Sweet Seals For You, Always
Andulka
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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NASA
KIROKAZE
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
YOU ARE THE REASON
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Not today Justin
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art blog(derogatory)
RMH
Three Goblin Art
Xuebing Du
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@fishibon-blog
My KDA Ahri, Akali, Evelynn and Kai’Sa Enamel Pins kickstarter is now live! Please consider reblogging to help spread the word. I’d love for these cuties to become reality!
Be on the lookout for buttons, stickers and other collectibles I plan on releasing for these girls.
@chronoshatter
It’s your birthday today. That means a lot of things. It means you survived another year on your own. It means that you have another year of experience under your belt. It means that you’re, once again, going to celebrate your new year. Alone.
Well, not completely alone, if someone asked you. After all, you had your three best friends in the whole universe(!!!) here to spend it with you. And their names were Pow-Pow, ZAP!, and Fishbones.
Still, though, you felt like something was missing. Eh! You probably just needed more fireworks!!! Obviously! You stuffed more explosives into a ratty, brown duffel bag until it was practically overflowing with various fireworks and other things that were loud, bright, and volatile. Not much unlike yourself.
A few sparklers slipped through the holes in the bag and left a vague trail behind you, but nothing that concerned you too much with. Sparklers were baby toys anyway. (Disclaimer: Do not give sparklers to babies.) But you were off! Racing the wind almost (or, what would be wind if you weren’t in the city of Zaun, where a fall breeze was more akin to hazy gray fog) to... somewhere. No one really questioned what you did most of the time. No one really cared, honestly. Unless you were blowing up shit in Piltover. Then suddenly everyone cared. Good times...
You set Fishbones down against a charred fence as you approached a very old, mostly rubble building. The word “Orphanage” was very faintly engraved on a sign above the boarded up doorway. You seemed uninterested in entering the ruins of the building, but you did stare at it for a moment. Odd being back here again. But, hey, where better to set these off and be undisturbed, right?
You set Pow-Pow down, and then ZAP! soon after, carefully.
“You guys are gonna looooove this. I made sure to pack aaaaall of our favorites! So, it’s like, me treating you. Even though it’s my birthday.”
“Well, gosh, thanks, Jinx. That’s very considerate of you!” you replied(?) in a much deeper voice. Rather, Fishbones replied.
“No time for the mush now. Explosions first, talk later!!!” you huffed in your usual pitch, but more like you were speaking through your nose than your mouth.
“You read my mind, Pow-Pow! Don’t worry, I’m working on it,” you assured, before setting the fireworks up on an old stump, with the remains of a tire swing nearby. You lit them up enthusiastically before settling yourself between Fishbones and Pow-Pow, letting ZAP! rest in your lap. You looked up to the sky at the first whistle as your first explosive raced to the heavens to spark with colorful fire.
A heavy sigh left you as you voiced for your last gun, in a soft, calmer voice-- one you hadn’t used for yourself since you left this place years ago.
“Happy birthday, Jinx.”
(( It’s Jinx’s birthday! And she’s upset because I haven’t been on her blog like at all. ))
Draven was not used to being approached in a ‘caution to the wind’ sort of manner. Fans were one thing but even they seemed to have some grasp on self preservation, even if Draven would almost never hurt his fans. Almost.
The braided weirdo assaulting his table? Another story entirely. Draven would have let her hands meet his axes on the spot if she had not been so damned amusing. Draven laughed and kicked his feet up onto his table, leaning back in the patio chair.
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
You had stuffed your mouth faster than you were able to swallow, which was definitely extremely graceful. You were like the definition of grace. Look up grace in the dictionary and there would be a poorly drawn picture of Jinx in crayon next to it. Really.
When he spoke, you had briefly stopped devouring the food to finally actually look at Draven, hot pink eyes locked on him. He looked horribly familiar. Had you shot a rocket at him before?
“Jinsh,” you tried to say your name through a full mouth. You swallowed heavily, then tried again. “It stands for Jinx. Who’re you?”
The girl finally seemed to come to a stop for a moment. It was about time. Graves honestly thought his legs were going to turn to lead after all the running. He’d have to make a mental note to not try running too much while still adjusting to alcohol.
