AN:
There we go! First real chapter done, along with Ekko's. Now, we just have to keep three gyrowheels spinning simultaneously.
People were surprised when Jinx performed her first rampage. S'pose that people just didn't care to notice her until she pointed a rocket launcher at them. Either way, it surprised her when no one stopped her the first time round. She'd been going for an hour - with a five minute break half-way through to restock and visit the little anarchists' room - when any real resistance had shown up. Of course, that in and of itself had been incredibly surprising, to top off all the other surprises, and by far the most… Surprising.
When Fathands busted through a wall just in front of her, she hadn't believed her genetically enhanced eyes. The maniac didn't think the pig had spotted her yet in the cloud of brick and concrete dust, so she took the moment to set up a little surprisingly surprising surprise. Of course, it was ruined when she giggled maniacally at her own surprisingly -crack!
The massive fist sent her flying straight through a wall, crushing it, the table she landed on, and one of her arms. Coughing and laughing in one, which was pretty hard, she staggered to her feet as the sound of rubble clattering fell away, straightened with a pop and quickly grabbed a chomper as a dark form coalesced in the dust in front of her. It was familiar, one she would recognise anywhere, and she imagined vice versa. A pink punk mohawk fluttered on one side of the wall, the other twin blue braids. Depthless magenta eyes met azure steel, and hands clenched as adrenaline pumped. Vi broke the silence, gauntlets humming as the dust settled.
"Jinx… What happened? Why…" Jinx found this hilarious, as she did pretty much everything.
"It's FUN, silly! I can do whatever I want and you and Hatlady can't-" Smash! Another wall down, though this time it was a cabinet and not a table. Jinx felt that this was all pretty unfair, considering she was currently at a score of 0-2, so this time when she got up a rocket was what Vi saw. Her blast shield absorbed the explosion and the shrapnel, but when the abused building's fourth wall shattered and collapsed the roof on top of her, the only thing she could hear was Jinx taunting her.
"You'll never ever never catch me, Vi! You wait and see, this city will be MINE and you can't save it… Sis!" The voice receded, cackling, and Vi lay there in the rubble, sobbing, as her blast shield recharged.
Jinx ran, unable to hold in the occasional giggle. She'd done it! Lured in Vi, taunted her, then actually won. She WON! And it felt… Soooooo good. The rush, the thrill, the hit of adrenaline and sheer happiness. Fuck it was enough to almost make her turn back around and do it again! But, even in her… Relaxed… State of sanity, she knew that was bad idea. An angry Vi was a dangerous one. Well, she was dangerous - and angry - all the time, but Jinx imagined having a building collapsed on you was especially aggravating. She wondered if Vi was dead. Her little sis, Vi. She wasn't sure how she felt about that possibility. After all, that was the whole point, right? To get back at Vi for… For killing her. Her little sis, who she loved and protected… She'd snapped her neck. It hadn't even been much of a fight, much of a struggle. She was so much smaller, despite being older, so much weaker, despite being so much…
What was she thinking about? Meh. It probably wasn't important anyway. She started skipping, whistling all the while.
She had to get back, down to Zaun. The Wardens would be sweeping this place soon, and she'd got what she wanted. It was possible. It, actually, easy. She wondered if this was how Vi felt, after all those fights. Like there was something missing. She wanted to find someone - or something, like her - that would be a match. A challenge. Perhaps Vi could still prove a threat, if she just… Pushed the right buttons. It was a simple idea. She stopped and pulled a can of pink paint from her many belts and stated haphazardly spraying. She loved the sound, the smell, the way the drips ran down. It was imperfect, pink, and uncontrollable. Just like her. She giggled and threw the can; it slammed into the wall and exploded, releasing a nova of neon pink. Her hair floated momentarily, and she loved the feeling… Maybe she could get her whole body like that?
She stepped up to the edge of the bridge, ignoring the looks of passersby. Most were well-off Pilty's, with big hats and bigger egos. She bet their dicks were really small. But she didn't have time to dwell on that; she looked over the edge. It was definitely a loooong way down. She took out a chomper and casually tossed it over. It exploded long before it hit the bottom. Everyone else on the bridge started running, yelling. She laughed. Fishbones expressed his concern.
