Rampant Regressionism

okay so, the idea goes something like this

it’s the middle of the night, and j’s squad just got back from a hunt. J’s dragging her squad into the pod to transmit a report via the relay. (n has found some toy or cool rock that he’s focused on; j berates him for the distraction and destroys it in front of him)

when theyre in the pod and j’s poking them to debrief, v would say it’s pointless, but j would insist that it’s their jobs to report everything to corporate

as they’re leaving the pod, N asks V out on a date, and V aloofly brushes him aside, and J sneers at him, telling him to give it up. then she strikes up conversation with V herself, telling her the night is young enough they could go on a second hunt together, just the two of them. V is like, haven’t they already done enough for the night? but how else will they make top team? (J might have another motivation, of course)

V rolls her eyes and accept, but still snubs J by suggesting they may as well bring the other one with them. N gushes in excitement, and J facepalms.

the next hunt takes them to an office tower crawling with workers. n hesitates or tries to talk to them in a way that deeply disappoints j. she kicks him to get back to work. in the final boss room of the office tower, they take down a competent and resourceful worker. importantly, this worker had already defeated a disassembly drone, and they kept their core in an oven like alice’s

j finds the disassembler’s corpse — serial designation S according to the arm band — and carries it and the core back to the spire. after how useless n was, j fantasizes about nursing this drone back to health, adding them to her squad, and then eliminating redundancy. then they’d be like a well oiled machine — making top team for sure.

back in the pod, j is recounting the events of her hunt to the uncaring silence of the relay. year after year, night are night, j has transmitted her reports. (sometimes, in her weaker moments, she turned to the relay to pour out her frustrations, doubts, and aspirations). but there is no reply to anything j sends; nothing except a beep of acknowledgement

as j’s recounting nears the end, she’s at the point where she ought to mention S. and it’s here that J hesitates. she already loved the idea of adding them to her team, but it had been a private thought. she didn’t want to tell her team what she was planning; that’d be bad for morale more than that, she realizes she’s anxious of even telling corporate. team assignments are up to them — she could never have a new member without official paperwork.

and this drone had a squad of their own, didn’t they? they’d want them back, corporate would tell J to give S back to them, and J would have to listen, because she always follows orders.

but if she didn’t say, kept it a secret? then she wouldn’t be disobeying anything, would she? it’d be off the books.

but loyalty isn’t just following the letter of the law. J knows a effective drone would report all relevant information. so she gets over her own selfish fantasies, and reports her recovery of S’s core.

and this prompts what none of J’s reports ever had: a verbal response.

You are hereby ordered to destroy the core.

J freezes. and suddenly, the fantasy she’d already harbored doubts of had been confirmed insolvent. she didn’t understand why, she wanted to plead, demands answers, argue with them.

but J always followed orders. and especially with her team watching her? she had an example to set.

so she dismantles her dream with her own hands.

the relay is silent after that, and J feels empty.

there’s just one other thing to take care of. N put in a truly pitiful perfomance in today’s missions. so as punishment, J corners him, attacks, ripping off his limbs and stabbing her tail into his stomach, just beyond the reach of his mouth. he’ll survive, if he’s clever about it. it’ll teach him resourcefulness in addition to discipline.

as J goes to sleep, she thinks about what she just destroyed.

she’s woken up partway through the day. V had gone to N in the middle of the night, reattaching his limbs and spitting on his acid wound. as J watches, V’s touch lingers a minute longer than it needs to. N thanks her and reaches out for a hug, and V lets it happen.

