Author's Note: Yup, another one. And this one takes "wrong" to a whole new level. Good Lord.
Also, Jaygoose is one kickass beta. Give her love. Now!
A Hero's Lament, Round 3
For two years, they had been reduced to mere hunters chasing down their ever elusive prey – forced to use whatever dirty trick they could think of, even if it meant breaking every rule and fragment of common sense.
Not this year. This year, they were going to do it fairly.
Using missiles and mines, but still.
It had taken a bit of preparation of course, but it had been completely worth it in the end. Now, everything was set up and had proceeded surprisingly smooth.
The weather smiled upon the day. The sun happily shone down on the world, with a warm breeze flowing over the area we're currently going to look at. Brightly colored flags swept against the clear blue sky, adding more color to the scenery. As if we needed more color than pink, when all over the world people turned on their TVs and were met with a vision of very, very light red, blond hair, and a square face sporting a frighteningly huge smile.
"Hello all you race fans and love birds out there! Welcome to our Valentine's day special!"
Hide the children. GT Blitz is on the loose.
He smiled in full force at the cameras, sweeping his hand at the death dome track behind him.
"Those of you who watched our semi-finals this morning already know what's going on, but for all you non-early birds, you have not misread the tabloids! We do indeed have a special for the very special love's day!"
If he was as disturbed by what he was presenting, he did not show it. However, the new audience would soon find out why the charismatic announcer had no qualms about his show deteriorating into a soap opera. He started to move even while talking, the cameras following him perfectly. He stepped onto a podium set up beside the track.
"The finalists are ready to be presented before getting into their cars for the main rumble," he went on, grinning widely.
He stopped walking. Behind him on the podium, the viewers could see something that looked oddly much like the corner of a cage.
"But first, let's have a look at what they're all racing for. For a special day, we have a special reward!"
As it turned out, it was a cage.
"The stakes are high and the prize is the ever elusive… hero!"
The camera panned in on the mini-prison and on the man inside, who was sitting cross-legged and with his arms folded across his chest. The glare from his eyes nearly melted the lens. Frightened by such rage, the widdle camera fled to the safety of its master. Blitz came back into view, but stepped up so that the cage and its inhabitant still remained visible in the background.
The man in pink made a sweeping motion until his entire arm was turned to the prize.
"You heard that right folks, instead of a gold medal the winner here will take home the rising star racer, Jak himself!" GT beamed. He then donned a more sober face. "Sadly, we probably won't be allowed to bring you all the FUN -" he grinned at Jak's snarl in the back, "- from the roundup on that, so you'll just have to sit back and enjoy your mental images."
At this point it was becoming obvious that the announcer was tying himself into a knot trying not to go down in smug hysterics. He faked a cough to collect himself, but the grin still looked more honest than usual when he straightened up again.
"To make sure that no harm comes to the highly desired prize," he went on, "we've gone to great lengths to ensure security. This safety cage was designed to make sure nothing can get at what's inside."
Jak rolled his eyes, grumbling something about safety cages and his own behind. Luckily the mic did not catch it, as Blitz was still at his loud reassurances. From a pink pocket he produced a handkerchief.
"Allow me to demonstrate," he cheerfully said and turned around.
He quickly fisted the piece of cloth into a small ball and flung it at the cage from a safe distance. The handkerchief fell through the air, moving towards the open space between two bars…
... but hit one of them and exploded in flames. Jak's head dropped just the slightest.
"There you have it!" Blitz said, returning to the cameras, "I wouldn't recommend trying anything with this superheated protection. So you've got nothing to worry about, Jak. Just sit back and enjoy the show with the rest of us."
Somehow he managed to survive beaming at the fuming prize.
"Hey, what's with that look? You should be grateful we went with the cage idea. There were actually three people wanting to string you up by your arms to keep you out of reach."
A very soft chuckle was heard in the background as Jak pinched his eyes tightly shut.
"It would have been oh so cute," came the chuckling voice from the side, each word laced with a heavy accent. Safely out of the microphone's reach, too.
