Chapter Text
It's crazy, how everything can change in a split second. How your whole life can just get flipped inside out with a single decision.
It all happened in a moment of weakness.
Because of course, of course it had. Jinx wields some of the most dangerous weapons known to both Zaun and Piltover technological history, all to mask the fact that despite everything she is still too weak to accomplish anything without them. Too weak too weak, always have been always will.
The taunting voices of Mylo, Claggor, and Vander had been building up over the whole evening, teasing and berating her as they most commonly did. She had ignored them for the most part, with varying degrees of success, until her dear sister Vi had made a mistake, dredging up their names up from the grave and suddenly their presence became much more feasible. They were here now, hounding all around the tunnels of her brain with horrible words, until all other sounds became distant as her mind crumbled under the pressure.
She vaguely heard Silco's voice, blunt and demanding like the razor edges of a saw, calling out to Vi for her to just shut up , because maybe he really did realize what those sacred and special names did to her. Vi hadn't stopped though, and Jinx's skull was pulsing with pain as static took over her other senses. She could barley hear anything outside of the shadows clawing at her brain.
But despite the static, the tell-tale click of a barrel gun whiplashed Jinx back to reality, and in a moment of true panic- she turned and shot first.
.
.
.
It all seemed… so blurry now, even though it happened mere seconds ago. Like maybe it was all a bad dream, or another hallucination. She had those a lot, it wouldn't be surprising.
"I never would have given you to them."
No.
"Not for anything."
No, this was all real.
Her mind can make her feel as much guilt and shame as it wants, but only reality could cascade her in pure despair and agony the way this did. Only reality could manage that much.
"Don't cry. You're perfect."
And there, kneeling on her knees as she begged and grasped at her father's worn face like it'd be the last time she'd ever get to see him, she sobbed. It was so ironic it was laughable, how he'd loved her truly as his own. Despite what a horrible monster she was, despite gunning him down not even a minute earlier, despite her prudent flaws and her borderline animalistic behavior, he loved her .
And when his eyes suddenly lost focus, and his body became unnaturally limp, she desperately wanted nothing more than to rip all of her hair and scream, or curl up into herself until she was nothing.
He was gone. Just like everyone else she loved, she just couldn't shake the bad habit of killing them. A small, bitter laugh had escaped her for that one.
She really was a Jinx.
She'd dragged herself up from the ground eventually, when she'd gathered all the pieces of herself and crudely put herself back together. Taking slow and tired strides to a chair adorning the word "JINX" in bold pink letters. She tilted the chair open with the gun she'd taken from her father's cold hands, and she sat. Jinx had predicted earlier that this moment would have some sense of finality, a proper assurance to her new identity.
Now, it felt like she was just following a pre-planned script. She couldn't feel anything, aside from a full body numbness. It felt only quiet now, and the Not even her voices wanted her company now.
"Powder," a small whispering of that forsaken name shifted her eyes up, landing on Vi. Her sister's face was twisted in a mixture of concern and pity, with a small hint of silent relief. "It's… It's ok. We can still fix this. It'll be alright now." she assured her.
Jinx had… conflicting emotions about her sister, but she never wished peril on her. In that moment though, she numbly felt like raising the gun and shooting her still-unconscious girlfriend.
Would it still be alright then? Could they still fix it then?
Everything felt broken and scattered on cobblestone, like a shattered porcelain vase that had been tipped a little too hard.
It was a little unfair, for her to be able to say something like that. Vi wasn't the one who lost everything just now, Jinx was. She didn't need her sister's sympathy, because she was meant to be giving it to the girl who fell down a well. Giving it to Jinx would be… misplaced.
"I thought," she began, and her voice didn't feel like they belonged to her, "-maybe you could love me like you used to.” she breathed, letting the stillness in the air surround her, “Even though I'm… different." The words were stale on her tongue, tasting the distant hope she had felt once she'd heard of her sister's return. A hope for what? Jinx didn't really know. Whatever it may have been, it didn't matter now anyways. It's too late now.
Those thoughts belonged to a fool, and there's a difference between a Jinx and a Jester.
"But you changed too." She glanced blearily at the Piltover woman on the floor, face smeared with dirt and blood as her chest rose and fell steadily. It’s no wonder, now that she looked at the lady's angelic face and perfect soul, that Vi had chosen her over Jinx.
It hurt, still. To know that she could never stand a chance against Mrs. Perfectly-pruned Caitlyn. Her sister loved the stupid girl, and as much as she wanted to take the spot of her sister's sole affection, it wasn't her place anymore. She was a stranger now, looking into the warm sanctuary of the kind of love she knew she could never have again. It hurt, the finality of it all.
Funny. She had made this tea party to show which of the two Jinx would align her intentions with- Silco or Vi. By the end of it, she ended up having neither.
