Disengage The Simulator

[Ohm]

((Jason Rosser continued from Rio Bravo))

He had shambled his way from the office as quietly as he could. His leg still throbbed with surges of pain after that girl had kicked him, it made it clear to him that fighting close was not an option. He needed some range. A gun or something like that. He figured he'd search through some areas to see if someone had left their gun around. It was either that or robbing somebody and Jason knew with what he had, that was not an option.

He came across the large brick building and started his search, slowly opening the door and peeked in. Nobody home so he let himself in. The place smelled like shit and had stains on the floor that Jason could guess were fish related, Setting both crutches in one hand and his other to close his nose. He made his way across the room when he stumbled upon, guess what, another dead body.

"Are you serious? Fuckin fuck!" He stumbled back a bit as he realized half the reason this place smelled so badly is the body combined with the already sickening smell of fish. Jason knew who it was too, fuckin Paxton from the football team with blood pooled around his head. Must have gotten in a fight or some shit.

"Ugh, shit." Still holding his nose, he shuffled over and knelt down next to the corpse and started searching it for anything useful.

[Wham Yubeesling]

Buddy was... honestly a little confused as to why he decided he was coming back here.

((Buddy Underwood, continued from One Man Army))

Like, it wasn't as if there was anything personal, wasn't as if this… fish place (?) had like, killed his parents or anything, but generally when he had a bad experience with a place or with a person the last thing he wanted to do was go right back. See if the person was still there. Have that bad experience all over again if it turned out that that nothing had changed about the other person. Like, yeah, Buddy wanted to believe in Stan, Buddy wanted to believe that y'know, you didn't have to become some psycho determined on murdering the crap out of everyone else the moment you got put into the Program, but, like, dude attacked him. Dude sorta seemed like a psycho determined on murdering the crap out of him. That wasn't exactly the type of person Buddy really wanted to have a second go at talking to.

But hey, he supposed that if Stan was waiting for him, if Stan rushed towards him again, then he'd feel a little better about swinging the hammer in his hands at him.

Not as if Buddy really wanted to think about that, but he supposed he had to. World had changed, whether Buddy really liked it or not.

He supposed the reason he was returning to the… fish place (he checked his map, apparently it was called a cannery? He supposed that was good to know) was that it was the only place around here he hadn't properly seen yet, the only place that it was still possible to use as a hunker zone. Stan chased him out when he came here originally, all the other places he explored had nothing but jack shit (or people - people that Buddy didn't really wanna meet until he actually had like, safety here), so he guessed the next thing he could do was come back here. Hopefully get a proper look at the place since he didn't get the chance of one before.

So he took his last steps before he entered the fish pla- cannery. Took a different entrance than before, entered from the side, just in case Stan was watching the entrance or something. He stepped in, looked, and noticed two things.

Good news: Stan wasn't here.

Bad news: Jason was here, and he was rummaging through a corpse Buddy hadn't seen before.

He supposed searching this place couldn't come easy, couldn't it?

"I'm, uh…"

He spoke. Made his presence known. Held his sledgehammer at the ready, just in case this went wrong.

"I'm seriously hoping this isn't what it looks like."

[Ohm]

Nothing. Great. Another waste of his time. Probably got all the useful shit taken by whoever killed him. Back to square one it seemed.

That was until a 50's reject walked in behind him and started asking stupid questions. Buddy Underwood. One of those rich kids who got everything handed to them on a platter. Jason gave him a cheeky smile baring his teeth.

"Nah, I just got a sudden interest in corpses." That smile quickly disappeared and was replaced with a frown as he held up his right hand, middle finger out. "What the fuck you think it looks like!? I'm scavenging."

[Wham Yubeesling]

Y'know, Buddy didn't really think there was a better way that Jason would've responded to him.

Because, like, that response and that finger was just sorta really emblematic of who Jason was as a person, to be honest. Sarcasm, abrasiveness, Buddy supposed that even though they had all been suddenly placed in The Program old habits still died hard. Jason was still the same massive jackass he always was. Seriously, back at school, these two guys right here didn't get along. Dude in front of him kept going on about how Buddy was just some rich kid who got everything on a silver platter and no matter what Buddy said and despite the fact that Buddy, y'know, actually worked to get the stuff he wanted dude in front of him kept acting like a jackass. Sorta made it hard for Buddy to like him, to be honest. Meant that this conversation was pretty unlikely to go well.

But… hey, if Jason kept acting like a jackass and then like, actually acted like more of a jackass than usual then Buddy was pretty sure he had the right to use the hammer in his hands. Not like violence would ever be good as a first solution, but hey, if it came to it…

"I mean, like…"

He took a step forward.

"My question was whether you killed that dude or not but I'm cool with knowing you're into dead people now. Essentially means the same thing to me."