J falls from the ceiling, unable to contain the irritation lashing her tail. then both of her squadmates are startled from the sound of J launching into the air. but J is flying away. the sun has already risen, so J can’t leave the spire. she just hides away in some obscure nook, unseen.

and there, J twitches and shakes even as she keeps her mask of composure. did V express more affection for the liability than J? but what did that matter. was she stuck with these two forever? but what did that matter. would S have thanked her with a hug once she’d finished repairing them? what did that matter. corporate had given the order and she’d executed it.

so she did all this, gave everything she had, for nothing more than a beep of acknowledgment from corporate. but there’s a lot of teams, it’d have to be an overwhelming stream of reports. if J wants attention, she just needs to distinguish herself. they’d definitely have time to hold meetings with the top team

she just has to keep pushing herself. keep going. and then she—

what did this matter? effective drones didn’t brood in the corner. she forces her features into a neutral mask, and returns to her sleeping perch.

the next day, V is back to ignoring and forgetting N. sometimes she gives odd looks, sometimes she is a little slow to fly away from his conversation prompts. but J can at least smirk a little satisfaction that whatever that was last night, it didn’t last.

it flared up, every so often, but it never lasted. N wouldn’t have kept up this long if there was no hope, if there had never been fleeting moments where her composure slips.

at least when J slipped she did it where none of her squad could see.

the missions continue. J doesn’t pull any more double hunts — some nights she wakes up, opens her eyes, stares blankly for a while, then closes them, hanging limp. then she reminds herself she’ll never make top team unless she gets up and grinds, so she gets up and grinds.

when she breaks, it’s something small. she chases a worker through a children’s costume shop. in place of mannequins, there’s the short frames of deactived worker drones. her prey tries to disguise themselves as one, but J’s senses are too keen, and she cuts them down, stains the racks with their oil. then as she’s carrying them back, she sees a worker wearing a maid outfit.

J freezes and stares it long enough you’d wonder if a core process crashed. but she snaps out of it and ends the mission.

when she goes to sleep that night, she remembers wearing a maid outfit.

she wakes up, and thinks about her dreams. she relives the memory of seeing that maid outfit, and wonders what it is lingering in hardrive, half​-​forgotten and straining to be remembered.

J keeeps thinking about it, puzzling over the dreams, in the slow moments in the nights to come. then one day, she’s reminiscing while perched on a rooftop while V flushes some drones out of a building — J’s so distracted one of them gets away. that had never happened before. V taunts her about it until J chops off one of her arms. she’s lucky J didn’t go for the head. but she had a point, after all

that night, J remains in the pod after everyone else delivers their reports. with no one around to see her weakness, she turns on the relay again. one more thing, she says. i think i might… need a break. a vacation. something to clear my head.

at this, once again, corporate finally deigns to respond

Denied.

J doesn’t scream, because then her squad would hear her. but rather than going to her sleeping perch, she goes to that obscure hook, hidden from sight. she twitches and shakes. she thinks about the maid uniform.

and maybe she falls asleep there. maybe she thinks so hard she pulls on that thread of memory until it unravels. maybe she finally breaks and starts outright hallucinating.

but she’s wearing the maid uniform. and she feels fine, not stricken by drought. and she’s not alone. there’s a voice murmuring to her, holding her, giving her orders she feels so happy to carry out.

and then she wakes up and it’s time to grind again. but when the night is over, she can come back to that hiding spot and think about being a maid again.

if N or V notice the piles of scrap around the spire are tidier and sorted, they don’t comment on it.

one hunt takes them to an office supply store, and J raids it for paper and ink. when V asks, J says it’s for paperwork.

the truth is she’s started drawing again. she draws herself as a worker drone wearing a maid dress. she draws the human — she can’t remember the face, but they has such expressive eyes. she draws serial designation S.

she enjoys it. she spends so much time hiding, reliving her memories and drawing them out that on a few nights she forgets to hunt at all.

then N bothers her, saying he’s worried she’s overheating, so he brought her some oil. she snaps about not needing charity, and hits him.

then one day, j comes back to her secret hiding spot to find v there, laughing at her drawings. J nearly kills her on the spot, but V’s words stop her in her tracks. so this is what J’s been doing instead of working.

j attempts a jargon​-​filled denial, but v cuts through all of it.

“we’re supposed to report everything to corporate, aren’t we, j? i think they’d want to hear about what my squad leader has been spending so much time on.”

j demands she doesn’t, but v doesn’t respond well to demands. j begs, and v decides she’ll let it drop. under a condition.