She knows what she has to do now. Fishbones, her greatest creation yet and a gift to her father, lay buried in the rubble, waiting patiently to be heaved over her shoulder and used. She could already imagine the magnificent explosion the shark would make, the destruction fitting snugly against the Piltover Council's headquarters. She could see the destruction already, and It was beautiful. Perfect, even-
“Don’t cry, you’re perfect.”
Just a little longer. She has to stay in reality for just a little longer, and then she can let herself fall apart. Preferably in a quiet, private room-
It was all waiting for her, she needed to finish off the night with a fireworks show. It’s what her dad would have wanted, and it’s what Jinx needs to do, to show those Pilties what they were playing with.
Except.
Except…
Except she didn't… want to.
It was a strange feeling, not particularly feeling like blowing something up for the simple sake of it. It was all she had learned to feel for so long too. Whenever she was stressed or angry, hurting someone or something else always seemed to relieve it. Whether it was because Silco’s men had crossed him and he ordered her to blow up their base of operations or simply because that building is there and I don’t want it there anymore . Destruction and brutality were things synonymous with both Jinx and Powder, so why the hell did she just not feel like it?
Silco would properly encourage her, if he were… still here. Be what they fear Jinx or We'll show them all Jinx . His words always set her back on track whenever she lost her footing, like that of a proper mentor. The man’s ideals may have been questionable at first, but they'd also been a solid backbone to fall on. When everything else seemed lost, she could go to sleep well knowing that Silco would know what to do, what to say. If there would ever be anything right in the world, it would be that Silco was always right. A simple fact of nature.
Now without him here to say those words she desperately needed, to push her back on her feet, she lacked the desire to get up again.
Like a toy maker or an artist suddenly losing interest in their passion, a strange numb sadness washed over her. How broken must she be, if not even violence could make her feel something. It made her want to giggle, then laugh uncontrollably in a sporadic fit, then cry until her head hurt.
Nothing was right anymore. She couldn't tell left from right, up or down, and no one was there to help her figure it out again. Not anymore.
Jinx heaved herself up from her chair slowly, because she had to eventually. The Enforcer lady was starting to shift a little, groaning as consciousness was coming back to her. Jinx didn't feel like staying long enough to see her anger for herself.
"Powder, what are you…" Vi gazed at her as she stretched her arm out, plucking the Hextech orb whatchamacallit from the cupcake's frosting. Jinx faltered there, caught against Vi's confused and slightly frantic eyes. She was bruised and battered a small bit, small cuts and wounds littering her face. She looked like she'd been thrown down a hill and was forced to climb all the way back up. Jinx would have torn Vi’s eyes out right then and there, if it meant she'd stop staring at her like that.
Too much concern, too much worry, and none of it was for her, didn't she get that already?!
She wanted to let her anger boil over, to spit in her face or yell or something- rather than sag in shame over what she'd become, and what she'd made Vi go through. She felt so, so alone now, and Vi was the last familiar face she could ever see that didn't sneer in hatred at her. At least, not yet. Maybe when Vi got a better grasp at Jinx's true atrocities and realized who she really was ( not Powder, not her ) would she finally stop looking at her with so much unwarranted concern. It pissed her off so much, she wanted to tear open her skin just to show Vi whatever she was trying to find under the surface just wasn't there.
But… it hadn't happened yet. Even with Jinx's insistent pushing for hatred down Vi's throat, she hadn't given way yet. It's bound to happen eventually though, and Jinx had prepared herself for it accordingly.
But it hasn't happened yet. She's not sure she'll see Vi for a while after this stunt, nor does she know if Vi will still feel tolerant enough of her to even stand her company. She'll surely hate her then.
It hasn’t happened yet.
So.
...
So… just once.
Just once, she'll revel in it. Then that's it.
Just… a little one.
She catches the way Vi's eyes grow as Jinx leans in, silently wrapping her skinny arms around the redhead's shoulders and rests her chin against her shoulder. She sags almost immediately against the older of the two, like she'd finally got to lay on a bed after a long day of work. Vi smells like hardwood and pine, like she always has.
Vi tenses at first, seemingly expecting something more violent from the girl, before quickly unwinding against her innocent hold. Even though she's still tied up, the redhead echoes Jinx and sinks her head into her shoulder and a still-tied hand finds purchase against her back. Although restrained, she still hugs Jinx like she's scared to let go again.
Jinx scrunches her eyes as she sinks her head into the other's shoulder, because this hug, this love is all for Powder not Jinx, it could never be for Jinx. Only for Powder, not her. It's not hers.
Vi could never love her like she loved Powder. To Vi, she's a beast wearing a ghost’s skin.
Simple. as. that.
Jinx unwinds herself from Vi and pushes herself off her, the older of the two making a pained noise as the contact ends. The relief and hope is more clear in her eyes now, like she’d been scared to let herself hope so openly beforehand. Jinx let's a small bit of guilt rightfully scorch her, for leading Vi like that and letting her believe. And for letting herself imagine , even if it was just for a second. She'd had to practically shove herself away from the redhead, to ensure she wouldn’t fall too deep in and couldn't get out. If she did, who knows what could have happened.
