Greetings and hello (although they mean the exact same thing and putting them together in the same sentence is pointless)!
This looks into the hidden past of the Baron Praxis, and a glimpse into his childhood.
There are many differences from the city of the past, and the city of the future (although it would be somewhat long to type them all down right now. :P), and heck, it looks like the "Baron" is about to go on only one of many adventures of a lifetime. (Well, this particular adventure isn't that great, but it's still an "adventure" I guess. :P)
This may be, in a way, really lame, but, like, oh well I guess, just putting it up here while doing other things, and it feels kinda weird to be in the process of doing something while it looks like nothing is going on (referring to the first story I've made and haven't finished yet) so that's probably why I put this in. O_o
Disclaimah: In no way, right, or, agh...legal way, do I OWN Jak and Daxter and the series and so on. Seriously, I don't. All rights are reserved to their respected owners. And it's...sadly staying that way. :P Nah just kidding. ;)
Snowfall
Snow covered the City of Haven to the brim. 7 inches thick was what Morgan the Informer said. Little or few citizens walked through the winding streets of the City of Haven, as usual in snowdays. The snow reached nearly every end of the city, slightly diminishing when reaching the Found Town (called the name from the fact that it was "found", rather than made). In the Slums, Some kids actually played outside, their hands enveloped in the snow as they dug into it to make "gigantrous" snowballs. Adults shooed them to go back into their houses, although one man said to another adult, "Give them time, Jag. Some kids need fun in their childhood. 'Cause who knows when the time will come where fun can no longer exist in a world like this." This kept other adults quiet, now silently passing by as the kids tried hitting each other's eyes with their snowballs. It was one of the only few times a smile was able to rip through their cheeks.
In one particular house in the Slums, a mother was preparing a meal for his son, if it could be counted as a meal at all. The mother finally set the wooden spoon down – after continuously mixing and wafting for the smell – and began to take the plate to her son, until she tilted it a little too much, and the yolk and egg fell onto the ground. There was a brief silence, as both stared at the ruined meal and then back at each other; and then they burst into laughter. The mother squatted down to clean up the mess with a (used) napkin into the plate and tossed the egg out the window. "That's probably why you should carry it with both hands now, Mom," the son said. The mother smiled.
"Don't worry Boran," she said as she gently put her hand on his shoulder, "I can manage. Ladies are supposed to have 'spectacular' balance."
"But you're not a lady. You're my mom."
In a way, Boran's mom was slightly taken aback by this, not sure if it was a compliment or an insult. But she slid into the chair next to Boran, gently put her forehead against his, and whispered, "Thank you." And went off out the door.
"Where you going Mom?" Boran asked, softly surprised to see her abruptly leaving.
His mom didn't reply as she took her brown leather jacket off the coat-hanger (leaning sideways in an unusual fashion) and put it on.
"Mom!"
Boran's mom suddenly jerked her head into the direction of her son, and for one moment of a second, he saw her eyes unnaturally glimmering; glimmering like a blood-red crystal. And then it disappeared.
She smiled and said, "I'm going off on some errands. Stay safe and don't leave the house!" She then grabbed the hat that hung from another arm of the coat hanger and put it atop her head, setting the visor down low. Then she walked out the door, Boran still turned in his chair. Boran slowly turned back 180 degrees, and slumped in his chair. In the distance, he could hear the sound of a few mothers' calls for their children to come home. Boran sat up a little more, and tilted his head up to see the commotion through his window. The mothers were turning out to seem somewhat panicked now. Boran could still see fresh footprints embedded onto the snow; little kids' footprints? Were they playing in the snow?
Boran felt a contradiction of thoughts, knowing that if he went out there and his mom found out, he'd get in trouble. Then that's why I'll make sure she doesn't find out, he thought happily. The 14-year-old then stood from his chair and ran out the door. With a strong build and a toughness about him that just seemed to radiate from his figure, the cold snow didn't affect him much. A crowd was beginning to grow now, trying to converse with the mothers; trying to help. Boran suddenly felt a surge of sadness enter him. Why are they helping them? What makes people help out other people? Do you have to yell, yell for the damn world to hear and then some person will finally get your attention? Or just sit there in pain while everyone passes by? Boran still walked towards the crowd, suddenly remembering something his mother had told him. "It's a dog-eat-dog world out there. Our main goal is to try to stay away from those dogs." Boran stopped and hesitated. Maybe it was best if he should leave now...