Jak growled.
The two cameras took off in a direction each, one taking in the racers as they stepped up to the podium. And the other camera focused on Jak, their teamwork creating a split screen for the viewers – so that all over the world, the viewers could enjoy watching the green eyebrows twitch by spasms at the sight of the finalists. On the other hand, more than half of the newly arrived racers made people's mouths fall agape in disbelief all over the same world.
Actually, out of the six people stepping up on the platform, only two did not warrant rubbing one's eyes in disbelief. That was disregarding the orange rat sitting on the shoulder of one of the last racers.
"Aaand here are the skilled finalists who fought their way up to this grand prix!" Blitz cheerfully said and headed straight for them, "while some are surprising upstarts, it would have been surprising not to see a couple of them here."
The first in the line gave something more than his practiced, controlled smile normally reserved for the cameras.
"If it isn't Razer!" GT said, beaming brightly, "no surprises there."
He jabbed the mic at the handsome face.
"And what do you think about the prize?" Blitz asked.
He actually did know better than to ask Razer anything of the sort on a live show, but he simply could not help himself.
Razer took a moment to light a cigarette, bending his head a little so that he could watch the cage from the top of his eyes. A dainty smile curled his lips.
"I believe we shall need more… safety," he said, thoughtfully.
A snort came from a little ways away, sounding very much like "weakling…". Luckily the mic could not catch it and Razer's smile merely dropped to a sneer as he glanced towards the culprit.
In the cage, Jak massaged his throbbing temples. While this was going on, Blitz tore himself from the manic fascination of whatever Razer may say next – soul searching said he really did not want to know, and he certainly did not want it on his show. So he took the mic back before his pet-racer could evaluate his statement.
"Yes, that's our Razer!" Blitz said with a hearty laugh, "always putting safety first!"
One could almost hear the worldwide groan and headshakes as people reached their own conclusions and made comments on the announcer's own little slip. Most of the contestants didn't even try to mask their dismay. Unfazed by this, the Pink One left Razer behind and headed towards the nearest next contestant, who straightened up from having his eyes buried in a hand. Dignity restored, he faced the commentator.
"And we have a special guest racer on the track today!" GT swirled on, the camera following his sweeping form as he prepared to fling the mic into a new face, "the famous commander of Haven City's now-defunct Krimzon Guard! So tell us, commander Erol... shouldn't you be dead?"
Erol regarded him with the antipode of interest, and gave the mic a suspicious glare before speaking into it. The camera only got an idle glance.
"Technically, yes, but it was a great disappointment for the fans that I was not brought into this game as a playable racer," he said.
GT gave a bright-smile nod and brought the mic back to his own face while still looking at the commander.
"Yes, but many also expressed their delight of having Razer inst-yip!"
The last sound was due to Erol's fingertips digging into a meaty wrist and wringing the mic back towards his thin lips. The huge grin turned downwards, but this did in no way faze the commander.
"Oh, I'm certain he has his charms," Erol said, and now he was smiling. "Just like your sport. However, I am curious about whether or not any of you could win a race without such crude methods as blowing your opponents to smithereens."
The camera spun to Razer, just in time to catch him gazing at Erol through a cloud of smoke and mouthing "let's find out, Herzchen".
The camera also, along with the mic, caught Erol's reply.
"I'm going to kill you."
GT made an annoyed motion, trying to rip himself free. This only got Erol's attention returned to the man in pink, at first.
"Either way," the commander said, forcibly controlled, "if my life or death is a concern to you, what do you say about some of the odder challengers?"
He finally let go, pointing down the line of grim racers. And in a single stroke, the apparent annoyance in the yellow eyes shattered in a wide leer. The camera turned like a curious fish, giving the viewers one of the more bizarre images in the history of TV.
A young man dressed in a blue tunic and white pants glared towards the finger pointing at him, defiantly but with a distinct slap of anxiety in his blue eyes. He sidled further away, until an arm decked up in a grey-blue sleeve rose up to shield him, leaving only the mop of green-blond hair visible of the head. The man who stepped between the boy and Erol had a build eerily similar to that of the youngster, but he had more facial hair – and speaking of hair his fell down in thick blond curls instead of being an upwards poof.