He was positive the bartender had put something in his drink as he watched the blue haired girl personify her guns; giving the inanimate object a voice with some crude ventriloquist act. He raised his brow as he stared at her, mildly alarmed. He gave a soft snicker, however, remembering his long years of isolation and the crazy things he did to keep sane. Sounds counter productive, but, it seemed to have worked for him.
Now that both of his hands were freed he grabbed his clasp that held Destiny on his back and unlatched it. Pulling the shotgun out and holding her by the barrel Graves began to spin it back and forth while attempting a strange falsetto voice, giving Destiny a distinct voice equipped with a heavier accent than Graves’s own. Likely nails on a chalkboard for the poor girl, but, Graves thought she might overlook his terrible voice acting skills and focus more on the gesture of playing along with her.
“Ahh, talkin to lil ol’ me? I truly ah-ppreciate et, Mr. Fishbones. Been a long while since I done talked ta anyone ‘sides trigger finger here.”
Graves gave a soft laugh. “Ignore Destiny. Name ain’t no ‘trigger finger’. Rather the name is Graves; Malcolm Graves. You seem as much outta place as I do, Blue. What faction you range from? If I had to guess, I’d say Zaun.”
Now he was getting to asking the real questions. He assumed by adding his given name “Jinx” would follow en-suite and give him her full name as well. Perhaps actually addressing her BY her name that she had literally just given him would have some added benefit, but that thought didn’t cross Graves’s mind, who was already use to calling her Blue after doing so one whole other time. That is a lot considering how many people he had talked to in the last few years.
You watched with an intense fascination as Graves removed his gun, mouthing out things like “what a pretty gun”. And then “she” started talking to you-- or rather, to Fishbones. You were kind of disappointed. You wanted to talk to the pretty lady!
Still, Graves started talking again, and you weren’t about to ignore your new Best Friend Forever!!! He’d introduced himself, and you would instantly memorize that name. Graves, your new best friend. Seemed kind of fitting.
“Malcolm Graves, got it. My full name is Jinx. (It stands for Jinx.)”
You gave him a thumbs up. Then you also wondered if you should have been guessing his faction? You weren’t very worldly, and you certainly didn’t travel much at all. He had an accent though, so that must obviously mean he’s from Ionia! That made sense. You’d never heard an Ionian accent before. They sure sounded funny.
“Yep! Boy, you’re good at this. But you’re definitely not a Zaunite. And you’re definitely not from Piltover or Noxus, either. I haven’t been to too many other places.” You shrugged. “It’s probably not important.”
@sewerskewer
The rain in Zaun was never very pleasant. You never liked rain. It was too wet, and that meant that explosions were doused much easier. Plus, you were almost certain that whatever water fell from the clouds, certainly had some sort of toxicity to them. Welcome to Zaun.
The water pulled on the makeshift tent you made yourself in one of the alleys, whining just a bit when you had to pulled down the sheets and let the water spill down. Great. This was fine! You didn’t want to stick around here and twiddle your thumbs anymore anyway.
Finding the nearest manhole, you shifted yourself down, clutching all your babies guns close to you as you dropped down. Better a smelly sewer then being pelted down by rain. Besides, it gave you a reason to explore. It might even be fun!
As if answering you, there was a rustling beneath the piles of garbage that you had assumed had just accumulated because these certainly were sewers.
“Aw, is someone here?” you cooed. “Hey, hey, is this Hide and Seek? Because I’m really good at that game.”
Now Lucian was first of all, weirded out, and second of all his patients was draining. This girl was still talking to his guns, and he certainly was not pretending they did talk. That would be ridiculous.
“I’m serious, they don’t talk. I don’t know what kind of weird place has talking guns but I’m not interested.” Lucian tried to sound reasonably calm but he knew that he’d end up yelling at her if she kept doing whatever she was doing.
“Fishbones and Pow Pow? Debbie Downer? What the hell is a- god I don’t even understand you, why do you even try to speak to guns?”
You rolled your eyes a little. It was kind of funny, actually, seeing him get all upset with you. Fishbones didn’t appreciate that you were antagonizing the poor guy, but Fishbones can shove it up his blowhole!!
As you think this, though, you pull out the rocket launcher and move your hand to start moving his mouth like he was talking, lowering your voice a little to “speak” for him. “Jinx, you’re bothering him,” “he” said. Immediately, you punched the side of the shark-themed rocket launcher and pout. “I’m not even talking to him! He’s interrupting a perfectly good conversation with these here beauties, and so are you!!!”