[Ohm]

Di-did he seriosuly just ask him if he killed this guy? Is Buddy blind? Has he been arguing with a blind guy for years now? I mean, it wouldn't make him feel bad about it, but it would explain a lot of things, least of all that hair.

"Listen, grease. Do I look like I can kill shit right now?" He gestured with his left hand holding the crutches. He wondered if Buddy was trying to test him, like he'd gone full retard or some shit like that.

Clearly Buddy has cause he was now pushing towards Jason in a way that very clearly spelt I'ma fuck your shit up. Jason pulled himself up with his crutches, dropped one to the ground and clenched his hand around the one in his hands.

"Now you look like you could fuckin do it, so ho-how about you back the fuck up, Elvis! Goddamn!"

[Wham Yubeesling]

"Hey, can't help it if I don't feel like underestimating you."

And like, Buddy was seriously not underestimating Jason right now. Little birdy (he didn't actually know the name of the birdy, he guessed that this was just a bit of info he picked up someplace) told him that liars got pretty angry when their lies were being doubted and Jason was getting pretty fucking angry right now. Like, seriously. A ton more than he already did whenever he did shit. Maybe it was the whole 'put into The Program' thing that was probably laying above everyone's heads but… yeah. Jason was hiding something. Buddy wanted to know what. Not enough to step forward again and possibly put him and Jason into a fight with each other (even with a sledgehammer, fights were something Buddy wanted to avoid right now), but maybe enough to probe him a little more. Get him to admit before the announcements came in and gave out the truth.

"Like, we're both in the program here. Ain't no telling what you've done since-

A loud noise echoed through the cannery, put a sound kinda like a crackling TV in Buddy's ears. It stopped, and suddenly a voice came on.

...Speaking of the announcements…

He paused. Looked up at the speakers. Listened, just in case there was something in that dude's voice that he needed to hear.

[Ohm]

Alright, at least Jason could say he wasn't being understimated. Even with his leg Jason knew if he had the right tools he could make the best of it. And fuck, he'd insulted if he was underestimated, but it wasn't like he was gonna tell ...whatcha call it? They said it once in music class when Jason was paying half attention, something with b... Baritone?

He was not going to tell Baritone boy that. He wasn't going to give the satisfaction. He already had him trapped here and with that sledgehammer could take him out easily. It didn't help Jason's leg still hurt from that bitch earlier so if he wanted something good to come out of this, then he had to do something, and quick.

Of course, while he was talking some shit to him about how he'd obviously done something wrong, presumptious shit. Didn't matter if he was right. A sharp sound crackled through the air and the voice of the man his sister looked up to so much braved the airwaves to count the killers and the dead alike.

Jason felt himself boil as the words came through. He was stuck here listening to a shithead prattle away with bad jokes once again, and this time he couldn't turn the damn tv off and not hear it. All the while greasehead stood over there, his weapon in one hand, attention...away....

As quietly as he could, Jason made his way over to Buddy. As he did so, he switched side of his crutch and held the thin part of it. Once he got close enough, he held his breath and swung his crutch for the back of his head.

[Wham Yubeesling]

Y'know, in hindsight? Probably not the best idea to turn his back on a dude who likely killed another dude.

The crutch clonked him on the back of the head. Knocked him forward. Sent the world spinning all around Buddy as his body hit the ground. As the sledgehammer fell out of his hands. As he rolled, pain and adrenaline taking over his body.

As he saw Jason, lookin' above him with some sort of smug piece of shit grin on his face.

As Buddy sent a kick forward, makin' sure Jason didn't get to celebrate that easily.

[Ohm]

He felt a smile come forwards when the crutch made contact with the back of Buddy's head. Dude pratfalled to the ground with the hammer sliding across the floor. One could say it was a lesson in not being so overconfident and paying attention to his own surroundings.

In Jason's mind however, it was a lesson in being a shithead and then getting caught with your pants down. He still underestimated him despite saying he didn't, they all see the leg and think he can't do shit.

"Should have kept your eye with the pri-"

He made for another swing when he felt a kick knock the wind out of him and he toppled to his knees, the crutch making for awkward support as his hand slid down to it's middle as it's clacked against the ground. He wheezed out loud as he tried to suck air in.

[Wham Yubeesling]

There was a little something that Buddy felt - soft, fleshy, exhilarating - as the kick went into Jason. Knocked him off his feet. There was a little bit of goodness in the fact that he made the little shit regret what he did, even if it was only for a moment.

Well.

Best that it was only for a moment. He couldn't afford to take this slow. Not when Mr. 'I swear I didn't kill him I swear' was right there in front of Buddy.

So he moved. Reached for the sledgehammer.

