that's difficult to swallow and some of the brief, important tidbits of information of a bright and fervent lie, and how apparently neither count?
But if neither count, then why do they hurt? Why does it all ache with a startling, frightening sharpness like a shard of nothing slicing you in two? Like the hot lump of your own tongue in your mouth that makes it difficult to draw breath, like-
Like someone who will never, never seem to have control over anything. Who can't grow, can't learn, can't even try. Can't even really be loved, probably. Maybe. It feels like that, anyway. Like she's just bound and fated to fuck up every shred of companionship tossed her way because someone else is constantly wrangling her into some role, some duty. Even those who claim to keep their influence to a minimum have...a forceful touch in regards to certain alien and altogether harmful substances. And she's...feeling a lot of things.
There's fury, and anger, primarily at her own self, even if it is some other self, drenched in self-loathing. In self-disappointment. That she could get so self-absorbed, that in her own world, allowed to grow up, she'd just...be different flavors of awful tyrant. That she wouldn't be able to recognize her own danged faults, and yes, okay, that's still a problem for her, and circumstances keep her from really getting to work on that, but to not have changed? To have become more ruthless and nasty, even if it looked and sounded pretty and sweet? Oooh, it's an issue and it will need to be unboxed and looked at and scrutinized for certain, and she does want to talk. Properly. On her own. With other people. She wants to be better than she was yesterday. Isn't that the point in being a kid and growing up, even if nobody understands?
But God Almighty above, she's furious with Dirk. Furious, and a little frightened. Of course he'd always had that way of his, to be a puppetmaster, to have plans and Do Things, but it's...it. It's violating, in a way. To know your friend, whom you trust, whom you've had ups and downs with, could think nothing of you, nothing of the boy you both loved (oh God, poor Jake, her heart breaks for him - maybe he is ridiculous and empty-headed, but that didn't make him less deserving of making his own choices!), and Roxy - any and all genders of Roxy and Calliope, and John - he was her son, wasn't he? And for him to just be left to die, to be considered unimportant...
Frankly, she and Dirk needed to have a Talk. It will, 100%, involve a barrage of fresh Olive Garden breadsticks being thrown at him. You have been warned.
There's also...a complicated mix of emotions stirred within her, especially the Jane aware of the medium she's in, currently. Hopelessness, certainly, that in no regard will she ever truly be "free" from a "narrative", and all the bullshit layers of meta-analysis that comes with. A little hysterical at the concept some people are ready to push, that there was some unseen third outcome where everything was not utter bullshit. Weary, just from being inundated with one outcome in whole, and a little mortified at the relationship entanglements of the other outcome.
And...for the Jane aware of the woman at the keyboard, who's spent far too much time invested in typing out her thoughts and words, there's some cautious relief. There's an awareness of the metaphorical string in her back and just how slack it is, a means of communication between them rather than a tether - the only reason she could feasibly know these things at all. It's an agreement, a relationship of the mind, a gentle tug between a real person and one who, you know, doesn't fucking exist, but is loved.
To make a long story short, there is a Jane. She's skipped to the end. She is pissed.
Have at it.]
Airlocked because of course
[The bright blue box slowly appears somewhere nearby, the door clicking open and swinging inward. A second later, a blonde woman pokes her head out.]
Jane? You needed to talk, come on in.
[She nods toward the interior of the ship, before retreating back inside, the door open.]
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So when the Doctor turns up, it's with haste that she hurries in, and gives the Doctor a hug immediately.]
...Please tell me you'll kick my butt if I become some sort of...gross genocidal dictator, okay?
[Uh????]
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[Hastily setting down a tray bearing two steaming mugs and a small platter of lemon cookies as Jane goes in for the hug. And returning it, firmly - this is more serious than she was expecting.]
[And- uh, yeah, that question gives her pause.]
....Yeah. Promise.
[Wouldn't be the first time she's had to face a friend like that. She gives Jane another squeeze.]
That's a worryingly specific question, though. You want to talk about what prompted this?
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S-Sorry, I...I can't explain it very well. But I sort of...I guess...
[She pulls away a bit, worrying her bottom lip and looking altogether just as young as she did when they first met. Sixteen, and nervous, but peppy and sweet and excited and without an inkling of recognition of her past nor an idea of the blood that would wash over them in the future.]
...You know how my world's all weird and doesn't make any sense, and I've been petrified of the idea of any of you going there? It's. It's sort of tied into that? But with an alternate version of myself? I-I don't even know how I came to think this, or - or know it, but, it's like...
[It's okay, meta is not easy to explain when you're operating in a non-meta mindset. At least I'm not Dirk, or alt!Calliope, or Hussie? Or literally any other person who's made words come out of your mouth.]
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[The Doctor lets Jane pull away, but keeps a hand on her shoulder because honestly? Fuck letting her go at this moment, she is not letting Jane feel remotely alone in any sense.]