"You know, jumping off really high bridges into an endless abyss is a good idea to get yourself killed." She scoffed, throwing him back over her shoulder.
"Shuddup, you scaredy-bones! I'll be fine!" She dashed over to the other end and spun, hands flourishing like a dancer. She started running, building speed, legs pumping at an impossible speed.
"Three, forty-one, nine aaaand-" She soared, effortless, for a moment. Then she started falling, falling. "LIFTOFF!" She screamed as she plummeted, exultant, whooping and cheering. The world passed by in a blur. It turned from blue, gold, purest white, faded, dirtied, stained, to brown and black and bile green, as she fell, the boundaries between worlds mixing, indecisive. Then the transformation finished; the green started to radiate like a sickness of its own from below. She was in Zaun. She liked it better here, but it was much more fun blowing stuff up in Piltover. Down here, no one cared, no one really even screamed. They expected it, and worse. It was soooo saaaad. As a second thought, she reached round and pulled Fishbones between her legs. She giggled, he was such a dirty boy, and kicked on the blaster. Her descent started to arrest almost immediately. It was jarring, but much less so than becoming a Jinx-smoothie. She landed with less grace and more… Broken legs. She stood up as they knitted together, her sides splitting instead. Her landing was pretty accurate, and she walked off, stumbling.
Jinx adjusted the strap on her shoulder, Fishbones threatening to slip off. The other hand brushed aside a curtain, stepping past as it swished closed behind her. She pulled out her zap gun, plugging it into a slot hacked from the wall, and flicked the switch on the side. Immediately lights blinked on, illuminating a simple room. A bed, little more than several mattresses stacked one on the other, and a pile of cans, wood, and unwashed plates that could generously be called a kitchen. Unceremoniously, she flopped onto the mattresses. She laughed when something wriggled underneath her, slipping away from its ungrateful host. This was one of the many dozen safehouses she had scattered about Piltover and Zaun. It was far easier to rent random holes in Zaun than in Pilty; people were willing to turn a blind eye - or two - if you offered cash up front, and she had an abundance of that. She lifted a pale arm and swiped a can from the floor. A cursory inspection showed it to be in a language she couldn't read, so she shrugged and decided to open it anyway. Lifting Fishbones off the floor, she prised his jaws open and twisted the can, speared onto a jagged tooth. The metal disc clattered to the floor, revealing… Something. It tasted bearable when she dipped a finger in, so she threw her head back and chugged the strange broth. When she was done, the empty can joined a small pile in the corner, and she put Fishbones under her head as a pillow. She could not, however, get to sleep. She never could, and had foregone the act for… Too long for Jinx to remember.
After maybe an hour, she heard the sound of talking through the walls. A sudden surge of curiosity overwhelming her, she whispered to Fishbones not to worry. Pow-Pow wanted to come on the adventure, so she grabbed her and swept out the door. Sneaking skilfully, she crept to the top of the rickety fire escape that made up the stairs, of which her room was the highest. At the bottom, the fat slob of a 'landlord' who rented out these rooms was arguing with a large man who was, at first glance, free of augmentation, like her. The man shook his head, clearly irritated, then simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a Hex. Making sure it caught the light, he pressed it into the landlord's hands, who promptly shut up and retreated to his own room. She watched as this mysterious man - with a clear abundance of money - trudged up the stairs. She stepped out from behind the curtain, and his eyes quickly tracked up to her. One hand subtly slipped into his jacket where he, no doubt, carried a firearm. Continuing his travel, she lay down on the metal, Pow-Pow forgotten behind the curtain. He stopped on the landing below her, staring up at her through the grille of metal.
"What do you want, girl?" She giggled, smiling to reveal perfectly white teeth; that she had none missing was a big surprise.
