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Quotes From Your Own Work!

Rebel Dynasty

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(Sorry for the double-post).

Snip from Ch.3 of my MG:

Around him, the room was dark, lit only by the silvery sheen of the mirror. He was aware of the stirrings in the shadowy corners, however, aware of the soft whispers and skittering of frightened things that seemed to fill this world with their corruption.

As the girl in the mirror stated she would help the old man in his quest, Farys rose from his chair with a stretch. It is not for the old man to lead the quest, dear girl, but you. You, and that delightfully suspicious boy on the train.

Oh, the old man would fulfill a purpose, of this there was no doubt. Farys had plans for him, just as he had plans for every soul within this world.

But for now the girl awaited him, though she did not know it as she scurried from the old man’s shop. She would know soon enough, though, yes. A lazy grin curled Farys’s lip once again, seeing the shadowy figure pursuing her, the girl completely unaware.

Now to make my grand entrance…
 

Erian1Mortal

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Feels good to be writing again (I'm managing to do a few lines every day, slow progress, but hey it's better then nothing)

Damien felt something warm on his cheeks, as he watched the scene play out in front of him.
“Don't feel sorry kid, it's better this way. Every existence is fated to end someday, even ours. Besides, I'll live on through you, you are my legacy.”
When he heard the voice beside him he turned around. But he couldn't find the source. There was no one there, he was alone. The tears didn't stop and he sank to his knees.
After a while he felt a hand on his shoulder.
When he looked up he felt like he was looking into a mirror. The person in front of him was nearly identical to him, aside from the blueish hair colour, the same tone the wolfs fur had had.
“I mean it's not like crying is a bad thing, in fact, I'm kinda happy that you feel that way. But you'll have to keep moving on. There is much you need to learn and do.”
The other him smiled. It reminded him of the way he used to smile way back, before he went down the wrong road. Damien wiped away his tears.
“You knew this would happen, didn't you?”
“No, but I suspected it. Guess we won't see each other any more huh? Kind of a shame, I liked talking to you.”
“Yeah, same here.”
Damien's vision started clearing up.
“Well, this is goodbye, tell the others my best regards. I'll be supporting the mission Jack has made for himself through you kid.”
The wolf extended his hand. When Damien took it, hexagonal cracks started appearing across his whole body. His smile grew wider.
“Have fun, Damien.”
And with that he disappeared and Damien knew this had been his final goodbye.
 

Rebel Dynasty

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Little snip from my cyberpunk, Static:

In the end, I think it was dreaming about my parents that clinched it.

As quietly as I could, I stole out of our temp apartment and out the side door, where not even the diffuse glow of the sitting room lamp was able to illuminate the refuse-filled alleyway. Slowly, as carefully as I could, I shut the door, the latch scarcely making any noise as it clicked into place. I just hoped it hadn’t locked behind me, or I’d be in more trouble than I could afford with my meager Grace Points. The five I’d lost two days before had knocked me down to six, and if I got caught out again after curfew… Well, I’d just have to make sure I didn’t. Gramps, Aunt Liza and Grandma Miriam—they were all counting on me, even if they didn’t know it.

I couldn’t let Sid—let Dendaryn—hurt them. So I’d do as Sid told me to do; I’d look for this thing, the device he’d claimed my grandfather had made, and I’d do it all with a ****ing smile on my face if it meant a chance at taking them down later.

If it meant keeping what remained of my family safe.
 

Shadow

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From a decopunk/noir Sherlock au I'm doing for NaNo:

Sherlock stopped mid-step, fingers tapping listlessly against the file. Apparently he couldn’t just leave after all—he needed to know. He set the file down on a chair near the door and slowly turned back around.

Actually, I do have one theory that bears stating.”

“Oh?” Richard seemed to hesitate as he hung his jacket over the back of his chair, watching Sherlock with wide, intrigued eyes. Everything about his posture indicated an open interest in whatever Sherlock had for him but, as it had before, a wall had sprung up behind his expression, immediately distancing himself from the conversation. “Should I be taking notes?”

