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Jinx has had a very eventful week.
Powder’s had too many changes, it was overwhelming.
Silco—having recently taken over the Undercity since Vander’s death—took Jinx to the Last Drop to grab some things she wanted. It was mostly stuffed animals, scrap metal. Wires, and crayons. Lots of crayons. Hair clips and hair ties, because Powder didn’t like her hair being unbraided, and neither did Jinx.
Now, Jinx had a bedroom. A fancy bed. But she always just sat in Silco’s office. Up on the beams that were above his desk, or in a chair fiddling with some crayons and paper. Sometimes bombs, because despite the… incident, Silco had encouraged her to keep working on them.
And he had noticed she was in there all day. She didn’t keep herself hidden from him. He had to find her a hobby. Get his hands on some better bomb supplies. For her—not himself, because he had figured it was lonely for her. She didn’t like anybody else, and she didn’t have anybody else.
Silco had been talking with Sevika about mission plans. Sevika understood what Silco saw in Jinx, but she could not help but be pissed at the kid for literally nuking their shimmer supply with her pretty little monkey bomb.
Jinx heard it. They were arguing right outside Silco’s office. He would get irritated with her everytime she talked shitty about Jinx. And that only fueled Sevika’s fire, so Sevika wouldn’t get any quieter. It reminded her of Mylo and Vi.
Eventually they had quieted down. Silco’s office door swung open, shutting with a tiny bit of force. Not a slam. But he wasn’t gentle with it.
A cabinet opened, and a glass was grabbed—along with a bottle. Fancy whiskey. Jinx had opened the cabinet a few days ago when Silco wasn’t in his office, and she recognized some of it from what Vander sells—sold at the Last Drop.
Silco took a seat in his chair, gazing at the paperwork off on the right side of his desk and huffing. He scooted his swivel chair closer to his desk, stopping when his foot nudged something under his desk. He moved his chair back to get a glance.
“…Jinx?” Silco muttered her name. She sat with her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around and buried in the far corner under his desk.
“…Hi.” Jinx replied softly. Her messy hair framed her face, yet her bangs not overgrown just enough to hide her tired, distressed expression.
Silco placed his glass on the desk. The alcohol stirred, settling quickly. He leaned forwards, elbows on his knees to get a closer look at her. “What are you doing down there? At this hour?”
Jinx turned her head away. She lowered her hands, fiddling with the hem of her pajama pants-leg. “…I couldn’t sleep. I snuck in here when you and Sevika were talking.”
“…Ah.” Silco looked at her for a second. He reached out a hand to comb the mess out of some of her hair, tucking that behind her ear. “Did we wake you?”
”…Maybe.” She replied hesitantly. They had. She’s silent for a minute. “Sevika scares me.”
That made Silco’s eyebrow raise. “Scares you?” He asks, leaning back and beckoning her to sit in his lap.
“Yeah..” Jinx climbs out from under his desk. She almost bumps her head, but he places his hand between the desk and her head to prevent that. She settles in his lap with her legs stretched over his.
Jinx rests her head against his shoulder. ”She has a mean voice. And she’s loud a lot.” Like Mylo, Powder thought. Then she took that thought back, because it was mean to say about him. And also because Mylo was dead, and she didn’t want to think about that.
”Mm. She can be quite obnoxious sometimes.”
Silco places his hand on the back of her bedhead—calmly combing out the tangles with his fingers—, the other holding her legs in his lap.
”…Do I scare you?” He had to ask. Sevika had an intimidating, fearsome voice. And appearance. Silco had both of those down-pat, plus the power of the entire Undercity, now.
”…No. Maybe—“ Jinx cycles through her options. “—at first. But only for a second. ‘Cause you had a knife.”
”I did, didn’t I?” Silco recalls. He had attempted to hide it for cruel reasons. He was not that cruel. He kept it hidden to not scare her away, but it seems nothing slips past her.
Jinx hums out a tiny ‘mhm’.
“…Not anymore?” He asked.
”Not anymore.” She echoes, confirming.
…
“Any new bombs, yet?”
Jinx hummed. “They’re in my room… But yes.”
Silco continued combing out her hair, careful to work gently with the larger tangles. “Yes? What have you drawn on them?”
“Mmm,” She thought about it, remembering. “I made a lion-bear monster. His name is Maximus.”
”Oh my. Fearsome.” Silco raised his eyebrows, intrigued. Children had such creative minds.
Jinx giggled a little at his comment. “I made a shark named Chompers. She’s flying through space.” She moved her hand through the air like a swimming shark.
”…A narwhal named Pokey. She’s best friends with Chompers, and lives in the ocean.”
”Ah. Is there a reason why they’re so far apart?” Silco asked, wanting to hear the story.
Jinx hummed. “It’s cause Chompers studied to be an astronaut. Pokey didn’t want her to leave and go to space, and Chompers was determined, so…”
Jinx went on to tell the story between the two sea creatures as Silco combed out her hair. A couple stories later, Jinx was out like a light in his lap.
Silco shifted his arms. He had finished some of the paperwork while she was asleep in his lap. But she had to go back to bed at some point.
He carried her gently, one arm under her legs, the other under her back. Her bedroom was not a very far walk. He opens the door quietly, trying to do so without disturbing Jinx.
Silco lays her down on her bed, pulling the blankets over her.
“…Sleep well.” He whispered. She was a very heavy sleeper.
Silco stood up from the bed, looking over at the desk. All her bombs were scattered on it. As well as some unfinished ones.
Silco steps closer. He recognized the creatures from her descriptions, but there were two bombs with drawings that caught his eye. A girl with blue hair, and a man with a fancy red-orange eye.
”…Huh.” He grabbed the one of himself. Silco glanced back at Jinx—who was dead asleep, already adjusting to her comfortable bed by sprawling out across it—then back at the bomb.
How creative.