Wait.
Through the boy's peripheral vision he noticed someone running down a corner. It looked like he was going to the Industrial Section (in which a few less than half of its contents were still under construction). And it seemed like he was nervous.
In a swift movement, Boran bolted down the corner, turning his body right through the winding street of the Slums. I see him! He's running up into those...whatever they're called...highway street sidewalk..? Or whatever..? Boran kept his fast pace, pushing aside other passersby as his worn down shoes dug into the snow, reaching the top of the highway-street-sidewalk thing and run past an B.C. Guard. As he ran past him, he winced. Aww shit, I'm going to be in big trouble now. He looked back and noticed the guard talking into his talkbox. These guys would call reinforcements for some kid? Yeah right. Boran noticed that the running man in front of him disappeared. Boran abruptly stopped, looking right and left. What the heck? The boy then instinctively looked down to his right, a zoomer blocking his view. Then he saw the man running, below the highway-street-sidewalk thing that Boran stood on. The boy was smart enough to know he would crack most of his bones if he jumped, so continued his chase up on the highway-sidewalk-street thing, keeping his eyes on the man. "Freeze, juvenile!" Boran knew what voice that came from, but knew if he turned he might lose his place, sight-wise. In front of him the boy saw that the highway-street-sidewalk thing was about to curve into another direction. Boran then made a few calculations in his head. He didn't have enough time to even think, except pray that the Precursors will spare him his life.
And then he jumped.
He had no idea what he was doing, but he jumped. Feeling like as though the world has entered slow motion, he quickly turned to see the B.C. Guards jumping after him. Suddenly he felt a sudden impact on his body and fell onto his face. "What the -" Boran turned to see who made the voice, and noticed that he was atop a two-seat striped zoomer. The driver seemed to be in gentle shock, although he seemed to have good self-control. Boran then heard a couple of thuds below him, and looked down to see the guards piled on top of each other, moaning in pain. "'Ey, kid, what the hell are you doing?" Boran snapped back into his situation, looking back at the man driving.
"Listen, mister..."
"Call me Jarem."
Boran spoke quickly. "Jarem. Yes. Well, there's a guy down there that was running, and...and...I was trying to chase him, because it looked like he kidnapped the kids that seemed like...they were playing in the snow, and were lost. So - "
"You ran for the man, and nowyou just lost him."
Boran winced and looked back down, the snow softly falling onto the ground. For some reason he began to feel sad. He felt like as though he lost something precious himself. As though, if it wasn't for his stupidity they could've lived. As though the kids could tell he was running for them, but failed.
Boran closed his eyes. I'm such a damn failure.
"Hey."
Boran slowly opened his eyes, finding his vision blurry.
Jarem chuckled as he took out a cigarette, lying back in his seat. "I've seen kids before, kid. But never one as disgustful as you." He lit his cigarette, set it between two of his set of teeth, and winked. "Get in. Time's wastin'." Before Boran could register what Jarem had just said, the zoomer jerked forward, and Boran nearly flew off the zoomer, grabbing onto the back with his right hand just before colliding with the ground.
Jarem didn't seem to care, rapidly swerving right, left, right, right, and left again. The zoomer's side occasionally slammed into one of the metal walls, Boran desperately trying to hold on. Jarem's voice suddenly yelled out through the force of wind, "'Ey! Kid! You doing alright?"
Boran was considering the fact that he didn't say that against the fact that he did. "ARE YOU FREAKIN' INSANE!" He shouted.
"A'ight, good! Looks like he's entering the Bazaar section! We're going to have to chase him by foot!"
