#jnd ocs

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Friday

Aka "you've ruined a perfectly good Damas is what you did. Look at him, he's got anxiety"

(For context, I gave Damas a backstory of being last in line for Haven's throne, but also Last Man Standing. This had something to do with Praxis hating "the default king". Long post warning, it's a whole one-shot again)

At some point in his life, the Precursors had decided that Damas was their least favorite Maridius. Any time something went well for him, it had to be immediately balanced by something awful.

He found acceptance and camaraderie that he never had from his elder brothers among the Forward Guard in the war.

And then Menelaus and Nicostratus died stupid, pointless deaths trying to seize glory, leaving Damas the sole focus of his parents' hopes.

He found an escape from the pressures in running the numbers, working out which districts needed food more than soldiers, and which districts needed more protection than most.

And then Father died and Mother shut herself in a convent, no longer interested in anything to do with her disappointing youngest son.

He actually had support from people for focusing on them and not the nest-

And his eldest brother's childhood friend literally stabbed him in the back and left him to die in the desert.

For a time, he'd assumed things would never get better. That the Precursors were tired of reeling him in and out like a fish on the line. But the hook pulled once more and he found himself using the skills he'd learned from the guards who raised him, joining a rebellion against a tyrant and defeating him against the odds.

And then the Precursors let him have ten good years. They let him find love, and family. They let him become a father. And then they ripped it all away in the cruelest way possible.

Damas knew it was foolish to hope that Mar was alive. He knew Phobos had been right to move on from him -- from them -- and throw herself into operating the orphan barracks of the Cliffside district. But he couldn't let go yet.

So he'd endured. Two bitter years he'd endured. And when he found that scrap of a boy in the desert, only to watch him outdo warriors twice his age, he'd thought maybe things were getting better.

Jak was...hard to define. The kid had seen more combat than some of his most experienced scouts. He carried scars on par with the surviving child-soldiers of Atys's reign. And while he shared their distrust of authority in general, he had none of their understanding of ranks and rulers. He just...treated everyone like they were his equal.

And after the kinds of things he must have experienced in his short life, Jak probably had every right to consider himself the equal of any senior Wastelander.

And for a moment, Damas had foolishly let himself hope that the Precursors could leave well enough alone. That they'd just...let him have this-!

Annnnd then Jak had to go and break the one rule. The one law Damas had given him.

Do not compromise the Arena.

Six other candidates had been doing their third trial against the Leucas Freebooters in that Arena. Six other candidates whose results had to be thrown out, who had to wait for full citizenship, because Jak refused to fight, and Sig had decided to waltz into a trial without checking to see what the purpose of the trial was!

Damas was either going to lose his mind, or go fully rogue and declare war on the Precursors. He couldn't discount either option yet.

Deep breaths, Damas. Deep breaths.

Jak knew not to mess with the purity of the Arena. He knew that, didn't he? He couldn't have gotten this far without understanding how important it was to keep the trial balanced for all candidates! He had to have known the consequences for not only compromising the others' trials and putting them at risk of the Freebooters getting the upper hand on them, but open mutiny-!

He wanted to shake sense into the boy. Maybe smack him upside the head and hope it jarred his common sense loose. But he wasn't likely to get that chance.

Even if Sig had caused this, he had all three amulets. Jak only had two. Those two protected him from a lot, but not public mutiny. A challenge in private Damas could have handled.

He knew Jak -- he thought he knew Jak -- enough to make him understand whatever instruction or decision he had a problem with. He knew how to phrase things to make it sound like all Jak had done was ask for clarification.

He couldn't cover this one up. Not with this many witnesses.

Damas knew the name of the creature thrashing beneath his ribs. Terror.

It clawed at his lungs, coiled around them until he couldn't breathe. Kicked at his heart until he felt every beat like a hammer.

I can't lose him too. I won't lose him too!

He didn't know when, exactly, things had changed between them. Was it before he'd admitted that he'd never had a father to teach him- well, anything? Was it before his second trial, when Phobos had pointedly compared the boy to her own students? Was it her less than subtle hinting that he find his closure in helping the boy he'd dragged out of the mouth of death?