Fishbones dropped back, like he was exasperated with the girl. You know, if he wasn’t an inanimate object.
“Geez, I’m sorry. He’s not usually this rude! Don’t worry, Pow-Pow and Zap! are much better company. And don’t worry about your baggage. I’m used to that, too.”
Graves couldn’t tell if he had misheard the girl or heard her correctly, but a puzzled expression appeared over his rugged face. Perhaps he had finally registered what he had asked her and was questioning what the hell was going through his head. In all honesty, he was just way too caught off guard to warrant explaining to himself why her hair was the thing that struck him as strange about the situation.
He opened his mouth to start adding to the inquire with other nonsensical questions such as “How many smurfs does that take?” but was cut of from formulating such thoughts with the blue hair girls own inquire.
He was fairly confused by her method of asking. Part of him wanted to be THAT GUY™ and unzip his pants and pretend he thought that is what she meant by her wording. Instead, he decided not to be actual garbage for once and simply lifted the red poncho he dawned and revealed a very obviously custom made shotgun. It seemed to be unloaded at the time, as it would have been awkward going into bars wielding a loaded shotgun demanding beer while obvious intoxicated. He’d have the law enforcement on him in no time flat, and he hadn’t even tried robbing anyone yet.
He tried to pull it out with just the one free hand he had, but, his motors skills were not there enough to undo the clasp holding it in place with just one hand while walking and trying to hold a conversation of some sort.
“Imma guess this is what you’re talkin’ about, right, Lil Missy? This here is ol’ Destiny. She is mighty reliable. Been with me when no one else was. Her and I go way back. What about you, …Blue?”
As if he had been struck with realization, it dawned on Graves he had never asked his companion what her name was. He guess Blue would work until he figured out her name. …Had he introduced himself yet? Ehh, they would get to that eventually. Maybe.
Running your hand along the side of an old warehouse, you eventually found a ladder that led to the top of the building. You stopped here, for now, turning to face him and sitting yourself up on one of the rungs of the ladder. You giggled at his slurring tone, along with the weird accent he had. It wasn’t thick, of course, but definitely Bilgewater. That’s why his clothes didn’t look from Piltover!
Did he say his gun’s name was Destiny? You knew it! You were just fated to be friends. It was settled then. You were gonna be besties!
“You talk funny,” you laughed, but then started to gesture to your guns accordingly. “This is Pow-Pow. And Fishbones. And Zap!!” Your smile grew, and you pulled out Fishbones and started to move his “mouth”, speaking in a slightly lower tone than your usual one. “It’s very nice to meet you, Destiny.”
You had momentarily forgotten that there was a “show” going on, too excited to get to know this new friend. You bounced a little on the ladder you honestly should have been climbing. “And I’m Jinx!”
More headcanons for my headcanon tag, don’t mind me
Jinx has a work bench at one of the Zaun institutions that she uses for making explosives and tinkering with her guns.
She’s actually quite the genius when it comes to assembling firearms. Lightweight and strong is generally what she sticks with, as well as throwing in her own little flare.
Tinkering is how she makes due when it comes to getting the essentials. Lots of institution goers pay her in food to upgrade their firearms.
Since Zap! is the only gun not 100% made by her, she doesn’t ever tinker with it, in fear of accidentally breaking it.
@bloodandperfection
You didn’t exactly like tailing out beyond the Ironspike Mountains often, but sometimes the thrill of exploring was all you needed to keep you entertained. You’d heard a lot about the neighboring city of Noxus, but never visited it much. Zaun and Noxus apparently had some connections, so it probably wasn’t the best idea to raise hell here, like you could in Piltover. (Ugh, what a bummer!)
Still, as you slipped yourself into the city, through the outside wall, and you dropped off to start wandering around the town, taking in the sights and trying to memorize it in case you had to high-tail it out for whatever reason. You were about to go a little more in-depth with your exploring, until your stomach had growled to remind you that it had been some time since you’ve eaten. Hell, as much as you appreciated a certain mutated rat trying to share his moldy bread with you sometimes, you didn’t exactly want your cause of death to be “moldy bread” at the age of 23, and that had been the only food you’d been offered today.
You started searching for whatever rich-looking, pompous asshole you could find so you could woo them into getting you something to eat. Fortunately for you, you found something better, a pompous asshole that seemed to already be eating! You had silently, but quickly made your way over to where this man was sitting, then slammed your hand on the table and pointed up at the sky.
