#jynxd

Satisfaction was all too often earned through pain and frustration. He knew this well after Vander, and even more so after the trouble with the Firelights. He had expected confrontations and scuffles along the way to securing his empire of shimmer within Zaun, but he hadn't expected such a large fly to nestle itself into his ointment. Time after time again, he had faced reports of failed deliveries and disrupted smuggling plans. It was enough to give anyone a headache, even him. Eventually, he was certain, the satisfaction of capturing their troublesome leader would be his.

And he wasn't mistaken. All it would take was some time and escalation.

What he had not expected was their level of resourcefulness. Not only had they discovered one of his shimmer plants, they had found out which days he went to inspect it. He had been flanked by two of his best men as he walked through the manufacturing lines, paying little attention to the underage workers moving and processing his drugs. They were all parts of the grand machine fueling Zaun's soon-to-come independence. Their parents should have been proud, if any of them had parents at all. Then, amongst the crowds of juvenile faces, he spotted a mask.

Before his men could react, they were set upon by at least a dozen of the Firelights, mounted atop their hoverboards and armed with blunt objects like pipes, nail-spiked planks, and dulled blades. While his men set to protecting him, they were easily taken down by crystal bombs, pinning them to the metal grate flooring of the catwalks. Silco, now left to defend himself, reached for his knife and shouted an order to activate the chemtank guards.

It was chaos. Firelights swarmed about him, all of them ready to take their swings. A few hits landed, with one particularly painful strike to his shoulder with a nail-ridden wooden board. He was able to pay that back in kind by slashing the neck of its wielder. As soon as the chemtank guards were activated by a child worker, the fight was his. He watched as they leapt from wall to wall, picking the Firelights down one by one with brutal efficiency.

Out of all of them, only one was left, battered, bruised, and bloodied from the battle. It was time to gather information, then. He gave the signal of a whistle and snap of his fingers, and the programmed obedience of the chemtank guards kicked in. They stopped their attack, hauntingly shifting to a more idle state as he approached the downed firelight. "Well, well. Aren't you a strong one." He knelt down on one knee to peer down at him. His eyes grew wide when he recognized the mask from descriptions. "Ahhh, so you must be the leader of this little group. I have so many questions to ask you." A smile grew on his slim lips.

  He had only just gotten used to the hidden firelight sanctuary a couple of days ago. The clear air and sunlight reminded him more of Piltover, but there was no denying that this was Zaun, his home. He’d been given a small room, with enough space for the few belongings he had. The Hexcore, meanwhile, while tied to him, was left in containment at the doctor’s lab. It made him anxious to leave it alone with that kind of a man, but he was also his only resource for understanding the device’s capabilities.

 Taken to daily walks to get fresh air and move himself, Viktor had decided to visit Ekko’s workshop to see what he was up to. When he rounded the corner, he was certain the clunk of his crutch would let Ekko know he was there, so he didn’t bother knocking. Ekko heard him, it seemed, but when he turned to face him, there was a shocked look on his face. Worried he might have startled him, Viktor cushioned it with, “Working on something new?”

 Ekko jumped from his chair, and the response he got was one of pleading, along with a strange, out of left-field reminder that he was‘dead’. “I… No, I don’t think so.” He cautiously looked Ekko over, noticing the tears streaming down his skin. Whatever was going on, it was causing the young man such a pain that Viktor’s chest ached with guilt. “Ekko… Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” He wasn’t that ghoulish looking, was he?

The metal beneath her feet is a graveyard of glass shards, spent bullet casings, and blue hair, discarded in clumps around her boots. She stands in front of the cracked mirror, her chest heaving as she finishes one slow pass of the clipper buzzing within her hand. Her reflection watches her, fractured into a dozen mismatched pieces by the spiderweb of cracks running across the mirror’s surface. For once, it isn’t mocking her, isn’t grinning like it knows something she doesn’t. The smudged makeup dripping down her cheeks makes her look haunted, gaunt, and maybe that’s what she is—haunted. By ghosts, by voices, by herself.

She doesn’t know why she agreed to any of this. Doesn’t know why Ekko—Ekko of all people—convinced her to stick around for one last round. She doesn’t know why he even came here in the first place. She knows she was ready to end it. She wanted to end it. One pull of the pin, and the chaos would have swallowed her whole. No more pain. No more doubts. No more voices.