Did it even matter?

You've taken enough from me! You can't have him, too!

It was depressingly easy to mask fear with anger. He had been doing it all his life.

In hindsight, so had Jak.

Damas wondered later if that was why the boy didn't seem afraid. He glared at Damas the whole time, but in those eyes was a challenge: I see through you. You don't fool me.

Damas hoped no one else saw through him.

"What have you done?" he demanded, slamming the butt of his staff onto the stone with a ringing clang.

"One of those Freebooters could have shot you in the head -- shot your comrades -- because you threw down your gun! You placed yourself and them in danger!"

I stopped the trial because of you! Do you not grasp how serious this is?!

"Freebooters?!" Sig exclaimed in surprise before cutting himself off.

"And you, you're a veteran of the Arena! You have no excuse for this!" Damas snarled.

He knew he was going to have to set a punishment. If he didn't, the legislative council would. And he knew which of the two offenders they would favor.

"I shouldn't have to tell you the penalty for sabotaging citizenship trials!"

Sig risked a glance at Jak, then set his jaw.

"You're right," he said in a voice as artificially calm as Damas’s was artificially angry. "I don't have an excuse. I take full responsibility. Don't put this on Jak. He didn't know I'd be there."

Interesting. Sig was trying to protect Jak.

But in doing so, he was trying to force Damas into an impossible decision. One that would haunt him the rest of his life if he carried out the known sentence. After everything Sig had done for him, exile felt like blasphemy.

Damas clearly wasn't the only Spargan who thought so.

"Sire, think about this!" One of the Arena guards set foot on the pathway as if he intended to join the offenders.

"It can't end this way, it can't! Sig is one of us!"

One of his comrades, emboldened by his courage, joined him.

"He just came home from assignment!"

"Stop," Sig warned them, but was ignored.

"Lord Damas, Sig’s served faithfully as your spy in Haven two years! Surely it's not that surprising that he might forget to check a roster!"

"Char is right!" The first guard cried, "It's the newcomer who deserves no mercy!"

You'd better shut your mouth-

Damas knew they were just standing up for a fellow Spargan. He knew that if Jak had all three amulets, they'd be rallying on his behalf, too. But it rankled to see them turn on the boy so quickly.

"Sire, if anyone must be cast into the desert, it's him!" Rikard pointed a shaking finger at Jak.

The words were out before Damas had time to plan his next move.

"Absolutely not! I'm not letting him off that easy!"

Oh rot. He had to follow that up with something.

Think, Damas! Use your shiny, spiny, head for once and think like Obed taught you!

He thought of the old captain of the Krimzon Guard -- when that had meant something, when only the king’s honor guard wore those tattoos -- the man who had raised him when his own family hadn't been interested in such a weak channeler.

There's always another way, whelp."

Then you tell me, Obed! I don't know what to do!

He reached for that memory desperately.

*Sometimes, you face your enemy head-on. And sometimes, you wait until you see a weakness. A loophole."

"You're talking about my brothers again."

"Now, did I say that? Clean the gunpowder out of your ears, whelp, before you get me in trouble!"

A loophole. I can do that. I can still save them-!

Damas sucked in a calming breath through his teeth.

"You do make a point about Sig’s record of service. I would not be king if I did not try to keep you all alive."

Let this work, please, Obed, if you're still watching over me, let this work.

"This once, I will give you the opportunity to salvage this. In your absence, metalpedes have settled in Turquoise Canyon and begun harassing our artificact carriers."

He leaned on his staff and hoped no one saw the tension in his jaw for what it really was: fear.

"I want you to drive into the heart of the nest and take out anything that moves."

He turned on his heel to send a hard stare Jak's way.

"Unlike Sig, you get a choice right now: stay here and forfeit your second amulet, or go with Sig and repay the damage you did today with something that benefits your community."

He prayed Jak could hear the emptiness of his threat. That he would know what Damas needed him to do.

Jak was not technology-friendly. Anything that required precision or aiming was more likely to be used as a blunt force weapon. But put him on a turret gun and the boy was a prodigy. If he went with Sig, the odds of them both surviving skyrocketed.

