#but he did it! without prompting!!!!!!!

[fooltofancy]

had the longest, most honest conversation about belief with my dad today and on the one hand god is it exhausting because they've gone to such an insane place christianitywise, but also? the fuckin growth this man has gone through just to be able to have that conversation is so. it's not comforting, but god is it something to be able to have that conversation period without shouting and tears and just. walking away from it so unfulfilled every time.

[that-one-weird-cloud0]

De-aged Danny wandering the street of Gotham as a five year old:

Batfam: hello child are you alright?

Danny: Yup! :D

Batfam: where are your parents buddy?

Danny: don’t need em. Tried to kill me

Batfam: *concerned* how about you come with us for a little while?

Danny: no thank you mister Batman, I don’t trust adults

Batfam: oh no

[emacrow]

First, It was Barb was doing night checks on wayne manor cameras surveillance pt 2

Previous post pt 1

She was in a bit of awe when she saw the newest very rare exotic flower Alfred got bloom under the light of the full moon, revealing beautiful crystallized like petals blossom, only for her widening eyes to take noticed of a tiny little pixie like child to pop his little head out of the center of the flower.

His hair was unnatural white fluff like a dandelion in her opinion, eyes glowing an otherworldly green, freckles that sparkle like the stars themselves, ears a bit long and pointy, wearing a odd clothing with a needles strapped to his back, that she could barely catch in camera, the static buzzing sound from her cameras was making it a bit difficult to hear what sound the tiny little fairy boy made as he floated above zooming around the garden a bit like he was excited.

It made barb's inner child squeals, screaming, flipping her tiny princess table at the possibly of Nederland being possible.

Curious little bug, floating around like the fairies in Disney like except of the Glow pixie dust like she seen on the movies, he left a trail of blueish green light that faded away rather quickly with the way he was flying into the slightly opened kitchen's window...

Wait a goddamm minutes..

Barb immediately switch cameras to the kitchen, looking around, only to see it went through the hallway already, switching cameras again, checking the living room, the hallways, only to catch a glimpse of trail glow zooming around.

Crap crap. OK, no need to panic Barb. What do curious pixie like fairies out in the human world.. bring the season right?!, play with children like that Bell fairy did? Finds and take lost things and secretly repair lost things?..! Fairies are weak without pixie dust, they don't live long without it, each fairies has a different part of the seasons, and if you don't believe in them then they immediately die and that cause imbalance in the world without their influence unless you truly believe in fairies to bring back one fairy.(she went through a whole fairy obsession phase as a kid, she still mourns the lost of the create your fairy open world game)

The fairy must've Found a new type of pixie dust to fly without wings if she could recall that one sequel with the new pixie dusts colors thing..?

It was like a game of Where Waldo except where the little mythical fairy boy that couldn't possibly- no no barb don't think about the taboo words, if you think about it and this poor mythical being dies due to your words then the guilt will haunt you Forever.

3 hours in the catch the glimpse of the fairy boy, flying back at to his little flower holding a tiny cube of sugar, a shiny tiny object that she can't get a clear of, and a plump blueberry the size of his little hesr as he lands in the petals that were closing around him. Crystallized back close as if to guard this little fairy being with its own life.

Right when the full moon glimpse was gone out of the sight of the garden from the sky when the smog cloud from the city covering once more.. Barb is writing that down in her notes..

[darkeneddawning]

Escaped clone au

You know all those fics where Danny and Damian are twins but everyone first assumes Danny must be a clone? How about an au where Danny is Damian's clone who escaped the League after he was assumed dead. Damian could even have been the one to have "killed" him, back when Danny was a newly created, fully brainwashed clone minion and trying to kill Damian himself.

Danny gets adopted by the Fentons and canon goes on as normal, until Dan. Witnessing what would happen to the world should he turn evil really drove home to Danny how dangerous he is.

Even if he was confident he could be trusted with his absurd amount of power (which he isn't), what if the League of Assassins found out about him? Does he still have programming triggers from his evil assassin clone conditioning?

So, Danny does the responsible thing: he goes to Batman to turn himself in.