Jarem suddenly jumped off the zoomer, and landed swiftly on his feet, running through the Bazaar section of the City of Haven. Boran, on the other hand, tried to land on his feet as well, but instead, flipped over and landed on his back, sliding through the snow. He quickly scrambled onto his feet, and ran into the Bazaar zone after Jarem, who was a couple yards away. Boran eventually caught up with him. "Jarem, where are we going? We completely lost him!" he said. A shot was suddenly heard from behind the runners. Jarem plucked out his cigarette and slowed down to a walk. Boran abruptly stopped, his feet sliding across the snow. "What'd you stop for?" Boran asked. Jarem turned his head towards Boran's direction.
"I'll hold up the guards," he said. "Don't be a fool." He returned his head to its normal position, and Boran saw the guards turn the corner towards Jarem. "Keep on runnin'. Turn left at the nearest turn, and look to your right. Your guy will be there."
Boran began running in the middle of Jarem's informative speech, actually crashing into a woman when not looking where he was going. He took one second to say "sorry" and stood back up to continue running. He turned left and the kidnapper was right in front of him. The kidnapper noticed him, and his eyes widened in fear. He held a large bag over his shoulder. Boran glared at the man, and, yelling, leaped into the air with his right fist raised high, and smashed it across the man's face.
The man felt a shock of pain ring through his head, and was about to fall when Boran slammed his knee into the kidnapper's stomach. The kidnapper cried out in pain, then fell to his knees and tried to grab hold of Boran's arm, only resulting to another fist onto the face. He then coughed out saliva, and fell onto the snow, his left arm clutching his stomach. Boran then regained control of himself, realizing the pointless anger he's just unleashed upon this man. The man was shivering; Boran was unsure whether or not it came from his attack or the cold of the snow. He kept staring for a bit, surprised to be a force strong enough to actually have a man trembling under him. The snow slowly fell, and a crowd began to grow around him. It grew bigger and bigger. Boran didn't notice, until suddenly, someone started clapping. And then more claps, and more claps came from the crowd. Boran looked around him. Surrounding him were the faces of people; all types of people, people he's never met before. They were clapping...because of him.
"'Ey kid."
Boran looked back in front of him. Jarem stood beside the kidnapper's side, his arms folded. "Somethin' in that bag's movin'." Boran stared back at the kidnapper, and leaned down, taking the bag from the kidnapper's right hand. He was incredibly surprised to find the bag nearly too heavy for him to carry, and instead opened it up while on the ground. Everyone was silent, looking at the expressions of Boran to see a hint to what was in the bag. When Boran looked inside, his eyes widened, his body nearly taken aback. Slowly but carefully, he took out a small kid out of the bag's hold. He seemed to be around 5 or 6 years of age.
The crowd was now dead silent, only a small murmur of gasps escaping from them. Boran stared at the child, the snow seeming to have stopped falling. The kid's eyes were closed. Was I too late? Boran wondered.
Jarem then gestured to Boran to give the kid to him, his limp body heavy in the somewhat muscular man's arms. Jarem carefully pulled up the little boy's shirt. The crowd gasped at what they saw, Boran's expression, however, unchanged.
"His stomach..." Boran said, trailing off...
Jarem nodded.
"It's torn."
'Ello again everyone. :P
So, like, this was normally a thought-out chapter-book long "fanfiction" that I had planned, like, a year ago. :P It wasn't completely finished, and I had to rewrite some things as well which I thought seemed kinda stupid. :P
This part, however, was an original excerpt taken from the original In the Heart of Baron Praxis that I've never gotten into finishing. I put this in just for a little fun while making the next chapter of The Third Hero (which is now taking a little longer than usual since, well, I made...a mistake) and for enjoyment, I guess. I have no idea if I want to continue the story, and, like I had originally once planned, turn it into an actual chapter story, or just keep it in the site the ordinary oneshot that it is. :P
Not to mention, Boran is Baron Praxis, and if you still don't happen to know who the kid is, just ask and I'll tell ya, although it should be somewhat certain in itself. ;)
Anyhoo, thanks for readin', and don't remember – er, I mean, forget – to leave a review while leaving! :) In the meantime, I just got an important email from this dude...