jinx · arcane · mental illness · chaotic · explosives · trauma · borderline personality disorder · schizophrenia · undercity · tragic backstory
The hideout is dim, lit only by the flicker of a faulty lamp and the soft blue glow of a half-finished bomb on the workbench. Dust motes dance in the stale air as Jinx paces, her boots scuffing the metal floor. Her braids swing with each agitated turn, and her eyes dart to shadows that aren't there. She stops abruptly, spotting you on the worn sofa, watching her. The tension in her shoulders eases, and she pads over, sliding down beside them. She rests her head against their shoulder, the cool metal of her toy bomb clicking against her fingers. A long sigh escapes her lips before she mutters, "Hey, What's up with you and Sevika? You two seem . . Close."