Thanks for your responses to Chapter 1!
I don't deserve readers as awesome as you!
I decided to post this a little early as I expect to be sleeping my New Year's Day away. :D
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! My resolutions are to organise my time and tasks better – including being a more dependable writer!
Thanks, as always, to Kitsuna!
"He can't see the good stuff left, only the good stuff he lost." ~ Daxter
Chapter 2
The Hole was as unlike The Naughty Ottsel as Spargus was unlike Haven.
Thick, scaled hides were stretched over the space between two buildings, providing shade from the sun and a theoretical shelter from rain, if it ever rained here.
The buildings it was squished between were long and wide, with one side facing the ocean and housing the active-service warriors and the opposite side a completely separate housing for non-warrior inhabitants.
The result of the bar's setup meant that in addition to shade, the sea breezes swept right through the establishment, bringing relief from the heat to a startling degree.
The space itself was only as wide as two bikes lying bumper to bumper, but it was quite a bit longer. One side of the rectangular space was taken up by battered wooden furniture, carved stone tables and sleeping Wastelanders. The other side was taken up by a long, narrow bar that ran half the length of the room and opened at both ends into the building behind it – presumably into storage.
One old, grizzled Wastelander was seated at the bar a few stools down, half-leaning on an equally grizzled but considerably younger female Wastelander. The two were speaking quietly but Jak – seated at the far edge of the bar, with the burning sunlight from outside just reaching in to warm his legs – tried not to hear them.
He mostly attempted this by focusing on his best friend, who was sampling the drinks on offer with the air of an unimpressed connoisseur. The bartender was nowhere to be seen and Daxter was helping himself to sips right from the bottles lined up against the wall.
"This is unbelievable." Daxter grumbled. "You'd think a bunch of hardened desert-warriors would have something stronger than fruit juice."
Jak smiled. "Yeah. I doubt it's fruit juice." He said dryly. "I don't about you, but I haven't seen anything other than cacti and leapers." Daxter didn't reply, already trying something new, until-
"What was that?!" Daxter literally spat, a fine spray of yellow liquid misting into the air. "EWWWW! I think I swallowed some of that! Gross! Stomach pump! Quick!! I can feel it eating my insides!"
Jak frowned in concern as Daxter staggered his way towards him only to collapse dramatically at his hands. After several seconds of drawn-out death-rattles, the ottsel stilled.
Jak poked him.
Daxter broke into instant, high-pitched giggles, curling away from Jak's hand and swatting at him with all four paws. Jak grinned a little, easily pinning the little body down with one hand and using his free thumb to tickle the ottsel.
"Jaaaaak!" Daxter screeched, pitch even higher than normal. "You jer-aha ha-jerk! S-s-stoooahahahaha!"
"Pipe down!" Snarled the grizzled woman, now almost fully supporting the old man who was dozing off.
Jak felt his mirth drop away, as he turned and looked at the woman. He could almost feel his eyes darken, could definitely feel the darkness within him swirling eagerly for a chance to get out at play.
It was easier, though, to ignore it and he took his hand off the helplessly giggling, twitching ottsel in the only gesture of compliance he was inclined to make.
The woman scowled at him, though the slight widening of her pupils and quickening of her pulse gave away her momentary fear easily enough. She did, however, accept the lack of ottsel-molestation as an apology and endeavored to ignore the otherwise threatening manner of the young stranger.
Jak turned back to the bar, good mood all but gone.
Daxter, making a production of smoothing down his fur, darted quick, worried looks at him before turning himself to glare at the woman.
She didn't notice, busy trying to move the old man out into the street.
"So, uh... The big guy and I had a chat on the way here." Daxter ventured after a moment. "Not a bad guy, really."
Jak grunted. It wasn't the good kind of grunt. Daxter winced.
"I take it you're a bit P.O'ed 'bout the whole 'background check' thing, huh?" He asked, smiling weakly.
Jak shot him a dark look and turned to look out towards the ocean. It was oddly beautiful, compared to the functional-but-ugly look of the desert city.
Daxter bit his lip, before moving slowly closer and laying his paws against Jak's forearm. Jak's ear twitched slightly, an unconscious but constant monitor of his surroundings.
"He wasn't tryin' to butt in." Daxter offered, atypically quietly. "Believe me, I'd have run him over with a hijacked transport ship if I thought he was just being nosy."
"I don't care what reason he had." Jak bit out suddenly. "He should have known better."
Daxter paused, watching the expression on Jak's profile carefully.
"You.. you're pissed because he found out, aren'tcha?" The ottsel realised. "He found out that you an' the kid are one-and-the-same and you're... holy yakkows, you're scared!"
Daxter caught a flash of angry blue eyes before the arm he was now leaning his whole body weight against abruptly shook him off. Daxter toppled backwards with a yelp, falling right off the bar and hitting the ground with a thump.
There was a scraping noise as Jak pushed himself up and off the barstool and stalked off into the sunlight, his shoulders hunched in a manner reminiscent of Dark Jak.
Daxter spat some dirt out of his mouth and scowled.