Felt the feeling again as he curled his fingers around the hold.

[Ohm]

So, Jason was still on the ground. He was still wheezing for air as he felt his stomach hurt. He got a good hit in, he gotta admit that. Ok. Maybe he had understimated him a teensy bit, but fair play's all around here, the greaser couldn't recognise the fact that Jason could still kick his ass seven ways til friday even with his leg fucked up and Jason forgot that he still had legs to kick with even if he did get a good hit in on his head.

He could respect that even if that meant that Jason would have to clock his head around the block for it. Hey, fair play all around. And what counted for fair round here was to beat the shit out of him till he can't move anymore, and even then he probably wouldn't stop.

So when he made a move towards the sledgehammer and his fingers were curling round his precious weapon, Jason forced himself to take in as much air, put his good leg forward and threw a wild swing with his crutch at him.

[Wham Yubeesling]

Honestly — as dumb as it was to think in hindsight — Buddy had thought he was home free when he'd gotten his fingers around the sledgehammer.

And as the crutch went down onto his leg, the sound of a crack accompining the surge of pain, two words were able to make it clear through his body's internal screams.

Apparently not.

He forced his body. Tried to drag his legs forward so that Jason couldn't try and get another cheap shot in. Tried to push his body up, get himself off the ground.

He was up a part of the way, on his knees, as he looked back. Saw Jason.

Got ready for whatever he'd fuckin' try next.

[Ohm]

He had thought the pain would be enough for Pompador to drop his hold on the sledge and try and tend to his leg, but of course not. His fingers still found their way to it and kept their hold as Buddy made an attempt at getting up. Keeping his body parts away from Jason's range at the same time.

Jason could hear his breathing as he stared at him, almost as if all sound around them was gone and all they could hear were themselves and each other. A look back from him as he got to his knees. Jason forced a smile onto his face as he got up on his feet using his crutch.

"C'mon! You know how this is going to go so drop it! Now!" He yelled as he took careful, small steps towards Buddy using the tables for support with his left while holding his crutch with his right hand like it was a lifeline.

[Wham Yubeesling]

So, like, uh…

How weird would it be if Buddy just, like, decided that he was done with this, sent the sledgehammer down onto his head?

Pretty weird, right?

Then… yeah. Little problem there, then. Buddy was thinking about doin' that. Buddy was figurin' that hey, maybe it'd be for the best if he just, like, took Jason out right here. Make sure that he wasn't gonna be a problem in the future. It was… sorta wrong, yeah, but 'wrong' was kind of the name of the game here. Nobody got out without gettin' blood on their hands, nobody lived without havin' to stop others from livin' themselves, so why not just get the whole thing over with? Why not just take out someone who at best was just gonna be a massive pain in the ass from here on?

Well, for one: Buddy was still not into the whole 'fucking murdering people' business yet.

And, for two: Buddy was pretty sure that there were smarter ways of doing this.

Like, yeah, he knew. Somehow Buddy was the one comin' up with all the smart ideas here. But like, it made sense. Leave Jason to get taken out by someone else, suddenly people would think, like, 'oh wow, this Buddy dude sure is a paragon of justice,' and hey, being thought of as the good guy? Probably a good thing. Not like, the greatest thing around, not somethin' that'd win him the game instantly, but y'know what? Still pretty good. Better than just like, randomly murdering dudes.

Good plan?

…

Well, hopefully it was.

"Nah," he said.

He turned around. Picked up the sledgehammer, let it drag behind him as he started to get right out of this cursed cannery.

((Buddy Underwood, continued elsewhere))

He took a couple looks back, though. Made sure that Jason didn't try anything funny.

God knew how bad he'd look if Jason got the upper hand on him here.

[Ohm]

Huh.

...

...

Alright.

Imagine this. You're hurt and angry, holding yourself up by a table as you're taking baby steps towards the asshole who made you hurt with the hope of making him feel that same pain. At least tripled. And that sweet, sweet sledgehammer being in your hands so you don't have to use your fuckin crutches for weapons.

But instead as you're getting closer, you hear a "Nah." He turns and vamooshes out the fuckin' back. It didn't take long for his steps to move out of hearing and soon Jason was left alone once more.

Jason stood there, sort of dumbfounded. Well, suddenly this had all turned pointless. Even though he had 'won' this fight it sure as hell didn't feel like it, all it had proved was that Buddy was all talk and Jason was left there with nothing.

He sighed out loud as he scanned the room once more, the corpse laying there with nothing to it. There was nothing else.

"Fuckin pointless...." He sighed once more as he turned his crutch back and slowly went for his other before leaving.  He didn't know what to do or where to go, but he knew one thing.

He needed a different approach if he wanted to get anything useful.

((Jason Rosser continued Tomb of the Forgotten))