He earned a half-shrug in answer, Sherlock’s lips briefly twisting with a flash of an unpleasant smile. Sherlock made a show of getting his thoughts together: carefully folded his hands behind his back as his gaze trailed over the complicated patterns in the peach wallpaper. Eagerness to know and whatever that moment in the lift had been aside, he did need to approach this with at least some measure of tact. He idly stepped forward, glancing just once towards the darkened window on the far side of the room. “Let’s pretend for a moment that, instead of your own admittedly impressive portfolio, you’re a journalist of a far more questionable history. Still looking for that big scoop that will cement your position within your office. But you lack the knowledge and experience to break a large story on your own, so you turn to another, more respected journalist for advice. Advice, as luck would have it, that he’s only too eager to give.”

At Sherlock’s pause, Richard gave a slow, loose-necked nod, seemingly more preoccupied with Sherlock prowling closer than with his words.

“Now you have a problem: your leads start vanishing when you share them. People, businesses, records—too much to be entirely the word of mistaken informants. But you’ve grown close to this other journalist, you want him too much to even consider that he’s the only one who could conceivably be using your secrets against you.” And there it is, Sherlock thought, finally feeling the weight of Brook’s full attention upon him; too sharp and dissecting for any normal person. Sherlock felt himself respond immediately. His shoulders tensed, head tilting in focus; his voice dropped to just above a murmur, pitching lower against the rush of words all tumbling against each other in their eagerness to get out. “Every time you pass along new information to your ‘friend’, he does the same—passing it along through relevant channels, manoeuvring around the board as he sees fit. Easy enough to manipulate the game when you hold so many of the pieces. But then you stumble across something too big. Perhaps your friend doesn’t have time to dissuade you from interfering or it’s too big of an operation to hide quickly…or perhaps he just decided you’re more effort than you’re worth; regardless, he’s forced to make a call.”

Sherlock came to a stop just in front of him, openly observing despite all indications of futility. Odd, though. How many times had he been told this level of attention was off-putting when directed at another person? And yet, in the last few days, Brook had never seemed bothered by it. And the only things to see were what Sherlock was certain Brook wanted him to.

Richard blinked up at him, nerves and confusion rippling over his expression even as they failed to reach his eyes. He wet his lips, slowly rolling them together as his features finally settled on a look of slightly-offended disbelief. “You…you think I killed Kitty.”

“No. Not directly—you forget I’ve seen you use a gun. No, I believe you arranged an ambush. You knew Ms. Riley wouldn’t stop prying. You knew when and where she would be. All you needed to do was be certain the right people were there when she arrived. It would have been the easiest thing to organise; no one else involved would have wanted their work at risk because of a single, nosey reporter. What I don’t understand is why you felt the need to involve me in this.”

“I wanted to find her—”

“You knew she was dead and haven’t indicated the least bit of surprise or sorrow since we found her, suggesting you knew precisely where her body was as well,” Sherlock snapped, stepping almost violently forward into Brook’s space, ignoring how he flinched away. “But still you felt the need to…what? Test me? Why? Who are you really?”

“I gave you my information; I told you—

“Richard Brook, as you’ve presented him, doesn’t exist prior to the last decade. He is a fallacy of your own creation. Who are you?
 

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Jak arose feeling hurt. His body ached and he recognized where he was.

He was on the Gullwings ship. They didn't have a proper medbay so the spare room in the cellar made do.

He noticed they bandaged his rib cage. He run his fingers over his side and remembered where Errol stabbed him. He vowed to return the favour.

Jak realized he was naked. They must have torn his clothes off in order to operate.

Brother was sleeping in a chair by the door. Daxter slept on the desk with the bandages. His morph gun laid there but the ammo was spent. Spira didn't have any native eco so its pratically useless.

He slowly changed the settings to Peacemaker. There were no more cartridges. His rematch with Errol would have to be without his darker half.

Jak got up and hobbled to where Brother was sleeping. He tried to lift the man but stumbled. Thankfully he didn't wake up. He unhooked Brother's suspenders, thinking it was better than nothing.

When he gets on his feet, he'll pay him back. He grabbed his hammer of the ground. He'll have to upgrade it but for now, it'll be a good walking cane.

He didn't have much money so he'll have to camp in the wild. Rikku talked about camping before so he should "borrow" her kit.

Stealing from her felt wrong. He'll have to make do on his own.

Jak wonders if he should mix some potions with spiran whiskey. Oddly it taste better.

Jak made it up the main deck before spotting Yuna's distinctive braid infront of him.

Rikku and Paine he could handle but there was something different about Yuna. She had a way of bypassing his defenses and bringing up old sentiments. He couldn't rely on anger or fear to hide from her, he had to be honest.

