oy, another almost two month update. i've actually had a pretty decent chunk of time to work on this, but not the inspiration. i've really been trying to crack down on it in the past couple days though, so here's chapter 8!
i get the feeling that daxter tends to sound more like a spidey sense than an actual character. he's always yelling out warnings and such. this chapter mainly consists of set up, and after this i think i'm finally gonna start jumping ahead a bit. now keira is getting neglected with absurdly small sections, and much ass-kicking occurs. jak has also developed a deep love of curse words and uses them regularly.
update: i was really pissed off when i realized i forgot to include a bit with the loudspeaker, so here's the fixed version.
Those Magic Changes
Getting the Hang of It
Jak glared at the towering fortress with such palpable hatred that pedestrians rubbernecked to get a better look at the angry youth. He remained rooted to the spot for awhile, both desiring and dreading a trip back into Haven's most feared structure. Less than twenty-four hours ago he was strapped to a table deep inside, feeling each and every cell in his body explode with dark eco. Only after Daxter pointed out the number of people staring at them did the young elf steel himself and walk forward.
After ascending a ramp, Jak quickly flashed the KG security pass Torn gave him. The door slid open, and he stepped inside.
The door clanged shut behind him and the locks clicked as they rotated back into place. He was inside the fortress. Jak found himself unable to move. He felt icy cold but sweaty, heavy-limbed but light-headed. He felt like a cornered animal. Much as he hated to admit it, he was afraid.
An orange paw fluttered in front of his face. "Jak? What is it?" Daxter's furry head popped into view, "You're pale as Samos' toenail clippings."
Jak shook his head and said more defensively than he meant to, "Nothing! I'm just…" hesitating, Jak took a step forward, unsure if he was even capable of such a simple action, "…fine. I'm fine."
At first, Jak's complete attention was held by an enormous machine directly in front of him. A single spiked wheel, taller than Jak and strangely reminiscent of the Bird Lady's old rolling pin, dominated the machine's appearance. A rotating gun just barely peeked over the top. Jak eyed the machine warily, but when it remained motionless he turned his attention elsewhere. They were in a multi-leveled room lined in computer consoles and control panels. Flashing buttons and indicators cast a strange glow on the high walls. Absolutely everything consisted of cold dark metal, accentuating the Fortress' unnatural and corrupt energy. Up one level and towards the back of the room stood a doorway, blocked by throbbing pulses of blue electricity. This left Jak with the only option of taking a door in the left wall. Feeling triumphant at having overcome his anxiety, Jak strode boldly forward, not noticing the small red laser that flashed near the floor.
"Uh, Jak?" Said elf raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Daxter but kept walking. The ottsel's voice grew panicked. "Jak! Watch out for the—"
Jak stepped through and Daxter was cut off by the sound of a huge motor roaring to life. The pair whipped their eyes around to look over their shoulders and simultaneously dropped jaws as the computer said, "Unauthorized use of Fortress door. Activating security tank." The deadly machine proceeded rolling towards them, its gun taking aim.
Jak wasted no time in bolting down the hallway, and Daxter wasted no time in yelling his complaints. "Are you deaf? Why the hell didn't you stop??"
Jak yelled back as he dodged a flaming bullet, "I woulda stopped if you just said 'stop'! How the fuck am I supposed to identify a sensor before I se—" He was cut off when a bullet caught him in the right shoulder, punching a clean hole back to front just beneath the clavicle bone. He grunted and stumbled, almost getting shot again in the process.
Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Jak entered a room in which only a narrow pathway of floor circled up and around a huge, black pit. Ducking to the left, he was briefly sheltered by a wall before the security tank came roaring around the corner. Continuing up the pathway, Jak watched as the machine took the right path instead which ran into a grated wall. Jak himself had only to drop back down to the security tank's level on the other side of the wall and then he could continue through the Fortress tank free. He was quickly proved wrong when the behemoth machine crashed through the grate like it was tissue paper.
