(no subject)

[ddddropthebass]

Who: Jak and Bass
What: One year after the defeat of the Dark Makers, Jak is a brick with a gun doing what a brick with a gun does: clean-up. He comes across an unfinished project in an old Krimzon Guard facility and his work ends up following him home.
Universe/CR: Jak-Universe AU



Clean-up, they'd called it. Really, it was more to give Jak something to do, although it was necessary to maintain the peace they'd so carefully constructed. Old enemy storehouses needed to be examined, categorized and, in most cases, blown up. Jak was the most qualified warrior to deal with any potential resistance so for the more remote posts to where it would be difficult to transport troops, Jak was dispatched. It wasn't entirely to get him out of their political hair-

Well, it was kind of for that too. But Jak was never meant to sit behind a desk. Ashelin knew it, Torn knew it, Sig knew it. Even Daxter knew it, to a degree, which is why he stayed behind as Jak went out, and hadn't that been a tough decision. Jak had taken it in as much stride as could be assumed, being separated from someone with whom he'd spent almost every making moment, and Daxter was about as happy about it but there were responsibilities to which he had to attend now, least of all the management of the Hip Hog. Things with Tess were getting serious, and for some reason Dax was actually sort of good at helping write up diplomatic legislature, in some hilarious twist of fate. So that meant a lot of staying put, something that Jak was unarguably bad at doing.

Just a few runs, Samos had asked. To tie up loose ends. If left alone, loose ends always tie themselves, and never in a way you want them to. ...he could've gone longer with that string metaphor (included something about the knots and snares of life maybe) but Jak had already since lost interest and was ready to leave.

Krimzon Guard Depot Alpha-581 was on the outskirts of the Wasteland, on one of the southern islands and only barely accessible by land. The outer walls of the depot were rusted by water and bleached pale pink by the sun, salt crusting along the seams of the plates from where the waves slapped against the foundation. Inside wasn't much better; the depot was still, sand piled up in corners and the ocean breeze whistling through holes in the roofing, manufacturing equipment in varying states of disrepair, only a handful of Deathbots wandering about the facility in confusion. Another depot set for decommission.

Only...the power grid showed one room at the center of the compound with power consumption. Blowing the building sky high would undoubtedly take that room with it, except that the Krimzon Guard were infamous for using Dark Eco in the construction of their later models thanks to Errol. An explosion with Dark Eco involved could drastically affect the surrounding ecosystem, even all the way up to Spargus. That room would have to be investigated first.

In the center of a room, near a flashing panel indication a critical power failure, is a capsule. Inside that capsule is the body of what can only be a strange-looking young boy...either asleep or dead. The panel reads CATASTROPHIC POWER FAILURE: ACTIVATE UNIT? YES/NO in blaring, blinking red. A remnant of the KG to be sure, but...definitely nothing that they'd made before. Especially with the room stinking like it'd had been painted with Dark Eco.

Comments

[shadesofeco]

Jak's still half asleep you jerk, so his reflexes aren't what they should be. He makes a startled wheezing noise and clutches his ribs, shoving his things away without even realizing what they are.

Wait.

His hand runs over the edge of the hoverboard and he cracks an eye open at it.

Wow, he'd say thank you, but you kind of just knocked the fucking air out of his lungs so no.

[ddddropthebass]

Bass lifts his chin and looks down his nose at Jak.

"...you totally thought I bolted, didn't you? You thought I wasn't coming back. I could've too, y'know. You didn't really give me clear orders. You fucking suck at that."

[shadesofeco]

Clearing his throat, Jak glares at him.

"No, but everyone else did." Shifting to get a little more comfortable, he lifts the morph gun and checks the parts. It's gonna need a lot of cleaning, but it's in surprisingly good condition.

"So why did you come back?"

Setting the gun down on the table, he lifts a few bottles and shakes them slightly until he finds one that isn't empty.

[ddddropthebass]

Bass jerks his chin at the gun and board. "Like I'm lugging your shit around with me forever." It's a non-answer. He's kind of hoping Jak is too stupid, too drunk or too annoyed to ask further because if he's being honest? He's not really sure why he came back himself.