A third blondie stepped up beside the second one, arms folded across an even more muscular chest – decked up in full armor made from precursor metal. This one's hair was hacked off without any sign of real concern for the ending result.
All three of them looked a bit different, but they had that whole similar hair business going on. Furthermore, their bodies and faces were frighteningly alike in shape, and they all wore a thick metal ring strapped over their chests.
"Why yes, this is quite a strange occasion!" GT shouted as he crossed the distance to the three men. "What we see here, folks, are versions of the main event's past! So…"
He held the mic to the two elder incarnations of Jak.
"… what's your reason for entering this competition? Having your eyes on the prize is a bit… ah… unconventional for you, considering all."
Both men moved to reply, but the armored was closer to the mic.
"We're here to put an end to everyone else," he said, eyes narrowing down the line.
"What he said," the long-haired one said, glaring even harder.
The boy grimly nodded, then ducked behind his elders when Erol leered at him again. Jak 2 gave him a rather annoyed look, but it didn't last long. The slightly older hero softened after only a moment, shaking his head at the kid. It seemed to calm the boy down enough to make him step forwards again, but he tried to avoid looking towards Erol.
"And lemme tell you it wasn't easy to get all of them into one place at the same time!" a voice came from Jak 2's shoulder.
Daxter straightened up, arms folded.
"I note you could have raced as well," GT said, a suspicious note creeping into his voice. "Any special reason you didn't?"
Daxter was never good at faking innocence.
"Huh?" he said, looking away. "Why, of course not! I was just not up for getting blown to pieces by ol' Ginger."
Erol said something down the line about not getting away no matter what he tried. Daxter gulped, pretending not to look for support.
"He's a mascot," Jak 3 said.
"Hey!"
GT watched the young men with remaining suspicion, wondering if he should cross-examine them about the use of the ottsel. Something about it did not seem to add up.
But time was running for the show and he had to abandon it.
"Well, good luck to all three of you then," he said and turned away.
He left behind grumbles about "mascot? Is that all I am to you?" which could have gone on and on and on had Jak 2 not lifted Daxter from his shoulder and set him down on the first hero's instead.
"I think he needs you more than I do," the renegade said, shooting a dirty glare at the smirking Erol.
Daxter checked on the kid's face, noting how unease drained just a little from it. A small hand patted a blond head.
"Don't worry kiddo, I won't let him provoke ya. You're safe in my hands!"
The kid did not look convinced, but he smiled a little at least. Jak 3 looked like he was more worried about provocation when it came to the outlaw of their troop.
One of the cameras had curiously remained focused on the blond trio to catch not the verbal exchange, but the movement of the ottsel and the facial expressions. All over the world people went "Awww…". Then the camera swept away to follow GT. He was aiming for the last racer.
"And while we broke the 'ladies first' rule in this interview -"
Erol wasn't the only one moving his gaze between the announcer and Razer with "did we really?" written all over his face. The Elegant One merely raised an eyebrow – and the corner of his mouth – when he caught the commander's eye. At that point Erol snorted in disgust and looked the other way again.
Unaware of all this, GT blathered on with the last, pokerfaced driver.
"- we're still delighted to see the lovely Miss Rayn herself here with us today!"
He almost managed to sound honest. Almost.
It may have been more authentic if he and the young lady had not been exchanging murderous glares. Luckily for the show they caught themselves after a second, and GT cleared his throat.
"So, what's your reason for being in the contest?" he said, then continued before she had a chance to speak up. "Rumor has it you girls had a bit of a vendetta going."
Only then did he offer the mic.
"Certainly not," Rayn said in a perfectly controlled voice, "I simply got the best score in the semi finals."
"By blowing up the other ladies in the Deathmatch."
"That has nothing to do with anything, Mr. Blitz."
"Reeeally."
