#cheaos

(😭😭😭)

̗̀ะ໒⋮━ FOR PEOPLE WHO DON'T SAY MUCH

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She winces at that. Yeah, this is turning into quite the one-sided conversation, isn't it? Riven wasn’t even sure why the blue-haired stranger kept talking to her—honestly, she’s long since tuned the woman out, only to snap back to reality and realize she’s still going on.

How long has it been since she made the mistake of responding to that offhand comment about pushing the noisy guy off the ship? What were they even talking about two seconds ago? She runs a hand over her face, letting out a slow sigh as her shoulders slump. It doesn’t look like the ship they’re hitting land any time soon either. Perfect.

Joyous noises can be heard as she gets spun around, laughter echoing around the room as she feels the rush of being spun around. Really, Jinx was the coolest ever! The best thing to ever happen to her, the streets were cold. Lonely… boring really. She was always scarred or afraid of who would kick her to the side next. Who would hurt her next, who she had to bite next. But then she met Jinx… she heard how others spoke of her, and she doesn’t understand it. They treat her like a demon but her mama taught her that even the demons were once angels. Whatever that meant, she still didn’t understand nor did she feel a care to.

“ SIS! “ Words not in her home language were hard to verbalize despite understanding them, her tongue still finds Chinese much easier to speak but; English is coming very very slowly but surely. Besides… she didn’t like to talk much anyways.

At the mention of the rematch, a new found look of pride emerged on her face as she reverted to signing instead of speaking. It was harder to speak.

❝ mm'okay, nah, i did the math—figured it was about time i showed up for you and made the seconds count, ❞ he quipped, his tone carrying a soft spark of humor as he thumbed the unpainted nose tip. toned, svelte arms crossed over his chest, the extra weight of his trusty gear on the small of his back settled his posture into an easy slant, grounding his confidence. nothing about this was going to go south—not on his watch.

best case scenario? the air gets blasted with the foul stench of overly fried fish that'll linger around the area for day, and no piltie gets summoned by the noise to throw a bitch fit. worst case? well, within the small, contained, world-shaping marvel of his z-drive—its mystical blue orb pulsing with extraordinary energy—even the tiny parade of sculpted monkeys inside seemed eager to turn any chaotic circus into an amusing playback, setting every inconvenience right.

hoota sighed, amusement flickering across his face at her wacky thought. ❝ your helmet's on too tight, ❞ hoota quipped, giving the large, graffiti-ridden helmet a light slap that nearly sent it sliding off powder's equally big head. he raised a finger to his small russet lips, signaling for to keep quiet, lest they get caught. the last thing they needed was for some uppity fat-pocket to catch sight of two misplaced ruffians and summon the authorities. ❝ pin it, powder! ❞ he whispered urgently.

children from the dung-end of society tended to go missing up top, but was the last thing on his mind. the only two things hoota dreaded were coming up empty-handed from this unwise adventure and benzo ringing his ears until he was deaf.

a more sensible planner might've thought it stupid to bring powder onto something like this—and maybe roped heavy muscle like vi instead. but this was powder, his day-one, and closest peer. he wouldn't pass up the chance to hang with her. benzo usually kept him busier than a factory slave, but the youngin's hard work in the sweatshop had paid off greatly enough to get him a short break from his uncle-figure's stubby mitts. and now, with this rare bit of freedom, he was set on using his short-term vacation to snag whatever valuables he could swipe from generous pilties.

the journey up hadn't been easy, navigating zaun's crumbling fissures and endless levels of foul-laden trenches until they made it to the sunlit land of piltover. up here, breathing was noticeably different; the heavy, oppressive fist that held their lungs hostage every day dissipated as if it had never entered his system and hid there since his birth, replaced by crisp, clean air that filtered in his small chest for what felt like the first time. if only they could grab it with their small hands and bring it back, many lives would be enriched.

but as tempting as plotting to steal air was, it was the goods on his mind that was of immediate concern. sticking to the edges of rooftops in the academy district, their movements aimed to be catlike, spying on the crowds below. hoota stopped at the edge of the last building of the block, glancing across the street to the ornate school where kids their age piled in like ants to honeydew. a thought popped into his head, and a foxish grin crept across his face.

❝ yo, what do you think about goin' there? ❞ he inquired, nudging powder and pointing to the academy. the academic institution was bound to be wealthy with materials for the shop, not to mention other curious curiosities. even when he was on vacation, hoota was working. ❝ i'm thinkin' we could score some... but shoot! we'll need disguises. hmmm, ❞ he hummed thoughtfully, the ticker in his brain starting to tick faster, inching asinine thought closer and closer to the forefront of his head.

A groan escapes the blue haired devil's mouth, leaning all the way back in her seat. Tilting back until it nearly falls over before sitting up properly abruptly. Patience isn't and never will be her STRONG SUIT, maybe when Powder still DARED to breath within her mind she was a bit more patient but, not anymore.

Powder is dead. Dead. Dead.Dead DeaD DEAD DEAD.

She's Jinx now.

Powder was a rotting corpse within the confines of her heart. Oh how little room she has in her heart now, because letting someone in close? It's a spell for hurt. it is, really. Afterall, she was so young and naive to ever think Vi would love her. To think Vi didn't believe she was a JINX. To ever even hope that anyone could understand her.

As EXASPERATED as she is, she manages to snap out of her millions of thoughts and listens to her father. Absorbing his words and feeling them in her core. The buzz, the rush of the idea of being the hunter. A sickeningly sweet feeling of watching SHEEP tremble in fear as they have no idea what she may bring next. Only for her to strike finally. To watch the blood pool at her feet. It's absolutely thrilling, so of course, she considers his words carefully. Smiling now as compared to a pout, especially as he tells her that she can go continue her WORK.