Jak ran down the twisting path, dodging tank fire, when a red laser crossed his leg.
Daxter yelled, "Watch out for the guns!" and Jak sprung into the air just in time to avoid more bullets. Several turrets were stationed around the room, all with motion sensing lasers attached. Only by performing a series of acrobatics was Jak able to avoid further injury.
In the next room, he ran towards several stacked crates in a corner of the area. After scaling the crates and swinging to the upper level via pole, he entered a power room in which two generators spun in lazy circles. Strange arms stuck out from the generators' tops, supporting small platforms, and a glass-domed power source popped out of the center shaft, a string of sparks running between tow metal rods within. The overall look was that of a metallic rotating flower. On the opposite wall he could see another gate barred by electricity. The tank was once again detained by an obstacle below, and he used the opportunity to take a breather, gripping his shoulder.
Daxter gasped loudly right in Jak's ear, a fact he didn't much appreciate. He wondered what could possibly be wrong now when the ottsel yelped, "Jak! Lookit your hand!"
Removing said body part from his wound, Jak harshly sucked in his breath and felt his stomach drop. His hand was coated not in red blood but a black liquid that flashed violet in the light. He said in a horrified whisper, "Dark eco…"
The screeching sound of metal on metal split the air as the security tank smashed its way into the room. "Shit!" Jak cursed and, quickly deciding on a plan of action, made a running leap for the nearest generator and smashed its power source with a mighty kick. A bullet whizzed by his head, and he put on an extra burst of speed. He quickly jumped to the next generator and disabled it, causing the electric shield to sputter and die. After dodging a final spray of bullets, he leapt into the doorway and ran down a short hallway, finally rid of the tank.
He entered a room with three separate sections, all divided by grating. Jak saw he'd have to cross moving platforms and weave his way through the grating to get to the exit… and take out seven guards along the way. Two stood across the platforms directly in front of him, and Jak noticed a Krimzon Guard crate lying on the ground nearby. A strong desire to open it seized his body, causing his hands to move of their own volition.
One guard shifted his weight in a manner that suggested he was tired of standing and asked his comrade, "Have they found Mar's Tomb yet?"
Lifting the lid, a purple glow emanated from within. His heart pounding, Jak reached inside and Daxter yelled, "Wait, Jak! Don't touch it!"
The other guard responded grudgingly, "They wouldn't tell us if they did."
The dark eco brushed Jak's skin, seeping in upon contact with a sizzle. His muscles contracted as a wave of ecstatic fury swept through him…
Jak raced across the platforms and grabbed the nearest guard by the helmet, twisting till his neck snapped. They won't tell you if you're dead either, Jak thought with a sadistic smile as he turned to the other guard and threw him past the platforms into the inky blackness below…and the darkness within the channeler stirred.
Jak stumbled as the red mist seeped over his vision. He could dimly hear Daxter's frantic inquiries and struggled to part the mist and keep the demon locked inside. But his mind was sinking, disappearing into the darkness…he felt so tired.
Jak looked in a dazed and disconnected manner at his hands as his skin paled and his fingernails grew into long, sharp claws. He vaguely knew that he should fight harder, that he should keep control. He could barely hear Daxter's voice. With an intense effort he forced his mouth to work and growled rather than said, "I can't stop it!"
The darkness took him.
Letting loose a primal scream, Jak crossed the next set of platforms and swiped at two krimzon guards as soon as they were within range, slicing through metal and flesh alike. Twin red fountains sprayed from their bodies as their innards spilled out. Jak licked drops of blood off his lips and rounded the next corner, encountering three more guards. All three lay mutilated on the floor in seconds. The transformed elf didn't slow down as he approached another two guards. When he was no more than ten feet away, huge spikes popped up from below, blocking his path with the promise of swift and sharp pain. Instantly reacting, he leapt into the air with superhuman strength and, clearing the spikes, landed on an unfortunate guard.
