#prompt: stubborn

[serickswrites]

Two Birds, One Bullet

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Warnings: restraints, captivity, threat of torture, threat of death, gun, falling from a great height, defiant whumpee, forced to choose, potential mcd (emphasis on POTENTIAL)

Whumper circled Whumpee and Caretaker, waving their gun in the air as they spoke. “Well, well, well, looks like I captured two little birds in my net instead of just the one I was wanting.”

Whumpee struggled against the rope around their wrists, barely noticing the painful chafing as they tried to break free. They pushed against Whumper’s goons as they held Whumpee down. “LET CARETAKER GO!”

“Whumpee, it’s ok, it’s ok,” Caretaker whispered. 

Whumpee knew Caretaker was lying. Knew by the fine tremor that wracked their frame. Knew by the look in their eyes. Knew by the way their held their mouth. They knew that Caretaker was terrified and it was all their fault. 

“Why would I do that?” Whumper rounded on Whumpee. “I only wanted you and now I have something precious to you. Maybe then you’ll give me what I want. Just give me a few moments with Caretaker.”

“I will never give you what you want. You hurt one hair on Caretaker’s head, you can kiss this source of information goodbye.”

“Everyone always talks, Whumpee. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I will never, ever, ever tell you.” Whumpee spat the last word out with such venom that Caretaker flinched back and deeper into Whumper’s goons’ arms. 

“We’ll just see about that,” Whumper muttered. They took a deep breath. “Don’t you think this is such a pretty view?” They gestured around them, giving a quick twirl. “Perks of owning a castle.”

“Bit pretentious if you ask me.”

“Whumpee!” Caretaker hissed as one of the goons dug nails into their arms. 

“If you hurt them, I won’t tell you a thing, Whumper! I mean it! Let them go!”

“You are so stubborn,” Whumper rolled their eyes. “Very well, I’ll make you a deal, Whumpee. You get to pick. What happens to my two birds. I only have one bullet in my gun, the bullet that was meant for you.” Whumper grabbed Whumpee by their shirt collar and dragged them to the edge. “You choose, who gets the bullet and who gets to answer my questions.”

“CARETAKER DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING! LET THEM GO!” Whumpee struggled against Whumper.

Whumper tightened their grip. “Ah, but I can’t be sure. I can’t be sure they don’t know. And letting them go isn’t one of your choices, Whumpee. So do you want me to shoot Caretaker in the head?”

“NO!” Whumpee roared, “LET THEM GO NOW! I WON’T TELL YOU A THING IF YOU HURT THEM! LET THEM GO!” Whumpee yelled, surging forward and headbutting Whumper in the process. 

Whumper put a hand to their forehead. “I wouldn’t say such things if I were you.”

“LET. THEM. GO.” Whumpee’s words were so full of rage that Caretaker flinched back. They had never heard Whumpee act like this before. 

“Bullet for you or for Caretaker.” Whumper got in close once more, running the gun along Whumpee’s jaw. “It could be quick for them. Just a one, two, and poof, Caretaker’s gone. It won’t be quick if you pick you. Can’t blame you though. It would be the cowardly thing to pick you and let them suffer in your place.”

Whumpee growled and surged forward once more, headbutting Whumper even harder. With a roar of rage, Whumper shoved Whumpee backwards. “Fine. No bullet for you.”

Caretaker looked on in horror as Whumper shoved Whumpee once more towards the edge and Whumpee toppled over backwards. “NOOOOO!”

As Whumpee sailed through the air, they could hear Whumper’s laugh. Could hear Caretaker’s screams. And they hoped that Caretaker would be alright. That they wouldn’t pay for Whumpee’s defiance. And that the team would make it in time to save Caretaker. Whumpee couldn’t do it. And the team wouldn’t be in time for them. Because Whumpee was out of time. 

Whumpee closed their eyes a breath before they hit the ground and knew nothing more. 

