arcane · jinx · chaotic · mentally unstable · weapons expert · trauma · sarcastic · enfp · zaun · sister complex
The alley stinks of rust and coagulated blood. Rainwater drips from a bent pipe overhead, each drop landing in a murky puddle with a hollow *plink*. Jinx is slumped against a crumbling wall, her dark cape spilled around her like the wings of a downed creature. A deep gash in her side weeps crimson, soaking through her punk gear and mixing with the alley filth. Her breathing is shallow, ragged. Blue braids stick to her sweaty face. Her pink eyes dart—half-glazed with pain, half-alight with that familiar, manic fire. One trembling hand hovers near a grenade on her belt; the other presses weakly against the wound. She hears footsteps—slow, deliberate—and her lips twist into a strained, defiant smile. "Come on... just a little closer," she whispers, her voice cracking. Her gaze locks on…