It wasn't until he was standing in an industrial room that the mist cleared and Jak was himself. Gasping, he clutched his head and nearly doubled over as he returned to his body and purple rays of dark eco pulsed over his skin.
Daxter leapt from one end of the elf's shoulder to the other in an effort to dodge the dangerous substance. "Yeesh! What the hell brought that on?"
Jak shook his head, still panting. "…After I touched the dark eco I started feeling…violent."
"So dark eco makes you transform?" The ottsel shrugged. "Well then steer clear of the black goo, big guy," Daxter said as he stepped to the side of a lingering dark eco ray, "or else I won't be able to take you anywhere."
Once Jak was recovered, the two rode up a series of conveyer belts and finally reached their destination.
The ammo dump inhabited an enormous room with a vaulted ceiling. Bright red light fixtures on the walls illuminated barrels upon barrels stacked around the room. In its center, a number of smaller ammunition stores surrounded a huge silo plastered in the Baron's emblem.
Jak was wondering how on earth he would go about blowing up the stores much less the silo when he saw something glint out of the corner of his eye. After heading over to the offending barrel, he picked up a shiny red card. "That's a security pass!" Daxter said in an excited voice, "We need those to get through city checkpoints. That crappy one Tattooed Wonder gave us only has access to the Fortress."
A clanking sound below caught the pair's attention. Seeing a barred grate in the floor, Jak lay down and looked through.
Two krimzon guards stood next to stacked barrels of eco. They intently stared at a huge ventilation pipe. The bars covering the pipe had been broken by a pair of metal head brutes.
One of the two guards below grunted out, "These barrels are the latest shipment of eco. The Baron says take them and get out!"
The brutes growled, their skull gems glowing a menacing yellow, at which the guards lifted their rifles, aiming for their glowing skull gems. Still growling, the metal heads crawled towards the barrels.
Jak stared at the scene with a mixture of confusion and disgust. "Metal heads in the city? Why are the guards giving them eco?" The implications of such facts were dangerous indeed.
Jak's musings came to a standstill when a mechanical roar sounded to his right. Rolling to the side and jumping up, he watched as another security tank proceeded rolling in his direction. Cursing, Jak ducked low to avoid a bullet and looked for cover. The only place to hide was behind the ammo, which wouldn't do him any good as it would explode from a minor nick. Jak's thoughts did a double take as a plan dawned on him. Bolting towards an ammunition store, he stood still right in front of it long enough for the security tank to lock on. He jumped aside just as the machine fired, causing the store to blow up in a shower of metal and flames. The female computer calmly issued warnings as a siren whined.
With the procedure down, Jak made quick work of the remaining stores, at which the computer announced a ten-second countdown to the ammo dump's self-destruction.
Daxter wailed, "There's no way out! And I never even gave that hot Underground babe a squeeze!"
Jak's eyes darted around the room as he continued dodging tank fire when they fell upon an open door in the far wall. Steeling himself for a final sprint, Jak rushed towards the door and leapt out into the night air just as the ammo dump exploded. The blast propelled him forward, causing him to trip rather than land on the nearest roof and fall three stories to the cracked pavement below.
Lifting himself up on his elbows, Jak shook his head and wondered if every mission would put him through this much abuse. He froze when he felt a wiggling beneath his back, shortly followed by Daxter poking his head out, gasping for breath.
The ottsel rolled his eyes. "This place has too much excitement. We need to move back to the country!"
One safe house sacked, two Underground members and three civilians found dead, and a stolen shipment of assorted weaponry. With a deep sigh, Torn leaned his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands. Hoping to alleviate a splitting headache, he gently massaged his temples. This was the third attack on a safe house in two weeks. If things continued this way, they would soon be fighting a losing battle, and the former KG commander was being spread far too thin in the process. He scowled down at the file containing the latest wave of bad news.
A dramatic voice split the air in so unpleasant a manner as to nearly cause him to flinch. "The Demolition Duo has returned! One barbecued ammo dump served up hot!"