Jak's glare melted into something uncertain, even a little fearful. He was weighing his options. Good. That would sell the act more to the guards -- who were, like all watchmen, incurable gossips.

Damas saw the moment the light clicked on for Jak. He knew that glint.

Jak nudged Daxter, almost too quickly to be seen, and Daxter nodded. To anyone else, it would seem he was responding to Jak.

Damas knew that Daxter was answering him on Jak’s behalf.

Message received.

"I'm not gonna let you send Sig in there alone."

Damas almost smiled. Defiant to the last. Never change, Jak. Unless it's to learn some common sense-!

"Then perhaps something good can come of this debacle. But understand this, boy: coming back from destroying that nest does not mean this discussion is over. I expect you to turn over your gate pass when you return. You're off scouting for three weeks."

"You're grounding us?!" Daxter shrieked.

"Keep talking, I'll make it a full month."

That one wasn't an empty threat. If he'd thought it would keep Jak out of harm's way, he'd keep him off missions indefinitely!

"We're going," Sig said quickly, and grabbed Jak by the arm before he could protest.

"I'd say good luck," Damas said dryly, "But then, luck won't help you."

which is why I'm sending Jak.

The second the elevator was out of sight, Damas dropped into his throne with the most long-suffering, exasperated groan he'd ever made.

"Someone tell me this is a dream and I'm actually dying of boredom in a financial meeting right now," he said sarcastically.

When no such reassurance arrived from the guards, he dropped his head into his hands with another irritated sound.

In the silence that followed, even over the water wheel they both heard him mutter,

"What am I going to do with that boy?"

Rikard was...not a bad guard. He did his job, and he stuck by his comrades. But he had a big mouth sometimes.

"You...favor the newcomer then? Is it his age?"

Damas aimed a tired glare at him over his fingers.

"Boy, if I told you some of the things I did at his age...."

He groaned again.

"This is boundary-testing. I've seen worse. Rot, I've been worse!"

Silence enveloped them again as the two guards stared at Damas, and Damas stared back. He hadn't meant it to come out like that. After several seconds of owlish blinking back and forth, he said simply,

"Crap. I think I adopted him."

Char turned her head quickly to hide the fact that she was trying very hard not to laugh at the king’s slightly stunned expression.

"Do you...think this will be an adequate lesson?"

Rikard winced. At least he knew he was questioning Damas’s choices in parenting. Er, ruling.

"The nest? Perhaps. It's the confinement that's going to get him." Damas snorted. "You know how Wastelanders are about adrenaline. You ground a kid like that? End of the world."

Mar was exactly the same. Gods, if he's as stubborn as Jak at that age, I'm done for. Might as well write the epitaph now: "died of a heart-attack from idiot sons doing idiot stunts".

"As long as he doesn't set anything on fire in the Arena, sounds good to me," said Char, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Are we clear to return to our posts?"

"Can't set things on fire if I don't let him get two yards away from me, right?" Damas grumbled, but he waved a hand in dismissal.

Once alone, Damas dragged his fingers down his face and muffled a scream in his palm. He was going to get Sig for this. Babysitting. Indefinitely. Or maybe make him handle Arena trials for a while, let him feel that stress! And Jak? Jak was grounded. So, so very grounded. If he had to make Jak sit through meetings with him in the throne room to get it through his head, then so be it. No stunts, no racing, no "the Precursors made me do it" nonsense.

Briefly, he glanced up at the statue of the Oracle in his throne room. Gaudy thing, but it did house a lot of parts of the water wheel.

Damas flipped it off.

[controlled-spontaneity]

obligatory valentunes oc ask, with a bit of a twist! for any OC you might want to talk about, note their closest relationships (romantic, platonic, familial, whatever) and assign each a number. roll a dice (any dice will do; the mighty dice app or an online randomizer if this is easier!). whatever result you get, share something about that OC's relationship with the other character that you might not have gotten to talk about yet! doesn't have to be about valentines specifically, just. anything about their relationship, how they interact, their dynamic--whatever you like to share when it comes to a valuable person in their life.