[shadesofeco]

Hey, he's not that drunk or annoyed.

Plus he kinda gets it a little. Enough not to push for a real answer.

"I'm not good at giving orders." Dumping the rest of the bottle into a glass, Jak shoves it aside with the others and clears a space for the gun. "If you wanna stick around, I could do with some backup though."

It's as close to a handshake as Jak'll get.

[ddddropthebass]

Not good at giving orders? Bullshit. Bass snorts and looks away, folding his arms tight. He doesn't believe that for a minute. Jak might be too stupid to know just what he's got at his disposal, but nobody is bad at giving orders. That's the only thing organics (and even semi-organics) are good at doing; ordering shit around regardless of its sentience or willingness to be ordered around. That Jak's given him this much freedom has to be the result of him just not realizing exactly what he could have Bass doing. Or for a lack of shit to have him do, but the second a conflict of interests comes up? Yeah, Bass knows how that's gonna work. He fucking knows. He'll be steamrolled over and shoved right back into a box to fucking rot.

He should go. Jak gave him an out. He should fucking pack up and leave. "You saying I can go right now, no catch? If I don't want to stick around?" A test. One he's fully expecting Jak to fail (or maybe one he's hoping he doesn't).

[shadesofeco]

Well that's a loaded question. Jak's brows draw together and he looks down into his glass.

He's not good at this shit. Not at strategy, at orders, at planning ahead. He reacts, he moves without thinking and lets people tell him where to go and what to do.

"If you wanna leave, I won't stop you. But Torn thinks you're only good for hurting people, that you were programmed to be a monster." He takes a drink and sets the glass back on the table, shifting in his seat. "That's what Erol tried to make me into."

And maybe that's why he likes having Bass around. He's brass, rude, insensitive, violent and aggressive, but Jak kinda gets it. And more than anything, he gets what it feels like to be backed into a corner and told your future's been planned out for you whether you like it or not.

And he hates it.

Looking up again, he smirks a little and shrugs one shoulder. "Feels pretty good to prove them wrong."

[ddddropthebass]

The bored expression on Bass's face sharpens a little as Jak talks. He doesn't have a lot of experience talking with a variety of people, but he's got a thousand different subroutines telling him what to look for in someone's face, how to look for lies, how to root out weaknesses to manipulate. There's a lot of weakness in what Jak's telling him, but more than that there's not not a whole lot of dishonesty. Or any, at all.

Bass sniffs and looks away. "I am a weapon. I'm not like you. I wasn't changed from something else, I was fuckin' put together to be a really goddamn kickass gun." His smiles are always sharp, wicked in intent and bearing fangs that absolutely don't look human. He uses that and the glowing eyes to his advantage, unsettling bystanders, guards, whoever and whatever he can. Jak might not like being a monster but to Bass? That's all he is and all he'll ever want to be. There's nothing else out there for him. "And I like it. I don't have a problem being a monster, I don't have a problem with only being good for hurting people. That's not what I have a problem with." The smile slides off his face and into something more dangerous. "What I have a problem with is someone else holding the trigger. You follow me?"

He leans forward abruptly, feet sliding off the table so he can press an arm into the wood, as threatening as he can get. Not intentionally for once, not trying to intimidate Jak but just to impress upon him the severity of what he's saying. Less sarcasm and bullshit and actual honesty here. "I fucking hate being someone else's mutt. If I'm a monster, I'm my own. I don't need to prove a goddamn thing wrong and I don't care about Errol or the Dark Makers. All I care about is doing whatever the fuck I want and I can't do that until you're fucking dead."

He leans back, hands behind his head again as he props his feet back up. "...not that I can do anything about that. Sorry chump, but you can say you won't order me around all you like. Doesn't make any fucking difference; I'm your gun whether we both like it or not."

[shadesofeco]

Jak, on the other hand, can't read people for shit. It's probably why he's been taken for a ride so many times, why he didn't see enough of this shit coming. It's not that he's gullible, he just tends to follow the path that makes the most sense to him at the time. It doesn't often pay off, but it's all he knows.