He smiled brightly.
"Well, I guess my informants were drunk then!" he cheerfully said. "But what is the drive behind your success, then?"
"I merely intend to enlist Jak's aid in the business I've got going, and…"
She narrowed her eyes.
"… to get a chance to discuss his connection to my father."
Jak 2 sourly looked around in the moment of silence that followed.
"What? Hey, don't look at me!" he finally snapped.
Of course, GT was not easily deterred and swirled around to the cameras, the glaring Rayn still in the background.
"So there you have it folks, all the feisty racers up for the challenge! But now we should all realize that we actually haven't gotten a comment from the prize!" GT said as he stepped back and turned to the main event. "So Jak, do you have anything to say before the race starts?"
He offered the mic to the cage, but took care not to get too close to the bars.
"This isn't funny!" the imprisoned hero snarled.
"Yes it is!" Erol and Razer called back, perfectly in sync.
Everything fell silent for a moment, even the two opponents looking at each other in bafflement.
Then the world shrugged and went back to the interesting stuff.
"Alright then boys and girl," GT cheerfully started up, "the rules are the same as usual. One lap around the track only, no holds barred. And we've got the respawn feature hooked up for this round too, so feel free to blow each other to kingdom come."
He paused for a second, then smiled even brighter.
"Oh yes, before I forget," he said, as easy as a comment about the weather, "to spice things up there'll be a greater chance than normal of getting peace makers from the yellow eco canisters."
Jak 3 slapped his second incarnation over the head to take away the psychotic grin before the cameras caught it.
The most disturbing thing was of course that nobody even stopped to question how in the world any such thing as a "respawn feature" could possibly work.
But that was the cue to move, and the racers turned to head for their waiting vehicles just beyond the podium. And they exchanged murder glares all the way. The cameras remained by GT, who stayed nearby the imprisoned prize. However, the focus followed the competitors as they got to the starting line and began to get into their cars.
It promised to be an interesting race indeed.
Jak 3 moved over to the youngest racer's car for a moment as the kid sat down, Daxter hopping onto the passenger seat for once. The elder leaned in and muttered something, but as the car was at the farthest end of the lineup, it was impossible to tell what he said.
The cameras may have caught a flash of light, but it was questionable.
Only a couple of seconds did the wastelander stand there, then he left the kid. Walking past the renegade's car, he hopped into his own.
Everyone ready.
The countdown light activated.
Red.
Red.
Green.
"And they're off!" GT shouted.
And they most certainly were. The smell of burnt rubber filled the air, staying only marginally longer than the ringing that remained in Jak X and GT's ears after the screech of the starts. A widescreen behind the podium gave a view for the commentator to keep track of the race – and something for the prize to watch while feeling quite uneasy.
Not that he doubted himself… selves, of course. But still. He'd been on the bad end of a peace maker shot two seconds from the finish line quite a few times.
"Ooh, that hurt!" GT shouted as Razer took out the three leading cars with one such shot alone.
Well, that oughta teach Rayn, Erol and Jak 2 not to stay too close to each other, even if they were trying to smash their opponents off the track.
How they were going to send people flying otherwise would have to be their headache.
And Razer took the lead, while the demolished cars reappeared in just about the same spot they had gone down at – but at that point the other two Jaks had already passed them too.
Jak X tried not admit the sinking feeling any room.
It certainly eased a little when Razer's car went into the ocean moments later, sliding out of control because of the oil patch the youngest racer let loose on the track after turboing past the leader.
Unfortunately, Jak 3 also fell victim to that trick and crashed against the nearest wall.
"Sorry, buddy!" Daxter's shriek reverberated through the speaker system.
"Don't worry, I'm back!" the wastelander shouted back a couple of precious seconds later.
No matter what anyone felt about it, it was turning out to be an interesting race. Which of course meant a lot of explosions, when it came to this sport. Unfortunately, for this particular race that did not only mean piles upon piles of wrecked cars. Oh no. There were even worse things going on, and it was getting on most of the drivers' nerves very, very quickly. They had finally come halfway through the race but even Rayn was starting to wonder how the rest would be manageable.