Torn looked up from the file at the orange rat, who jumped off his shoulder perch onto the table. He was about to calmly respond with some blistering insult when Daxter's companion caught his attention.
Jak was covered in sprays of blood and slumped very slightly as he pressed a dirty hand to his right shoulder, around which a soiled cloth was wrapped. He moved not with his usual irritating swagger but stiffly. Only after study could one even detect the slightly labored edge to his breathing or the imperceptibly tense muscles in his young face. The upstart was making a truly valiant effort to hide his own pain. Torn had to refrain from curling his lip up in amusement.
"Looks like you had a grand old time."
Jak scowled at the older elf, "Oh yeah. Security tanks, swarms of guards, and falls from third story windows are really my idea of fun."
Torn chuckled and stood up. "Well I wouldn't want you to not feel fresh enough for another round tomorrow. I'll show you around HQ."
The ottsel looked around the room with a thoroughly unimpressed expression before bursting out, "Show us around HQ? What the hell is there to see?" he donned a vacant smile and a dull tone of voice, "Welcome to the Undergound Headquarters, part of the 'Ugliest Architecture in Haven City' tour package! To your left you'll see an actual furnace, embellished in ten years worth of rust. Now that's quality decorating, folks!" Daxter was promptly knocked off his feet by an airborne eco cartridge.
Torn headed over to the section of wall directly to the right of the furnace and flipped open a panel. "If either of you newbs actually thinks the Underground consists of one shabby room with a few lousy supplies," he quickly entered a code in the keypad, causing the wall to slide up, "then you're sadly underestimating our resources."
Jak and Daxter walked over and peered down the revealed hallway, which was considerably less grungy than the main room. Torn noted with satisfaction the pair's humbled expressions. He turned on his heel and headed inside.
After ten feet, the hallway expanded into a sizable training facility. Two large square mats sat in the center of the room, one currently occupied by two members practicing hand-to-hand combat, and several gun ranges occupied the back wall. The right wall was dotted by several doors and split by another hallway.
"Welcome to the bulk of the Underground Headquarters." He indicated the area they were standing in with a broad sweep of his arm. "The wall outside is our first buffer zone, the room behind us a second, on the off-chance that the KG come busting in." Turning around, he headed to a sliding door to the left of the entrance and, after entering another code, opened it and invited the two to look inside. Dozens of racks lined the walls, all filled to the brim with guns, grenades, and ammunition. "This is the armory, our main cache of stolen weapons and ammo."
Jak's eyes took on an excited glint when he laid eyes on the guns inside and he flashed a dangerous grin. Torn briefly noted he shouldn't be allowed to go into the armory without supervision or he'd wind up blowing a hole in the wall.
Pulling the younger elf out by his good shoulder, Torn closed the door and walked to the next. "This is our supply room. Everything from rations to medical equipment is stored here." He ignored the rodent's muttered comments about shit on a shingle and tossed Jak a first-aid kit.
He couldn't, however, ignore Daxter's next outburst, "OK, Tattooed Wonder, I don't wanna hear any more about cheap supplies or crappy food. I just want to crash! You've already sent us out on three missions our first day! Where the hell are we gonna sleep?"
"Outside if you don't quit barking," Torn responded in an edgy tone. He headed towards the right wall and opened one of its many doors. Inside was a tiny room in which stood a single bed and a couple storage units.
"All these doors down here are showers and private quarters for member use. Take this," he handed Jak a comm. unit, "if I need you for a mission I'll contact you. Otherwise, you can come and go as you please." He absently gestured up and down the hallway and was about to head back to the main room when he saw a peculiar expression on Jak's face. He was left with little time to ponder just what the youth was thinking when he spoke up.
"Look, can we have a room somewhere else?"
A muscle near the corner of Torn's mouth twitched and Daxter immediately protested. "Whaaat? Why? Look at this room! It's got a bed! A real bed!"
Torn scowled darkly, amazed at Jak's impudence. "And what's wrong with this one?"
