Work Text:
It was all going to plan.
Jeremiah was perched on a sandstone formation, the rock jutting out of the sand, surface scalding hot after days of baking in the sun. His binoculars were pointed at a distant cloud of dust and radioactive fumes, occasionally a flash of scales shone beneath the debris.
He had been trailing Rust since the ambush in the ruined city, keeping a close eye on the man, as well as the device hidden under his hood.
Jeremiah had done his part, all that was left was to wait.
He couldn’t quite tell how the fight against the Vurm was going from this far away, but the rewind mod would make sure that Rust succeeded eventually. The crack of the shotgun rang out intermittently in the silent desert, the only sound for miles.
Sado was waiting in the next arena, having disposed of the actual third boss. Tall Jane’s remains were strewn across the expanse of the forest, her jacket and hat repossessed for their own purposes.
Truthfully, Jeremiah isn’t sure how the clown became involved in this venture. Reginald had merely said something about ‘mutual interests’ before the woman arrived at the inn.
He hoped the other man knew what he was getting himself into, Jeremiah did not like owing people things, much less favors. And the idea of owing a favor to Dark Clown Sado was… unpleasant, to say the least.
‘Mir willing, she’s forced to cash it in before she’s able to really think about what she wants.
This world was already straining under her presence, a distinct kind of disorder, that differed from Lionel’s own incompetence. Her data was spreading and saturating the game, assets and textures sinking into the void, entire map tiles flickering out of existence.
The player’s field of view was kept clean, of course.
For the most part.
Jeremiah huffed a laugh, setting the binoculars aside, before immediately startling.
Sado was sitting next to him, staring intently in the direction of the fight and grinning. The lanky woman’s legs were drawn up to her chest, her coat-skirt fanned out around her. She looked precarious, teetering on the edge of the rough stone, yet somehow impossibly secure at the same time.
“Soooooo, Jerry–”
“Jeremiah.”
She giggled.
“You’re so funny, Jerry!”
Over the course of their time here, the most pressing issue was seemingly that of his name. Sado’s insistence on the nickname, more specifically. Unsurprisingly, she never budged on it.
He sighed, adjusting his monocle.
“What do you want.”
Her line of sight flicked back to Rust, hungry, like a butcher sizing up a cut of meat. The clown’s uneven white teeth failed to hide her fangs, twitching of their own accord, eager.
Sado’s voice pitched deeper when she spoke again.
“I just wanted to watch.”
This player's performance wasn’t great, to say the least. There was a reason they had the mods installed that they did. Not exactly a strategically-minded individual.
He couldn’t imagine that this made great entertainment, especially by Sado’s standards.
Jeremiah just shrugged.
“Hm, you finished setting up though, right?”
“No :)”
He sputtered.
“What!?”
The woman next to him cackled, her head thrown back as she laughed.
“Jerry! Jeremy, Germ, Jeremiah…I don’t ‘set up’ anything.”
He opened his mouth to snap at her.
Another gunshot came, and they both went still, he held up a paw.
“Shh, listen.”
The fight was over, the clouds slowly clearing to reveal two distant figures.
He scrambled for his cloak, glancing back at Sado as he gathered his belongings.
“Do whatever you want, but only target the boy. I need Rust broken, not dead.”
She smiled widely, disappearing with a soft crack. The world folding in where she once was.
Jeremiah squinted against the glare of the desert sun, the two Wasteworlders were already disappearing over the horizon. He just needed to stay close until they fell into the void.
He could lead Rust to the inn then, the man would certainly be confused enough to listen.
Reginald could handle the warm welcome, Jeremiah just needed to get him there.