Cue Danny showing up on Bruce's doorstep with ghost hunting equipment, intel on the afterlife, and an almost unbelievable backstory. Somehow he still managed to be more well-adjusted than Damian.

More thoughts under the read more

Here's how I'm thinking Danny leaving the League went down:

After surviving his wounds but failing his mission, Danny (then an unnamed potential Damian replacement) knew there was no point in returning to the League. As a failure, he was meant to be disposed of. He even thought of simply allowing himself to perish, since that was what the League would do.

But he couldn't help but feel as though that would be a waste of a resource. Surely he could be of more use to the League alive than dead?

That tiny bit of rebellious logic is what caused Danny to go into hiding, only living on based on the off chance he would find opportunities to further the League's goals. Obviously, that mentality didn't last long after being exposed to the real world and meeting one Jazz Fenton.

Being adopted by the Fentons was the best cover Danny could have asked for, since any odd behavior he couldn't hide while he was learning how to be "normal" was totally overshadowed by the sheer bizarre eccentricity of his new parents. He was still the neighborhood weird kid, but even that was a major upgrade from disposable tool, so Danny considered it a win.

Anyway, if anyone likes this idea, please feel free to have at it! Interpret it as you please :)

[justaz]

when merlin asks arthur for things, the king is usually inclined to give him what he wants but it is not always guaranteed such as when his emotions cloud his judgement. but merlin’s surefire way of getting arthur to give in? he steps into his space, lays a gentle hand on his arm, and says “arthur, please” and he folds like a house of cards.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

It's all fun and games until...

[Commission for @dontheckinswear]

[starry-bi-sky]

*points at bruce and danny in 'late at night when the nightingale sings'* THESE TWO MFERS MEAN SO MUCH TO MEEEE

no thoughts head empty just these two socially inept fools finding family in one another. like yes you go you funky little death omens stole that one from a comment on the fic, so if you see this you know who you are, discover that family isn't only tied in blood.

bUT onto less mushy stuff: these two being shenaniganizers; tomfools. Bruce realized that Danny didn't actually know he was Bruce Wayne and instead of going "oh actually im bruce wayne" he went; "hrm... how long can i keep this going until he realizes...."

like. i think they deserve to be the sillies. just utter goobers the both of them. like, danny makes the wittiest side comments, dry quips, under his breath towards Bruce while they're out in public (Danny covering his face with a face mask) and Bruce is trying not to laugh. Meanwhile if Bruce makes one sly comment about someone to Danny, Danny's gonna collapse with laughter.

Bruce plays straightman in most of their bits, he has the best fucking poker face. But also I firmly believe he does actually enjoy Danny's puns. Look me in the eyes- look me in the eyes. Try and tell me that a man that willingly agrees to call a car "the batmobile" even after his eight year old ward grows up (thus negating the need to go along with his antics) doesn't enjoy a good, well-placed pun. Look me in the eyes and try to tell me that. That's right you can't.

He's gonna spit out a well-placed pun in the driest, most boring Batman Voice Ever one day while he's getting ready for patrol, and Danny's gonna fucking die of laughter. He's gonna lose his mind. Bruce is going to have a half-dead sickly teenager laughing his lungs out in the chair. That's a new core memory right there, every time Danny thinks about that he's gonna start giggling.

just!!! these two making each other laugh! That's so important to me. So so much. I nEED Danny to get Bruce to smile and laugh and I need Bruce to make Danny do the same. Danny's all snark and sass and Bruce is all deadpan and dry quips. Do you all see my vision.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 138

Danny squints up at the blurry form cradling him, brain trying to catch up with his situation. He can feel the pulse of his siblings’ cores nearby, gently pulsing contentedly despite the chaos of his last memories. His limbs feel too small and pudgy, too-small fingers gripping onto something as his vision started to clear. 

There was a man, holding him? Cradling his too-small form like he was an infant- was he an infant? He was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be, he had been older but now he wasn’t. He squinted up at the stranger, green eyes meeting green. Huh. They kind of looked like he could be their dad or something. 

