Work Text:
The dimly lit room that Jinx called her own was a kaleidoscope of chaos.
Neon colors were splattered across the walls in erratic patterns, each stroke a burst of manic energy, each stroke contributing to her art.
Jinx sat cross-legged in the center of the giant fan, a can of spray paint in one hand and a wrench in the other, both tools of her peculiar brand of art. She hummed a disjointed melody, the once beautiful tune slipping and cracking between notes of innocence and madness.
She was painting a mural. Familiar faces began to take shape, and she hummed as she examined the piece.
"Do you see it?" she asked, glancing around the room. "Do you like it?"
They were with her.
The shadows in the edges of the dimly lit room seemed to shift, morphing into the familiar shapes of her past - of Powder's past.
Mylo leaned against the far wall, his smirk as cocky as ever.
Claggor sat by the door, watching her with crossed arms.
And Vi... Vi stood closest to Jinx, her figure half-illuminated, half-lost to the darkness.
She couldn't see any of their eyes, their features all melding with the shadows and becoming indecipherable.
Jinx twirled the spray can, letting the colors flow freely as she hummed. Each hiss of the paint was a whisper, a voice from her memories. "They're all here," she murmured, her gaze flitting between the phantoms in the shadows and the art on the wall. "You're all here. We're a family again..."
Powder wasn't here anymore, the last missing piece of their puzzle, but Jinx fit in much better.
She jumped up and turned to Mylo, his figure flickering like a faulty light bulb as the shadows twisted and grew. "You always thought I was useless," she said, her voice a mix of accusation and yearning as she pranced towards him, her braids swinging behind her. "But look at me now. I’m strong. I’m powerful." Mylo's smirk widened, but his eyes remained shadowed, unreadable.
She was strong now. He had called Powder clumsy, he had said Powder was bad luck.
He had called her a Jinx.
She would show him, she would show them all, that she wasn't weak.
She wasn't Powder anymore.
Claggor's form seemed to shift closer as she turned away from Mylo, his presence a comforting weight in the oppressive gloom. "Claggor," she whispered, her voice breaking as she reached a paint-spattered hand out towards him.
She knew that if she went closer, he would fade away before her searching fingers could touch him.
"You believed in me, didn't you?" She whispered, and her voice sounded more like Powder than Jinx. "You always tried to make me feel better." The shadow of Claggor nodded, a silent affirmation that brought tears to her eyes as she sniffled.
She missed them. It was good, that they were all together again.
He was wearing his goggles, and they were shattered, hiding his eyes behind spiderwebs of broken glass and spots of blood.
And then... there was Vi.
Jinx's heart ached as she looked at her sister, the sister who had promised to protect her, the sister who has abandoned her. The sister who had called her a Jinx and then vanished.
She was a Jinx, wasn't she?
"Vi…" she breathed, reaching out. Her fingers brushed empty air as Vi slipped away into the shadows, but in her mind, she felt the warmth of Vi's hand. She sank to her knees, her hand still outstretched. "Why did you leave me? Powder needed you. I still need you."
Silco said she didn't need Vi anymore, Silco said he was all Jinx needed, but...
Vi’s ghostly figure seemed to shimmer with regret, her bandaged and bloodied hand reaching out from the shadows, outstretched towards Jinx. "Powder," the phantom whispered, the voice a fragile echo in the silence. "I..."
Jinx recoiled, the name a painful reminder of her lost innocence. "No!" she shrieked, shaking her head violently as she looked away from the shadows, away from Vi. "I’m not Powder. I’m Jinx!"
Powder fell down a well, all because of Vi.
She stood abruptly, her movements jerky and wild. The paint can flew from her hand as she threw it into the shadows and heard it slam into the far wall with enough room to dent it and explode, splattering the surrounding wall with paint. "You see?" she shouted to the empty room, her voice rising to a fever pitch. "I am strong! Jinx doesn’t need anyone!"
The shadows didn't answer her - but she didn't need them.
The colors on the walls seemed to pulse with her fury, the faces of her loved ones distorting, mocking her. Their teeth became as sharp as daggers, their faces morphed into those of horrific monsters, their fingers stretched out into lethally sharp claws as they towered over her.
Her chest heaved, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she swung the wrench blindly, smashing it into a nearby contraption. The sound of metal on metal was deafening, drowning out the whispers in her mind.
Why wouldn't they leave her alone?
In the aftermath, Jinx fell to her knees, the wrench slipping from her grasp. She clutched her head, rocking back and forth. "Stop it, stop it, stop it," she chanted, her voice a desperate plea. The illusions wavered, their forms blending into the chaotic backdrop. "Shut up!"
For a brief moment, clarity pierced through the haze.
And then...
Jinx looked up, her hands falling from where they had been covering her eyes, and Powder looked back at her from the shadows.
Powder's voice, small and broken, emerged from the depths. "I’m so sorry," she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she held a small bloodied hand to her soot-stained cheek. "I just wanted to help. I just wanted to save them."
She wasn't supposed to be here! Jinx was here now, and Powder was gone.
Jinx snatched up the wrench laying discarded at her feet, and hurled it at the girl.
The wrench disappeared into the shadows and fell down, down, down.
The shadows fell silent, and Jinx was alone.
The only sound was of Jinx's ragged breathing and the creaking of metal.
But as quickly as it came, the moment of lucidity vanished, swallowed by the storm of madness that had haunted her ever since Powder died. Jinx's eyes snapped open, the manic grin that was becoming a permanent resident on her lips returning. She picked up a fresh can of paint, shaking it vigorously as she grinned. "Let’s make some more art," she giggled, turning back to the walls.
In the dance of colors and shadows around her room, Jinx found her twisted solace, a fractured reality where she was never truly alone.
As she sang along to her music and made her art, giggling and dancing across her hide-out,the shadows kept her company.
They were family, of course, and family didn't abandon family.