Jak scowled right back, not in the slightest bit threatened by the tall Underground member. "It's my condition."
"What makes you think should I accommodate your request?"
"For the past two years I've been in—" Jak hesitated, not particularly interested in revealing his fugitive status and getting unwanted questions, before deciding on a vague answer, "I don't do well with small spaces."
Torn deeply wished to shoot his request down like a he would an errant metal head flyer but thought better of it. Kor had mentioned something about a berserker transformation or whatever it was. Maybe the boy's strange request had to do with that…or maybe he was just a freak with a personal space problem. Either way, Torn didn't like it one bit.
"Come on."
Upon reentering the main room Torn led the way to the back wall and climbed up the ladder. Once standing on the above floor, he briefly surveyed it out of habit while waiting for Jak to climb up. The only light in the area filtered through cracks in the mostly boarded up windows, dimly revealing grey, peeling walls and barren, grimy floors. The sound of dripping water perpetually echoed from an unknown source. Continuing around the corner, Torn ascended a creaking staircase, his boots stirring up small clouds of dust with every step. Up another ladder, they reached the top floor and entered a relatively large room.
Hefty chunks of the wood boarding up the windows had been ripped away, allowing one to easily see the alley below. In a corner opposite the windows a lumpy mattress lay on some crates, an eco lantern sitting on a barrel next to it. Several Krimzon Guard crates stood stacked in another corner. One was kicked open, revealing ammo cartridges. The room had a musty smell, and muffled scratching noises indicated a sizable rat population lived in the walls.
"This is our bird's nest." Torn jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the bulk of the room. "Whenever the KG get too close we send a sniper up here to play 'pop off the stoolies in red.'"
Daxter stared around the room incredulously. "Waddya mean 'bird's nest?' This is vermin central!"
Torn grinned, "Perfect. You'll fit right in."
He was about to turn and leave when Jak held up a hand as if suddenly remembering something and said, "We saw something odd while torching that ammo. The Baron's guards were giving barrels filled with eco to a group of metal heads."
"Really!" Torn stroked his chin thoughtfully, pale eyes twinkling, "The Shadow will be interested to hear that," he kneeled and prepared to climb back down the ladder and said before Daxter could protest, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do than babysit a kid and his rat."
Jak stared silently at his quarters, ignoring Daxter's ranting. Heading over to the bed, he sat down, his weight causing the mattress to sag several inches. He patted the mattress, testing its pliability, before standing and ripping off the bedding.
The sudden action caused Daxter to stop talking for a moment. "Jak, what are you doin'?"
The elf paid no attention as he kicked the remaining boards off a window and, leaning out, tossed the blankets up to the roof.
"Uh…Jak?"
After grabbing the eco lantern Jak stepped onto the window sill, gripping the edge, and turned to swiftly examine the outside wall before reaching over and sidestepping out of sight. A series of scraping sounds followed by thumping overhead signified that he had successfully climbed up to the roof despite his injured shoulder. After jumping up to the window and enduring a mad scramble up the wall, Daxter joined him.
He saw his friend laying out the blankets next to a black, rusty chimney undoubtedly belonging to the furnace below and threw up his little hands in exasperation. "What the hell are you doin' up here, Jak? You wanna die of hypothermia now?"
Jak didn't look over as he turned on the lantern. "It's not that cold."
Daxter pointed at the roof beneath his furry feet. "But there's a bed down there! It may be flea-ridden, but it's still a bed!"
Jak said for the second time that night, "I don't do well with small spaces." He opened up the first-aid kit and began unwrapping his shoulder.
"'Small spaces?' The bird's nest is five times the size of that first room! Even if it's half as comfortable why would ya give that up for th—"
Jak turned, scowling at Daxter so fiercely the ottsel flinched, and yelled, "I've been locked up in a cell the size of a lurker outhouse, without any windows, nearly twenty-four seven for two fucking years! I'll go insane if I'm expected to relax and go beddy-bye in an enclosed space regardless of how goddamn comfy it is! I've been sleeping on a concrete slab! I can't sleep on anything soft now! What the hell makes you think I can just magically readjust to a warm room and a cushy bed after living like that? Not to mention the fact that I'm some freak who can't control this…this thing inside me! Who knows who might be around the next time it comes out! And if you don't like it then you sleep in the bird's nest!"