[moonlight-stalker]

# 59 Dc X Dp

Danny has been living with the Waynes for several months now, in those months he has learned that the Wayne are the bats, they have left some of their equipment lying around the manor. Danny has not said anything about it because when he sees the equipment with somebody there they get anxious he comes to a collision that they didn't mean to leave it out so he pretends not to know

The Waynes have been leaving hints about the vigilant life to the new brother/son they want him to know but do not want to tell themselves, they wish for him to figure it out himself

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

i love it when bad is very specifically a good roleplayer by giving other people good prompts. like casually bringing up wilbur now to tallulah. or when he put missa in the petting zoo. or all those times he Tormented the Lesbians so they could protect each other from him. its just so !!!! I love watching roleplayers be considerate of other roleplayers and gleefully hand over something they Know the other person's character can react to. i've seen cellbit do it, too (that time he handed his knife to bbh. oh my god). it's not a rare thing, and it's possible to be a good roleplayer without keeping that sort of considerate back and forth in mind, but its one of my favourite things to notice. foolish does it too, sometimes- i haven't watched him much, but i did take note of when he Made Sure to bring jaiden along with him on a cucurucho quest. and basically every interaction he had with bad when the eggs were missing. its just so so good

[nelkcats]

Cursed Memories

Johnny, son of the witch who cursed Gotham and Kitty, daughter of Carmine Falcone were curious about what happened to their city after they both died. Kitty consistently refused to go to Gotham because she saw no point in reminiscing.

However, Johnny was a completely different case. While Gotham was known to be full of curses, they were moderately "controlled" before, but after one of the families went after Kitty and he died as a result, his mother became enraged, cursing Gotham to the point of no return and creating a city spirit.

After much pleading, Kitty finally agreed and they both headed to Gotham. Carmine Falcone who was arguing with Salvatore almost fainted when he saw his daughter smiling in his office. Since she had been convinced to return, Kitty had some plans for those who dared to kill her before her engagement.

On the other hand, Johnny dedicated himself to walking through the streets of Crime Alley, his former home. Being followed by Gotham's spirit and a shocked Red Hood who could see the shadows moving around the blonde, things getting destroying in his path.

A war between the families was about to take place thanks to the ghosts, and no one was prepared.

[minty364]

DPXDC Promp#58 Part 5

When he came too he was in the basement.

A soft hum came from the now activated portal, Danny couldn’t help but stare at it, the swirling green was mesmerizing and something in him felt a little different. He thought about what that might be for a moment but he was unable to tear his eyes away from the swirling patterns that called to him, beckoning him. 

“D-Danny?” Jazz said from behind him her voice was small and quiet, Danny almost didn’t hear her. 

He was sitting so he let himself fall onto his back and looked up at her.

She was right behind Damian and Tim who were watching him apprehensively, their hands held up in a defensive position. Jazz had a look of confusion and dread on her face while Damian also seemed confused but there was an anger there that Danny couldn’t quite place. Tim meanwhile looked like he was preparing to steal his emotions, probably because he was the eldest of the group. 

He wasn’t sure what was going on but he looked around the lab for the sink he knew had a mirror over it and when he found it he got up and walked over to see his reflection. Or well he tried, his body started floating as soon as he stood, he somehow was able to get to the mirror and looked at his reflection.

He was paler than before, almost as white as a sheet, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. His once blue eyes were a vibrant neon green, his hair once black is now white as snow. Even his hazmat suit inverted colors. White boots and gloves and a black suit. 

He fell back from the mirror onto his back as he shifted away from his reflection. It was terrifying that he could see Jazz, Tim, and Damian watching through him, he was transparent like he wasn’t really there.

He had really died, he was a ghost, the very thing his parents ranted on and on about every time he or Jazz was in ear shot. They’d rant about how evil they were and how they’d find one to dissect after the portal was completed. If that wasn’t enough he realized he couldn’t feel his pulse and he hadn’t been breathing this entire time.

He was panicking now, what exactly did this mean for him? Was his parents going to find him in the basement and try to dissect him? Should he go into the portal? If it did go to the ‘ghost zone’ as his parents called it shouldn’t he live there now? 

He could feel himself start to break as silent sobs wracked his body, he still wasn’t breathing but that probably didn’t matter if he was a ghost. 