"You look pretty interesting, don'cha think? I think you look pretty interesting." The man isn't sure how to respond as she continues giggling, so he opens the door. When she lightly clinks to the deck behind him he spins, drawing the chunky sidearm, as she expected. This made her giggle more, and she leaned in close, the barrel pressing lightly to her forehead as she stared at it. The action, on the man's part, was entirely reflex, and now watching this apparently teen girl practically pressing her head to his gun freaked him out to no end. Quickly drawing the gun back, since he didn't really have the heart to execute a little girl in cold blood, he barked out:
"Leave me alone you sump snipe! Don't you have anything better to do?" She goggles him, eyes unfocused. He realizes she's probably high, and huffs loudly, gently pressing her back out the doorway. She doesn't resist, unnervingly, simply staring, and when he closes the door he has the strange feeling she's still standing there. He hesitates as he goes to turn away, then slides the bolt open and the door swings naturally, revealing the girl, now holding some sort of -
He dives, expecting a burst of fire from the chaingun she has grasped in two gangly hands. Coming up from his roll, gun in hand once more, he starts to sight on her chest as she calmly steps in, scanning the apartment. It is a significant upgrade from hers, with the most notable difference being the stack of blue paper on the table, neither of which she has. Ignoring the threat he poses, she grabs a piece of paper and scans it. It takes him a moment to realize she is looking at his sensitive plans and grasps a shoulder, prepared to pull her back, shouting, but she is immovable. Her shoulder, exposed by the strange belt-vest she is wearing, is soft and warm, but hard underneath… Like she has a metal skin just underneath the surface. Freaked, he immediately removes his hand, moving to the window and looking about, making sure she isn't some sort of really fucked up trap. Satisfied, he turns back and she has moved silently behind him. He controls the urge to jump.
"These aren't correct." Her voice is surprisingly soft, but he doesn't know how he'd missed the vein of insanity that runs below the surface, a live wire waiting to connect to something it doesn't have.
"Whoever gave them to you changed them." It takes him a moment to realize that he shouldn't really be listening to her, and that she shouldn't be here, distracting him. Where are her parents?
"Girl, you'd best be leaving. Not many strangers are as nice as me, but my patience is wearing thin." She ignores him completely, replacing the blueprint and somehow seeking out a notepad detailing a plan. Scanning it quickly she throws it back where it came from.
"Booooring! Have some fun! It isn't all about the gold and the jewels Mr. Spy!" His jaw drops to the floor. Her comment was closer to home than she might have thought.
"What do you mean? How do you know who I am? Who do you work for?" She blows a raspberry, shocking him into silence. He's completely overwhelmed by this girl, this random whirlwind of guns and pigtails and far, far too many bel-
"That's too many questions! Let's just start shooting!" Promptly, she lifts up the chaingun which whirrs for a moment, spooling into life, then spits a cloud of death in a deadly hum. His stack of blueprints, piles of source material, plans, diagrams, intel... All disappear in a mist of shredded paper, shrapnel, and blue powder. As soon as it begun, it's over; the dust literally settles, perhaps some of the most expensive dust in Zaun.
He makes a sound that can't be accurately described, but it's satisfyingly choked and aghast. The girl looks at him and laughs like his expression is the funniest thing she's seen. The gun is still in his hand; for a moment he imagines how satisfying it would be to blast a hole in that crazy face, but he's never been much for senseless killing. So he waits for the end of her fit. It takes a long time coming; he manages to salvage some of the larger scraps as she continues to roll on the floor, hands clutched to her stomach. The laugh is, in one way, irritating, but in another endearing, almost cute. He doesn't mind it so much. He's trying to piece together a few of the fragments when the laughing - like a video tape reaching its end - cuts abruptly. He looks back and she's standing at his shoulder, looking over. Once again, he manages to stifle the urge to yelp.
"What'cha doin'?" Her voice is higher pitched, and dare he say, more girly. Cute. Vulnerable. It jars in his head that she had just unloaded a chaingun in his house. He stands and glares at her.
"You just destroyed some very important documents, young lady! A-And why… How did you get a chaingun?! Where did you learn to use it?! And what are you doing now?!" The girl has climbed onto his bed and started jumping. He didn't think the bed would be that bouncy, but she's making quite some height with each flex of her tiny, bony legs. After a few seconds of him staring, trying to understand what the fuck is happening, she starts doing tricks. Backflips, frontflips, hand stands, even a cartwheel, all on his bed. Some part of him is impressed; it's certainly something he's never seen, and something he could never do. All he can do is watch as she escalates her tricks; jumping higher, spinning more. He can see how this will end, and isn't sure how he feels about the girl falling off and breaking her neck, so he strides over.