Jinx was fine, she wasn't a kid anymore and she didn't need her Vi.
Whether Vi thought she was gonna stay, or let herself get turned in because it was ' the right thing to do ' or some junk, she'd be sorely mistaken.
The blue haired Enforcer was properly roused now, and pulling herself up from unconsciousness with a groan. Knowing time was running out, Jinx unsheathed one of her pocket knives and quickly cut out the ropes holding Vi down, before skittishly scattering away back to the other side of the table.
"Caitlyn!" Vi, predictably, launched towards the Enforcer, easing the other up with hushed words of concern. She would have let herself feel some anguish at the action, but there were more pressing matters to deal with. She glanced at Silco, before scrunched her eyes up as if the sight burned her eyes. She turned to the blue Hexcore sitting in her palm, rumbling with blue powerful thunderstorms inside. She still had enough time, if she could just sneak away without drawing attention to herself...
Was… could she still do it? She'd been building Fishsticks for so long, planning this attack for even longer.
She thought about the countless bodies that would result from the attack. Did she have the strength now to laugh away all the emotions that came with them?
Was she really going to throw it away now?
She's not. weak. She's Jinx, the crazy gun-obsessed maniac. She grins at the sight of dead bodies and laughs at mourning families like it's all some big joke. She's a Jinx, stands for jinx.
But… when she tried to imagine exploding the Council, she felt nothing. Sure, the image was as spectacularly gruesome as she imagined it the first time, but that was it. No joy, no urge to giggle with crude glee as she once would have. All she could picture was the roots of her tainted heart and wrapping around her body with a sense of incompleteness.
That's right. Without Silco here, none of her stunts would feel accomplished. No one was there to praise her for them, no one to mutter a quiet "you did good," anymore.
She'd never get to hear his voice again.
She bit back a sob as her shoulders wracked with grief. He was really gone, wasn’t he?
Not once in her life had she really had no one. She'd had Vi and Vander, then just Vi, then Silco. The change had no breathing periods in between, so now for the first time in her life she had no one. No one to tell her what she should and shouldn't do. No one to go back home to. No one except…
She chanced a glance back at Caitlyn and Vi, the former leaning herself against the other for proper support. They were muttering to one another, conversation assumingly serious as both had their eyes furrowed in frowns of concentration. It wasn’t until Caitlyn gave Jinx a quick glance, her sky blue eyes caught against her own. She expected the blue haired girl to scrunch her face in reserved anger or concentration, as she always had done up till this point.
All she found was a general look of both pity and cautionary weariness. There was a small spec of sympathy too, but Jinx might actually pistol-whip herself with Pow-Pow if she focused too hard on that one.
"Jinx," the Enforcer addressed, trying to stand taller and away from Vi as the redhead cursed under her breath. The tense atmosphere from earlier had died down, but it looks like it's resurrection was imminent. 'Looks like I took too long' Jinx thought tiredly.
"I'm not sure what your plan was here, but it's evident it didn't…," she cast a glance at the ruined dinner table. "-go accordingly. I can't promise you anything, as it's out of my jurisdiction, but if you surrender yourself to us and let me arrest you, the consequences for this stunt will not be as severe." She finished eloquently, but even though her eyes are sharp with clear prior training to a situation like this, her voice isn't unkind or brutal as she'd expected from an Enforcer. She sounded like she was bargaining, almost.
"Powder, please." Vi started, "I… I'll admit, I don't know what you could possibly be going through right now but I want to help you, we do. " She pleaded, voice crackling like cinders from a fire, "I've already left you alone for so long, don't let us be separated again."
Jinx blinked, and if the day hadn't been as draining as it had been, she would have laughed. One was pleading, and the other was bargaining. It didn't matter though, Vi was still under the delusion that she was still that dumb little girl who still needed training wheels on everything and Caitlyn was just doing it to make her girlfriend happy. Instead she took a deep breath, and sighed.
"Hey Piltie," Jinx called flatly, "catch."
She flippantly tossed the Hexcore at Cait, the other fumbling with it as if she'd expected a bomb instead. That would have been funny though, if she had thrown one. The look on her face? Priceless.
The pearl shimmered with unawakened power as both girls gazed at it, Vi with furrowed surprise and Cait with shock, then clear-cut confusion, "What are you… why would you give this to us Jinx?" She looked up, sending the girl a perplexed look, "You tore apart Progress Day just to get this… why?"
Jinx blinked, and then shrugged, "I dunno" She mumbled, and it was the first truly truthful thing she'd said that day, "I don't really… feel like hurting anyone right now." Confusion still swirled inside her and hey! Maybe she'll get past this mood and she'll regret this decision, but at the same time…
She chanced another glance at Silco, before trotting over to his still body with a carefully blank look. She carefully undid his jacket, before holding it close to her heart. It was the same jacket she'd worn to sleep when Silco had gone away to off-country meetings. She'd always been happy for his return each time, but Jinx would always be a little heartbroken she she had to give it back.