If his parents were right about ghosts that meant he was a monster now, he probably wouldn’t be allowed near anyone again. He’d never be able to feel the warm embraces of his sisters hugs again. He desperately wanted to feel that warm again. It was the only feeling he could cling onto, and it was then that something happened. 

A bright light flashed around him, a ring around his center that split in two, one going up and the other going down.

When it was done, Danny was back in his white hazmat suit with black accents. He scrambled back up to see his reflection and he was indeed back to normal somehow and he was again tied to earth's gravity.

He could feel tears well up in his eyes again as he turned around to Jazz and their friends, “I-I’m alive?” he couldn’t stop his voice from trembling, his entire body felt chilly and he couldn’t stop himself from crying, sobbing as he struggled from air that he apparently needed again.

Damian and Tim shared a glance but Jazz ran past them as she pulled Danny into a hug. His sister was so warm and he couldn’t help but melt into it as the two cried sobbing and clinging onto each other. 

Danny was here and he was somehow alive, he was sure being a ghost was permanent but somehow he was alive and he could hold, hug, and protect those he loved. A warmth spread from his chest. 

He could tell he was indeed different now, but he wasn’t going to dwell on it at the moment. His sister was here and he was hugging her.

Damian and Tim approached slowly like they couldn’t believe Danny was here alive and well either. Damian scowled at Danny, he rarely got frustrated at him but here was and Danny didn’t get why, “why did you sacrifice yourself like that?!” Damian shouted.

Danny took a few calming breaths before speaking, “I-I tripped, I saw you and figured it was too late for me…”

Jazz and Tim looked at him terrified before Tim spoke up, “you mean they built the damn ‘on’ button on the inside?” 

Before either Danny or Jazz could speak up the door leading to the kitchen opened up, “kids? Are you still down there?” Their mom called before heading down the stairs. When she got to the bottom they could see the elegant green dress she wore that hugged her figure. She gasped as she dropped her purse, staring at the portal. “JACK!!” she shouted up the stairs before running over to the lockers to put her hazmat suit back on.

Jack walked down the stairs sullenly but once he too saw the now activated portal he rushed to put on his suit as well. 

“I thought you guys had left?” Jazz asked, pushing Danny behind her protectively, Danny wasn’t sure if she realized what happened yet but keeping him away from them until they had a better grasp over what happened was probably a good call.

Maddie shrugged as she put her goggles on her head letting it snap against her forehead with a little snap, “I forgot my Fenton-lipstick.” The reply was nonchalant.

The four friends found themselves getting pushed out of the lab as the scientists busied themselves measuring and taking readings from their new portal.

They quickly got out of the suits and gathered whatever they needed for the sleepover over at Wayne manor. Danny didn’t really care what he was packing, just shoving things into his book bag. Whatever had just occurred rattled him a little. He couldn’t help but worry that this was just the beginning. 

“That was quite some time you all took,” Alfred noted once they were seated in the back with Tim in the front and Danny in the middle in the back. Everyone kept glancing at Danny to make sure he was okay but he felt fine at the moment. 

“Uh, well,” Jazz started, “something happened to Danny,” she struggled to say. None of them were quite sure exactly what was happening but the sooner they got to a quiet space to discuss they were going too. 

Alfred glanced at Danny from the rearview mirror as he drove, “will we need to take Master Daniel to the hospital?”

Tim cut in before anyone else could, “that’s quite alright Alfred, we aren’t exactly sure what happened but we might have a code lazarus on our hands.”

Danny and Jazz shared a look, they were both equally confused having no clue what code lazarus meant. Tim normally wasn’t this serious although Danny figured the circumstances weren’t normal either.

They'd discuss thing’s later when they had privacy at Wayne manor.

[gd-dollopole]

I can’t stop thinking about a poisoned Arthur, who’s not sick with just any poison. Maybe he’s hit by someone with magic and he has no collateral effects, except that of his body slowly dying.

It doesn’t matter if takes years or months or weeks or days, Arthur knows that one day, he will die. He does not get weaker or unable to do things, he just dissipates, and he knows the moment when he’ll be forever gone.

Everybody knows.