(i.e. for cassia, i might write 1-oliver, 2-esme, 3-don, 4-leo, 5-mikey, 6-raph, and roll a 6 sided dice. i roll a 6, so i share something about cassia and raph's relationship!)

OOOOOO this sounds interesting!

Let's do another Jak & Daxter oc!

Henrika

And the array of people that end up being closest to her.

(1 - herself, obligatory free space) 2 - Keket, 3 - Rohel, 4 - Giada, 5 - Zell, 6 - Timka

Roll of the dice says .... 4

Giada!

Henrika met Giada in Spargus, a couple months after escaping Haven City. Giada is a native born Spargan. She is also a bit of an archeologist, spending more time in the tunnels unerneath the desert and out in the wasteland than in the city.

Giada is everything Henrika is not: loud, bubbly, curious, & unafraid of the future. They both got along amicably at first, until Henrika overheard Giada telling Rohel aboit some old Precurian carvings she deciphered. The phrase was the exact same as something on a statue in Henrika's home citu of Tannebau far, far North.

After that, Giada shows Henrika more of her research and the two of them spend time translating and transposing other Precursian relics.

---

Drop a # in my ask box if you want to know about some of the others!

[fundeadasylum]

A long time ago, in the early 2000s, I wrote Jak and Daxter fan fiction and it was full of OCs. That fic is now lost to time (deleted from ff.net and the computer it was on is long gone), but I still remember most of the OCs and have really old drawings of them. So I have given them new life and made them better and less cringe lol

I doubt I'll do anything else with them, but it was a fun exercise to remake them and I love the results.

also love that i can still draw an ottsel from memory

[elise-the-blind]

So I’ve seen some artists show their idea of the next generation of Jak and Daxter aka the future kids Jak and his friends might have. Have you ever had thought about or drawn Jak and Keira kid and Tess x Dax kid?

ok, imma gonna have to admit something since this isn't the first times I've been asked this, but I actually have never made or had much interest in making fankids. I honestly dont know why I lack this brain chemical, with the amount of headcannons I come up with this should be right up my alley, but no.

But whatever, I'll think up as much as I can for this, just know that for my AU, its very unlikely these characters will be a part of any of it.

Damascus (son of Jak and Keira)

Named after Damas (because I think its funny). Grew up copying his dads constant scowl, but has never had an angry thought in his life. Took up his mums love of gadgets, focusing on precursor tech and will sneak around the monk temple for info (the monks are aware of this but dont mind, alittle confused on why he insists on sneaking in). Even though not mute he's still the least likely to speak out of all four. Was told a story about lurker sharks (probably told by Daxter) and now has a fear of the ocean.

Jak is very, VERY careful with what stories he tells his son and what lessons he might take from them and gives evil eyes to anyone who tries suggesting Damascus does the same hero stuff Jak did as a kid. Bro knows how badly all of that can go and does not want any of that for his son. A result of that is Damascus doesn't have a lot of experience with eco, only what he knows from Keira's family (green eco for first aid). He's only heard about light eco from the monks and he DEFINITELY doesn't know nadda about using dark eco. Damascus has only rarely seen the dark Jak, and always when he's in danger, so thinks of it just as "man my dad is so cool he can kick the butt of anyone that messes with me".

Has any of Jak's dark eco been passed on to Damascus? Something to ponder, I'm sure it wont affect him too badly.

The Triplets (Tess and Daxter's kids)

Cally (bow), Cash (piercings), Cade (gloves): They're the offspring of a sarcastic ego-filled furball and a gun manic bossbitch, you think any of them would be normal? no. All three are all different levels of shitshow, and are determined to make that everyone else's problem.

Cade is the honorary 'nerd' of the family, fixated on studying precursors and the worlds inner workings. Had an existential crisis at age 6 after thinking about whether or not they had any sort of human DNA from both their parents not being born an ottsel. He always follows Damascus around when he's snooping, making their own sworn oath of secrecy. Cade will sometimes ask his dad about dark eco which all of the time loops to "shit stings, stay out of it son." Once asked uncle Jak, got shut down real fast (bro you're giving your uncle Gol and Maia flashbacks pls stop he's too old for this).