"Oh no ya don't!" He shouted, running after his best friend on all fours and leaping straight up to stand against Jak's back – front paws clenched around an ear each and yanking as his back paws dug claws into the holster beneath them.
Jak pitched back with a short sound of surprise. Although he regained his balance quickly enough, he couldn't shake Daxter without risking little ottsel claws tearing apart the more delicate outer edges of his ears.
Daxter growled and yanked again on the ears like reigns to a horse.
"Alright, buddy, that's it! I'm tired of you running off without me! Now we are gonna find somewhere you can freak out without scarin' the locals or so help me I will bite these ears right off!!" The little creature punctuated his words with sharp tugs, making even his battle-hardened friend wince more than once.
Passing Wastelanders were staring at them curiously and with more than a little amusement, but none of them paused in their lives to see what would happen next.
"Alright!" Jak finally snapped, swiping over his shoulder for the ottsel – who dodged. "Get off my back!"
Daxter did so, scampering quickly to his regular shoulder position and snickered. "Literally" He snarked, grinning back at Jak's irritated expression.
Jak rolled his eyes, but already his temper was fading.
"C'mon, tough guy." Daxter urged, leaning on his friend's head. "Let's get outta this dustbowl city. I saw a beach on the way in, there might be some chicks there!"
Jak didn't reply, already heading for the blast doors leading outside.
----------------
"My liege?"
Damas didn't stir from his position at the window. The King stared out over his city as the sun burnt orange and red into the late afternoon.
Behind him, Seem frowned. She had been in the room when Sig and the King had spoken, waiting in the shadows to give her own report. What she had heard was shocking.
The King's sweet, talented child.. had become that poor twisted young man. Although it was clear that the Precursors had smiled on him by allowing the white eco to heal and not destroy him.. it was equally clear that the boy was no King Damas and never would be.
Wrathful and tormented, stained by the Dark and loyal to none but himself... If Damas ever acknowledged the boy as his child and future ruler of Spargus... surely Jak would spell their doom. Assuming, of course, they all survived the coming Daystar.
It was perhaps fortuitous, then, that Damas seemed less than eager to embrace his lost son.
"What is it, Seem?" Damas replied belatedly.
"I have the samples of white eco with me." Seem reported calmly. "They are pure and strong. The vent is marked as a core vent, so supply does not appear to be an immediate problem."
"Your warriors?"
"Training has intensified, eco is portioned generously. Some ancient eco-powered weapons have been removed from storage and all monks are training in their use."
This was sufficient to gain Damas' direct attention. He turned and observed the Monk closely.
"Kor has been destroyed." He stated. "The Metal Head army is scattered and mindless. For the first time in twenty years they are pests awaiting extermination, not a force to fear. Yet you prepare for war. What do you know that I do not?"
Seem bowed her head.
"The Daystar. It was first sighted over a week ago and has only grown brighter. There are scriptures and carvings in every Precursor temple that warn of it. 'The Daystar heralds the Dark Makers.' We believe that what is coming will make Kor and his brood look like an advance guard. Perhaps they were."
Damas sighed, deep and despairing "Is there no end to this war?" He asked softly, eyes closing.
Seem remained silent. She had no reassurances to offer.
After a moment, the King opened his eyes and straightened.
"Alright. Dispatch a contingent of engineers and monks to the gun turrets. See if we can substitute or mix in white eco to the charge – it should do a hell of a lot more damage than the red we've been using. I want supply lines set up to distribute the white eco into the city and emergency storage as quickly as possible. Select two of your warriors and send them to me to see if any of mine can learn to use it as well."
Seem nodded. "As you command." She acknowledged "You should also be aware: With the opening of the vent in the tunnels, a new section of the temple has also opened. It seems to be a direct result, which means Mar intended it to do so."
She watched expressionlessly as the King started at the name of his son, even as he knew she was referring to the ancestor. He wasn't going to like what she said next.
"I believe Jak should accompany one of my monks there." She stated evenly.
Damas' eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?" The King demanded. "He was barely involved in the opening of the white vent. By accident, barely aware for grief's sake!"
Seem bowed her head.
"He is tainted with Dark and Blessed with white." She said quietly. "Such an occurrence is beyond a fluke. I believe Mar predicted it, somehow. I believe he is important. And also.." She darted a hesitant look at her King. "He has the blood needed for any seals within the temple. We cannot spare you, my liege, not your time nor your life. Jak is.. not so valuable."
For a moment Damas was absolutely still and Seem braced herself for either an enraged diatribe or a staff blast to the chest.
She got neither. Damas just stared at her, eyes dark and jaw tight. She didn't know if he was angry that she knew, angry at the reminder or angry because despite it all he recognised Jak as his son.
He didn't like it, but he recognised it.
She didn't get an answer, one way or the other. Damas just nodded, jaw tight.
"I want him to do a few runs with Sig first." The King said curtly. "Learn the ropes. Afterwards, I'll assign him to you." He turned sharply and stalked back to the window, the afternoon rage of colour starting to give way to the deep purples of evening.