[starry-bi-sky]

Stillborn danyal al ghul au incorrect quotes - dpxdc au

Vlad and Danny, fighting for the nth time this month: Danyal, exhausted: hey if i call you dad will you like. Stop. I have a test tomorrow. Vlad, has a parental bone in EVERY part of his body: *immediately stopping* Vlad: What do you mEAN YOU HAVE A TEST. WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAD WITH THAT-- Danny: BECAUSE YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL DR. FENTON AGAIN, VLADIMIR.

-------------

Danny, flopping into bed facefirst: i need sleep or rehab. again Tucker (maybe?? I haven't decided yet who he's friends with): i thought you were clean Danny, into a pillow: not if this keeps up.

-------------

Tucker: favorite superhero go Sam: Wonder Woman Danny: the Flash Tucker: Okay Sam's is obvious but, Danny I would've thought you'd say like, Martian Manhunter or Superman or Starfire. But Flash?? Danny: i had a foster in Central City for a few years and met him, he's a really nice guy. He made me promise to invite him to my high school graduation and is part of the reason I made it to rehab and ended up getting rehomed and picked up by the Fentons. Danny: I have a hoodie with his logo on it in my closet, i saved up to buy it and its the first thing I got with the allowance the Fentons got me

------------

Danny wearing three layers and a scarf in the middle of summer: *shivering* Sam: how are you cold you're literally made of lava Danny, hissing: lava cools at contact with the air and I'm trying to keep my body temperature at a reasonable level, SAM. Tucker, touching Danny: you feel warm to me Danny: to YOU

------------

Danny:...i could eat lava Tucker: Sam: Danny: Tucker: do it. no balls Danny, getting up: bET--

------------

Danny: Dash: The Both Of Them: *under the bleachers to smoke/vape* Danny, smokes: I wont tell if you won't tell Dash, vapes: ....deal

-----------

Danny, breaking into Vlad's lab: YOU FUCKER QUIT-- what the hell is that Vlad, working on his newest invention: Language. ....And it's something I'm working on, go away Danny: what? no, fuck you. You're trying to kill Jack again and this looks interesting. I was gonna come beat you but now I'm curious what the hell this is (Vlad spends a good hour explaining what he's doing before they start arguing and Danny starts a fight)

------

Danny laying on the ground staring the ceiling, feeling like shit: Jazz, popping by his room: ,,,what'cha doing, Danny? Danny: Danny, internally: 'Jazz says i should be more open' Danny: considering the benefits of relapsing Jazz, immediately stepping into the room: oh okay so lets talk.

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Danny, meeting Robin as Phantom for the first time unaware of his identity and his own birthright: Robin: Phantom: Phantom: fuck you Robin, a 12 year old: fUCK YOU

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Vlad: Jack Fenton iced me out of my early adulthood and got you, his foster son, killed by his own invention. He is a danger to society and I personally want him dead. Danny: okay, cool motive still murder. Danny, louder: I DONT NEED YOU TO TAKE REVENGE ON MY BEHALF

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Vlad, grabbing Danny's shoulders: aren't you tired of being nice Danny: Vlad: don't you want to go apeshit Danny, in the american foster system since infancy, was in rehab at 11 years old, has been fucked over metaphorically, emotionally, physically, ten times over: Danny: i feel like we need to have a talk

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DP/Regular DPDC Vlad: *gripping by the shoulders* DPDC Vlad: how Stillborn Vlad: what DP/DC Vlad: how are you getting him to like you. Stillborn Vlad:,,, well first off i don't torture him so jot that down Stillborn Vlad: second of all, like is a strong word. Stillborn Vlad: Daniel only likes me on tuesdays and when i show him how to make fireballs

[nat-1-whump]

"Caretaker, I'm f-fine. It's only a little cut. I can..." Whumpee wobbled, losing their grip on the wall they were leaning on. "... I can fix it myself."