But he wouldn’t let her go. And he didn’t just stop her. She assumes he kept stopping her. She remembers the way his face changed—the streaks of ash, the blood smeared across his jaw one moment and gone the next. It’s maddening to think about, that he kept rewinding to save her, like he was working on some grand equation, and she was the variable he couldn’t solve. Maybe he thought she wasn’t worth solving. Maybe he just didn’t want to die with her. She doesn’t know. She hasn’t asked. She can’t ask.

The clipper dies in her hand as she flicks it off, setting it down on the cluttered table in front of her. For a moment, she stares at the ruins of herself in the broken mirror. It feels kind of good—freeing, almost—but not enough to stop the weight still crushing her chest. That’s when she sees him. In the jagged shards of her reflection, he’s staring.

Her heart stutters against her ribs. Something hot and ugly coils in her gut—confusion, rage, a splinter of something else that hurts more than it should. Her breath catches as her violet gaze locks onto his. For a second, she thinks she sees something in his eyes, something that shouldn’t be there. It’s soft. It’s . . . adoration?

his hopes had been too high before. many times. there would be a lead, rumors of a blue haired girl catching someone's eye who would pass it along to him. their own hopes that they'd be in his favor, have his ear ... but these had never turned out. so he tried to keep his expectations low as he made his way down the familiar streets of the lanes. each step p u r p o s e f u l as he makes his way towards the abandoned arcade. he remembered that's where the kids had once wandered. that knowledge pulsed some more hope through his veins. he willed it away.

vander slows his pace as he nears, his eyes skimming over the shadows. seeking a familiar face. brows furrow as he notes a blue haired figure shift back into the shadows. “ powder? ” he questions, taking another step forward. he notices the shift farther back and pauses, staying in place this time as he asks, fearful of the brief blooming of hope in his chest. “ powder, is that you? ”

Getting him up here wasn't the hard part. Yordles are actually super light, especially when they're Undercity—even with all the metal and stuff. And she's not that small. The elevator did most of the job for her.

Thanks, elevator!

But getting Smeech's big head through the window? Yikes. Thick skull! She basically had to kick him through. (Basically as in she did.)

Jinx doesn't stick around to admire. And maybe she doesn't totally feel like it. The rope slides up Smeech's body all windy and twisted, his foot's mangled with stuck jabby glass bits from when she shoved him out and watched him die headfirst from his penthouse. She doesn't even feel like swiping that gear-shaped snowglobe thingy by his bedpost. Hanging over the sill, she starts coloring a squiggly shape around his ankle and doesn't even get to draw the eyes. Because she sees something first; an ash film on a boring old tray. Some stars and itty bitty monkey faces where she tried to make it more colorful.

People are pointing up at the Chem-Baron's body from the street. His bodyguards are dead as doormats in an alley, but more are coming. She's already running away.

・ﾟ

‘So now you're all quiet? Don't wanna talk anymore?’

‘Oh, I'm scary, right? That it?’

‘Orrr, what—ha—you got better places to be? Other heads to fill?’

(Clang, thwack, everything punctuated by tossed weapons and the slap-slap-slap of her boots on the factory roof.)

She tumbles onto her ass eventually. Her feet swing over the sky, Undercity lights all stars in a void. For once, no company. Head's a staticky whir. Like ants biting everywhere so she swells up and just hurts.

Jinx claws her fingers back into her hair, laugh bubbling up somewhere, or maybe that's something else but she could make it laugher, this whole thing's a j̷͓̱̞̲̻͌́ơ̴͎͎̳̽̃̋̽̈́̕ķ̸̨̠̖͎́͊͠e̷͙̚, it's fine, ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜰɪɴᴇ! She's ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ! Ḛ̵̞͛V̴̧̹̭́̄̓̀E̴͖̻͎͐̃͑R̸̟̋̏́Y̸̨͖͎̻̅̂̕Ţ̷̤̟̜̣̟͒̄H̶͎̣͇͆̈́͝Ì̸̛̜̪̈́N̸̨̛̻̠͈̼͔̓̊̕̚G̸̢͙̺̾͌̽͠ ̴̣͚̟̒̆͐͊͜Ị̴͆̍͆̄S̶̰͖͙̿̾͗̓̚͠ Ǧ̴͈͉Ȓ̸̲̪͇̹̏̅͊̀͠Ḙ̴̮̌̕Ă̸̟̰̫̝͓̔͘͝T̴̖͖̲̰̟͙̈̀̕̚

Whatever Halsin had expected when he joined a group of adventures to explore a ruined Selunite temple, it wasn't this. The entire place was overrun by goblins, far more than he had seen in one place before. It also quickly became apparent that he had overestimated the abilities of the adventures he traveled with.