Bass doesn't intimidate him with his display, though it certainly gets his attention. Chest-puffing bravado doesn't exactly send chills down his spine considering he works alongside so many painfully insecure ex-KG officers, but it does do wonders to piss him off.

"If you want to leave then go. Don't bullshit me."

There is a lot of honesty in what Jak told him, and while it's not exactly a secret that he's the lone Dark Eco experiment survivor, it's not very well received either. Despite his best efforts and all his work, Jak's still a pariah and a monster. And he fucking hates it. The idea that Bass revels in it is almost alien to him.

Almost. There's still that tiny part of him that whispers how much he enjoys it when there's blood crusted under his fingernails, that makes his heart beat faster remembering the screams of the Metal Heads he ripped apart with his bare hands.

"But I'm not about to let you hurt anyone. Weapon or not, you can be better than whatever Errol made you to be."

[ddddropthebass]

"I'm already better than whatever that tin can made me to be," Bass snarls, dropping the unaffected act to half-stand and bare his teeth. Something about Jak telling him to just leave if he wants makes him angry, makes him want to dig his hands into that moron's skull and slam his face against the table. Where the fuck does he get off telling him that, like it's that easy? Like he doesn't have a responsibility here?

"You're even dumber than I fucking thought before if you're honestly trying to sell me the reform act. Do you even get what you did, not shooting me on the spot? Maybe I will go! Maybe I'll get out of here and level a couple blocks in the residential area before you even know to come after me! How's that sound to you?"

[shadesofeco]

"Sounds like you just told me what you plan to do," Jak snaps childishly.

Setting his palm on the table, he pushes himself up with a barely concealed grimace. "So what the fuck answer do you want? Why did you come back if all you're gonna do is bitch about it?" He's tired and cranky and sore and the last thing he wants is to deal with someone else acting like their problems are the only ones worth worrying about.

"In case you hadn't noticed, everyone's life here sucks. And," he jabs a finger towards Bass, "if the alternative is you murdering a bunch of innocent people, it looks like you're stuck with me, so start getting used to it."

[ddddropthebass]

"Fuck you!" Bass howls, jumping up to stand on the booth seat. He stomps a foot on the table and leans over Jak, this time trying to intimidate and probably failing miserably. "Fuck you and everyone you know, you fucking dick! I brought you your shit! I'm useful!" He pounds a fist against his chest with a clang. "I'm strong! I'm smart! I'm better than you in every way possible and I could kill you in a second if I didn't have these fucking rules in my head, so fuck you! I hate you!" He kicks the bottle into the wall and throws himself down from the table, storming out the door and grabbing Jak's zoomer out of spite.

He doesn't come back for two weeks, but at least there are no reports of a robot rampage anywhere.

Dax makes good on his promise to get Jak some green eco, which helps the healing process. He and Jak head down to the sewers to check out the landslide and report back in to Torn. Nothing a concrete patch job won't fix. No reports of any of the Metalheads flooding in from the nest either, so they were likely all killed in the cave-in that had buried Jak and Bass.

Daxter is (thankfully) out when Bass shows back up. He stands silently next to the table Jak's currently cleaning his gun on, refusing to look at him. "I hate it here," he announces, like this is probably the most important thing Jak will ever hear. "I have a map of Dark Maker depots in my head. I want to blow them up."

[shadesofeco]

The first few days, Jak keeps an ear to the ground just in case he needs to go fix another mess he caused. When no reports of mass casualties or collapsing structures filter through the grapevine, he relaxes a little. Not enough to stop let his guard down completely, but enough to reassure him that maybe Bass just needs to blow off steam and get shit out of his system. God knows Jak can understand that.

Green eco fixes the last aches and scrapes from his fall, just in time for him to finish cleaning the gunk out of his gun. By that point Torn's so sick of him climbing the walls and complaining about being bored he practically boots him and Daxter out of the bar to go get some fresh air.

A few small missions and a quick trip back to the sewers, and Jak's ready to see some real action. Something a bit more interesting than "flip these switches and deliver this package". Something with teeth.

He doesn't look up when Bass clunks back into the bar, carefully unclipping parts and setting them on the table. "You asking for my orders?" Wiping his hands on a cloth, he finally looks up and fixes Bass with an unimpressed look. "Or did you come to pick another fight?"