If she asked him, he'd stay.

"Jak, you should be resting."

Jak gulped. Here it goes. He can't avoid her so he hobbles his way towards her. Trying not to wince he reached over to her.

She's standing at the edge, admiring the sunrise.

"When i first started travelling, i used to wake up early and watch the sunrise."

Jak leaned against the railing next to her.

"We could watch it before you go back to bed. Come, I'll help you."

Yuna turns to him but Jak doesn't face her.

"I'll be fine. You should stay and finish. I know the way back."

"No, I'll help you back to bed. I'll help you change those bandages."

Jak frowned. Worth a shot. He tries another.

"Brother's there. He'll get jealous"

Yuna puts her hand on hips.

"And Daxter will make a joke about me being your favorite nurse. I'm a big girl Jak. I can take it."

Jak turns to face her.

"I'm better off on my own."

Yuna speaks lower "Jak stop being stubborn. We're your friends let us help you."

"Errol's my problem not yours."

"He kidnapped me to get to you. So he's my problem now."

"He wouldn't if you didn't know me".

"This isn't my first kidnapping Jak. I was famous before i met you. I could handle myself."

"Just worry about Vengagun and leave Errol to me. He's not from your world, not your problem."

"Thats bullshit and you know it. He's on this world, he's hurting my friends, he's my problem."

Jak looks at her face and said "Just drop me at Home or with the Ronsos".

He starts going back to his room but Yuna follows him. She stops him by grabbing his shoulder.

"Jak, this isn't Haven and I'm not keira. You're not a tool or a monster stop thinking that i see you as one."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
@Shadow

Thanks for the support.
 
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"Come on Jak, a prisonyard would only teach you so much"

"I spent weeks debating who to pin this tragedy on. Everyone loves the Youth League but their leader is a cripple and the Al Bhed have been through so much already....I was leaning towards the Yu Yevon boy...he looks so meek and pathetic. But I saw how you look at the High Summoner and I knew what I have to do."

"Tell me priestess will your songs and spirits save you?"

"Death is not the end...Jak"

- Errol

"I've been here a month and I've been itching to leave this place. But then you'd showed up and opened old wounds. I now have something to do. Errol if your looking to die another time- I'm happy to oblige you"

"Back home there's no Farplane. People live and die and that's it. I'm not sure getting to see them again is good or bad."

"Yuna you ever try climbing Djose Temple? Each time I look at those floating rocks I just wanna jump from to the other. Timing would be close but I wanna see if it could be done"

"I met my mother in Guadosalom. Turns out I'm part Spiran after all"

"I'm not running from a life here or there. I just need to resolve some things back home. I'm gonna show Haven city what a little Spiran optimism looks like."

-Jak

"Jak all the maesters are wrong. This isn't my Calm. It's Tidus's and Auron"s, the Guado's, the Ronsos, The Al-Bhed and yours if you let it"

"I never said you were Tidus, I just wanted to be your sun like he was mine."

-Yuna
 

Erian1Mortal

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Unused scene of Beyond Origins / Burdens (working title, subject to change).
I highly doubt I'll use this scene in the future, but I wanted to get it out of my head as it had been stuck there for days.
Also I omitted the names and most of the descriptions of the characters, no particular reason, though I feel like once I've released a couple chapters of the webnovel (if I ever manage to finish rewriting Volume 1) it's going to be pretty obvious who those two are. Those who know the old concept, you are welcome to guess.

When he woke up it seemed like it was close to noon. According to the clock the date had also changed. The last time he had looked at it was 3 days ago. Not that it mattered. His body ached as he tried to move it.
„Pain huh?“ he thought to himself. Not a bad feeling. Through that he knew it couldn't be a dream. He truly was home. Surveing his surroundings, he knew this was his bedroom. However what caught his attention was the other person sleeping beside him. It didn't seem like she had planned on sleeping in this place, as she had no blanket over her.

„Might as well get up quietly...“ he muttered to himself as he put his blanket over her, while trying his best not to disturb her.

He looked into the mirror after slowly making his way to the bathroom.

„This new hairdo will take some time getting used to...“

Looking back at him wasn't the person he thought he'd see. He had slimmed down quite a bit, no doubt the result of not eating anything over the time of his foolish endeavour. It didn't help that his hair had changed colour to a blueish tone, as well as having grown out of control.

After washing his face he made his way to the kitchen.

