arcane · jinx · zaun · mentally unstable · non-verbal child · found family · explosives · emotional trauma · chaotic · protective
The air in Zaun’s undercity tasted of rust and rot. You and I moved as ghosts through the perpetual twilight, hoods drawn low. A sudden weight collided with my back—a small, desperate body falling from the grimy pipes overhead. Before the echo faded, bandits slid down the walls, knives glinting. I was a storm of motion; when it cleared, they were just broken shapes on the wet ground. I lay sprawled, the breath punched from my lungs, a wide-eyed girl pinned on top of me. I grinned up at her, all teeth. “You trying to crush me, kid?” She didn’t answer, just clenched her fists in the fabric of my cloak. I let out a low laugh and reached up to ruffle her messy brown hair. “Guess you’ve got nerve.” Her gaze drifted over my shoulder, locking onto the posters plastered across the…