[ddddropthebass]

Bass sneers and folds his arms tighter, turning away a little. "If I was here to pick a fight I'd already be picking it, asshole. All I want is to wipe some Dark Maker shit off the map. Last time I checked, that's what you wanted to. So are you in, or am I going by myself?"

[shadesofeco]

Jak stares at Bass for a few seconds, chewing the inside of his cheek.

Eventually he sighs, pushes himself up and slings his gun back into its holster like he's doing Bass the world's biggest favor. "Fine. Where are we headed?" But as much as he tries to look disaffected, his fingers drum excitedly against his armor and the corner of his mouth twitches in a barely-there smirk.

[ddddropthebass]

Yeah, Jak might not be aware of it (and Bass definitely isn't) but he is doing Bass the world's biggest favor. The way his own face curls into a vicious grin says more than enough about his change of mood as soon as Jak agrees and he cracks his knuckles, metal clicks like gunshots in the empty bar. "The one you found outside Spargus? There's another depot south of there. Half of them should still be run by online KG bots, so we might even get to have a little fun."

Is it wrong that Bass has no problem tearing about what are essentially his kin? No? Awesome. 'Cause that's what they're gonna do.

Torn is more than happy to get Bass and Jak out of the city, though Daxter is less so when he hears that Jak's going off with the "rabid KG bot who almost broke my damn bar," but he can tell Jak needs to get out and Dax can't go, busy trying to root out a new smuggling ring that cropped out in the harbor. Ashelin looks between them before pinning Jak with a stare and an order to submit THOROUGH reports (a dream within a dream, Ashe) and finally, finally they're free.

They even run into a couple of those gigantic lumbering Metalheads still living out in the desert. Bass blows the head off of one and tries to drag the entire skull back to Spargus before getting too bored and giving up.

"Bullshit," Bass shouts over the wind as they cruise past the ruined KG depot still spitting smoke into the sky. He leans over the side to peer down at it curiously. "Time travel is bullshit. I don't believe that for a fucking second."

[shadesofeco]

Jak does at least make a good attempt to placate Daxter. Even if the smuggling ring weren't operating right under his nose, it'd be a bad idea for him to tag along considering how much Bass gets his fur in a knot. Better to keep the two of them separated.

At least Ashelin and Torn understand. Sorta. Torn mostly just wants them away from the damn city and Ashelin wants to be done with all this KG bullshit left over from her dad's monumental fuck up of a dictatorship.

It's been a while since Jak's had a chance to cruise around the Wasteland and there's something comforting about being back there. Maybe it's different now that he knows a little more about his past, maybe it's just because Spargans don't judge him the way Havenites do. Maybe it's just a break from the constant rain and fog of Haven. Or maybe it's just because he's still riding an adrenaline high from their last minute escape from an exploding war factory.

"It's the truth," Jak yells back, yanking down his bandanna so Bass can hear him better. "I probably wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't lived it."

[ddddropthebass]

"Maybe you were just really fucking high. Didn't you say that Samos guy was the Sage of Green eco? Sounds fuckin' hippie as shit to me. Bet the eco's not all he's got that's green." Bass hands over the edge of the cruiser, glancing back. "...hey. Land, there's something sparking. I wanna check it out."

Bass is pulling off a maintenance hatch and waving away the smoke with a sneer. The contents are sparking but he delves right in. It's an easy fix. "So what the fuck's up with the Dark eco thing? You suck it up like a sponge and you're not braindead. Well." Bass pulls out a few wires and peels back the melted plastic to splice them. "Mostly not braindead."

[shadesofeco]

Pulling hard to the right, Jak finds a stable patch of land and lowers the Hellcat. Yanking down his bandanna, he climbs out and strolls around to where Bass is working, leaning back against the side of the vehicle. That is fucking fascinating.

"I don't know," he confesses. "Something about some kind of prophecy? The guys who wrote about it aren't around anymore, so I'm just kinda flying by the seat of my pants here."

Jak's gonna ignore that jibe, too. Used to that. Also, rude.