Looking through it, it seems like his brother had kept a bunch of ingredients on hand while he had lived in the apartment. Or was it her doing? He didn't know. And frankly it wasn't important at this moment.

He took out some eggs and started getting ready to make some omelets, when he felt something pressing on his back.

„Sorry, did I wake you up?“ he didn't know what else to ask.

„No, not really...“ her voice was still a little drowzy „... but you scared me a little.“

„I did?“ his confusion was no doubt written all over his face.

„I thought you were gone again...“ She tightened her embrace as he put his hands on hers.

„I won't be going anywhere“

„Promise?“ he barely heard the whisper coming from her.

His lips formed into a smile. "Promise.“
 

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The Pumping Station was eerily quiet. The local metal heads were vanquished and the wild life knew better to mess with them. The only sounds were Daxter complaining about his trip in the pipes but Jak knew it was better to just let him keep going.

Just then a spaceship flew across the sky. The engine noise dwarfed every other sound and it turned at a downward angle. Jak ran towards it with Daxter trailing behind.

Daxter jumped on his waist and yelled "Jakkkkkk, leave it alone. Curiosity ain't killing this ottsel"

Jak laughed and said "Come on Dax, where's your sense of adventure?"

Jak ran up the platform and Daxter climbed up to his shoulder. He sped up and Daxter held on his shoulder guard tighter.

Jak jumped from the platform ledge onto one of the pipes. These platforms rose and fell so he had to time it right. Jak's experience with the precursor platforms back home made it old news. He wondered if Haven's mechanical engineers got the idea from them.

He missed the feeling of adventure, the feeling of chasing the unknown. His time in prison did little to squash his native wanderlust. However it came with it's own drawbacks but Jak pushed that dread down. Every moment free was a "screw you" to the Baron and his captors.

He will get his revenge but he was gonna savor this freedom first.

Jak reached the clearing where the ship crashed. This tech looked unlike he had ever seen in Sandover or Haven but he couldn't be sure.

Keira would know...and Jak pushed the guilt back down.

Daxter jumped down, giving the ship's design some thought. Daxter spent more time in Haven and might know what it was. Jak's glad Daxter survived unscathed but wished he found him sooner.

"It's kinda cartoony looking don't ya think?" Daxter's statement shook him out of his thoughts.

Jak looked closely and saw what he meant. It looked like one of their drawings they did as children.

Just then the hull started to shake and Daxter hid behind his leg. The cockpit flew open violently letting out a ton of smoke.

Jak prepared for trouble but a woman with long flowing pink hair stumbled out instead. She was oddly dressed in a white outfit and a skirt. It had black lining and a round hat with a pinkish gem in the middle. The hat had cartoony eyes and it looked tired.

The pair watched her jump up and survey the damage. She spoke out loud in gibberish but her body moved as if she was excited and a little embarrassed.

Jak wondered if she was talking to them and coughed loudly. She turned and they locked eyes.

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" She rushed towards him and talked rapidly. He noticed she was pretty and felt a blush coming on. He looked at his feet to hide it and realized she was floating. He looked up and saw two bat wings protruding from her back.

His eyes went wide. He met his first alien.

She pushed her face super close to him,and he noticed she was mad. He noticed how small her ears were and she gasped, reaching out to touch his big ears. He jumped back and Daxter climbed up his shoulder and leaned out for a better look.

Pretty girl or not, personal space mattered.

She reached out to touch him but he spoke harshly. "Listen sister, not just anyone could pet orange lightning."

She squealed even louder and grabbed him sizing him up. She even cradled him to her chest. Daxter went from cautious to enjoying himself. He even raised his eyebrows at Jak and Jak rolled his eyes in response.

Jak coughed "Are you alright?"

She rummaged through her satchel and pulled out a square box triumphantly. It looked like a toy remote control and she turned a few dials.

A female voice proclaimed "new language assimilated". It had a neutral tone.

The traveller asked "Can you hear me now?" She looked hopeful.

Jak and Daxter nodded together.

"Great, it will still take a while before I can read your writing but we should be able to talk better. It's so cool to meet people from other worlds. My ship crashed but I can fix that. Eventually. I'm Lala Satalin Deviluke and what's your name, handsome?

Jak rubbed his hands through his hair, trying not to blush. Daxter snickered but Jak glared at him. Looking back at her he said, "I'm Jak and he's Daxter"

He outstretches his hand and she wrings it enthusiastically. She's got a grip.