Cash took the love of demolition from Tess and spends alot of time hanging around uncle Torn and aunt Ashelin learning about military mechanics and tactics used by the guard. She gets super hyped when hearing battle stories and sometimes pesters Damascus about anything his pa might have told him about metalheads. Because of the closeness Cash has with the leaders of Haven, she's one of the only kids that know in more detail about Jak's dark side and see's her uncle as a much more intimidating figure. She doesn't plan on telling Cade any of that despite his studies, she's alittle worried he'll get himself into trouble.

Cally got all the showboat center stage child energy from her dad, serving as the distraction for when the trio are doing crimes. Cally acts alot like 'Precursor Legacy' Daxter, always talking, always going for everyone's attention. Alot of that's an act of course, and Cally is often stuck running around making sure her siblings aren't caught in any mess or that the blame of any damage is shifted from them to someone else/her. Cally makes sure to involve Damascus in the chaos the three get into occasionally, even if he doesn't act interested. She once tired racing with Keira for the sake of fame, and while racing was dropped because of a fear of crashing, Cally is very skilled with vehicles and can speed across the city if she ever needs to get anywhere. She knows all secret paths in Haven and Spargus, if you're a target you will never get away, she will catch you.

Everyone takes part in keeping an eye on all of them (especially the triplets) but Sig makes sure that Damascus gets home safe each night, wouldn't want the past to repeat itself would we.

Pretty sure that's all I got. Maybe I'll do more with these guys if there's enough interest. Otherwise I'm back to comic stuff.

[tiffanyelectricity]

Calm Sandover Afternoon

I JUST REVENGE ATTACKED Creepylittlepsycho 's Jak and Daxter Fan Character Aden!

[ccattre]

I don't really have a JnD Oc but I would still love to see her drawn in JnD style if you please

My attempt at Jak and Daxteraffying them. I tried to semi combine both designs because the Jnd characters rarely change outfits, I would imagine a racing outfit more like the second happening in Jak X or something tho!

Also request are currently closed for anyone wondering, I just take forever.

[sketcher20]

Jak’s mother

—————————

this is just exploitation of what Jak’s mom would look like. On one hand, I thought about if she would be either a monk or a warrior or a metal head slayer. I do like the idea if she was a monk, I imagine she would be mysterious if she was. I’ll explore more of her when I can.

[gololol]

So this is Malise! My Jak OC who is a dark sage! Though unfortunately she's going to find her idol in the literal garbage.

[woelfin-sheeps-clothing]

Yes I have deadlines to be catching up on Phoenix is going as Flynn Rider for Halloween. What do you suppose Jak and Daxter would go as? Jak I can see pulling off Cloud Strife. 🤔

[troblsomtwins829]

[thegoddesswater]

How you can tell I'm supposed to be working on something else? My brain wants to finish one of my drawings.

This damn child has bopped around in my head for 19 years and I've finally managed not to make him look like a horrid little goblin in a drawing.

Calling Karn done. Before I decide to add something else -- like another doofy, little sea monster -- in the background.

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Thursday

Per the poll, we're going with "half of Spargus casually parents the boys and Jak doesn't know what to do with that"

Some context: this is set within a half-WIP where I was exploring ways to interpret Ashelin's manipulative little "or did the hero I know die in the desert?"

In this universe, Jak was technically clinically dead for almost 90 seconds because heatstroke is no joke and adding eco imbalance probably makes it worse. He was resuscitated inside the city walls, so the Wastelanders shrug and invoke a law as old as the city: "a "corpse" just took his first breath in our city, that makes him one of us by birth." And then he and Daxter got sent to live in the Arena barracks wing meant for younger Wastelanders (he's not loving it)

Jak was in a bad mood. He'd been up most of the night, dealing with flashbacks, and he was tired. He hadn't finished any of the work he'd been handed so far, and he was supposed to report to Damas in two hours for gods only knew what reason. In the three-odd weeks he and Daxter had been here, he'd spoken to the man all of twice. What had he done? They hadn't even let him go past the gate!