“make me team leader,” v says. j’s confused, so v waves her hand. “i’m sure you can make up some paperwork. just say ‘i, sd​-​j, hereby transfer all mission authority to v’ or something.”

but you have no aptitude for leading!

“i’ll have you to advise me~”

ultimately, j can’t have her weakness and failure reported, so she goes along with it. she uses her paper to draft out a promotion form, and invents the formalities.

J’ll never forget the petty, triumphant grin on V’s face, just as V’ll never forget the seething defeat on J’s

V’s leadership style is different — she doesn’t care what J does in her free time — but almost nothing actually changes. instead of planning their hunts, V asks J to “advise”, coming up with the exact plans J’d implement if she were still leader. then sometimes, V changes random details, or asks J to come up with another. whenever J objects, V waves her leader status in her face, and the paper with J’s signature to prove it. as if being leader was nothing but a way to fuck with J.

J spends most of her night away from the spire, at this point. she’s taken all her drawings outside, to an old house in the suburbs.

her memories have grown so detailed she isn’t just drawing ephemeral images anymore; her pages become almost like diary entries. she writes stories about tessa.

when uzi sneaks out to infiltrate the corpse spire, she peeks through the entrance to find N and V already there. not willing to face two murder drones, she starts to sneak away, but she does overhear them talking about a third member, wondering where she’s been hiding. the conversation progresses until the male murder drone says he’s worried, and the female eventually decides to humor him with a sigh.

they leave, giving uzi the opportunity to sneak up and upgrade her railgun. she got the part she needed, and though it’s admittedly pretty anticlimatic to end the night without using her new and improved weapon, but she decides to head back and make a new plan with what she knows now.

the next day, she can barely focus in class, thinking about how she can finally start hunting down the murder drones. but she’s a little bit disquieted by the fact that they talk, and seem to have emotions? but she’s sticking the murder plan.

after school, instead of doing her homework, uzi goes shitposting on the forums of outpost​-​3’s local network under her darkxwolf17 handle. she brags about sneaking into the murder drone lair, for all that no one believes her.

in the midst of her posting, uzi gets a dm from a user by the name of lilkittenuwu asking if she’s a big, scary wolf. uzi replies yes *growls*, half as a bit. but like that, they start roleplaying. uzi glomps, she teleports behind u, she writes paragraphs of description that lilkittenuwu replies with maybe a sentence or two. but she has fun. she’s kinda looking forward to doing this again sometime.

she sneaks out again that night, searches around, but doesn’t end up finding anything.

then the next day, when uzi goes to school, everyone’s looking at her, and there’s smirks and a few people outright laughing. she narrows her eyes and looks for the source, and the worst screenshots from those dms are plastered on the student pinboard.

lizzy was lilkittenuwu, pretending to roleplay so uzi could embarass herself.

when uzi runs away from the laughing crowds to hide in a closet, it’s thad who comes by to ask if she’s alright. uzi waves off his concern, but thad’s like, whatever happens, never forget you’re a cool drone, ’zi. if you need me, i’ll be here.

still in the closet, he doesn’t see uzi’s blush, just her stammered, “eww. i hate that you said that.”

uzi sneaks out even earlier that night, determined to kill a murder drone and prove how scary and strong she is. (khan is so very proud of her newfound passion for doors).

finally, with more time to search tonight, she finds something.

it’s a house in the suburbs that seems weirdly well​-​maintained compared to everything around it. uzi investigates, peeping into the windows to see a murder drone inside… cleaning? and as she watches, she draws, and writes, and lays on the bed murmuring to someone unseen.

weird.

uzi doesn’t know what’s going on, and it’s kind of… not hurting anyone? somehow? so she just leaves it alone.

over the next few days, she visits the house in the suburb a few more times, and starts to get familiar with the murder drones’ schedule. sometimes, she goes by the house, the murder drone isn’t there, and she can’t deny her curiosity. it’s a lot of pictures and diaries she can’t really parse what it all means, other than the murder drone being obsessed with a human and a worker with her same hairstyle.