"Yay I have two new friends and aliens to boot. One of them is an animal that talks. Nana and Momo would be so thrilled. Can all animals talk here?"

As if on cue one of the lizard crawlers comes forward from the bushes. Before Jak can mention anything Lala rushes towards it.

"Can you talk too, Mr. lizard?"

She takes out a box and Jak recognizes it's a camera. She aims to take a picture and the lizard snarls. The lizard whips out it's tongue at her and she fumbles with the camera. Jak tosses the rock at it and it scampers off, still snarling.

"Yeah you better run before I sic Jak on you" Daxter pipes in.

Lala turns around and snaps a photo. Jak flinched but Daxter started making poses. A robotic voice interrupts them.

"Miss Lala what are you doing? The ship!"

First two pages of "Mr and Mrs Trouble" a Jak and Daxter/To love ru fanfic. If people are interested its on Archive of our own and Fanfiction.net
 
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Shadow

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Do not ask for whom the weird AUs are written; they are written for thee me.

“It’s not ours to question where the Nightmares come from. The point is not to fear them. They can’t keep you if you’re not afraid,” Sherlock’s father tells him one night.

Of course Sherlock won’t notice for many years that his father doesn’t entirely believe the words—that he is afraid and nothing is likely to change that—but he’s eight the first time he hears them and too preoccupied to notice. Tonight he’s learning what he’s been promised is an essential magical skill: sewing. It’s fiddly work for his small fingers, but he guesses it’ll be useful. After all, he’s seen Mummy sew loads of things: clothes, toys, spells, and flesh. (Mummy was supposed to be supervising his study, but it’s a Dead Moon and she’s having a difficult time remembering them, so the role has fallen onto his father’s shoulders.) So Sherlock’s giving it a proper go. We’re going to alter something you usually wear in your dreams, had been his father’s exact words, which has led to him clumsily stitching over the buttonholes of his favourite coat in thick red thread. Red, for remembrance, because it’ll help him deduce whether or not the reality he perceives is real.

Not that knowing the difference between dreams and reality make any difference when it comes to things other than Nightmares. Beasts, for instance, care for nothing but blood and bone, and he is quite scared of beasts. None of you have anything to worry about, his teacher promises the class with a hesitant smile every month, witches never become beasts. But Sherlock knows that’s rubbish. Witches may not become beasts very often, but, when they do, they become the most terrifying beasts of all.

“Do beasts have dreams?” Sherlock asks, attempting to tie off the thread as he finishes with a buttonhole.

His father frowns into his tea instead of immediately answering. They both try not to flinch as a snarl erupts from above them, rattling the thick chains and sturdy locks on Mummy’s bedroom door. (And Sherlock tries very hard not to think about Eurus or Redbeard—he’s learned to stop asking what happened; it wouldn’t be a good idea to focus on it now.)

“I doubt anyone knows,” comes the eventual answer. “But the Nightmares never take them.”

For a moment, it looks as though his father might say more. But all he does is set aside his cup and help Sherlock rethread his needle.
 
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Khalid-
"Citizens rejoice, it's the yearly Ayane visit. Ive known her since i was 15 and her visits tend to leave me confused and horny, just not in that order. What i am to her is a mix of a playdate and a chess piece. She dropped a photo on my desk along with a broken alarm system. Now i gotta replace it and my roommate's given me the stinkeye. He's a sasquatch with a tech fetish and you know what, nevermind. So the girl in the photo is a high school sophomore. Knowing Ayane, she could be anywhere from a long lost sibling to a ritual sacrifice. And here i thought i was gonna have a lazy weekend."

Making use of my "appreciation" for the DOA girls to beat my writers block.

Khalid during the high school reunion episode-
"Watching Ayane being Hana again is disconcerting. I met her when she was pretending to be a high school student. It's uncanny how she slipped right back into character but I'm wondering how she'd get the invite. She lives in the middle of nowhere and I had to buy a dog's carcass to verify that with a haruspex. Trust it's not as easy as it sounds. Turns out people were more surprised Mo got a girlfriend than me becoming a journalist. People thought he was gay but thats a common misconception. He was a nerdy guy who was raised muslim so male/female interactions is a foreign concept. Esther had to give us a TED talk on how to deal with nonmuslim girl affection. He's getting married in a month but she's a snowwoman. Guess i know what i'm gonna be doing next month. Speaking of Esther, she saw me and gave me her patented glare. She's a cop who learned of the supernatural when we met. Unfortunately knowing me hasn't worked in her favor. Whatever ends up happening tonight, she'll hold me responsible. Great, I'm looking forward to that lecture".