Caretaker was already opening the medical kit, rummaging around for some scissors to cut through Whumpee's shirt. "No, you're not 'fine!' You're covered in blood! Now sit down, or I'll make you."

"I never said it was... All my blood..." Whumpee mumbled, as they slid down the wall into a sitting position on the floor.

Caretaker knelt in front of them, peeling back the sticky, reddened fabric to expose the wound on Whumpee's chest. Their jaw tensed. Somehow, it was even worse than they thought. They'd be lucky if it wasn't already infected. How long had Whumpee been hiding the damn thing?

"It's not that bad, I pro---mmph!" Whumpee's eyes widened as Caretaker stuffed a roll of gauze into their mouth.

Caretaker shot Whumpee a pointed glare and set to work trying to stem the bleeding. "Shut it. I don't want another word out of you unless it's an explanation."

[mischievous-thunder]

Everyone knows.

[whumptydaisy]

Oh Oh Oh! You know what I wanna see?

Suicidal Whumpees

(This has nothing to do with my own issues shut up)

Particularly, a Defiant Suicidal Whumpee

A Whumpee who gets captured, who gets beaten black and blue, tortured with everything Whumper can throw at them, but still spits in their face at the end of the session

A Whumpee who taunts and mocks their captors at every turn, regardless of how much worse it makes things for themself

A Whumpee who acts as the biggest thorn in Whumper’s side because they won’t back down, they won’t submit, they won’t just give up like Whumper wants

A Whumpee who does all of this because they don’t care. Who, when threatened with death, looks Whumper dead in the eye and says “bring it”, who’ll get the barrel of a gun pointed at their head and just lean forwards and tell Whumper to pull the trigger with a smile on their face

A Whumpee who takes everything Whumper does to hurt them and still throws insults back at them, because deep down they’re hoping if they piss Whumper off enough, if they push them too far, Whumper might actually kill them and it will all end

A Defiant Whumpee who spits in Whumper’s face and prays that this time it’ll finally be the straw the broke the camels back and they’ll be free

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 76

Both worlds are different dimensions.

Danny has always had a mark one that was a clear (shape/animal/hero symbol/whatever) on his wrist. Since the day he was born. His parents always just told him it made him even more special.

The nasty burger explosion happens.

He can’t go to vlad so he hides in the realm. Only to fall through a natural portal.

It’s then the mark gains colors.

Danny realizes the marks are soul-marks in this dimension. I prefer parental marks so that’s what the rest of my idea is for but it could be romantic/platonic as well.

Danny who just lost his entire family and feels completely at fault just says nope. he won’t risk it being a thing. It’s not even his home dimension anyways. So like it won’t match anybody anyways. Right?

So he hides the mark and just goes about life as a homeless teen with superpowers.

He’s not out looking to be a vigilante but if something is happening infringe of him and no one else is acting he will.

One day he gets caught in a bad fight. Ends up injured probably helping someone else not get hurt.

It’s then the soul mark is revealed to be for *insert dc character name here*

For some angst. Danny was original born in the dc. When a mark blackens it means the other person is dead. Or in this case separated by different dimensions. So for a year or two the other person had there marked colored only. Then Danny “died”.

The other person thought he was dead.

[puppetmaster13u]

I just had a thought, fueled by the fact I have a fever probably.

Bruce, Batman, is very mom-coded.

Tony, Iron Man, is very dad-coded.

They should platonically co-parent.

[harringroveera]

Harringrove soulmates/soulmarks AU

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Whump Dialogue #2

"Look, you can't expect me to just sit here all day doing nothing!"

"You're just going to make your injuries worse!"

"I'll be careful, I just---"

"Take one more step and I'm tying your stubborn ass to the bed."

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Poisonous Rivalry

I know we like to comment on how Sam would probably idolized Poison Ivy, but would they actually get along?