as this goes on, the bullies notice uzi’s low energy and bagged eyes. they spread rumors that she’s started doing magnets. thad’s concerned at her, asking if she’s been recharging okay, but uzi starts keeping her activities a secret. she wants to surprise them all with the news when she finally kills one.

her luck runs out eventually, and she encounters v on patrol one night. they fight, and uzi holds her own, blowing v’s head off. v regenerates, and uzi retreats.

the extra time to explore means uzi is way more familiar with the city, and she realizes it’d be a bad idea to lead a murder drone to her colony, so she dunk into the underground tunnels hoping to lose her murder pursuer.

it works, but when she pokes her head up, she can’t go far without seeing that the murder drone — and the male one — are looking for her.

uzi keeps trying, but eventually her tiredness catches up with her, and she falls asleep down there. with how much sleep she’s been missing, she sleeps the whole day away and into the evening.

a new night, might as well get back to the hunt. she starts by checking up on the house.

and uzi find thad there, dressed as a butler. the murder drone is kicking him down, calling him a moron. a part of her is terrifed that he’s so close to a murder drone, and a part of her wonders why that, when this murder drone clearly has worse weapons.

uzi has her railgun, but against v it didn’t buy more than seconds, and honestly, she doesn’t want to shoot this one. she just seems… sad.

then uzi realizes how she can fix this.

she’d read the diaries. she knew what j was afraid of.

from somewhere unseen, the murder drone hears, “J? what’s going on in there?” as uzi tries to accent her voice.

“tessa? is that y​-​you?”

“you aren’t picking on n again, are you?”

“o​-​of course not,” she says. “where are you? i was looking for you.”

uzi’s eyes go wide, and she’s stumbles for an excuse to keep j from seeing her. “Um. don’t come in. i’m not decent!”

“…okay.”

that buys uzi a few seconds to think of something else. she tries for “um. i can’t find my clothes in here. close your eyes, i need to walk by”

this lets uzi walk into the room where J looms over thad. he’s there’s a mixture of relief, surprise, fear, and confusion when he sees her.

“uzi? I was looking for you.”

uzi shushes him. “N, can you step outside?” her gestures indicate that she’s talking to thad.

“no way, i’m not leaving without you, ’zi.”

“who does he think he’s talking to?” J crunches her peg down on thad. “that was an order, moron.”

uzi winces, and can hardly keep the anger out of her tone. “quit it!” then she remembers her act. “you know i’m not finished working on him, J.”

j loosens up enough for thad to scramble to his feet. “you got it, boss. might as well through him back in the dump, honestly. you have me, right?”

“of course, J. you’re the best.”

she preens under the compliments. her eyes are still closed. “are you dressed yet?”

“o​-​oh. um. here.” uzi loops around until she’s standing behind J. she stares at the murder drone’s back, trying to think of something, but only one excuse comes to her. “do you mind if i do you hair?”

“i’m yours.”

uzi walks up, and undoes j’s pigtails, running her fingers through silvery hair.

finally free, thad grabs a pipe and readies it to swing at j. uzi shakes her head.

“is something wrong, tessa?”

“no, nothing.” uzi sweats, and then leans forward, hugging j.

the disassembly drone leans into the touch, purring. “mm… wait. you feel — different.”

j turns around, opens her eyes, and sees uzi. a hunting cross, hands into claws, fangs out.

uzi doesn’t break character. “calm down, girl.”

her cross becomes pupils, but they just narrow into a glare. “you’re not tessa.”

“you’re not a maid.”

j’s able to charge forward, pinning uzi against a wall, blades inches from penetrating her core “how do you know any of this?”

“i read​-​”

uzi hasn’t even finished before j’s arm is driving forward.

“those were private documents. but i can enforce an NDA.”

“I thought it was cool! and it seemed like you wanted someone to play along?” as much as she didn’t want to involve thad in this, the idiot still hadn’t left. “that’s not N either.”