Although, there is a cure to his poisoned body, the only one, but Arthur refuses to take it.

Because if he cures himself of the deadly poison, the price to pay is too high:

he will forever forget the person he loves the most, and will never be able to love them again. His memory will be wiped out each time it comes back.

And Arthur doesn’t want to forget Merlin.

Arthur would rather die in the knowledge that he loves him and has known him, than live a life without Merlin by his side, and without his love and care.

[bumblingbabooshka]

In 'vis a vis' Janeway doesn't mention B'Elanna in the list of people who're worried about Tom which implies that B'Elanna didn't report the fact that "Tom" grabbed her arm, called her a disappointment and broke up with her (as Janeway definitely would have mentioned it as evidence of him acting strange if she knew about it) which makes sense on several different fronts but also makes me scream and cry loud enough to break glass.

[jolluxiscool]

DAY 2!

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Thursday:

"Responsible Adults", the sequel: Jak tries to do a regular Jak Stunt and is shocked that it doesn't go over well

(Roughly a week after this one ends. Long post warning, as most of these are lol)

Night terrors were not an uncommon experience for Jak. They may not have been his nightly companions anymore, but when he did have them, they were intense. He woke up in a corner of his room, wedged beneath the sink. There was a vague sense that he was taking cover from something, or someone.

Blessedly, he remembered no details of the nightmare. But the terror still sent his guts quivering the way they had in the prison. Huddled under the cot both for warmth and silently praying the boots wouldn't stop at his door. That he wouldn't end up Tyber's new punching bag when he got bored of the old man in the cell above Jak's.

Tyber is dead. Errol is dead. Praxis is dead. I watched them die.

Jak repeated the words like a mantra until he could move his limbs again. He crawled out from beneath the sink, but the lingering fear made his room feel claustrophobic. Smaller than it really was.

At least he hadn't woken Daxter this time.

Jak put on his boots, but didn't bother getting fully dressed. He didn't even know what time it was. Why bother if the doctor and the king guy were just going to nag him about being sleep-deprived anyway?

It must have been early morning, before dawn; the moon had vanished and people were outside doing repair work on houses and fog-catchers.

Early morning was the best time to get any outdoor work done in Spargus. A small girl led a flock of caprids out of the stables and towards one of the other districts to graze on the cactus there, and a gang of trainees only a little older than Jak were taking advantage of the temperature to do an endurance run around the city.

Personally, Jak didn't see the good of such things. You learned to be fast enough or smart enough to escape your enemies, or you didn't. He'd learned through life and death experience, not a footrace with no winners.

"Easy with the straps there!" A stocky man backed into Jak, calling up to a team of three people.

"Ope-! Scuse me there, pipsqueak." The Wastelander stepped to the side as if Jak was barely worth noticing.

"Howland, that thing ain't cinched tight enough!"

They seemed to be trying to remove a corroded beam from the supports of one of the multi dwelling houses. It was already leaning at a precarious angle, as big around as a grown man. If that beam came down the wrong way, it would take a lot of the adobe structure -- and probably a lot of people -- with it.

"It's fine, Daru!" Howland complained, "I just cinched it!"

"Well cinch it again! That sucker’s leanin'!"

Jak frowned, but let his curiosity wash away the dregs of the night terrors.

"What's wrong with it?"

The unofficial foreman tugged at a bushy red mustache and shook his head. "Don't rightly know yet. Could just be age. Sand storms and salt air will do a number on this kind of metal after a while."

Jak wondered if that had anything to do with Sandover using wood and stone almost exclusively. He was about to ask why it had been anchored to a mud wall when there was a loud metallic clang. The last bracket holding the beam snapped under the weight, and the straps weren't enough to hold it.

Jak didn't remember moving. But then he was there, with the beam on his shoulders and the foreman on the ground, having narrowly avoided being crushed to death. Cold metal dug into his hands, pressed down against his head, and Jak knew that by rights he should've been dead.

There was a thrill of revulsion in his chest when he reluctantly acknowledged that the only reason he was standing right now was that the dark eco experiments had lengthened his muscle strands to twice the size of a normal hu'men's. It wasn't just in his dark form. That element of...unnatural...was just with him. Every moment.