Looks like she wouldn't have to worry about that anymore.
"Hey" She mumbled silently, turning to the two girls. They had probably been staring at her as she had taken his jacket, Cait looking more openly pitying at Jinx's predicament. She glanced at the blue-haired girl, then at the two of them before managing a cattish grin.
"Sorry for being such a crummy host."
With that, she unsealed a colorful smoke bomb from her belt and tossed it at the ground. She vaguely heard the two girl's shouts as she fled the warehouse.
»»———-♠———-««
Two years later
.
.
.
The crowded streets of Zaun bustled with activity as midday came around, the sun's rays nowhere in sight as the Lane's dark streets were illuminated with neon lights and buzzing streetlights. The biting cold of the late fall season decided to finally set in, a few more barrel-fires present than normal. Paved and dirty gray cobblestone bricked streets sat mostly crowded with well-known criminals and wooden wagons of roadside merchants, the streets loud with overlapping conversations and distant music from local bars. Citizens of all sizes, from towering Smith Ogres to street kids weaving through the crowds of people, were finally flooding back in the streets. Tension in the area finally seemed to be dissipating, and people found it just comfortable enough to start practicing their routine schedules again. After all, nothing can ever be too safe when Enforcers were still prowling the streets.
She gazed up from the hood of her coat, large box shaking with a metal rattle as she held it close to her chest. Two Enforcers passed by her as she silently weaved through the streets, and she couldn't help the small smile that danced on her lips as they passed her without a second glance. What would their reaction be, if they later found out that they had just passed by one of Piltover's most infamous criminals?
Sucker s
Jinx slowed her pace down and ducked into a desolate alleyway, stopping at the fourth door. She didn't worry too much about muggers now, this was the nicer side of the Underground after all. Just as the note instructed, she knocked two times rapidly before two more times rhythmically. She heard distant noises from inside the apartment before quick footsteps found their way to the door. The door's locks were -almost frantically- undone from the inside and a sickly pale lady with long, orange hair opened the door. She had a dirty pink apron tied around her waist and eyebags that darkened half her face.
"Oh thank goodness you're here." She gasped with audible relief, shuffling herself away from the entrance, "Please, come inside. And keep your shoes on please."
Jinx nodded silently, letting the heavy door close behind her. The apartment was small and tattered, rose-patterned wallpaper peeling in most places with a cluttered connected kitchen and living room in the same connecting space. "Don't mind the mess dear," the woman began as Jinx continued to gaze around, "I tell you, when you sent that note saying you had to delay for another three weeks, I had almost gotten a heart attack. I almost made myself think the Enforcers snuffed you out for good." The woman glanced back at her, "They didn't though, right? Oh! Where are my manners, would you like anything to drink sweetheart?" She asked rapidly, carefully stepping over a cluttered pile of boxes.
Jinx blinked blearily, scratching her head as she caught up with the onslaught of questions, "Uh… water is fine. And no Mrs. Thorn, the Enforcers haven't found me yet." Even after four full months of active services, she'd been incredibly careful about covering up her tracks after each job. After all: one false move, and it'd all crumbled from there. She heaved the box up lightly, "Should I give this to him now or…?"
"Hm? Oh!" She rushed back, beckoning her farther in, "Yes, he's right this way. Oh dear, I cannot thank you enough for this. This means the world to us, truly." She said so sympathetically that Jinx glanced down, letting her eyes linger away from the lady and on her worn boots and apartment's wooden flooring. Jinx suddenly wanted to just leave this hunkajunck and bolting. They passed old, faded family portraits as the hallway ended, revealing three peeling white doors, likely older than Jinx herself.
As they stopped at the end of the hallways, Mrs. Thorn hushed down and creaked open the golden door knob. Inside revealed an equally crowded room, sporting an old record playing and a hospital-like bed pushed against the room's wall. Tucked into the bed was an old boy, likely close to the age of seventeen, wearing spectacles and unruly ginger hair not too dissimilar to his mom. He held the latest copy of Piltover's newspaper close, reading it closely. They boy was a tad scruffy, but definitely better off than most kids in Zaun.
At the door's loud sound, the boy glanced up at his mother, then at Jinx with widened eyes, "Mom, you didn't tell me she was coming by today." He murmured, shifting in his bed as he set the newspaper down at it's rusted railing.
"Oh I'm sorry dear, I forgot to remind you." The woman said sympathetically, letting Jinx set the box down at the foot of the bed. "Now c'mon, let's get that sheet off you now."
The old matted bed sheets were lifted to reveal 1.5 pairs of legs, as the boy's right leg stood in stark contrast to the stump of the left one, ending just about five inches before where the foot was supposed to be. The stump had cracked purple and black residue on it's end looking almost like a singed and charred tree stump. A telltale sign of Shimmer rot, a nasty illness formed from exposure to fissure while under the effects of Shimmer.