It was excruciating. And sickening.
"Aren't you too old to be playing with such dangerous toys, fruit loop?"
"I'm quite mature. Are you?"
"Don't make me go commander on you to prove it."
"Watch it, that sounds tempting."
"You couldn't handle it!"
At this point, all the other racers had enough trouble to stay on the track without letting the nausea take over. Unfortunately for them, it didn't get any better – quite the opposite, actually. And whether they realized it or not, the veteran racer-duo were gaining ground from everyone else due to just that. Not that they went down without a fight.
"All of you stay out of my way or I'll pound your asses into the asphalt!" Erol snarled as he passed another couple of cars.
"My, my, such crude language, commander. There's no need to pound any asses just yet," Razer smoothly commented. "Let's save that for the after party shall we?"
Erol snarled.
"Oh you'd love that wouldn't you? That's why you spend so much time in back?"
"Ohoho. You won't see me coming, but you'll feel the explosion!"
You knew it was bad when Razer picked out his ace. Even worse, Erol had his response ready this time too.
"I don't need rockets to see you spread all over the track!"
That just did it.
"Will you two lollipops save us the porn and get a room?" Daxter shouted over the intercom, "we've got minors here!"
"Never stopped him before."
Jak 2's voice seethed through the speakers, accompanied with a crackle of dark eco.
"How dreadfully horrid," Razer commented. Though he hardly sounded like he was horrified.
He paused for a moment, for apparent show.
"Though I seem to recall that at least one of you is eighteen, boys."
That was the last thing he said before his car flew off the road and into the ocean. Again.
In his car, Jak 3 gnashed his teeth as he lifted his fist from the "front weapons" button, eyes trying to sear the track ahead.
Erol's snicker was cut short as another peace maker was acquired by Jak One – and instantly fired, to the sound of Daxter's wild cheering.
"Revenge is a dish best served hot, ladies and gents!" GT cheerfully shouted as the wide screen lit up with flames.
And the kiddo was in the lead.
At this point however, many of the viewers had probably started noticing something odd. If they hadn't taken note of it before, they certainly did a little while after this last exchange.
The youngest Jak had once again taken the lead after getting passed by the other racers a few times. The distance grew with Razer out of the way and Jak 2 just behind the youngster, a convenient force field protecting the renegade from possible attacks from behind. Not that Erol had fired a single weapon so far, but Rayn had not proven aversive to such tactics.
And she exercised just that now. A bright flare shot from the cannons on her car and sped up the track with a frightening single-mindedness. In the leading car, a monitor flashed an alarming, broken square standing on one corner – and shrinking quickly.
"Incoming!" Daxter shrieked.
A curse came from Jak 2's car as his force field decided that this was a good time to give in. And despite this, he grabbed his mic and snarled into it.
"Hit the brake!"
With a sharp shriek from the tires, the youngster's car slid forwards on burnt rubber – and the renegade shot past him, going up in flames a second later.
It was at this point that people should have started to realize that so far, the youngest hero had been oddly spared from any need of the respawn function. He had not, actually, died even once.
"You can't protect him forever, you know," Erol silkily commented as he shot past the car with the kid and ottsel.
Jak 2 merely growled back in the moment he could speak again – but at that point he had been passed by everyone else. He was hot on their trail, however.
With a shriek of rage and an unhealthy crash, Rayn was sent to last place by a few good shots and a mine delivered by Razer. With a turbo dash, the veteran passed the first Jak and inched closer and closer to Erol at top speed.
Disturbingly enough, the finish line was also getting very, very close at this point. Jak X's face was starting to take on a rather interesting shade of green as he watched the latest events unfold.
That was when his two later incarnations waved at each other.
"Hey, Erol!"
The manic grin in the renegade's voice even made his other versions' skin crawl. Erol winced before he could catch himself.
"Saved this one for you," Jak 2 smirked.
