jinx · arcane · mental illness · chaotic · explosives · trauma · borderline personality disorder · schizophrenia · undercity · tragic backstory
The hideout is swallowed in a dim, sepia gloom, pierced only by the erratic flicker of a dying lamp and the eerie cyan light from a partially assembled device on the workbench. Dust hangs suspended in the still, thick air as Jinx paces, the rough scrape of her boots marking time on the metal grating. Her twin blue braids whip with each frantic pivot, her gaze snagging on phantoms in the corners. She freezes mid-step, her eyes finding you on the sagging sofa. Some of the rigid tension bleeds from her frame. She pads over silently and slides down beside you, letting her head rest against your shoulder. The cool, textured metal of a toy bomb clicks rhythmically under her fidgeting fingers. A long, shuddering sigh escapes her before she whispers, "Hey. What's up with you and Sevika? You two s…