Jinx pulled out her pocket knife from her heavy boots, tearing open the box. "That looked like it hurt, huh?" She's heard the characteristics of the injury enough from Mrs. Thorn's letters, but seeing it in reality was a whole new level difference. It's fine though, she's been doing this for enough time to be familiar with the sight.
"A little." He murmured, before his lips tugged up in a grin, "Maybe more than a little." The boy laughed, straightening himself up in bed, "That's what you get for working in a Shimmer factory though. Accidents are bound to happen. I was just the sucker to get caught in it."
"Rotten bastard, that Silco." Mrs. Thorn swore suddenly, unapologetically, anger laced in her tone, "Said he wanted to make Zaun independent, but all he did was make half the population dependent on drugs. And then what? Made our kids work in his factories."
"Mom, not now-"
"It's true! God bless that Sevika for stepping up afterwards, shutting down the last of those horrible death factories just a month ago. Late is better than never I suppose," Mrs. Thorn murmured, "At least no more kids will have to suffer at the hands of those anymore. It's like the man designed it to hurt whatever kids stepped in them-"
The box suddenly ripped itself in two, folding like paper as Jinx blinked at it, "Whoopsie," she muttered, eyes dejected downwards as she vehemently made her jaw untense. "Sorry. Don't know my own strength sometimes" She chuckled, though the sound was laced with numbed bitterness.
"Oh it's fine dear," Mrs. Thorn waved dismissively, sighing at her own behavior, "Sorry you had to hear that dear, that man just brings out the worst in me." she huffed, standing back up straight as she dusted her apron, "Anyhow, I'll get you that water while you work. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything." She patted the boy's shoulder once, before rising and taking her leave.
Jinx hummed in acknowledgment as Mrs. Thorn left, heaving the heavy piece of metal up to the bed as the bed creaked.
"Sorry about my mom," the young man mumbled as Jinx undid several leather straps, "She's never been the angry type, but ever since the accident she's never been shy about showing her hatred for that guy. Though, I guess that is most people's opinion on him." He lifted his leg up as Jinx waved a hand at him, aligning the prosthetic with the stump.
Jinx hummed, furrowed her brows in concentration, "Where'd you get a Piltover newspaper? I doubt you coulda walked on down over there yourself." She asked, a small grin pulling on her lips as she readjusted the straps.
Instead of taking offense, the boy laughed heartily, as if she'd said the funniest joke ever, "No, but I wish. My friends caught two Enforcers having lunch, and snatched it for me. They know I love keeping up with Piltover news."
Jinx hummed in acknowledgment, nose scrunched in concentration, "Good friends," she murmured, tightening the screws slightly. "Ok, try lifting it now."
The boy nodded and followed the command, staring in amazement as the sleek black prosthetic followed the boy's movements, even having it's toes curl up in tandem. The boy was caught in a trance as wonder filled his eyes.
"Wanna take it for a spin?" Jinx suggested, cutting the boy from his trance. He nodded wildly, shifting his body so that it faced the end of the bed.
Water dripped from the leaky faucet dispelling out black murky water as Mrs. Thorn frowned down at it. Light footsteps made their way from the bedroom behind her as she picked up the glass.
"Oh sorry if I was taking too long with your water dear, sometimes the water gets a little filthy and I have to filter it out myself-"
"Mom?" A quiet voice cut her off.
The lady froze in shock, before turning and facing the two young adults that peaked against her kitchen doorway. One was grappling and finding purchase on the arm of the smaller of the two, two wobbly legs shaking yet most definitely standing. He took a step forward without his cane, arms spread out like he was trying to balance himself.
The cup she was holding slipped out of her hand, shattering against the tiled floor as the mother bound up to her son, hugging him with such ferocity as she chanted wobbly, "Oh my God, oh my goodness my boy, oh thank God."
Jinx stepped back, giving the two some proper space. She looked down blankly at the shattered cup of water meant for her, sitting there on the floor all but forgotten.
---
"Is this truly all you want dear? Just two days ago I heated up some proper spaghetti and meatballs. I could let you take some if you'd like." Mrs. Thorn, one again, insisted. Of course she would, after providing what was likely a life-saving miracle for her son, she'd find it strange that the only thing Jinx wanted was a heavy bag full of busted electronics and scrap metal.
Jinx sloshed the bag around, please to hear the bolts and batteries clinching together. Just as she was about to deny the ladies' kind offer, her stomach gave a loud growl at the prospect of a warm meal. Her words died in her mouth, and Mrs. Thorn grinned a small smug smile as she excused herself to pack the meal.
"What are you even going to do with all those scraps?" Mrs. Thorn's son asked, leaning on one of the living room's cabinets. You'd be surprised to learn the boy had been beyond not even two hours earlier. His knees were still shaking like that of a newborn fawns, but he insisted on remaining upright.