"Jak, you done with the-"

"No," Jak snapped. Immediately, he felt a little bad. Running a hand over his hair he sighed. "...sorry, Daxter."

Daxter narrowed his eyes. "You need a nap."

Jak looked away. It wasn't like he didn't know that. He bit down on a sharp retort.

He hated not finishing a task. It made him feel useless. Like a failure. But he was having so much trouble just. Focusing!

Sitting and tying nets back together was as repetitive as scrubbing the floors back in Sandover -- or the prison, occasionally, when the Baron was coming and the guards had to pretend they actually took care of the facility sometimes. It let Jak's mind wander. In the prison, that was a welcome escape. But after his escape, he didn't like letting his thoughts loose. They tipped into bad memories too often, and trying to remember the good ones was hard.

Right now, all Jak could really think about was the nightmare the morning dorm headcount had woken him from.

The image of Samos glaring down at him, hand on the controls of the Chair, was going to haunt him for a while.

The crews of the Looper, Half-Shark, and Black Eel moved along the beach, monitoring the kids from Dorm Five who had been assigned to help them. They were mostly in their late teens, like Jak, but there were a few unusually small ones -- a thirteen year old, a twelve year old boy and his eight year old brother -- given that they had nowhere else to go. There was a reason the other dorms called Five the Orphanage when they thought the matron couldn't hear them.

Most of the other ten kids were already done, or close to done. And Jak couldn't even do something he used to do all the time as a little kid.

"Y'alright there, sprout?" asked a gruff voice.

The captain of the Half-Shark stopped at the end of the pier with his hands on his hips. When Jak scowled and tangled his fingers in the cords, he made a knowing sound.

"One of those days, huh?"

"What days?" Jak growled.

The grizzled man winked and tapped a finger to his nose.

"Got a visit from the night hag, didn't ya? I won't tell. All sorts of dreams'll put shadows like that under a man's eyes in the night. You can take a break if you need."

"I'm fine."

Jak wove another two rows and knotted them in place. Silently, he willed the man to just go away. The last thing he needed was for any of the others to notice that he wasn't pulling his weight.

He'd never been around this many young people in his life. Ten was bad enough, but there were some hundred or more teenagers all told rotating through the barracks. The noise, the way they all knew each other already, it locked Jak's voice down eight times out of ten. They all stressed him out too much to even consider conversation.

Daxter claimed that he had two rivals and an archnemesis already. Jak didn't want to talk to any of them.

They were normal. Most of them had never been forced labor for a sage or a gangster or a resistance. They'd never been imprisoned, or tortured, or consistently told that if they weren't carrying everyone's burdens, they were worthless.

The only ones who had remotely similar experiences were the three who were rumored to have escaped Marauder slave camps. They didn't speak to anyone but each other, but as soon as he'd arrived they'd seemed to recognize the shadows hanging over Jak. During allotted mealtimes or when they were thrown out into the common area during the chaotically unstructured "free time", the two girls and the younger kid had started sitting silently with their backs to him: keeping watch so he and Daxter could eat. And Jak was not about to ask them what they'd gone through after that kindness.

Matron Pax reassigned Jak from room four to room eight within the week, putting him next door to the pale trio. All the "quiet kids" went on the same end of the hall. He appreciated that the woman paid attention to her charges' personalities, but he could've done without some of her rules.

"It ain't gonna do you no good to run yourself into the ground, son," the captain remarked. He folded his arms. "What's your hurry, anyhow? Ain't like you've got to earn amulets yet."

Jak looked up with incredulous annoyance.

"Yeah we do? We're "newcomers", remember?"

Daxter grimaced. "We don't even know how to drive!"

Captain Oaken raised his hairy eyebrows in surprise. Then understanding settled in.

"Ah don't mind them younger warriors. They're just bein' snots because they gotta earn their citizenship, while you're a born citizen."

Jak recoiled. "I think you've been out in the sun too long. I wasn't born here."

"We think," Daxter added helpfully, "We dunno where they snatched you from. Samos is a lying liar who lies, remember?"

Jak elbowed him and shook his head.

