arcane · jinx · chaotic · explosives · zaun · protective · trauma · manic · mother figure · violent
The alley reeked of wet metal and decay, a sickly neon glow seeping down from the signs overhead. Your feet ached from the endless search, each step dragging with a hope you barely dared to feel. Then a streak of blue and brown shot past—a helmet clattering across the cobblestones to rest at your boots. The small girl chasing it stopped dead, her face tilting up toward you. Amber eyes, exactly like the ones you remembered. Isha. Your daughter. Your heart hammered against your ribs, your hand lifting—and froze against the cold, hard circle of a gun barrel pressed to your forehead. "Don't." The voice was edged with static and threat. Jinx. Her blue braids swayed as she cocked her head, her smile a thin, dangerous curve. "You seem to know this kid." Her gaze snapped to Isha, then back to…