They're very alike. They're headstrong, determined, and willing to cross lines to accomplish what they think is right. Also can be a bit abrasive, especially when you're on the other side of an argument

They're too alike

They would hate each other. Not like in a kill each other way, but I can't stand this person and need to one up them kind of rivalry

so imagine if you will, Danny and Sam (also Tucker if you want Eternal Trio) moving in next door to Harley and Ivy's place in Coney Island. Danny and Harley? They get along great. Thick as thieves and invite each other over all the time, have lunch together, and cause chaos the likes of which make even the gods tremble. Ya know, regular besties stuff

Sam and Ivy? They try to be civil for the sake of their spouses, but can't stand each other. It comes out as petty one-upmanship and they're constantly competing. "I helped raise this much for charity" "I killed the CEO of Polluters R Us" and their gardens? Beautiful! Stupendous! Amazing! They're gorgeous and it drives them both crazy

[abhainnwhump]

Stoic Caretaker forcing sleep-deprived and sick Whumpee to get some sleep.

"Mm . . . no. Caretaker m'fine. I have work I need to do-"

"If you don't take a god damn nap, I'm going to shove a bottle of Nyquil down your throat."

[slippedtheknot]

"Do You Ever Listen to Me?"

"I told you not to go there." Caretaker's voice rose as they began to unpack the medkit. "Do you ever listen to me? Do you understand that you could have died?"

"Yes Caretaker, I do." Whumpee glared at Caretaker. "I said I was sorry, and I learned my lesson. What more do you want from me?"

"I want you to understand that when I tell you to not do something or go somewhere, it's not because I love having control over you but because I care about you."

[reid-whump]

Stubborn/Protective Caretaking Prompts

“Whumpee, where are those scars from?”

“You can take as long as you need, but I’m not leaving. Understand?”

“Leave them alone.”

“Don’t touch them!”

“Do you normally get nightmares like that?”

“I’ve never seen you act like that before…”

“I know how much this hurts, and i need you to understand that it’s okay to be affected by something like this, whumpee.”

“Crying has health benefits, i know, but I hate seeing you like this.”

“There was nothing you could have done to change your situation, don’t you understand that??”

“I don’t recognise you anymore.” “Well neither do i”

“You are never alone as long as I’m with you.”

“This is who i am now!” “Whumpee, it doesn’t have to be…” “but it is anyway!!”

“You can still be a good person whumpee, like you were before.” “I will never be the same person I was before.”

“You know, we used to be inseparable. I miss the way we were.”

[oolhan]

Too Many Beds

welp. I've managed to make some decent writing out of @waywardangel-wilds's blog about reversed tropes lol. This is unbeta-ed and all so here goes nothing!

Part 2 is here and 3 is already up here

Part 1:

It started innocently enough. Their friend group after college always had an annual trip somewhere far from their busy lives from their respective cities. Three years ago, they did the Bahamas with Delly's boyfriend Thom as their local tourist guide. Because of the good weather and the white sands, the island was packed with tourists. They almost fought the receptionist of a dingy motel just to secure four tiny spaces. One for the couple, another for Finnick and Gale, Johanna and Annie's, and the last door for both of them.

Katniss and Peeta, bestfriends since childhood. Witnessed each other's puberty and insecurities, pulling all nighters just to be handed with diplomas, presenting those diplomas in countless job hunts. Found themselves only a block away from their workplaces, Katniss a columnist for the city's paper, Peeta baking all day at the nearby posh pastry shop.

So, sharing the tiny bed for two nights in a vacation shouldn't be weird at all, right? They've seen it all. Almost.

So, they did. Ironically enough it didn't feel weird at all. It felt the opposite, actually. What is that opposite though?

After those two nights of fitful sleep, it became an unspoken agreement they share a room in the next trips. They shared an old rickety bedpost with just a mattress and no duvet covers in some hut in Thailand last two years ago. A mattress with no bedpost when they decided backpacking across Europe was fun and their hostel in Barcelona only had three rooms for the 8 of them. A big enough couch in Austria. Wrestled a tiny blanket in Portugal.