J glances back. for these few seconds, J hadn’t been watching behind her, and uzi’s view had been obscured by the larger drone, so neither of them realized thad had run up behind j and was swinging his pipe to clock against her head. j’s visor glitches, and she falls.

“now, zi!”

but uzi glances at the fallen murder drone. even if she didin’t know how fast they healed, did she want this drone to think she’d just read her diary and only wanted to make fun of her just like lizzy?

when j’s back on her feet and bouncing on thad, uzi charges forward. J jerks a wary glance backward, but all Uzi’s doing is placing a hand on her back.

uzi still didn’t break character. “calm down, girl. let N go. V’ll be wondering where he is soon. let’s get you patched up, alright? you took a pretty bad knock to the head there.”

“stop, you glorified teleprompter. you aren’t tessa.”

uzi’s hand trailed up j’s back, and then drifted to caress her cheek. j’s too mesmerized by the touch to pull away.

“even if i’m not, imagine what she’d say.” uzi stares into her eyes, and hoped. “J? let him go. that’s an order.”

and then j freezes. every instinct told her to do what she was redesigned to do, kill this worker and slake herself on its oil.

j followed orders. if she closed her eyes, ignored that the voice was a crude imitation of her dreamed master, she could descend into that fantasy she’d spent so many hours imagining. she knew what tessa would tell her to do, didn’t she?

j always followed orders. even, especially, when she didn’t want to. so she relaxes, rises from the worker she’d pinned to the ground.

and then uzi is rushing forward, pulling her into a hug.

j had followed orders, and instead of silence, it’s murmured affection, and instead of feeling empty, j feels something warm.

“why?” j asks uzi

“why did you pretend to be a maid?”

“i…” j frowns. “stress relief. it’s nice, thinking about being a maid, simple but effective, servant to one human.”

uzi bit back a comment about how no self​-​respecting robot would want that. “so, escapism,” she said. “better than being all murder all the time, at least.”

“our job is of the utmost importance. but it’s… harder, working for a corporation—”

“that doesn’t care about you or your happiness and intends to use up then discard you?”

her claws were back out. maybe uzi had pushed too far.

uzi slowly, gently pushes down the claws. “i’m saying i get the appeal. the world sucks. i’d also like to be someone else, somewhere else. i also like to daydream and pretend sometimes,” uzi admits. “it’s better when it’s with someone else. so you’re not alone. y’know?”

“it was… nice hearing another voice. even if your accent is terrible.”

“wanna roleplay again, some time?”

“hm. call it a drama​-​based training exercise.”

“don’t make it sound so lame.” uzi punches J lightly. “it’s just for fun.”

“oh, not just for fun.” J snorted. she had a cross in one eye, and brought her drooling mouth close enough to uzi’s face for those purple eyes to go hollow. “there’s a lot to learn from simulated encounters with a worker, isn’t there? it’ll be good practice.”

“i thought you wanted as escape from all the murder stuff!”

j sagged back, eyes downcast. “i can’t just agree to waste time. it’s against the employee guidelines. i asked for time off and i was denied.”

“well that’s bullcrap! you deserve a break.” then, her visor flashed a devious cat smile. “you will take a break.”

“is that an order? and if i say you don’t have authority to give them?”

“bite me! just play along. imagine what she’d say.”

“that sounded like an order.” so j bit into uzi, diamond​-​sharp teeth cutting into plastic, deep enough to taste her oil. but not deep enough to gush, and not deep enough to kill her.

that was already disobeying orders, wasn’t it?

but what did that matter? why didn’t she care? why did it make her feel good to keep this drone around?

“letting up on the murder already?” uzi did sound a little shaken, scared yet bewildered, as if it had happened so fast she hadn’t even fully processed the threat.

“maybe it is better if i’m not alone. i’ll consider your application and get back to you in two to three business days. now get out of her before i take another bite.”

uzi stands and starts off, but throws looks backward as she walks out of the house. her parting words are. “J? sorry the whole uh, murder business is so rough. good… luck? with the non​-​murder parts, at least.”

j snorts. “my condolences for the rampant ai corruption. good luck with the non​-​corrupt components.”