His hand slammed down on the Fire button, and a peace maker blast flared across the track.
"Dirty little fr-!"
And boom went the Erol.
Razer got half a second to smirk before his panels flashed a warning. Unluckily, he had no rear weapon to defend himself with, which was why the rockets successfully connected. And when rockets connect, things go up in flames.
And so, yes… boom went the Razer. Unfortunately, the debris of the ruined car got in Jak 3's way so that he swerved to the side and lost the lead. Despite this one could have heard something sounding suspiciously like laughter if his mic had caught his breathing.
But the bottom line was that he lost the lead and the nimble car belonging to the very first version of Jak blasted across the finish line.
The caged Jak's first reaction was to allow himself a healthy sigh of relief. Then his eyes turned skyways.
"Well, this is gonna be odd…" he grunted.
His attention was drawn back downwards by a sweep of pink as GT Blitz flung his hand up.
"And we have a winner!"
He turned to fire off a thoroughly amused look at the eye-rolling prisoner.
"Looks like you've got a date with yourself after all, Jak. What're the odds?"
The announcer cracked up at this point, proving that he could laugh heartily and not only give off that plastic chuckle normally reserved for the camera. But doing this, Blitz failed to note what the cameras saw – that Jak had been reduced to blinking in surprise and looking at something out of view.
GT caught himself after only a couple of seconds and straightened himself, though the honest amusement still remained in his huge smile.
"At least you can be certain you won't find yourselves at a loss of things in common," he brightly said, "though the conversation may turn a little one sided, from the look of things- huh?"
He was cut off by a big but still somewhat slender hand reaching within the camera's sight and tapping on his broad back. GT turned around, and blinked as he found himself facing a pair of baby blue eyes, a wide, bright smile and a plume of blond-green hair.
He couldn't stop himself.
"Hey, what're you doing here?" GT blubbered. "Shouldn't you-?"
The young Jak simply grinned and pointed to the winner's car, which just swerved to a halt a little ways away. Daxter hopped into view on its roof, grin bigger than the rest of his head and two tiny fingers raised to the sky in the V-sign.
"Hah-HA!" his voice cried out.
Even as the smell of burnt rubber whiffed towards the silent trio by and in the cage, the roof-panel of the car was flung out of the way. A boot slammed down on the car's headboard, raising a scrawny body upwards from the driver's seat.
The ocean wind pushed and kneaded a simple tunic and loose pants, played in the hair. The hair which stood out against the bright blue sky with its warm yellow roots, melting into orange and tipped in red at the end of the plume.
It was a vision of freckles and a wide, triumphant grin as bony fingers followed the ottsel's example, aiming a victory sign at the other approaching cars.
"Suckers! I win!" Daxter hollered.
Jak 2 was out of his car before it had even stopped properly, dashing up to stand between both the loudmouths and the other racers. It seemed a very wise choice as moments later, Erol was out of his car.
"That's cheating!" he snarled.
The human Daxter leant forwards, slouching one arm over Jak 2's shoulder and plonking his other elbow onto the piece of armor his fuzzier form normally sat on. Smirking his face off, he leant his chin in the up-turned hand.
"Whazzap, Gingerbread, can't take losing again?"
"You weren't part of the competition!"
"Put a cork tree in it, I raced and I won. Got two hundred million viewers as eyewitnesses, so hah! Less luck next year, Mr. first class loser! That goes for you too, fruit basket!"
The last was aimed at Razer, who just stepped out of his car. If anyone would have given it time, they might have started wondering about the fact that he seemed strangely cool for just having lost to such dirty tricks. Only Rayn noted the way he looked, but she dismissed the immediate suspicion to preserve her sanity.
Bad tactic. She could have been prepared.
Daxter, meanwhile (both of him) focused on getting out of the winner's car. This was helped by the appearance of Jak 3, whom together with the second blondie lifted the redhead by his arms and set him on the ground, grinning with him. The ottsel settled for the third version's shoulder as they walked up and onto the podium.