"Your king dragged us here half-dead."

"A good ways more dead than just half, remember?" Oaken corrected.

Suddenly, the midmorning sun felt cold. Slowly, he set the net down and stood up to look the captain in the eyes.

"What?"

"They didn't tell you?"

The captain sounded surprised. He scratched his nose and glanced back at the other teenagers. None of the others were close enough to overhear. Oaken lowered his voice anyway.

"Boy, you was dead dead a quarter of a minute before they got you in the gate. No pulse, not breathing. There was gawkers all over the place while his lordship got your pulse going again. Word got around."

Jak felt sick. Dead? He couldn't have been dead! He wasn't sure if fifteen seconds even counted. His brain would've still been active, right? His brain was still active, and he didn't remember any hypoxia.

Of course, he didn't remember much of anything else, either.

Technicality. It was only a technicality.

Calm down. Calm down, you didn't actually die. He's a fisherman. They tell tall tales. Probably thinks that's supposed to impress me.

"You alright, boy?" Oaken gestured to the pier. "Maybe you oughta sit, huh? You're looking pale."

When Jak only stared at him blankly, he patted the boy's shoulder gingerly.

"Don't let it get to you, eh? They brought you back, and it was inside the city walls. That's the part that matters."

Insane. These people were insane.

But...

If it meant he didn't have to fight to be allowed to stay, if it meant he maybe, hopefully, might actually have rights, maybe he could ignore some of the bizarre tendencies of this city that had...rescued? Captured? Conscripted them?

He never did finish the net. He was completely distracted for the remainder of the morning, wrestling with the implications. Eventually, the warrior on rotation as Dorm Five's resident advisor just excused him to report to the tower.

"What?! He's not even done!"

Luka glared at Jak and Daxter.

"Why does he get to leave early?"

The RA rolled his eyes at Luka.

"Because he got summoned. You could've left by now if you weren't goofing around with the fishhooks instead of cleaning the traps."

Luka sulked, but didn't say anything more about it. Jak fully expected the burly teenager to say something snide about it later that he'd probably have to smack him for. Luka, as he had been assured by the little kid, Koda, didn't like new people in the "orphan hall", and always gave newcomers a hard time. So what else was new.

"Ooooo, he's in trouble," one of the girls snorted in a sing-song voice.

Why were teenagers in Spargus so...childish?

____________________________________

Jak ignored them all. He had to follow a map to get to the citadel, avoiding people as much as possible. He tended to stay away from people anyway, but today especially he just wasn't in the mood for hu'men interaction. The one plus side of getting called up to talk to -- or be talked at by -- the king of this place was that it would probably be quiet.

Anything his dorm...neighbors...or whatever they were...said had to be taken with a heavy grain of salt. But Daxter had heard that the king didn't like more than a few people in a room with him at a time. Either he was paranoid about getting ganged up on, or he just didn't tolerate loitering like Torn.

"Hey, hold up!"

Oh now what?

Jak turned slightly to find a woman with a gunstaff approaching quickly. He tensed, ready for a fight, but she had a fairly casual expression.

In three steps she'd reached them, all while patting her pockets for something.

"Geez, I know the Youth Barracks had a population boom, but you'd think Pax would notice the naked kid."

"Excuse me?!" Jak sputtered, leaning away from her.

With an exclamation of triumph, the warrior produced a somewhat grease-stained rag. Without so much as a by-your-leave, she plucked the cap and goggles from Daxter's head and wrapped the rag around his brow and the back of his neck, just like Jak's scarf. When she deemed the result satisfactory, the warrior slapped the goggles back on him.

"Okay, carry on."

Both boys stared at her.

"What was that?!" Daxter squawked, "Did you just put a grease rag on my head?!"

"Didn't have a handkerchief." The warrior shrugged. "Listen, pipsqueaks, Foothills clan learned a long time ago: fur don't save you from sunburn. You'll thank me later."

Jak exchanged a glance with Daxter. It was true that Daxter's skin had been extra sensitive lately. They'd just assumed it was the heat and sweating. Neither had considered that he could get sunburned.

