Fourth Floor Common Room, Thursday Afternoon

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

So it'd almost been a week, and Jak was settling in just fine. Yep. It was a miracle that up until now he hadn't had time to explore the television yet. They had... something like it, back in Sandover, but it so wasn't the same thing. And it was good practice on his alphabet thing.

Right. Practice.

In practice, Jak was slung over a chair, dangling his feet over the edge, and sipping at a can of Red Bull. He was pretty sure the name was misleading - if there was any eco in that drink at all, it so felt like blue.

[[ open! ]]

Comments

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

...Well, that was just awesome.

(This was, strangely enough, roughly the same chain of events that had led to Daxter turning small and fuzzy. That was... probably not the most reassuring factoid, however).

Jak flailed as gracefully as he could the way down, his feet scrambling for a surface, a surface, a surface, the--

--bent trunk of the tree. He slid down. See? Like skateboarding! ...If it was completely uncontrolled and probably hurtling him to his doom.

[furnaceface]

Jono was pretty much screaming like a girl at this point, yes.

And yes, he was projecting this scream for anyone within earshot to hear.

And yes, he felt something like a rag doll at about this point.

Oh, look! There was the ground, closing in on them!

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

What Jak wouldn't do for a nice reserve of red eco right now! A sturdy head would be nice! A sturdy everything! The wind was passing by his head! Something was whistling! The pit of his stomach went--

Okay, it really was totally awesome, which was why his expression was torn between sheer fear and the total glee of an utter adrenaline junkie.

And that's when Jak, against every possible rule of physics anywhere, landed on his feet.

[furnaceface]

Jono, on the other hand, landed directly on his arse.

And then, in a pure white-eyed rage, he swore. A long stream of curse words that really only counted as curse words if you were from Britain anyhow. Following up the whole mess of it was a rousing exclamation of, //And if I had guts, I'd be throwing up on you right now, Jak!//

Nailing. Him. To. The. Wall.

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

Jak rubbed the back of his head, ignoring the pain in his soles like a trooper. What? He went half-barefoot; the wrappings didn't cover everything, he'd probably picked up one or two splinters along the way.

Anyway, Jono hadn't turned into anything fuzzy, so he was going to count that as a win. Seriously. These things just happened sometimes, right?

[furnaceface]

If Jak kept thinking things like that, Fandom was going to develop a sense of humour and turn Jonothon into an ottsel.

//I can't believe you really don't see a problem with what just happened there,// Jono continued, hauling himself to his feet and putting a hand on his bum with a wince. He was a mutant, he wasn't invincible. //You are grounded from Red bloody Bull for the rest of your life.//

No, he couldn't enforce that. But he'd sure as hell try.