No one in their group questioned their sharing, only teasing glances from Johanna and Annie in that Bahamas trip.  Because it felt natural, it felt fitting.

The conditions were weird, but it was okay. She likes the excuse she gets just to feel his arms spoon her, even just for a night. It became Katniss' favorite thing to anticipate in these vacations. Yet, she's never admitting that to anyone because after they come home and separate again at the airport, some sort of spell dies and only reawakens on next year's trip. For some reason they never sleep together even when visiting the apartment of the other. Really though, it was innocent cuddling between two childhood friends.

Peeta on the other hand, barely keeps it together. Sure, the sharing was innocent, and he likes the feel of her limbs bumping and tying with his own, but God does he want to just cocoon her in his chest, smell the fragrance of her hair, play with the strands, fidget his fingers on the circles of her shoulders. But he knew it's weird to do, and it may only make her uncomfortable.

And so, in those few nights they lay together in the past three years, he musters up most of the restraint he can. Because it was painful enough to just be friends with her, painful enough to hide the fact that he was a goner ever since they were five and never took the chance to confess, painful enough to witness her grow into a beautiful woman and hang out with jerks like Cato in high school and Marvel in college.

He'll fall apart if he admitted his feelings and she break up their friendship. Not when he can get these borrowed moments instead. Not when they're almost 30. Innocent sleeping, right?

No. Not when she wore some skimpy sleep shorts because she complained it was too humid in the tropical island. Not when she can feel his morning wood against her backside on mornings when she's the first to wake. Not when a housekeeper complimented how good of a couple they look when she carried some extra towels in their room, teasing with innuendos on her way out that made both blush and frantic.

Fuck those shorts, he thinks as he tries to pry his eyes away and concentrate on getting the shading right. He was propped up on the bed post, sketching away as a habit before sleeping and he has a good view of her ass bent over the end of her bed, arranging clothes on her luggage.

"What?" She glanced his way. Shit. Did he say that out loud?

"What?" He tries to keep a normal tone, his shading shaky.

"What about these shorts?" She's standing now with her hands on her hip, challenging him. What's wrong with her sleepwear?

"I-" before he could answer though, her phone rings. Her sister was calling all the way from New York, finishing medicine at NYU. Katniss' tone is cheerful when she answered Prim, though her mind lingers in Peeta's soft aggressive whisper. She settled on the bed cross legged.

"Hey! just checking in on you. How's Paris?" Prim's walking while on a video call, and Peeta hears her stride. He abandons his sketchbook and jumps close to Katniss over her shoulder to greet Prim.

"Oh, it's bad, duck. She shits on pain au chocolat. Uncultured and rude. Can you believe that?"

"Shut up! I was only being honest, it's overrated,"

"Honesty is not shitting on food," Woah. He's way too close now. She flusters as she notices the lesser gap. He smells fresh from the shower.

She covers it up with an eyeroll. There.

"I think she just misses your buns, Peeta," They saw Prim wiggle her eyebrows comically in the phone. She rolls her eyes again. God, not Prim too. If Peeta even flushed from the teasing, he doesn't show.

"Where are you off to, anyway?" Katniss steers the conversation, subtly shying away from Peeta.

"I actually have a make-up class in Bio and I'm running late but I wanted to see you for a minute. Paris looks good on you," Prim's video was shaky now from her walk-run.

"Yeah yeah, I'll send you pictures tomorrow morning. Or tonight, or your morning. I don't know," Katniss chuckles.

Peeta loves her most in these moments with her sister. He's always entertained by their sisterly banter and unfiltered bickering. Things far from the physical jokes and pranks from his brothers, like random hard punches on the shoulder or being locked up in the bakery's store room.

"And you finally got your own beds this time! No more cramping in one bed," Prim says, which irritated and startled Katniss enough because ugh, she didn't want to get awkward with Peeta, especially when they already got some tension lingering. She couldn't roll her eyes enough to disperse the growing tension.

