From the Rocky Bits to Down Below, Sunday Afternoon

Entry tags:

@rocky bits,
jak

From the Rocky Bits to Down Below, Sunday Afternoon

Okay, so yesterday hadn't really worked out as planned, but Jak was still intent on getting away from Samos, and getting to do as much fun stuff with Dax as he possibly could. Exploring the island had been the next bullet point on his list, and what would be a better place to start than the Rocky Bits...?

Jak's hand shot up and snagged a rock, pulling himself up. They were at about medium level now, nearing the top. Awesome. He grinned, and reached up again.

"I hope you know," Daxter said, about as imperiously as he possibly could while clinging to Jak's shoulder-plate for dear life," that you're going to get us both killed, here.

He would! Just watch! Daxter was certain about these things! Because, you know, he actually knew Jak. There was a track record for this kind of stuff.

People back home needed to have more confidence in Jak. He'd stayed alive so far, hadn't he? And nobody in Fandom ever complained! ... Well, except Jono, but that had been an accident.

Jak shook his head with some mirth - just trust him, Daxter! - and pushed off on some rock to get him up even higher. Seriously. End so in sight. This was awesome.

And that was the sort of response that made little orange Ottsels roll their eyes and shake their heads and click their tongues and hang on even more tightly.

"And me without a parachute," Dax grumped. "At least we're almost to the top already."

Exactly. Positive thinking, Dax. It made the world go 'round.

Two more rocks. One more...

And finally, one white-clad hand triumphantly touched on the top of the Rocky... Bit. He grinned again (you could hear the triumphant music, man. Ta-daaa!) and pulled himself up. Score. Now if they just went for the next part of this--

Jak blinked, as that final push got him face to face with something tiny, green, and full of teeth. Um.

The shriek from Daxter as the aforementioned tiny green thing chomped onto his arm actually had a really, really nice echo to it through the rocky bits, like that.

Jak was lucky he'd instinctively pushed himself upright and on top in that moment, because Dax's shrieking meant only one thing: these hands were going over these ears!

The tiny green thing let go, fell to the previous layer of rocks with a satisfied noise, and scampered off.

... The unfortunate thing was, with a grunt and a snarl and a twirl in a circle, Dax was now well on his way, as well.

"HUGHPLEEEH!"

... Jak stared down at him. Daxter? Daxter?

... With one quick jump, he was down there, running after the crazy rat.

[[ for the crazy gremlin-bit rat, and whoever might be wandering near the rocky bits... ]]

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Look, the Daxmanian Devil totally appreciated what Jak was trying to do, here, but he was hungry. And it was a well-known fact that all of the delicious chewy things didn't really hang out on the rocks.

Well, except for that bug there, which he chowed down on with a loud, obnoxious crunching sound, while still spinning, before following that up with a stone.

"MmmMMmmmmm. ROCK." And then, with another 'BLEARRRGH' and a very important farting sound made with his tongue, he was off again. There was a whole island to be terrorized, here.

Oh, come on, Dax!

If Daxter really appreciated what Jak was doing, he'd be sitting nice and still so Jak could cart him off to Samos and see how to stop whatever impossible transformation he'd accidentally foisted on his best friend this time.

Instead, Jak bounced off a rock. ... Oh, that was just not good breakfast food. Dax! More rocks, jump, jump, jump, and he was getting there, seriously. Lunging, even! ... Rocks made it hard to chase people, but come on, he'd caught that muse, he could catch Daxter.

Oh, Dax-who-was-Taz was not going to have any of that, no, sir! Not when he could spin in a few more circles, wave his arms in the air in the most vicious manner possible, and then make a beeline... Back the way he had come.

Taz feared no cliffs! And there was a little green thing there, whose expression had been one of mirth right up until the about-face, who happened to look delicious. The green thing was suddenly looking decidedly pale, now.

Taz, after all, was also full of teeth!

"GREAAAGHPLEH!"

There was absolutely no way that green thing was going to fit down Dax's throat, so it was up to Jak to save him from himself. At least, that was the general idea. How he was going to manage that? Nobody knew!

He could really go for some blue eco vents here right now, we're just saying.

Jak turned suddenly, nearly wrangling his ankle into an odd angle, then pushed back off. Jumped once, then jumped again in the air, landing about a rock away. Time for another lunge! Involving a push-off and hurling thing that might well be like a diagonal football tackle!

Well, Taz certainly hadn't seen that one coming. Typically, living creatures were too busy fleeing from him in absolute terror to try a move like that!

And so, with a sputter and a flail and another "graaaaaaagh" of extreme displeasure, the Tasmanian Daxter was going to do that which he did the best.

He was going to attempt to gnaw viciously on Jak's head.

Hey! Daxter! Come on!

Jak was lucky Daxter didn't actually have a Tazmanian Devil-sized jaw, or this might have been very painful rather than just uncomfortable. He slapped at Dax as he came looming in, then slapped at Dax again as... well, okay, maybe that first slap wasn't good enough to prevent anyone from attaching.