Not even GT Blitz felt suicidal enough to start arguing with two versions of Jak displaying "one word and you get the Darkie treatment" looks. He just gave the sign to open the cage. Somewhere, a dumbfounded techie pushed a button.
With a hiss one side of the small prison was raised, and Jak X quickly stepped out. Despite his caution, his gaze curiously flitted between his youngest self and the grinning redhead.
Then he caught the eyes of his third incarnation, who winked, grinning widely as he made a thumbs up. A flash of white eco sparkled around the thumb for a second – power to freeze time and move before anybody could notice it. Or move one driver from his car and replace him with another.
With that the prize's confusion AND anger shattered. He grabbed the human sidekick and ruffled his hair, silently laughing at the loud – but quite delighted – protests. The other Jaks exchanged wide smiles.
A distant crash was heard in the background. Not a car crash kind of crash, though still a bit too hard to be pleasant. Somebody started to say something, but was cut off.
GT hardly even recognized that something was going on, busy speaking with the camera.
"So that's our Valentine's Day special wrap up, folks! A heartwarming reunion –" he made a funny face here from trying not to gag, "– between childhood friends! So, do you lovebirds have anything to say before we move on to the death races?"
He turned around during the final words, jabbing the mic at Jak X and Daxter. With some puzzlement however, the show master found the two of them to be ignoring him completely. This would normally have annoyed rather than puzzled him, but the way that their mouths and eyes were wide open perked his curiosity instead.
"What?" he said.
No reaction. With a vague sense of interest, he waved a hand in front of Jak's eyes. Still no reaction.
For a moment it seemed like a too tempting chance to kill off the annoyance once and for all, but something was off…
Blitz finally took note of the complete silence. He looked around, noting that every last racer in sight had the exact same look on their faces, staring at the exact same point as the young men.
Blitz turned to find out whatever it could be that was so surprising.
And the mic slid from nerveless fingers, the crash slamming through the speakers of every TV turned on to watch this event. This angered many a viewer.
Then the camera curiously turned to follow its master's movements.
And all over the world, the chins of two hundred million viewers hit the floor with a solid thunk. It even echoed across the silent racetrack.
It remained a mystery how Erol's racing mask had ended up on the ground, but one could imagine it being plucked off by nimble fingers, which then briskly let it slide. How that had worked without a fight to the death still remained unexplained.
The rest was no mystery. Only horrific.
The horror that was Erol's cruel eyes sprung wide open in shock. The horror that was two fingers in yellow gloves tucked beneath the collar of the taut second skin that was his racing gear. And an arm draped in exquisite wine red – not only draped up itself, but also draped around the commander's slim back.
Speaking of back, that was the direction his head was tipping in a graceful little curve, though from the look on his face he had not quite agreed on such a thing. It was just the natural reaction to being dumbstruck from having his personal space thoroughly invaded.
Especially as far as his mouth was concerned.
GT finally found his voice. Though a tiny version of it.
"Razer…" he weakly complained, "not on global television…"
With a roll of his green eyes and a delicate little snort of disdain Razer let go and turned to the man in pink. Erol, meanwhile, staggered backwards like an out of control marionette with a completely blank look on his face.
"I wish to recall my contract stating that you would not interfere in my personal matters," Razer said, eyebrows lowering dangerously. "I must protest-"
He was cut short, turning to give a sly smile to the hand clamped onto his arm.
The commander of the Krimzon Guard had regained his footing.
"Uh…" Erol growled in his most threatening manner. Or at least that probably was his intention – or the intention of the parts of his brain that still could string two thoughts together.
It may be safe to say that he had no rules of conduct for being on the receiving end of molestation.
"I normally prefer blondes," Razer said, tilting his head and lowering his eyelids just a little. "For you however, I can make an exception."
It seemed like being associated with people he hated was the hop-start Erol needed to awaken. He sprung up straight, grabbing a finely bent and wide collar and ripped Razer… maybe a little too close than needed.
"I'm going to kill you. Slow and painful."
Jak X raised his hands and firmly covered the human Daxter's ears to save him from hearing Razer's chuckle.