"Frith! Oh my- HOWLAND! GET DOWN HERE!" Daru roared, "YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEBODY!"

"I got it," Jak said through gritted teeth. "Is there a place to put this thing down?"

"Not yet," Howland admitted as he shimmied down a ladder.

"We were going to cut it into pieces once it was secure, transport it that way to be recycled."

Jak craned his neck, but the motion jarred the beam. Hastily, he adjusted his grip.

"What's- What's around me?"

"Too much," said Daru grimly. "Just- Hold on, kid."

He winced at the boy's flat stare.

"Er...no pun intended. We're gonna, gonna get you out from under there, I promise!"

"Get it cut up first," Jak grunted, "And you won't have to worry about getting me out."

"And what if your hands get sweaty, huh?" Daru demanded, "Fat chance, little man! We're going to find something to hold this up!"

The other two men hurried down from the roof with saws in hand.

Oh gods. Handsaws. This was going to take a while.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Honestly, Damas should have been expecting trouble when he didn't start his day with a free heart attack after seeing eyeshine in the kitchen. The kid was diametrically opposed to the concept of sleep, so he wouldn't have been in bed. If he was off his routine -- and by now Damas had learned to dread something interrupting the kid's self-imposed routine -- then there was probably going to be trouble later.

When he refilled the fuel in the Beacon, fed the birds, and actually had a cup of coffee uninterrupted, he was suspicious.

When the sun rose and there were no echoes of truncated curses in the halls from guards running into Jak, he started to wonder if the kid had decided to work outside. Unusual, but as long as he didn't do anything that would make Dr. Petros yell at them both, more power to him.

But when the talking ottsel showed up in the throne room about an hour after dawn, frantically demanding to know where Jak was, Damas was concerned.

Those two were attached at the hip! Jak wouldn't have gone to look for work without Daxter.

There was a small crowd forming by the time Damas stepped outside. People were shouting encouragements, or conflicting advice about pulleys and snatchblocks. Had something fallen? Damas hadn't heard any impacts. As he began to pick his way through the crowd, the shouts took on new meaning.

"He's slipping! Somebody get under there!"

"How many more hands do you want? There's ten people holding the beam up!"

"Why won't he just let go?!"

"Standing this long, maybe his arms locked up-?"

A beam? People holding a beam-?

An accident. There'd been an accident and night watch hadn't caught it.

Thoughts of crushed citizens and mangled houses circled Damas’s imagination as he pushed through the rest of the crowd, close enough to hear the rasp of handsaws and the buzz of a lone angle grinder.

"Get the cart back in!" Someone yelled, "Next piece is almost off!"

From the looks of things, a crew of four had reduced a two-story high support beam by a third.

Ten Wastelanders were beneath the colossal pole, hands and shoulders braced against the metal as it shrieked and groaned. If even one of them slipped-!

Damas threw down his staff without thinking to join them, racing to catch the end beginning to slide.

"What happened?" he demanded, straining with the others to keep it from crushing the houses and themselves.

"Tie straps broke!" a man three people down called back, "If it weren't for the kid, it woulda come down right through the roofs of a couple houses!"

Kid?

Oh gods don't tell me...

Jak was standing in the very center of the line. His arms trembled, and sweat poured down his face. He didn't seem to hear anything happening around him, too focused on keeping his grip. He was beginning to pale.

"What's he doing here?!"

"Dunno!" A woman to the left answered. "He was already there when me and the girls showed up, but that was two hours ago."

"Hours?!"

Jak had been out here for hours, trapped, and Damas had been none the wiser?

"Why hasn't anyone gotten him out yet?!"

"We tried! The poor kid froze up!"

Damas gritted his teeth and pushed away images of the kid standing alone under that crushing weight for hours until help had woken up.

"Get a truck and winch out of the pit!" He ordered, "Forget damage to the streets, we'll fix it later! I want this thing taken care of now."

It took a full twenty minutes to get the Dozer through the narrow streets of the tower district. By that time, those who had been holding the beam first had cycled out for fresh arms to allow for water and eco. All except Jak. He'd accepted some water that someone poured into his mouth earlier, but still seemed to be unable to let go. He was at the fulcrum point, he insisted, and he wasn't going to let it tip. (Not that he thought he'd actually be able to move at this point.)