"Uh, hey, girl, you should probably stop. It isn't safe. You might get hurt." He considers that if she was literally a few years older, he would have shot her by now. But something about her, he just can't help but want to protect. It irritates him. Either way, she either doesn't hear him or ignores him. She starts to giggle loudly, jumping and twisting and spinning and falling and then her words reach him between the laughter.
"Don't worry, silly Mr. Spy! I'll be fine, I'm a big gi-" And then she jumps too high, clips her shoulder against the ceiling and nosedives straight into the metal floor. There's a nasty-sounding snap and, despite himself, he finds it both maddeningly satisfying and sickening to his stomach. She doesn't make a noise, just rolls over and stands. He can see she's broken a finger, the bone sticking out the skin. He's seen worse, in war or by his own hand. She stares at it for a moment, and he can only hope that whatever drug she's spaced out on is numbing the pain, stopping her slipping into shock.
The shock, however, is his; as he watches, her face grows a smile and the bone just sinks into her flesh and straightens.
It makes a popping sound as it reconnects. She mirrors it, like a fish, and then giggles again. He stands slack.
She looks up at him, waving her now-healed hand in his face, her hair flailing like a pair of blue snakes.
"Seeeee! I told you Mr. Spy, I'll be fine! I can't get hurt, didn't you know that?!" She skips off, humming a tune. She's moving towards the door; he has no idea why, but for some reason her regenerating bones interests him, as it would many people. When he calls out to stop her, he's surprised at himself for doing it, and her for turning round.
"Would you like some food? Stay, and talk. I'm sure we have a lot in common." Her eyes sparkle and grow wide, and all he can see is the fathomless insanity in them, gazing out into the world. Or more accurately, swallowing the world, drowning it in lunacy beyond imagination. He swallows as she skips over.
"Sure! I love food!" She jumps onto the bed and sprawls out on it. She's very pale, and thin.
"Say, how regularly do you eat? Do your parents feed you often?" He strides over to a box, reaches in, and pulls out a portable stove, then proceeds to start heating up a meal.
"Oh, only every week or so." She's swinging her legs, her head bouncing back and forth, and ignores his second question. He files that information away under 'what-the-fuck' and sits down next to her, making sure to leave at least an arm's length. She doesn't seem to notice.
"What's your name?" He tries to say it softly. The chaingun she brought in is leant against the foot of the bed. It is, he has to admit, worryingly close. She looks up at him and grins.
"Tell me yours first!" He shrugs and opens his mouth to tell her. As he does so, however…
"Adr-Adrian!" She says it, and then quickly follows up with-
"JINX!" He leans back in shock. She continues the game, quickly spitting out the rhyme that is so popular amongst children, then mimes the throwing away of a key. She's staring at him intently, on her hands and knees, very slowly crawling closer. His jaw is hanging slack. She reaches out and closes it, then giggles. For some reason, he smiles. He can't figure out why.
"So, your name is-" Her fist lashes out and collides with his arm. He gets hurled off the end of the bed, landing with a clatter, dangerously close to the stove.
"You can't speak, silly! You got JINXED!" She bursts into laughter and quickly rolls straight off the side of the bed, not seeming to notice. Bloody progress, she's absolutely off her rocker. He wipes a strand of black hair out of his face and tentatively feels his shoulder. It's definitely going to bruise. So, fast healing, super strength… What else? As she continues to roll, he grabs the can of food. It's hot, but he can bear it, and starts eating absentmindedly, watching the girl frolic. When he's polished off half, he coughs and moves the can in her general direction. She comes to a rest on her back, long blue hair twisted into a cobweb around her.
"Yeah, mister silly spy man?" Her voice is cute, but infuriating to no end. Since he concludes she has no parents, he imagines that she makes her living like so many other sump snipes; stealing, cheating. She looks too young to be a working girl, but considering the hardware she's carrying, maybe she's older than she looks. In fact that's another thing to categorise as 'what-the-fuck' worthy. He points to the food.
"Dinner. Eat up." She scoots on her back like some sort of demented snail, her hair trailing behind her. When she gets to the can, she lifts it up and lets it pour down her throat. He frowns.
"Don't you like food?" She frowns at him, wiping her mouth, and throws the can in a random direction. It sails through his window and lands somewhere far below.