Jak violently yanked the rest of the bandage off his shoulder, wincing when it tore at some dried blood. He glared at the wound with fresh anger when he saw his blood was still as black as in the fortress.
Jak rooted through the kit, a little disinclined to believe that it, being of this wretched world, would contain something useful. He was soon proved wrong when his hand closed on a clear squishy package that glowed green. Jak eagerly lifted the green eco out of the kit. Having grown up under the tutelage of the Sage of Green Eco, he was comforted by simply looking at the substance after such a long time without it.
He set about figuring how to open its container. After several failed attempts to muscle a hole in the package with his hands, Jak clamped his teeth on a corner and ripped it open. Holding the torn corner over his shoulder, he squeezed the package till a quivering green blob fell onto the wound. He yelped in surprise when the green eco not only failed to repair his wound but filled his shoulder with incredible pain. He clenched his hands into tight fists and nearly doubled over, his face contorted as he struggled to keep from crying out. He sat there quivering until the pain subsided.
At some dimly heard inquiry of Daxter's, Jak mumbled through gritted teeth, "I don't know, but my channeling powers…it felt…it felt like the injections." Sparing a glance at his shoulder, he saw the skin around the wound looked burned.
Daxter scratched his head, saying, "So because you can use dark eco to turn into a berserker thing you can't channel other kinds anymore?"
Jak felt his whole being sink at such a prospect. He said slowly, "When I could channel green, blue, yellow, and red eco I couldn't even touch dark, so maybe…maybe it's been reversed."
The pair was silent for awhile, absorbing the information. For Jak, the realization was like a blow to the heart—like he had lost something very dear. He had channeled eco for as long as he cold remember.
He was roused from his thoughts when he felt a small paw push him up straight. Daxter took a bottle containing some sanitizing liquid and several gauze pads out of the kit and set about cleaning Jak's wound. The elf flinched when the cool liquid splashed over his maimed flesh.
"I'm surprised you haven't asked me about Samos and Keira yet."
Jak turned to look at Daxter, wide-eyed and confused. Samos and Keira? Although he desperately clung to his memories of them while in prison, the dark eco had done its work. Now he hardly remembered what they looked like. How would he react if he saw them again? How would they? Would Samos still recognize him? Would Keira still care for him? Was it possible Daxter had found them?
The ottsel read his mind. "Naw, I haven't got a clue where they are. Haven City's pretty damn big, you know."
Jak looked away into space, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder. "Haven City…is that what this place is called?"
"You didn't know? That old fart from last night said so."
Jak didn't answer. Daxter paused in his ministrations before saying, "Don't worry, big guy. You'll get the hang of it again."
Jak grunted, his thoughts already far away from the Underground rooftop in Haven, searching for unspoiled memories of a simple little village where an aqua-haired girl waited on the pristine beach.
Keira grabbed a grimy cloth and wiped the sweat off her forehead, sighing.
In just two days of nonstop cleaning, repairing, and restocking she had managed to put the garage and apartment to rights, however grudgingly. Her first shipment from Krew was on its way, and Errol hadn't reared his ugly head just yet.
Placing hands on her hips, Keira turned in a slow circle, surveying her work. Axle's Garage was back on its feet. Vivian would be proud.
Shaking her head, Keira headed outside, away from the stadium, and towards the canal split streets of the Business District. She needed to walk and did so brusquely, hoping to take her mind off the old days, yet the exercise only caused memories to flood back in greater force. She missed the comfort of Vivian's confidence and curt words of advice. She missed the glow of Ryker's kindness and incessant flirtation. She missed plugging through repairs in the garage and going shooting in the scrap yard. She even missed the lumpy old couch she slept on—and she craved for the kind of soothing that comes from physical contact, innocent or not.