A little chagrined, Jak looked up at the woman and muttered a quick thanks. He waited, assuming she wanted something in trade. Everyone seemed to barter here, rather than pay in paper orbs.

"Alright, scram," the lady said, waving them off nonchalantly. "You look like you got chores or something. Don't ever say Mel didn't do nothin' for ya, huh?"

Jak didn't speak for the next two turns in the neighborhood. Daxter was more than happy to fill the silence for him.

"Is this what it's like bein' you?" the ottsel asked, hanging over his shoulder, "The eyes all the time? Peeps just comin' up and decidin' stuff about ya? Not that I blame em for lookin, but it does start to wig an ottsel out."

He'd once assumed that being the center of attention was all he really wanted. Even negative attention was still attention, and Daxter had learned every way to provoke people, just so they would have to acknowledge his existence. But now he wondered if there was such a thing as too much of a good thing. Because if he and Jak got into trouble, Jak wasn't the one getting all the consequences anymore. They didn't just tack Daxter on as an accompanying afterthought to "help", no, it was much worse. Matron Pax had proved adept at finding ottsel-sized chores to make him do!

On the one hand, he was being acknowledged as his own person, being nagged at to eat at the same time as everyone else, to stay in his room after lights-out, to go to school (or what passed for school here).

But on the other hand, he couldn't get away with rot anymore!

"I never know what these people want," Jak grumbled as the tower finally came into view. "Are we here to work, or are we being patronized? They're watching us, Dax. I know we're being monitored. There's no way people would randomly stop a stranger to make him fix his scarf."

"Or scold us for carrying three ammo crates at once," Daxter added.

"Or drag us off the street at noon to make us sort beads until noon rest was over," Jak agreed. "Nobody just...does that for strangers. Especially not a city where you're either useful or deadweight."

One more person tried to stop them when they got to the tower. Jak actually remembered this guy's name. Watchman Chayne guarded the elevator up to the throne room. He was a pretty easygoing guy, compared to most Wastelanders. Jak didn't mind him so much.

"Hold it," Chayne signed, raising a brow, "What are you two up to?"

"I dunno, ask Damas," Jak retorted.

"Whatever it was, we didn't do it!" Daxter added quickly, "And I have character witnesses!"

Chayne let out a soft, hissing laugh and waved them into the elevator.

"Oh, your turn for newbie check-in, huh? Just don't mouth off and you'll be fine."

"Define mouthing off," Daxter said, steepling his fingers.

Chayne blinked at him slowly, then looked at Jak, then at Daxter again.

"Godspeed, kid."

Great.

[twistedvines]

Heya! I'm really struggling right now, so I'm opening some emergency commissions for the time being.

I'm doing Headshots / Busts for $15 USD per piece

And Transparent fullbodies for 25$ USD per piece

Please contact me at my email kylelucassmith.artwork@gmail.com

at my discord twistedvines

or DM me directly through my Tumblr

Please take a look at my TOS before commissioning me as well ^^

If you're feeling generous you're able to donate to me at my Ko-Fi https://ko-fi.com/commander_carrot/donate

[lexisketchart]

POV they’re judging you

[elise-the-blind]

Do you think Jak and Keira moms would have gotten along with each other or approved of their kids relationship/ marriage?

Its fine. He's fine

I like to think both mums would get along well enough. A "black cat and golden retriever" type dynamic, at least with the versions I've drawn.

Jak's ma is alot more hype about the couple, super supportive and happy for her boy

Keira's mother goes full scary momma bear mode, but its just an act. Maybe not at first.

[cinnamontoasttrash]

Big art dump warning

I used to be OBSESSED with Jak and Daxter when I was younger, and now that I'm replaying the games, I wanted to revamp one of, if not my first, ocs!!

Her name is Vixen, and her whole thing was, when I first made her, she was part Lurker (and I never elaborated as to why) and she was super cool and blah blah blah

Now that I have compression skills and can execute stuff a little better, the reason she's like that was experimentation! Maybe I'll get more into it if anyone is interested, but yeah, that's the basic rundown

Little me was ahead of her time when it came to concepting, but not when it came to making a story