Oh, there were omnomnom sounds. And loud, unappetizing slurps.

And there was drool. An epic amount of drool.

"Head gooooooood," Taz decided in a slur of mouth-is-full words, more or less ignoring the slapping. He was Taz. It was going to take more than that to dislodge him from his delicious prey!

Oh, dammit, Dax! He didn't want to have to strangle you!

Instead, Jak was going to have to grab Dax by his itty bitty shoulders and try to shove him back. Away! Come on!

Well, since his meal plans were thwarted, Taz had really only one option, here. He would have to throw a tantrum. A slobbery, raging sort of tantrum that involved stomping his feet on the ground in pure raaaage before he began to spin again.

And maybe he'd eat another bug. The bug totally had it coming to him.

Which way was town? There were locals who needed to be terrorized, here.

None of that either! None of that either! Come on!

With a sigh, Jak found himself hurling himself at Dax. Again. Where was a convenient cave if you needed it? There were lots of rocks! There had to be a cave!

He was giving serious thought to using his vocal chords for this one.

What resulted, of course, was a tumble of arms and legs, tail and ears and fur and drool and loud, angry exclamations of "Blearrrgh!"

And possibly some more attempted gnawing, this time on Jak's arm, in a manner that was more becoming of a dog savaging a bone.

OW. Jak's arm started flailing around in an attempt to get him loose. Ow! Okay. Cave! Cave cave cave--

There was kind of a rock outcropping over there! He could toss Dax at it and... wall him in until sanity set in?

Flailing in that direction commencing in 3... 2... 1...

And then, the Tasmanian Daxter was saaaaailing through the air with the greatest of ease!

... Which was something that neither Daxters nor Tasmanian Devils were really made for, no. Which possibly explained the very perplexed expression on his face just before he went bumping up against the rock wall.

The rock wall which he was promptly going to start gnawing on, because it had the nerve to be in his way.

Mission accomplished!

... Well, in as much that Dax wasn't running anywhere or gnawing on Jak, which he thought of as a pretty big accomplishment, really. Now... to turn him back... um.

Where was Samos if you needed him? Jak padded towards the rock wall, scratching the back of his head all the while.

Well, the gnawing didn't seem to be working. Which was shocking still, considering Taz's jowls of steel and rage, and all.

And so he was going to give the wall a few more snarly bites, and then he was going to attempt to go all tornado on it. It was a tornado that turned forests to desert, deserts to forests, mountains to sand, and made sand run away screaming!

Apparently, it was a tornado that also meant, after a good many more pirouettes and a bit more throwing himself bodily into the wall, that Daxter was going to fall over backwards, staring up at the sky.

"I see more seagulls, Jak..." Staring up at the sky, and swatting at the air above his face. That there, that was one very dizzy Ottsel.

That sounded more like Dax! Which was a good thing. Meant less of a hassle, and, uh, okay, Jak had been standing there, nonplussed, watching him bash his own head in on a rock wall for a minute or so. It was kinda... special.

He leaaaned over Dax, waving at him. No seagulls here. Hey. Don't do that again, right? Good. As long as they were agreed...

Jak could pluck him up by the back of the next and hoist him up high, and deposit him back on his shoulder where he belonged. This taking into account the hope that Dax wasn't going to hurl all over his bare feet.

Well, if he did hurl- and he probably would, considering he'd eaten a rock, two bugs, and copious amounts of gravel with all of that gnawing- Dax would at least be kind enough to explain that it was all Jak's fault, and if it ever happened again, he'd throw up on him twice.

He was considerate that way!

He was also hanging on for dear life, to whatever seemed to be closest to his arms at the time. Which meant... Jak's face. Hello, conveniently-placed-face.

And then there were the 'blegh' sounds, which he was now making in a very different scope from before. Once he was finished feeling as though the world was upside-down and doing a square dance around him, he'd probably be far more articulate.

... Ew.

Jak's eyes stared down and down and down to--

Vomit on his feet. Ew. Ew ew ew.

He dragged his head back up to glare at Dax. Hey! And shoved him off before-- anything-- other-- ew.

And, from the ground, on the flat of his back once again, Daxter was going to lift a finger accusingly, and point it at Jak, and frown. Frown at all... five of him.

Dizzy!

"I blame you, Jak. I blame youuuu."

What? Jak had done nothing. He crossed his arms and shot Daxter a severe look. Towering several feet above him totally helped with the effect, too. His feet!

"My mouth is gonna taste like buggage for days," Dax insisted, working on that motion that most people typically referred to as 'sitting up.' It was a very difficult sort of manoeuvre, which involved a good deal of wobbling, and some more shades of green which were somehow remarkably visible through the fur, yes.

"And rocks, Jak. I ate rocks."

That wasn't Jak's fault!

Seriously. It was the Ottsel thing all over again.

So with a roll of his eyes, Jak reached over and patted Dax on the head. They needed to find a large body of water. Stat. His feet felt like they'd just gone for another jog through the Boggy Swamp. Ewww.

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From the Rocky Bits to Down Below, Sunday Afternoon

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