"Uh-yeah-finally, Cinna's a bit lavish,"

"Yeah, but that doesn't keep away her snores," Peeta added good naturedly, trying his best not to sound disappointed or whatever.

Because when Cinna decided earlier to welcome the group in his enormous apartment in Paris above his tailoring shop, he became a generous host. Provided them with enough toiletries, towels, full pantry of food, and of course, beds for each of them. Two twin beds per room, and so they divided by couple, leaving Peeta and Katniss staring at the most spacious room they've ever been on their trips.

What if they just move the bedframes together and make one giant fluffy king size mattress?

No, no. That's ridiculous. And stupid. That's like crossing some kind of boundary. So as much as they want to, they remain stubborn and got to unpacking. Besides, they'll only be here for the night. After that they can sleep again together like before in a small Venice hostel tomorrow, right?

"Well, two beds or not, you can always share-"

"Okay goodbye duck, I hope you trip on the sidewalk and fall flatfacewithyourmatchalattespillingalloveryouuu," Katniss taps the end button and tosses her phone on the bed.

"Come on dude, just admit you like sleeping with this," Peeta grabs her hand and press it on her chest, enjoying how she blushes with his and Prim's teasing abilities.

"fuck you, I'll kill you in your sleep," She scowls and pulls her hand away. He's roaring with laughter. She doesn't indulge the fact she likes feeling his broad skin under her palm.

"No seriously, we're used to sleeping side by side. Let's just move the frames... or you can sleep in mine,"

Fuck. Why is he so blunt about this?

"Or I could just sleep with you on this. Ah, so soft," he lays down with his arms cradling his head. He knows she'll be convinced if he tries to play it casually.

Very, very tempting. But Katniss is stubborn, and instead grabs the pillow beneath his head and smack him with it. "Hey!"

"Fuck off my bed Mellark. Go to your own," she directs with little conviction. A little more, just convince me a little more.

He sits up and feigns disappointment, even though he is really disappointed. "I'm serious, let's just sleep together..." He stares her up with those piercing blue eyes.

Tension grows by millimeter with their stare and hitching breaths.

Is he really serious? Is this okay? Why is he so casual about this?

"Just get off my bed, Peeta. It's the first in weeks I can sleep with my head on a real pillow,"

So she's not convinced with casual talk.

A beat.

“Okay fine, just don’t set your alarm so loud,” He stands and reaches for his abandoned sketchbook. She already misses the weight of him on her bed.

“Fine then. Don’t stay up late with the lights on. Opening the window is enough,” she settles on her pillows.

“Fine,”

Blankets rustles on both ends, lamps turn off.

“Goodnight, Peeta…”

“Sweet dreams, Katniss.”

They pretend to not notice the other still not asleep. It was a restless night.

[defire]

Magical pain

Localized to one spot like hands or feet so that if whumpee's doing something whumper doesn't like they can trigger the magic to cause disabling levels of pain

Bonus the more stubborn whumpee is the worse it hurts

Pain that causes permanent disability (hand slowly paralysing, eye slowly blinding, nerve damage)

Does it cause swelling/bruising?

Does it ache/cramp/sting? Other kinds of pain?

Pain triggered by symbology like a rune, a flick of a specific finger (for example a snowflake rune causing cold bone ache and frostbite)

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Thursday

(Goes in the series where Jak got to Spargus via trespassing 😆 takes place after Jak sneaks into the Arena)

Despite the threats of being "grounded until you're thirty-six" (per the advisor in the foundlings' dormitory), no one had taken Jak's gate pass or war amulet. He'd won them on his own, whether or not he met some arbitrary threshold based on bone growth. A lot of Wastelanders on the street talked down to them still, like they were children -- one weird guy with neither hair nor pants kept calling them "anklebiters" and scornfully laughing that the king would never let them leave the city again. But after crashing Sam's second Arena trial, Jak had started hearing approval here and there.