[With her free hand she picks up one of the mugs and offers it to Jane; the smell of fresh cocoa should be pretty recognizable.]
Drink. It'll help. And- yes, I've got a bit of an inkling, at least.
[She most certainly didn't visit Paradox Space for longer than it took to grab Dad Crocker and skedaddle, didn't poke around at all the knots in time and causality, and definitely didn't rapidly develop a massive headache from the way the entire place grated against her timey wimey senses.]
[And anyway, she was literally a different person then, so she can hardly be blamed for it.]
Like suddenly remembering things you never knew to begin with, that you couldn't ever have known?
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Hrk - ahm - um, yes, that - that hits the nail squarely on the head, how did you...
[Yeah don't. Ever hint that you did that, she'll immediately panic. Love yourself, Doctor.]
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[She takes a sip of the other mug.]
[And of course she's never telling Jane all that, unless maybe there were some weird forced-truth-telling circumstance going on, but when has that ever happened in the realms of panfandom rp?]
I can- sense possibilities in time, is probably the best way to put it. What moments have to be, and what things might be, at least a little. A tiny bit of infinity spreading out from every instant. And- sometimes- when you end up meeting yourself. Things can leak a little bit, I suppose. Mentally.
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[Because Jane hates just this, it makes her frightened and disgusted at the same time, but the Doctor likely runs into it a lot more often, as much as she tries not to.]
...It's. A complicated situation, I'm realizing.
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[She could Tell You Some Things about the Valeyard, but that's probably not helpful or productive at this moment.]
It certainly sounds like it. So... try to break it down? Something about your original world and- I'm guessing, an alternate you. Or potential you, that did something bad.
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[Her hands begin to shake, and she puts the mug of cocoa down before it gets to be a problem.]
She just...was horrid. It was like she couldn't learn from all the blunders she made as a teenager, or - or wasn't allowed to learn? There was something really funny going on in that respect, and not joke funny either...and she just...treated everyone like...
[There's a lump in her throat now. She swallows, shakes her head.]
She was acting a lot like my great grandmother. And - and I know I'm not a bastion of perfection, but I'd like to think I wouldn't do things like that...
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[The Doctor quietly sets down her own mug for a moment, thinking.]
I won't tell you you're not capable of going down that kind of path. We've both seen where even the best intentions can lead, with enough desperation. But Jane-?
[She takes a second to make sure Jane's actually looking at her, for this part.]
I believe you, personally, are stronger than your own worst possibilities. There's a timeline where you failed to learn, but this isn't it. And if it might be, well. Time can be rewritten. You've always got the choice to be worse, but that means you've got the choice to be your best, too. And I think you, Jane Crocker of Nohr, are going to make choices that are fantastic.
[She gives a small, encouraging smile.]
And if I'm wrong, I'll keep that promise to kick your arse back into shape.
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After all, that's part of being a kid and growing up when people start understanding. You listen.]
...Thanks. [She doesn't smile, but the inkling to is there.] I - I would probably fight back, but. It's an arsekicking I'd sorely need.
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[Yeah, another hug? Seems like the time for another hug.]
Just promise me one thing? Try not to blame yourself for things you've not actually done yet. You're future's not written yet- ...wait, no, that's Back to the Future. Valid point though, about the only thing those movies got right.
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[Yurika's seen herself, too, in a future she didn't want. Strange how getting kidnapped to murder land actually gave her more agency than being stuffed in a box. She hesitates outside of the door.]
Are you all right?
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Just give her like a minute to let out that scream and then breathe like a normal person.]
...I'm. I am absolutely never, ever going back. Ever. Ever.
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[Yurika walks in and hovers near poor Jane.]
But what in the world just happened?
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[She's so awful, the other Jane. Twenty three, and hasn't learned a damned thing. Still hurting people. Still being an idiot. It's a messy, confusing thing.]
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[She just. Doesn't know how to describe the sensation. Like someone dumped a load of shit in your lap and you're stuck looking through it all and memorizing every gruesome detail.]
...As for messing with me? Gracious, I...[She smiles, a little weakly, a lot sharp.] I'd hope whom or whatever it is has the presence of mind not to keep meddling.
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[She knows, and won't forget it, and doesn't know how she can find herself more grateful for that fact with every passing day, but it happens.
Yurika, will you accept hugs? Jane would like to hug.]
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We'll figure out what's going on, and whoever's behind it is getting a piece of my mind, that's for sure.
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[Some kind of weird early-twenties Dirk who kidnapped Roxy's mom and took her on a spaceship and Terezi is with them and she may or may not have John's dead body in a wallet what the FUCK has Homestuck become.]
But we need to lure him to an Olive Garden parking lot.
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[She thinks. She hopes. God, she hopes.]
It's. More the stuff...stuff back there that's really necessary to be remedied. You know? And I'm not saying I can fix it, because I can't, but it would be nice to do something. It's better than doing nothing.
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