"You'd be surprised at what magical things you can make with just a little bit of metal and a whole lot of ingenuity. Home-made lights, clocks, prosthetic limbs," bombs, "-whole lotta cool stuff." She explained simply.
Steph whistled, seemingly impressed with the lady's arsenal of skills, "Sounds hard. Maybe I should start doing that though, I've always wanted to make my own stuff. I don't suppose you're open to sharing scraps though are you?"
Jinx grinned, flicking the guy on the head, "You can steal them on your own now. Maybe you can even sneak into Piltie land and get your own newspaper now."
Steph let out a honk of a laugh, and Jinx wonders when was the last time she managed to make someone laugh like this. "Here, I got you something," he said suddenly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out two folded sheets of paper, "I know you said you didn't need anything else, but I really wanted to thank you. My mom and I don't have a lot, and since you seemed so interested in them I… wanted to give them to you." He extended both papers out, Jinx carefully examining them, "I mostly read while I was bed-ridden, it's good practice and it's not like there's a whole lotta do anyways. These let me stay connected to the world, in my own way."
Jinx glanced up, twirling the paper in her hands. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly missing any limbs. I'm plenty connected with reality." Nowadays , at least.
One folded paper was from Zaun, while the other was from Piltie. Both newly dated, and a rare treasure to find in a place like the Underground. Most flammable items were scary around the beginning of winter anyways.
"I'll keep 'em though," Jinx smirked, pocketing it back into her coat's pocket, "Just in case I do end up losing a limb or something and get bored."
Mrs. Thorn came back then, a plastic bag tied tightly as steam emitted from the top. Jinx fumblingly thanked her for her kindness, and was unfortunately met with the same gratitude of " You truly don't know how much this means to us" blah blah blah.
"If you need to reach my services, write a postage delivery for Ziggs's junk market. I go by the name Bluebell there." Jinx rummaged over herself, pulling the scratchy scarf back up her chin, "And don't write or talk to anyone about me unless you trust them to keep a secret. I was never here Mrs. Thorn. Unless you want Enforcers breathing down both our necks, I tell you to take this seriously" She reminded her grimly. She never particularly liked this part, but it was essential. She only took up jobs she could trust enough to keep their mouths shut.
Mrs. Thorn, despite the threat, smiled warmly, "I understand sweetheart. You're secrecy is very important, and after all you've done to us, it's the least I can do. You're always welcomed here, so please visit." She ruffled the younger's hair and Jinx reveled in the affection, frozen at first before leaning into it. Her smile dimmed slightly as she gazed at Jinx's eyes. She must have showed or done something wrong then, because a small voice of concern suddenly peaked up.
"Sweetheart dear, do you have… anyone to go back home to?" Mrs. Thorn asked suddenly.
Jinx gaped at the question, already down a few steps as she looked back up to the mother and son with a small, sad smile, "Good day, Mrs. Thorn." Jinx whispered politely.
Heated meal in one hand, scrap metal in the other, she waved goodbye at the two, tugging her scarf up as fog escaped each of her breaths as she trudged through the homey Zaun streets.
---
The Outskirts of the Underground tended to be underpopulated, as resources like metal, iron, and victims to prey upon lessened, so did the people. The toxic fissure was still as bad, If not even worse, but Jinx had suffered worse.
"Honey, I'm home," she muttered, jamming open the door with a bruising force. She locked the door of the small, musty apartment and flickered on the lights to reveal a cluttered and old living room. Empty stacked takeout boxes and sketchbooks were left strewn around the couch and coffee table, while the walkway remained cluttered with half-finished projects.
Empty . Mrs. Thorn's words bobbed back up in her mind, and all Jinx could do was sigh is resignation.
Jinx… has changed a lot over these short months. Sometimes the name feels like a necklace of gold around her neck, the brash temptation to show it off to others is there. Sorta like a ' Yeah Motherfucker! I'm Jinx! I blew up Piltover and I have the power to do it again! Don't you dare for a second underestimate me!
But now, that brash and crude glee she got from other's cowering felt so stale now. She's always felt more comfortable in Jinx's character, because Jinx never needs to think about things too hard. The urge to slip back into a maniacal psycho is strong, but she's different now. Things are different.
If there was any key and most important skill she learned from her period after Silco's death was self-awareness.
Maybe it's a side-effect of laying low for so long, or maybe 'laying low' is still an excuse for not having to hurt anyone for a bit. If she were ever thrust back into the limelight, what would become of her? Would she revert back to what she's known for so long, that angry, uncontrollable natural disaster that destroyed everything it touched?
What if she… never came out of hiding? Would she be stuck in this domestic life, spent alone and in a routine fashion for the rest of her life? She couldn't decide which possibility scared her more.
And then of course, there's Bluebell.
Bluebell, unlike Powder and Jinx, are not identities. Bluebell is a mask, a codename to be exact. To be fair, Jinx wasn't thinking to clearly when she had taken the plunge in this decision.