In an effort to protect them he shifted into the form of a cave bear and while it was effective there were simply too many goblins. Eventually he was subdued but he saw at least three of the adventures get away with a group of goblins in pursuit. He could only hope they would make it to the Grove in time and provide a warning of what they had found.

As for Halsin, he found himself being dragged into the temple where he was prodded a bit by the apparent leaders of the camp; an odd group of a goblin priestess, a female drow, and a male hobgoblin. He listened closely to their words before he was dragged off somewhere else. The Warg Pens.

Which held fewer wargs than he was expecting honestly since he only counted two along with... Well... He wasn't sure what it was. The creature in the cell he was being dragged towards did look vaguely like a warg but he knew of none that were bipedal. A werewolf seemed most likely but it also could be some unknown hybrid.

Regardless Halsin didn't particularly want to fight so despite the jeers of the goblins he merely ambled into the cell, giving the wolf-creature a wide berth and being careful not to make any aggressive movements. His plan was to settle in a back corner of the cell to recover from the recent battle on the surface. He also wanted to see what other information he could gather.

Not that the goblins were making either goal easy with how they were throwing rocks and trying to egg on both him and the wolf into fighting each other. If bears were capable of rolling their eyes then he certainly did so along with an exasperated huff not unlike that of a parent dealing with a difficult child.

Her fist made contact, and although she didn't have all of the nerve endings that used to enrich her fists from years of deadening the damn things, as punching concrete often did, she could feel how dense this beast was. The shock reverberated down her forearm and she barely budged the creature. She had a feeling this was going to go poorly in her favor. As soon as her strike rang true, the liquid in the tank boiled and surged, suddenly boiling into a strange orange that bathed her in its hue in the dark alley. The claws ripped back, ready to strike as Vi tries to duck-- but she hit the wall, as the strike never came. Instead, she felt something far more dangerous strike into her. A voice, of all things, that she hadn't heard in a lifetime. It was primal, perverted, but it sounded an awful lot like something she heard the day her life fell apart. Take care of Powder. She suddenly choked. Was this a hallucination? No, no, it's been so long since I've had Shimmer last. I shouldn't be withdrawing, it should be over--

But it was no hallucination. The monster backpedaled a step, and then two, it's massive hands clutching at its wolfish visage. Her hands suddenly shook like they hadn't in years. It was strike after strike to her vulnerable heart, her eyes almost shifting from cold steel to pale blue in the shimmering orange light as the shape of her eyes changed. Are you real? It was familiar, another fatal strike delivered and the beast hadn't even raised a claw to her.

"Va--Vander?" Violet whispered, as if her consciousness was about to be robbed away from her. Her trembling gaze flickered down to her fists; what had she done? Why did she just keep hurting her family?

It was almost like yesterday that Powder and Vi were separated right by their parents' slaughtered bodies. It was a nightmare to Vi that she never seemed to escape since half the time that's what awoke her at night. The other half of her nightmares were when Powder had bombed them, her new family. Vander and her brothers Milo and Claggor were dead on the ground right beside her and just like the day she lost Powder, Vi was sobbing helplessly. How could she lose both her families before turning into an adult? Despite her efforts at the time, Vi wasn't able to sway her sister and even then, she decided from then on that she wouldn't give up on her.

Time passed now, she had been taken to Stillwater for her involvement in the heist and the whole mess that led to the death of her new family but even then, Vi could never forget about Powder and what she had done. She didn't necessarily grow bitter towards her since her love outweighed everything but she wasn't exactly on good terms with her. Vi and Powder had lost everything together once, but Vi lost everything again at the hands of her own sister. She could never forget that.

As luck would have it, a naive enforcer had broke Vi out of prison since she had information on Powder. What had Powder done, she wasn't sure, but she was going to find out one way or another. She just had to ditch this damn enforcer. Once they were in the Undercity, Vi managed to lose the woman and immediately set out on finding her sister. She was prepared to live on absolutely nothing until she found her but to her luck, she had found the girl not too long after. Vi stared at her, her light blue hair was practically hitting the floor even in braids. She sported blue cloud tattoos on her arm and her rib cage too. Powder looked so different, but still so Powder.

Vi's gaze must have hardened as she stared since Powder seemed on edge but then it struck her. "Who are you?" She didn't recognize her. It had been a while but...her name was literally on her cheek. "Powder, it's me," Vi said and gestured to herself as she took a step forward. "It's Vi...Violet. Your sister." The word came out in a tone of confusion almost as if she doubted the fact herself. "You really don't recognize me?"