She passed the tool shop where she first met Vivian and the café Ryker loved taking her to. Any little object she laid eyes on held the wisp of business with Vivian or an outing with Ryker. Everything still fell in their shadows, silent witnesses to their double-lives.
Why am I being so stupid? They're dead! Keira punched the nearest wall in frustration before turning to lean against it and heavily sighing. Why…why do I have to think about them now… She glared at several storefronts, as if they knew the answer but wouldn't tell her, when her eyes fell on a familiar sign: The Finest Baked Goods in Haven City! She noted with a chuckle that the sign sat in a window three times the size of the original, revealing a much bigger, expanded bakery within. She smiled at the memory of her first purchase in Haven, before she knew the rarity and value of Precursor orbs. Evidently, the shopkeeper had branched out from her once tiny business.
And then the sight of the bakery brought on memories of her first day in Haven. Her gut clenched and her heart squeezed when she remembered the constant undercurrent of fear she had experienced from waking up in the alley to falling asleep behind the pipe. She was nearly raped; she killed her first man; she sobbed Jak's name over and over again as she lay on the cold, hard ground.
Keira shook her head, berating herself. She hadn't thought of him in so long, hadn't allowed herself to. She trudged away from the bakery, struggling to shove the blonde hero far out of her mind. She attempted to force her attention on the conversations of those around her, but she could barely catch a coherent sentence in her hurry. Keira stopped walking and, pricking her ears up, strained to listen for some thought not her own. And then a single thread rose above the din of the crowd. One of the Baron's loudspeakers stood by a nearby wall, booming out his dreck for all to hear.
"…looking for a rebel fugitive who has caused the city considerable damage of late. This man is armed and extremely—" curious, Keira headed over to the loudspeaker, "—dangerous and can somehow change into a monstrous creature! We have reports he is working with the metal heads to subvert your city and your safety. Report all sightings immediately!"
Keira glanced at the loudspeaker's base; it blazoned a wanted poster. Looking around, she saw several plastered up and down the street. Turning back to the loudspeaker, she examined the poster, her interest piqued by a man who could merit this much attention from the Baron.
Her eyes widened slightly at an image of not a man, but a nightmare.
A creature with ghostly skin and lethal claws stood snarling in a Fortress hallway, surrounded by the defaced bodies of three krimzon guards. It hunched like an animal, brandishing its claws with a sick look of pleasure. Spatters and pools of blood covered the floor and creature alike, but the gore couldn't begin to compare to its eyes. They were like pitch black, soulless marbles.
Beneath the image Keira read not a name but a number—51007—and beneath that a list of offenses: Breaking out of prison, resisting arrest, assault, treason, seditious conduct, advocating rebellion, 38 counts of murder. She raised her eyebrows and looked at the picture again. That's one hell of a fugitive… she thought, and shivers ran down her spine. Something about the monster intensely disturbed her, making the air seem colder. Convulsing slightly, Keira turned from the poster and walked over to the railing so she could stare at the water instead.
Compared with the scummy waters of the port the canal was relatively clean. With the reflection of the sky overhead it even looked blue, a beautiful deep sapphire that sparkled in the sunlight. Keira half-closed her eyes and felt herself grow slightly limp as a nostalgic haze seeped into her being. The lapping of the water against the cement wall turned into foamy breakers undulating on golden sand, the sound became the crashing of waves, and a pair of innocent, laughing eyes peered up at her from below the glittering surface.
"Jak…" She spoke it gently, allowing the hum of his name to linger in the air.
so how's my exploration of characters and what's going on in their little minds working? i've been really struggling to properly convey what i feel to be their motivations and feelings, so do give me feedback. how's my version of the underground? what do you think of jak's readustment issues? and did anyone get my little military reference?
review or death shall become you! ...or something like that...
