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“Silco?”
The little, shy voice drifted over Silco’s desk to him, it’s origin too short to be seen over its edge while he was sitting. The corner of his mouth lifted, just a little, and he leant forward to find two large blue eyes staring up at him, with an armful of, something. “Hello Jinx. Did you make these?”
She nodded very rapidly and ran around the edge of the desk, leaning up to shove all the items onto the desk. In a pile it was hard to differentiate what was what, but she pulled out what resolved to be an ashtray, covered in her drawings. “I made you a new one! For your uh, uh,”
“Cigar,” he completed for her, and took the tray in his hands, turning it over as if examining a fine jewel or piece of art as she waited for his reaction eagerly. Eventually, he hummed, and used it to replace his old ashtray. “This is a very pretty piece you’ve made Jinx, and it’s going to make people very jealous of me if they see it. But I can’t bring myself not to show off what you’ve made for me.” She beamed so bright it almost made him uncomfortable. He gestured at the pile again, prompting her to continue, and she fished out what looked like one of her grenades.
“And, and this one! Uh, didn’t work, again, but! I put a handle on it and you can raise and lower her mouth, so it’s like a cup!”
“Mug. What’s her name?”
“Jumper! Like those things with the biiiig ears you showed me in those books!”
Again, he tipped his old mug into the trash and replaced it with Jumper, popping it’s cap open. It was, actually rather helpful, as he could carry it around without fear of spilling for lack of caution. “Why didn’t she work?”
“I, umm, I don’t know. I cranked her key a bunch too and that didn’t work either, so, I dunno.”
He leant down to be on eye level, cocking his head. “Do you know why those keys make other things explode?” She shook her head, curious. “They’re turning a bunch of little gears, so that they take a long time winding up a very big gear so that it can raise a very small hammer, and hit a small piece of flint, setting some powder inside on fire. That makes it explode.”
“Sooo, if I get some of that powder, I can make them work?”
“Of course. I’ll buy you some. Why don’t you make a new one in the meantime, so you can test it as soon as it arrives?”
Jinx scurried off, and once the black powder arrived, she yanked him out of his office and into a back alley where she’d hung up a stuffed animal. She wound up a new grenade, making the attached mouth chatter so that when it was thrown, it stuck to the toy, exploding with a loud pop and sending stuffing flying. By the time it had settled, she had been scooped into Silco’s arms and spun around as she laughed, and he resolved to get someone to teach her how pin grenades and shrapnel worked.
Silco despised progress day. He found it to be a hypocritical celebration of work that topside didn’t put in, and frivolous to boot. But Jinx had seen some posters, and she’d looked up at him with her big blue eyes, and he had been unable to refuse. So, they wandered around the stalls, her hand in his despite her being 12 and, in her words, a big girl now, doing his best to enjoy the experience. She’d sampled food from every stall so far, finding the little baked balls of dough dipped in syrup to be her favorite, and her little messenger satchel stuffed bursting with toys and plush animals and tools. It was as he was deciding how to have a similar kind of celebration down in Zaun, when she dashed from his grasp and into a side stall. He jolted and followed, yelling her name and consumed with worry about what some privileged topsider might do to her, when he found her tugging on the sleeve of a pale, dark haired man with a cane, working on some hextech device set into the wall. He turns, surprised, but gentled his voice. “Oh, hello little girl, what is your name?”
“It’s Jinx,” Silco answered, emerging from the shadows to put a hand on his daughters shoulder. Admirably, the man didn’t even flinch.
“Oh, hello Jinx. And you are?” His voice was accented, not smooth and posh like the rest of topside.
“Her father.” Silco’s voice was cool, and measured.
The man shrugged, then very carefully leant down to speak to the girl. “You know, Jinx is a very interesting name. Did you choose it?”
“Mhm!” She was excited to be addressed, but dimmed as she continued. “Because I mess up a lot, I can’t make things like-like that!” She pointed animatedly at the device.
“You know, a jinx means something else here too. You say it when you and someone speak the same word at once.” He seemed almost conspiratorial, like he was sharing some secret, and it drew her in.
“Why?”
“Because, if you say it first, they have to buy you a drink.” The man grinned. “Or they have to kiss you, but I prefer the drink personally.”
Jinx looked deep in thought about that, then nodded to herself once. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”
“It’s Viktor. And to tell you another secret, my partner couldn’t make things like this either,” he tapped a dial on the machine, and it purred to life, glowing and humming, “until he met me. Maybe you just haven’t found your own partner.”
Again, she thought, and then nudged her shoulder into her fathers side. “He’s my partner. He’s just helping me work on it.”
“I am,” Silco agreed, then continued, “you’re not from Topside, are you Viktor?”
“No, I am not,” he laughed a little trying to suppress the sudden tension that rose in him from the question, “I and my whole family are Zaunite, I simply lucked into a position at the academy.”
“My daughter and I are undercity as well. I respect a fellow man willing to rise above his station.”
That made Viktor glow with just a little pride, as he steadied the cane beneath him and began to leave. “Well, we will say it is mutual then, I can just hope to use my station to help us all rise one day.”
Viktor departed, and as they left, Silco began to muse on the encounter. “What a fascinating young man.”
“Man!” The mirrored phrase jumped out of Jinx’s mouth in an eager little shout, and he sighed.
“Jinx, I really don’t think you should have any more sugar-“ she made a little ‘nuh-uh’ noise and pointed to a spot on her temple, and Silco’s smile was warmer than he intended. “Oh, alright,” he said as he hefted her into his arms and kissed her forehead, carrying her the rest of the way home.
“Your hair is getting too long.”
“Noooo it’s not,” Jinx rocked back and forth, leaning forward to look over the turbine wing, and assess the huge new silo she’d been given as her own space.
“You’re going to trip over it if you aren’t careful.” Silco cautioned from behind her, running a comb through the swathes of powder blue hair.
“Whaaaat if you just braid it for me? You know like, like,” she didn’t finish, going suddenly quiet and pensive. Silco didn’t have it in him to refuse her.
“Alright, but you’ll have to wash it often, and try and trim the ends to keep it healthy, yes Jinx?” She didn’t respond, only turn to squish her face into his chest and hug him.
“Yes, thank you.” A pause, “dad.”