"It probably would've killed me eventually, if I hadn't gone into the temple." He gestures towards the Precursor temple off in the distance.

[ddddropthebass]

"Oh my holy fuck. You are so special sparkle snowflake that if I could throw up, I'd do it on your face." Bass twists some wires together, crams them back behind the shielding panel and jams his arm in there so he can start fiddling with the connector switches. "What was in the temple? Peace of mind? A huge fucking bar?"

[shadesofeco]

If Jak was smarter or wittier or anything other than a brick with a gun he might have had a sassy comeback for that. Something about Bass' mom, perhaps.

Instead he just rolls his eyes and huffs under his breath.

"Light eco," he grunts as he turns away to squint over the horizon. "Hurry it up, I don't wanna be out here in another dust storm."

[ddddropthebass]

"It's just dust, you are such a baby," Bass mutters, but he obligingly stops fiddling with things that probably don't need to be fiddled with just yet. Only because a sandstorm would royally fuck up his optics.

That, and that bit about Light Eco. As they pile back into the Hellcat and Jak pulls his scarf back up, Bass shifts away from him. Fucking Light Eco. Just the thought of coming into contact with the stuff makes Bass's nervous system simulate his skin crawling. He'd never entertained the idea that Jak could beat him in a fight before now, but if he used Light Eco? Shit. That crap is the only substance on this planet more dangerous than Dark Eco.

It takes them a while to reach their next destination and Bass is silent the entire way. Even as the Hellcat's hoverjets spray up clouds of dust when Jak sets her down just outside the facility, Bass just hops down from the cruiser and falls into step behind him.

No wonder Jak never seems afraid of him. He's got whatever beats 'nuke' in rock-paper-scissors sitting pretty in his veins.

[shadesofeco]

Jak on the other hand is oblivious to Bass' discomfort. The silence is nice, and he takes advantage of it to kick back and enjoy driving through the Wasteland. Wide open space, no other vehicles to compete with, just sand and rock as far as the eye can see. Fucking wonderful.

And he has to admit, the Hellcat is running better since Bass tinkered with her.

Landing carefully just outside the abandoned facility, Jak immediately unholsters his morph gun and rests it on his shoulder as he yanks down his scarf.

"After you." He sweeps his arm out in a grand gesture.

[ddddropthebass]

"You take point," Bass says, hanging back. "I don't feel like getting shot in the face today." Truthfully, he would love to be shot in the face today because that would mean he'd get to shoot back. Since Jak told him about the Light Eco though, Bass has finally identified what is it about this gun-stroking lunkhead that sets him on edge.

Jak isn't a particularly threatening person...at least, not compared to the people to which Bass is more or less accustomed. He hasn't given Bass a lot of slack but that doesn't mean he's ever been outright violent with him. Shit, if Jak had been outright violent with him, that would've been better. Bass understands that. He knows that language better than anything spoken. No, what's become abundantly obvious is how unnecessary Bass is. How he's a distraction at best, a nuisance at worst and is needed by absolutely nothing, nobody, nowhere. If he vanished off the face of this planet, nobody would care.

Even so, he's fine with that. He'd come to terms with that a long time ago, somewhere between session 23 and session 46. He'd logged that simple truth into his head, that his only purpose to being alive is whatever he makes of it and fuck anybody else who doesn't agree. Bass doesn't need to be needed so long as he needs himself, and he does.

Violence, that's great. Being unneeded, that's kind of shitty but utterly acceptable and, given what he is, inevitable. The Light Eco? Being anywhere near that again is the worst torture Bass can conceive.

That shit scares the fucking hell out of him.

[shadesofeco]

Fair enough. Jak shrugs and steps forward, the sand battered facility doors sliding open with a groan of protest. Power's definitely still on; that could be a bad thing.

The place is deserted though, most of the consoles sparking and inactive. A few rooms yield a little ammo, but nothing too challenging yet. Jak lets himself relax.

Glancing back at Bass, he raises an eyebrow. "You're quiet," he says. "Something on your mind?"

Jak would happily work in silence, but he's sort of used to a sassy running commentary at this point. He didn't realize how much it helped him stay focused in a mission, even if he let most of it wash over him.