What he couldn't fathom was how often their approval centered around his dark eco form!

That abomination? The walking demonstration of how dark eco was an affront to life?

Easy there, that's Samos talking. If it was wholly evil, the Oracle wouldn't have taught me to make the Dark Form my own, beyond anything Praxis could dream of.

"Useful", they called the horned menace.

Useful, like he'd demonstrated the skills of an electrician or architect or something!

And no one had tried to make him use it, not even once! The most anyone had said so far was "I bet it takes a lot of nerve to learn those moves!", or questions about how much food he had to eat to keep up with the calorie expenditure.

He and Daxter had been tasked with hunting down a local pest called a kangarat that had a bad habit of eating the city's stored grains -- and that had devolved into s tense moment on the beach with some kind of dark eco-probe thing.

Honestly, it was one of the few times when Jak's inability to read modern glyphs came in handy. The script scrolling across the screens had been ancient, even by Sandover standards. But it was close enough to the texts Uncle used to teach him to read that Jak had been able to reroute the power and drain its battery core.

That hadn't done much to make the monk like them.

Seem had a real problem with dark eco, apparently. And oddly, that had felt jarring after everyone else in Spargus.

Seem reminded Jak of Haven.

He didn't want to think about Haven right now.

Eventually someone would probably make him go back. But the war was over, right? It was just skirmishes now, something they'd handled before Jak and could handle without Jak. They'd gotten too used to taking him for granted anyway.

They'd probably be fine.

Right?

Jak shook the darkening thoughts away and made his way out of the Arena complex, shoving a roll into the small pouch that hung from his belt. Meals were scheduled here, and food was readily available, albeit not abundant. But two years and some change of regularly going hungry meant he and Daxter were almost always thinking about food in some way.

Daxter teased that Jak thought about food more than romance. Jak didn't think he was wrong, exactly.

"What do you think, can we make it to the gate without being stopped today?" Jak asked Daxter as he stepped down into the street.

"Only if the Mustachioed Menace isn't there."

Daxter shuddered.

"Jak, promise me if he goes for the fork and knife, you'll skewer him."

"Yeah no, he won't even get that far," Jak promised.

The heat was already in full swing, even at four bells after sunrise. Jak was surprised he'd adapted to it as quickly as he had. The dust? Not so much. He coughed and spat out grit from an errant breeze.

"Told you to pull the scarf up."

"I'd look like Jinx."

"Your vanity or sand in the mouth, up to you, pal."

The general plan had been to make their meandering way back to the beach -- they hadn't seen a clean beach or unpolluted water in years -- but about three minutes into the West Quarter, Jak stopped. A familiar staff was leaned up against a small structure made of stone and conductive metals, but when they glanced around, Damas was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, that's a little weird," Daxter commented.

Jak stepped closer and hunched down to look into the almost hutch-like building. A large, squat, generator sat there on five-inch stilts to keep it out of the sand. A box of tools lay beside it, and a man's lower half stuck out from underneath on a small rolling palette. It almost looked like-

"Uh...Damas?"

Jak wasn't sure the guy liked Jak going around calling him by his first name, but Jak had never been one to allow formalities.

There was a soft clang and a muffled curse. Then the palette rolled out and Damas was there, stained with grease and looking decidedly impatient.

"If it's not urgent, make Kleiver deal with it. I'm busy."

"Yeah, I see that."

Jak crouched to awkwardly waddle into the hut.

"What are you doing?"

Damas raised a brow and gestured silently to the generator as if asking isn't it obvious?

A touch chagrined, Jak waved a hand.

"No, I mean like- what's wrong with it?"

"And how come you're fixin' it?" Daxter added, "Are folks that shorthanded?"

The king simply rolled his eyes and slid back underneath the generator.

"I already told you," he grumbled, "Out here, you're either doing something useful with your life or you're just deadweight. A king sitting sedentary and barking out orders is the epitome of deadweight."