Do you make prosthetics to look at them all happy, to know that if you took it away again they'd be left so defenseless and weak again? Does it make you feel powerful?
" Shut up ." Jinx bit out, glaring daggers at the curdling shadows scribbles of her apartment. She couldn't make out the voices from one another, and she didn't really care enough to try to. The shadows morphed and singed at her, taunting and hateful as ever.
"Go to hell, you don't know anything about me." She sneered again, and the shadows seemed to glower slightly, resigning themselves to gazing with silent judgment.
She- Bluebell wants to help people. Bluebell helps people for scraps of metal and nothing else. No money to charge those poor mucks who already have nothing else, no strings attached to any Enforcer junk either. She uses the scraps to make bombs, and to tinker in her studio occasionally. She doesn't use them though, as the magenta and blue explosions we're Jinx's colorful signature to any violent crime that she should probably be avoiding while laying low. Instead, she sells her bombs to her dear friend yordle Ziggs, as she is his main supplier for high quality bombs.
This has been her life for a full year, and for the first time in a while, she feels like she can breathe in her own skin. She always assumed Jinx would hate routine, caught up in the horrible monotony of an everyday schedule would set off a mental implosion of sorts. Surprisingly, it wasn't nearly as bad as she'd thought it'd be.
It's not bad at all. The voices we're still there and annoying as ever, but she doubted they'd ever go away.
Maybe because… She was finally allowing herself to break free from the past. She wasn't hurting anyone right now, a constant action throughout her whole life. Vander. Mylo. Claggor. Those names… thinking about them now still brings pain, but it's not all-consuming and gut wrenching as it once would have been. It hurts, because they were there, and now they simply aren't. It's been two years since she's been all on her own, and maybe that's all she needed. Time to just... let it sink.
They aren't here because she- Powder killed them. Powder ruined her own life with the dumb monkey bomb.
"It was an accident," Jinx whispered brokenly, eyes downcast as her fingers clenched and unclenched. "I'm sorry."
Mylo, Claggor, Vander.
They were there, and now they weren't.
"I'm sorry." Jinx echoed.
It's been awhile since she's heard their voices through her fogged mind. She thinks if she focuses on the shadows enough though, she can make out their forms from time to time.
She inhaled deeply, before releasing the breath quietly. She shouldn't think so hard anymore, especially about what's dead in the past. No choice but to look forward now.
"Good afternoon Fishbones," she greeted politely, passing the hung mantle that held up the missile launcher. "Hope you didn't have too much fun without me here." She chanced a glance up as she set the table, Fishbones staring down at her with his signature shark-toothed frown.
See! Take that Mrs. Thorn!! I'm not lonely, I can never be while Fishbones is here.
She grinned toothily, mood suddenly replenished with the statement. She wormed her way out of her trench coat, small flakes of powdery snow falling off as she let it drop to the floor. She bounded over to her self-made Jukebox, and turned on some tunes. It was some dumb and boring Poltie Orchestra, a tune much too monotonous for her to properly shred to. It made for good background noise though, anything to outdo the silence.
Kicking her boots off, she sat herself down and unwrapped the plastic bag to reveal a still-steamy container. Her mouth watered as she popped it open, shoveling a warm bite into her mouth as she hummed in euphoria. Man, if Mrs. Thorn really allowed Jinx to return if she wanted to, maybe she could have her over for a proper dinner sometime.
She dug through her pockets mid-bite, intending to find her keys and set them down, only to come in contact with two folded up papers. She paused, and slowly brought her hand back up to her face. Two folded newspapers met her eyes, folded into two thick squares so they could fit inside of a pocket. She continued chewing, undoing the Zaun newspaper first. Might as well have some entertainment while she ate.
She unfurled the paper, revealing a large, slightly dirty brown newspaper, a coffee stain present in its front page. It smelled a little like ash and soot, the staple smell of a Zaunite merchant store.
"OVERSEER OF THE UNDERGROUND, SEVIKA XXXX, MAKING PEACE WITH PILTOVER. THE PROMISE OF INDEPENDENCE. " were the first words printed on the Newspaper's cover, a blurry image of the lady standing beside a council Emmerich present under it. "While proceedings with the Overseer and the Council's members have mostly remained private, Counselor Jayce Talis, sworn in just four years ago, has publicly announced that they are providing dealings with Zaun so that peace between the two would finally be ensured."
"Back at it again, huh Progress Boy…" ugh. She never imagined that boar Sevika would be a schmoozer for some prissy Pilties before, the general always seemed too good for that type of crap. Guess she was a follower, through and through. Jinx shoveled another pity in her mouth.
"In light of the Overseer's recent decision to shut down widespread Shimmer production, we are left to wonder if this action was a demand from the Council or a personal choice on behalf of the new Overseer. While not specifically addressing it, Counselor Talis's words do bring into question Zaun's permanent independence and breakage from the city. Will this possible treaty promise Zaun's independence? We conducted a survey and asked our readers what-"
"Ugh. Boring!" She whined with her mouth full, skimming over the page's long words.