"I told you, I love food! Duh!" He frowns, motioning vaguely to his window.
"So why not savour it? You eat it like it's a chore." Her face twists into total befuddlement. He waits patiently.
"Because… Because I want to eat it! It's the best bit of food! Why wait?!" She springs to her feet in a dazzling display of athleticism that he couldn't hope to copy. He nods, but she's lost interest. She starts humming a tune and moves over to the window, then leans out. He hadn't noticed before, but there are strange tattoos covering her. Clouds, maybe. For someone who's wearing so little, she seems to be very pale. She must spend all her time down her in Zaun, where the sunlight is a taunting memory. In fact, now he realizes it… Despite how small her breasts are, her ass is definitely more developed. He strokes his chin, thoughtful. Maybe she is older than she seems. Her clothing is decidedly home-made, cobbled, the number of belts startling. So, how old is she?
"Say, Jinx, how old are you?" She doesn't respond, apparently not hearing. He goes to repeat his question, but she gasps, and jumps out the window. He simply stands, agape, not sure what just happened. There comes a knock at the door. Slowly, he stands and makes his way over. The knocking returns, intensifies, and multiplies into a cascade of blows, the sound making his ears hurt. Quickly he opens it. Jinx stands on the other side, holding something long, cylindrical, and blue. Her fists continue to strike the air, her eyes closed, grinning fiercely. Is that… A rocket launcher?
"Jinx!" She brushes past him, eyes still closed. He ducks out of the way of her flailing fists, then when she comes to the bed, apparently decides that her drum solo is over, finishing with a flourish and a leg-kicking double overhead slam onto the bed that breaks something. She sits down and looks over at him, silent, but smiling. He closes the door with a click, and stares at her. She stares back, head swaying hypnotically. Her eyes draw him in… Their pink depths seem to swirl. When he blinks, she's standing right in front of him, in a practiced sort of way.
"Say hello to my friends of varying sizes!" She's holding two guns, the pink one and the blue one, and a third pistol-shaped object hangs from her belt. It's joined with the chaingun when she lets go as it seemingly compresses down into a more manageable size. The rocket launcher is looming at his face. He realizes it has a shark's aesthetics; jagged teeth, fins, and reflective yellow orbs for eyes. He stares down the barrel and sees the tip of something, then swallows.
"Meet Fishbones, Mr. Spy Man Adrian!" He nods slowly, glancing between Jinx and… Fishbones.
"Hello, Fishbones… Good to meet you..?" Jinx, seemingly satisfied, starts to manipulate the jaws in a semblance of speech, speaking out one side of her mouth in a silly voice, like he wouldn't realise.
"Hullo, Adrian! I hope you're having a nice day!" She scoffs and rolls her eyes, tilting the weapon so it appears they're looking at each other.
"Fishbones! You're supposed to be cool! Shut up and make some explosions!" She points the rocket launcher at the open window and he hastily interrupts, grasping her shoulder.
"H-Hey, well, wouldn't want to be rude, would we? Who's the… Other… Gun?" Jinx glances at him, frowning, and lets go of the rocket launcher. It contracts and moves over her shoulder, becoming a demented, spikey backpack, and grabs the other weapon, which grows back out to form the chaingun.
"Pow-Pow? Silly, she doesn't talk!" Then, seemingly forgetting her previously explosion-orientated intent, she jumps onto the bed, and starts… Swimming? Where did she get these guns?! They're clearly Hextech of some sort, and the fact that she has them means one of three things. She stole them - he doubts it, though she seems capable and insane enough - she was given them by a patron or ally, or she made them. Considering that she is also apparently super-human, he rests on the latter. But then he considers the fact why. She's effectively a supersoldier, the end result that Chem-Thugs could only dream off. All the benefits of augmentation without the sacrifice. He just dumps the whole 'Jinx' bit in the now extra-big, reinforced 'what-the-actual-fuck' folder. Then he focuses on her. She and Fishbones are mock-wrestling, treating the bed like a pool of water. Or maybe the sacrifice was her sanity. In that case, who gave it to her? Why did she accept? And…
And if she has these gifts, why is she here? Why did they give her up? What are their intentions? Who is she?