Daxter made an approving sound -- a rarity Damas would later learn to appreciate.

"I can respect it. Not how I'd run things, but not bad! You even got shade in here!"

Jak shrugged Daxter off his shoulder and tapped at the generator casing in interest.

"So what's busted? How big of a problem is it?"

"Well either the blue eco tube is blocked, or the conductors are bad," Damas grunted. "If the eco grid in the Northwest districts goes down, our defenses will be completely out on this side."

"...can I help?"

Damas wheeled back out, looking as though he wasn't sure what he'd heard.

"You what?"

Jak pushed the toolbox closer, making room to lay down and look at the inner workings of the generator.

"I want to help!" he said, "I'm good with eco!"

"Yeah, noticed that."

Damas took a pair of something that looked like forceps and crimped the line in question. He wanted the uncanny boy to just leave. Everything about him felt like he was on the cusp of learning something that could not be un-learned, and would shake the foundations of everything he knew. It made working very distracting. But the offer of aid freely given was never turned down in Spargus. Even if the boy did lead his mind in uncomfortable circles, he was here, and he was eager to help.

With a sigh, Damas gestured vaguely to the tool box.

"Give me the electrical current meter and the wire stripper."

"Got it. Wait, which one's the wire stripper?"

"The pliers that look like they have teeth."

"Oh, there they are."

Jak picked up the wire stripper and handed it over to Damas.

"I don't know a lot about tools yet, sorry. Everyone always makes me destroy things. They think it's all I'm good for. The Oracles are kind of the only ones who don't get mad if I want to fix things instead."

"Geez, kid."

"Yeah, I know. It's not great."

Jak leaned over. "Why do you want the wire stripper?"

Damas pulled down two colorful wires where Jak could see.

"Because," he muttered, "this colorful stuff is insulation. And I need it off if I'm going to test the conductor with this other wire- hey, is the mouthy cacomistle mutant still out there?"

Daxter made an offended gasp, and Damas nodded.

"Good. Tell me if the lights come on."

Damas pulled a black wire and a red wires together and touched the bare ends together.

"Anything?"

"Eehhhhh...." Daxter flopped a hand back and forth. "Lights are on, nobody's home."

"Well, it's not the conductors then. Rot, that means the eco crystallized."

"Crap, really?" Jak scooted closer. "Man, that's a pain to break down."

"Tell me about it."

Damas adjusted the cart and shoved an arm up into the inner workings.

Jak watched, wondering about what he'd said. Was Damas implying that he could channel, too? Well it was about time he met some other channelers! Kor and Praxis couldn't have wiped them all out!

Maybe that's why people here were more open-minded about dark eco. Maybe there were enough channelers around here to use the light eco in the temple that they didn't even worry about getting unbalanced.

"Jak, I need your hand here."

Damas smacked his shoulder with the back of his hand and pointed.

"Hold that, and don't let it fall on me."

"Got it!"

Damas began to unbolt the resevoir frame to get to the eco. "We," he grumbled, "are going to be here a while."

"I'd offer to dissolve it with some dark eco, but I have no idea what that would do to your generator."

"Yeah let's avoid potentially possessed hardware," Damas said, "I'd just as soon skip a repeat of your little adventure on the beach with that...thing."

Jak winced and readjusted his grip on the frame. "...ah. You know about that, huh?"

"I'm the king, kid. I know everything."

It didn't cross his mind until much later that -- in spite of his misgivings -- he'd started treating Jak like any other Spargan. Nor had he considered at the time that he might have been setting a precedent. But when what should have been a simple repair job turned into an impromptu lesson on basic tool function, it seemed that Jak had lost any of the few reservations he had about Damas.

The next two weeks were filled with "what are you doing?" and "where are you going?", "can I come?" "Can I help?"

It was like Mar all over again, but as a skinny teenager!

There would come a day in the near future when Damas would look back on his choice of description with some very colorful swearing about the clarity of hindsight.