Fifteen people attached pulleys and cables to the beam from above, careful not to dislodge the hands of those below. When the cables had all been hooked to the Dozer's winch, the weight began, at last, to lessen.

There was a ragged cheer from the assembled Wastelanders as the end of the beam tipped up and the rescuers eased the other end to the ground. There would be extensive damage to infrastructure to deal with. But nobody had died, and there were no major injuries, and Damas would count that as a victory. Shaking out aching arms, he hurried to the center of the line, where someone was physically holding Jak upright. Damas took hold of the boy's stiff arms carefully.

"It's gone," he said, easing the limbs down, "It's gone, let go, Jak. Come on, you're done."

The kid made a sound, a soft rasping whine that might’ve been words. Then he collapsed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

When the world drifted back into focus, Jak didn't know where he was. The smell of eco lingered around him, confusing the other scents that could have identified his location. He couldn't move his arms. Why couldn't he move his arms?!

It took a massive effort just to pry his eyelids up. Jak’s breath caught harshly between his teeth as he forced himself onto his side.

Well, that explained the lack of mobility in his arms. He ached like he'd been fighting beyond his limits again. The injection sites would be agitated again, he knew without looking. The pain radiated from his shoulders to his fingertips, skin, muscle, and bone.

The room was a blur. Brown and yellow slowly settled into more colors, ending in something either white or pale blue in front of his nose. The longer he stared at it, the more detail he could see. Pills of thread, clinging to loosely woven fabric. The texture and shape of the warp and weft shifted as he tried to move his hand.

He hissed in pain.

"Well that's what happens when you try to make a career as a load-bearing wall."

Jak tensed. Not alone. Not with Daxter.

Biting down on the pain, he dug his fingers into the pallet beneath him and forced himself upright.

This wasn't the hospital -- small blessings -- but it wasn't his room either. There was a low wooden bedframe on a wall a few feet away, on the other side of some kind of half partition full of plants.

"Where...?"

"Well you're about to think of it as prison," Damas answered from the opposite direction.

He was sitting at a table, hunched over a cup of coffee. The empty pot beside him was a story of its own.

"By the way, you're grounded."

"What?!" Jak sputtered. He started to get up, but fell back onto the pallet with a grunt of pain.

"Like rot!"

Damas glanced back over his shoulder. "Take it up with the doctor. He put you on bedrest, not me. Better yet, blame your own self! You could've let go at any time once the rest of the district turned up to help!"

"The whole...district?"

Jak blinked.

"I don't...remember that..."

Damas sighed and peered into into his mug.

"You've been sleeping most of the day, I'm not surprised. Even with the eco you'll probably be sore for a while."

"How -- ow! -- long was I out there?"

Jak cringed at the look in Damas’s eyes when the man turned around fully.

"Four. Hours. Four hours! Why didn't you let go when others arrived?!"

Was this a trick question? It had to be a trick question.

"Be...cause...I'm not supposed to let other people get hurt?" Jak answered with slow confusion.

Damas stared in complete silence for several seconds. Then,

"You're insane. My foster-son is insane. That's insane! In what world is "throw the youngest under the pillar" a rational solution?!"

"Uh. Haven?" Jak muttered peevishly. He tried to sit up again. "Look, just. Tell me which way my room is and I'll get out of your hair."

Damas pushed his chair back with a scraping sound.

"Mn. No. What part of "bed rest" didn't you hear?"

In brusque motions, he knelt and pulled the blanket back over Jak.

"You are not to do anything even mildly strenuous, or Petros will strangle me. And since I apparently can't trust you not to willingly walk into harm's way unsupervised, you get to camp out in here, and I get to work from home for the next few days to make sure you don't go try to lift a car or something!"

Jak was appalled. "You can't do that!"

Dry as dust, Damas retorted, "First of all, I'm king. Secondly, I'm your legal guardian. Yes I can."

Jak groaned in frustration.

"Where's Daxter?"

"Not grounded."

"Oh come on!"