"-ght of recent butchering's alongside the Zaun grey alleys, we urge our readers to remain vigilant and avoid traveling alone."
Jinx's eye's widened in interest, "Ooooo! What's this about?" Jinx wondered, leaning back in to absorb the information.
"-Whether this rising threat is a possible up-and-coming serial killer or a new fissure disease, not enough is known to draw any solid conclusions as of now. An anonymous doctor's analysis has stated that the remains found at the scenes we're closer to 'what one would find outside of a Butcher's shop', the remains bearing a resemblance to minced meat. Neither Overseer Sevika nor any Piltover Officials have addressed this issue as of the present date, many outraged citizens claiming that they will continue to not address it until "the body count touches the roof"."
"A serial killer, huh?" Jinx pondered out loud. She wasn't particularly too concerned for her safety, Jinx never left home without Pow-Pow and at least four bombs on her. Those were more of a last resort though. And diseases -Jinx can personally note since her job kinda requires medical knowledge- never tended to violently mutilate humans either, so that was a plus.
The idea of going after whatever-it-was that was mincing schmucks on the streets wasn't a particularly smart idea. Jinx never took herself for the vigilante type either, since something like a savior complex always seemed so boring and stupid anyways. Who in their right mind sacrifices themselves just to save someone else? Jinx was a little insane, but not stupid.
But if she did by chance end up coming across it, she wouldn't mind picking a fight or two.
With dear sister living it up in Snores-vile and Sevika too busy kissing the Piltie's shiny shoes, someone's gotta keep an eye out for the poor old schmucks of Zaun. A self-satisfied grin tugged at her face.
Would Vander be proud of me? For... thinking that?
The sudden thought made Jinx still, hands crumpling the newspaper she was holding slightly. The ink-pressed words seemed to blur against the page as her eyes misted over, a few tears escaping her eyes as she scrunched them together.
-What do you think? That now that you're kissing the small little heads of poor orphan kids and thinking about killing murders instead of everyday citizens, he'll suddenly forgive you for destroying everything around you? Who do you thin-
"I miss him," she mumbled truthfully, and the admission felt tantamount to a breakdown for Jinx. The voices seemed to feel the weight of the words too, as they suddenly quieted in volume and writhed away from her ears.
She missed him. A lot, actually.
And that was that. Like a paleontologist blowing the dust away from an old, sacred rune, the statement felt like she'd cleared another part of her mind away and discovered a piece of wonder once thought lost to time.
Except, there was no wonder to be found. No sense of clarity, nor did she suddenly have a ground-breaking epiphany. Because it was simply the truth, one she'd known for so long but seldom acknowledged, especially when Silco came around. Silco may have ( and always will be) been her real father, through thick and thin, but Vander was her first one. He had tucked her in when she was still little, had been reassuring and encouraging whenever she messed up with her tinker-toys, even knew that offering a fresh glass of orange juice was always a sure way to cheer her up.
He may have looked like a brute on the outside, but underneath that towering strength was a man with a soft heart and a mind completely dedicated to his adopted children.
And what did she do to the kind man?
She killed him.
"Sorry," she mumbled, glancing at where the lines and shadows drew Vander's towering form. He wasn't hounding her now, just simply gazing at her in the shadows with a feeling of melancholy.
Jinx sighs and lowers the newspaper, letting her face bury into her hands. Is this what Vi feels when she thinks of Vander? Had she been neglecting the misery of his death for so long, too overcome by guilt to really realize he was forever and truly gone?
She missed him. She missed Silco too. No one was left to look over her shoulder now.
.
.
.
The clock ticked as the record continued to play a soft melody, time passing slowly as the remaining food on her plate went cold. Jinx remained still for a while too, before raggedly breathing in and out and slowly removing her hands from her face. When had she gotten so tired? She crumbled the Zaun newspaper into a ball, while haphazardly pushing the Piltover one back into the pocket of her trench coat, deciding to save it for some other time.
Time passed without a care for anyone else, and the sun rose and set without uncertainty. The world spun, waiting for no one else to catch up.
Jinx blearily rose, sniffing one last time as the bags under her eyes weighed her down like gravity. They'd seemed to be stuck that way for a while now.
She glanced at a homemade clock of hers. The sun was due to set soon. She could probably squeeze in maybe six more bombs now in her studio if she worked fast enough, and then get four- maybe five hours of sleep afterwards. If she was lucky.
Jinx had learned early into her laying-low period that letting the days pass by while stuck in bed wouldn't change much reality wise. It was a slightly painful- but necessary lesson to learn in her solitude. No one else was going to wait for her to get up anymore.
She had to do things for herself now, not for anyone else.
The world passed by and changed, and Jinx intended to keep up with it on both her feet.