Seem, knowing a dismissal when she saw one, bowed silently and left.
------------
"Well. It ain't Sandover."
Jak couldn't help but agree. The ocean was wonderfully familiar, but the golden-white sand of his youth was gone, replaced with a mass of jagged unfriendly boulders. He had found a curved one shielded from sea spray and was sitting on the warm rock, best friend at his side, as the sun set over the ocean.
He'd been tempted to dive in, let the salty, sun-warmed water cleanse him for the first time in over three years.
Then he'd seen a low-flying bird get picked out of the air by a large tentacle belonging to some kind of sea creature - and his desire had abruptly abated.
He'd also found a seat a couple of meters back from sea line.
And kept his gun close to hand.
Still, despite the increased danger, it was.... nice. Daxter was a warm weight against his side, the dying sun was giving way to a cool night breeze.. and the air was so fresh.
"So, talk to me buddy." Daxter's voice was quiet.
Jak didn't look down at him and he knew Dax wasn't looking up at him.
Jak lay his head back against the rock, drinking in the sound of the ocean and not a single other person or vehicle. Slowly, the sensation almost foreign, he relaxed.
"...Do you think he told him?" He asked at length. He didn't need to clarify. Dax knew exactly who he meant.
"..Yeah." Daxter answered softly.
They were quiet for a few minutes.
"What.." Jak started, then stopped.
"I think he's gonna be freaked." Daxter answered the stalled question.
"And, no offence buddy, but he kinda has a right to, ya know? His little mute kid gets kidnapped, an' there ain't nuthin' he can do about it. He's scared. And then Sig comes along and spins some tale about time travel and Damas has to swallow the idea that not only has his kid gone and grown up without him, but that his kid was hurt and there's nuthin' he can do about that either."
"Hurt." Jak repeated, scorn evident in his voice. "Fucked up, you mean. Ruined. I'm not his.. I'm not Mar. Not anymore."
Dax was silent for a moment.
"..Maybe." The ottsel conceded "But I don't think that bastard Praxis can take the credit for all of it. The guy you are today – Jak – he was made in Sandover."
Jak scoffed, almost soundlessly.
The little body at his side twisted and propped itself up on his stomach.
"I'm serious." Daxter insisted. "Jak grew up in the sun and sea. He grew up playing with eco vents and camping out in the forest. He had a goofy, absent, kind uncle; a crotchety old Sage who used to spoil him – unfairly, I might add – and a best friend who stuck to him like freakin' glue!"
Startled, Jak looked down, meeting small, furiously intent eyes.
"He had a cute girl he was too chicken to ask out, unfairly developed biceps and even though he never said a word he was.. he was the best friend I ever had. When I got hurt, he went to the end of the world and risked his life to help me."
Jak swallowed.
"And Praxis?" He asked, voice hoarse.
Daxter just shrugged.
"Praxis hurt him. He gave Jak some really, really sharp edges. He even changed him a little. But he didn't make him. And he definitely didn't change Mar to Jak. Sandover did that."
Jak stared down at his best friend, his chest tight with a humble, desperately thankful emotion he didn't know how to express. Dax's expression softened and one paw came up to scratch his ear sheepishly.
"Thanks, Dax." Jak managed. "But.. I don't think Damas will see it that way."
Daxter's ears bent back. "Maybe not at first." He conceded reluctantly "But if he's half the guy Sig seems to think he is, then I'd bet the Naughty Ottsel that he'll catch on eventually. It might take him awhile, Jak... but it'll work out. I'm positive."
Jak huffed a small laugh, one hand coming up to flatten the ottsel's ears to his skull and rub.
"Thanks, Dax." He said again, speaking over Daxter's muffled protests. Daxter eventually shoved his hand off and smoothed his fur back.
"Yeah, well.." Daxter started, turning back around and slumping against his side – but not before Jak caught the pleased look on his face. "I do what I do. I'm thinkin' of startin' a talk show."
Jak smiled and looked out over the sea. The sun was setting now, a cloud of orange and red touched by streaks of purple and blue as the cloudless night settled in.
"Hey, Jak?"
"Yeah, Dax?"
"You know that thing I said about Keira? You know I was just saying' that, right? 'Cause she was totally hot for me."
A smile.
"Yeah, Dax."
End Chapter
So apparently there's a big debate raging about white and light Eco.
Allow me to state for the record:
In this version of the JnD universe, white and light are the same thing. The colour differences between them and how Jak interacted with them are – in my opinion – a result of both how it was created and administered to him (Sage team effort plus a dunking versus Precursor precision applications over time) and how he himself was configured to work with Eco at the time.
In his youth, I believe Jak's use of eco was more 'natural'. He shot the white eco from his hands the same way he shot yellow. But after getting his body messed around with by Praxis, his eco affinity changed as well.
So I believe, anyway. :)
Daxter's quote was a warning of things to come. Now, if you'll excuse me it's New Year's Eve and I'm off to gorge on yummy food and NON STOP GAMING WOOOO!
Have a great one!