@Shadow
You should check out Frogwares's Sherlock Holmes: Awakened. Its a Sherlock crossover with HP Lovecraft themes.
 
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“Jak, it doesn’t have to be so perfect’ Yuna whined.

Jak waved her away, not looking up from his sketchpad. As a child he was fond of drawing and kept up with it over the years. There was a break when he first went to Haven City but after he left the Baron’s prison, it helped with his mental state.

In order to help his search for a way home last year, he drew sketches of precursor artifacts to show people. Yuna liked them so he shared others that he drew. Over time he suspects he started drawing different subjects just to get her opinion on it.

When he returned to Besaid, Yuna asked him to draw her a portrait. She had changed her look and wanted to see how it looked through Jak’s eye. He told her she was still beautiful as when he left but she wanted proof.

“I don’t like it. Your old one was better.” Jak felt her peering over his shoulder. She moved from the chair in front of him to right beside him on the couch.

Jak rolled his eyes and looked at her. He was not amused but she's smiling.

“Well i do my best work when no one’s looking.” Jak retorted.

Yuna looks at him “That’s not a good trait to have. What if you start selling your paintings?”

“I just have them write down what they want.” Jak continued

“What if they want a portrait?” Yuna asked.

“then I won’t just do any” Jak folds his arms.

“It’ll be hard to make a living if you don’t sit and do portraits” Yuna tilts her head

“Well i’ll be a part time painter and full-time freeloader” Jak shrugs and leans back on the couch.

“Only if you walk around in your boxers and give me a show. I need something to look forward to when i get home.”

Jak looks at her with mock shock in his eyes. She meets his gaze with a smile and a moment passes. They both laugh and Yuna lunges forward. She pushes Jak on his back, laying into his arms and placing her head on Jak’s chest.

They curl up together on the couch.

“You’ve changed” Jak remarked while moving her hair. He preffered it when it was shorter.

“I’m moving forward. You can too.” She announced.

“Have you really? You’re back to being a summoner”

“Technically I’m a maester advising people on how to live. Big difference.”

“Sure”

“Did you like my sermon today?”

“You’ve always been good at public speaking.”

“How did i make you feel about Yevon?”

“I don’t care about Yevon but you’ll help these people find their way.”

“What a backhanded compliment. Thanks Jak”

“Well you helped me when i was here"

"Your a work in progress.”

“And I promised to check in once a year with updates.”

“Well make it sooner”

“I only just got here. I haven’t even left yet”

"Well stay"

"You know I can't"

Yuna looks up at him, anger forming on her face. Jak looks her in the eye and remarks '' Yuna I can't be what you need".

Her gaze softens "A normal life is something you could build Jak."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A sequel to Fresh Start- Jak and Yuna try to build a relationship together after the sad ending of FF10-2. Yuna's situation is based on the "Will" audio drama. I felt like Yuna sounds like Rikku here.
 
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Following Yuna's mother through a field of flowers was not how Jak saw his day going but he learned to just roll with it. The flowers looked pretty from afar but they give off a weird vibe. The shifting sky doesn't help. Whenever he was here he always lost track of time. He didn't belong here, he could feel it in his bones.
"How do you know Yunie?" Jak looked at his companion. She was around Yuna's height, with fair hair and a big smile. She wore faded overalls and a white blouse. She had a habit of resting her hands near her hips. Yuna did the same when she was nervous before a firefight.
"Looking for trouble ma'am?" Jak asked. "Things have been off around here lately" she glanced before looking back. "and my name is Shara not ma'am"
Jak had the suspicion he found Rikku's mom instead but he kept that to himself.
"Ma'am just makes me feel old". Jak didn't realize ghosts could be sensitive about their age.
"Right". he replied and started walking away. Shara locks arms with him and smiles.
"I hope your more verbose with Yunie" Jak rolls his eyes and picks up the pace. Shara struggles to keep up.
"so how'd you two meet?' she asked. Jak fights back a groan.
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The climax of act 3 is Jak trying to find Yuna in the Farplane. Along the way he meets Yuna's mom.
 
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