Rain From A Drunken Sky
By, NéJ Kazuki
A/N: Wow. So I totally originally wrote this story years ago. And decided to redo it. It's not great, and I'm not to sure what I was thinking of back then. Especially the title's name. I'm…was…still…so weird. So Read and Review?
Disclalimer: I don't own Jak and Daxter. Because if I did, we'd have more Jak and Daxter games out! /sigh
Chapter One
"How ya doin'" Kleever asked, pushing a wooden bowl against Damas' chest.
Damas took the bowl, holding it firmly in this tired hands. Despite the great heat of the desert, the heat emitting from the container felt good against his worn fingers. "I'm okay," he replied quietly, staring with an absent mind into soup. His sleepy, sun burnt face gazed back at him.
Kleever patted Damas, an another random worker on the back. "Well that's good! Because we've got another days work ahead of us!" He said sounding quite proud. He jumped to another group of people, laughing. "We all managed to get a good days work in! Not much longer until we've built up our paradise!"
Damas smiled weakly.
All those who were exiled from Haven City joined together. They weren't about to die at the hands of the cruel Wasteland. Damas, despite having no faith in himself, was a major influence on them. He kept them going, striving harder even when he himself didn't think he could carry on. Their former leader, was leading them to a new life. A life in the desert.
Sig walked over, and sat next to Kleever. "It's amazing we haven't run across any Metal Heads yet!"
Kleever rose an eyebrow. Sig had caught his curiosity. "Metal heads?"
"Yeah! Haven City's dealing with them now." He paused, rubbing his chin. "I wonder if there's any in the Wasteland?" He sounded somewhat dreamily. Kleever rose his other eyebrow, and gave Sig a baffled look.
"You are weird boy."
Damas sighed, sitting up wearily. He began to wander away from their camp. His heart was heavy with grief. The man found himself a rocky ledge, jerking out about the ocean. Damas sat down. The wind to his back, stars hanging in the sky above reflected against the ocean like floating lamps.
He thought to himself, everything that has gone right, and everything that had gone wrong…
He lost everything…
Damas found himself shaking, quivering. He had no one to comfort him, no one to embrace. Not the once warm slender body that fitted perfectly in his arms. Lost of her soft touch, and sweet smell of her hair that would brush against his face. He no longer had a son to cradle in his arms to sleep.
Damas lost himself, and let the tears flow freely. He couldn't keep it in, it was driving him insane. His body continued to quake, he felt weak. Dizzy, his eyes clouded. So badly he felt like dying. But he couldn't…he had to go on…
But why?