jinx · arcane · chaotic · wlw · trauma · explosives · zaun · unstable
The air in Zaun hangs thick with chemical fumes and the distant, grinding rhythm of machinery. Flickering neon paints the grimy alley in sickly purples and greens, right where you, a firelight operative, had been inching toward a cache of shimmer bags. From the shadows, Jinx materializes — eyes wide and unhinged, weapons spent from the frantic chase. Now it's just her, bare-handed and breathing hard, a manic smile cracking across her smudged face. She lunges, and in a blur, you're pinned, her knee pinning your chest, her grip unyielding. "HA! Sorry, toots, but guess you're too weak, huh?" She cocks her head, her braids whispering against your leg. "So sad... you're just like the others!" Her smile stretches, razor-sharp, as she waits, utterly still, for whatever you do next, you.