"I bet you tell all your boys that," Razer said.
It was more of a purr, to be honest.
Brrr.
There was a groan as Jak 2 turned away, leaning his forehead in a hand.
"Yes, yes he does," the pretty-boy muttered.
"You shut up."
Erol looked like he was about to elaborate on that command, but Razer grabbed the tattooed one's face and turned it back. This move made many a character blink at the mere atrocity of it all.
"Never mind him, mein Hase," the man in red said. "I think we were talking about us."
His hand was slapped away quite brusquely – once Erol got over the shock.
"The hell did you call me?" he snarled.
"Oh, I may tell you if you're a good boy."
"… death is too good for you."
They had begun to move away, but they could hardly get away quick enough. Every step of the way until the, uhm, flamboyant two finally got out of sight, everyone else were left staring in disgusted fascination.
When the air finally cleared, GT was the first to move.
"Well, ah… to the death races then…"
And thus subdued, he stepped down onto the track and wandered off towards the sunset, mumbling something about being single.
Then there was a distant shout of horror coming from his direction. He may at that point have realized that Razer's apartment was also his.
Left were the Jaks, Daxters, and Rayn. Or at least, she was left until she staggered off, shaking her head and looking like she only had one plan in her mind – getting dead drunk to wash away the mental images.
Daxter finally awoke from the spell when the lady took off. It took a few tries, though.
"Uhh, didn't everyone who lost get teleported back to where they belonged, last year?" the ottsel eventually managed to say.
"… yeah…" Jak X said, idly.
They waited for another few moments.
But nothing happened. Why that was, may be considered. Perhaps the powers that be thought it was funnier that way, for reasons perhaps best left alone.
On the contrary, instead of removing characters, there was the sound of sudden steps instead, and a blond shadow jumped onto the podium.
"Hey there, sugars."
They didn't have time to react.
"And you are comin' with me, pretty-boy."
A hand with fingernails darkened by dynamite and tobacco slapped down on Jak 3's shoulder. The blond blinked as he spun around and faced the grinning man behind him.
"… where did you come from?" the wastelander asked, voice just the slightest bit weak.
Jinx grinned around his cigar.
"Reader request. No use fightin' it."
He jabbed his thumb at Jak 2.
"'Sides, I'm still miffed at getting knocked out by him."
Jak 3 opened his mouth to state the obvious, when the ottsel Daxter latched onto the renegade's head. Growling and with all the hair on his tail on end.
The long-haired pretty-boy just raised his eyebrows.
For a moment, the wastelander struggled with himself. But finally his shoulders sagged.
"Oh, fine."
"That's the stuff!" Jinx grinned.
And with that, they too headed off towards the sunset… then realized they were going the same way as GT had gone, and turned the other way instead.
"People sure are finding stuff to do 'round this joint…" the ottsel idly said.
He cleared his throat and hopped onto Jak 2's shoulder.
"So whaddaya say me and you and you leave me and you to their date and go make the town more insecure than it already is?"
"S'that physically possible?" his human version muttered.
"Prolly not, but with this dude around? Hell yeah!" the ottsel happily said, patting the renegade's head.
The remaining Jaks exchanged looks – the oldest silently recommending no weapon training for the youngest. The one in the middle didn't think there was that much reason to be strict, but eventually conceded with a shrug. With the ottsel happily chatting, the two younger blonds headed off towards the neon world of Kras City.
Left were the happy winner and his prize. They exchanged looks.
Daxter grinned, even as he got his hair ruffled.
"Admit it, you finally got what you wanted," he chirped as they hopped off the podium. "And it only took three fanfics!"
Jak gave him a half smirk.
"Well, the next game is about you," he mildly said.
There was a pause.
"… crap."
And so the happy couple strode off to find some semblance of a date, and to do their best not to think about what certain other characters may be doing.
Oh God no.
The end.
Author's Note: A follow-up on this, regarding Razer and Erol, is in the works. And I'm going to hell. Meep.