“Look!” you yelled, as if instead you were pointing at a meteor falling rather than a cloud that looked oddly shaped like a dolphin. Almost instantly after, you had snagged whatever he was eating out from under him. Even if he didn’t actually look in the direction, you were sure all this had gone on way too fast for Draven to react much. You had a habit of doing things a little too fast sometimes.
You sat across from him with a wide grin, stuffing your face and talking with your mouth full. “Gee, thanks. You’re the best, guy.”
Apparently I didn’t have my ask box open. Hhh. I fixed that.
Anyway, I’m off to bed! I’ll try and be a little more active tomorrow. Would be nice to get this blog off the ground. c:
“What the-” Lucian stumbled back, guns raised slightly at the loud greeting from god knows who. He guessed they were a girl, due to the long blue braids she had and the rather slim build. But something was off about her.
She wasn’t speaking to him, rather, she was talking directly to his guns. She had even asked for names, Lucian sure had seen some strange things but this was close to breaking the record.
“I uh, I just call them 029 and 030. They don’t talk if that’s what you’re interested in.” He held the two in his tight grip, almost afraid that she might snatch them and run.
You make a face at the names. Boy, those weren’t creative. You supposed it could’ve been worse. After all, at least they had names. You were told so many times that someone’s gun “didn’t have a name”. Needless to say, you sure showed them why they didn’t deserve to own firearms.
Of course, when he said they “didn’t talk”, you looked outright offended. You kept directing at his guns, and continued talking at them.
“I can’t believe you’re letting him talk about you both like that. Honestly, you both have way more patience than Pow-Pow. ...Oh! Right. I’m Jinx, by the way. This is Fishbones, Pow-Pow, and Zap!!” You held up the respective guns as you introduced them. “Do you always hang out with this Debbie Downer, or is he just here for the show?”
Graves.
Ahh, Piltover. What a lovely city, at least compared to what Graves’s had seen recently. Honestly, after being trapped in the prison in Zaun for… well, more years than he’d like to admit,any city filled with so much promise is a nice sight.
Graves was wandering, a hobby of his at this point. After being contained for so long his desire to branch out and explore from his childhood blossomed and exploded in full vigor. He had just finished visiting a bar, another hobby of his, and was on his way to the next to satisfy his desire for good liquor, when he heard a loud explosion. He reacted in a fairly delayed manner, staring up before awkwardly twirling to try and find out where it came from. Just as he had given up and was about to continue his quest she appeared.
It all happened so quickly. At first she turned the corner he was quickly approaching. Then she was talking about a show? Next thing Graves knew she had grasped his hand and was dragging him like a child towards God knows where. Part of him wanted to just lean back on his spurs and ask the girl, who looked just as out of place as he did, just where in tarnation she was taking him, but he didn’t get that luxury. Every time he thought of reacting they seemed to turn another corner, making him have to focus more on keeping his balance and not losing his footing. Man, she sure was a fast runner.
He pondered what in the hell she could be running from. Finally, as they reached a long alley with no immediate turns for either of them to take he decided to blurt out the question that was on the tip of the tongue:
“How in the hell do you have blue hair?”
Okay, maybe that was not the best question, and should have perhaps followed a ‘where are we going?’ or ‘who are you?’ but, this was the question that begged immediate answering apparently. Perhaps the alcohol was affecting him a lot worst than he originally thought. It had been a while since he had drank anything at all, and he needed to rebuild his tolerance.
Regardless of how intact his decision making skills were or were not, that was the only question he really asked as he followed her, still holding her hand.
You weren’t going nearly as fast now, unfortunately. You had to drag this slowpoke along with you (were his legs even moving? Geez!) and it was slowing you quite a bit. However, you were still moving at a pretty moderate pace, and soon enough, you were outside of any earshot for the sounds, aside from a few sirens, but those would be heard for miles.
You look a little confused at his question. You weren’t expecting that. Maybe he was trying to keep you on your toes? Gasp! Was this a sign? Were you given a new friend to make sure you were going to be exciting and unpredictable FOREVER? Oh boy! That sounded like fun! No, wait, you had to think of something unexpected, too! Hmm... magic was too obvious...
“I bathe in the blood of Smurfs,” you tell him, giving him a big grin. That was a good try! Maybe something cooler next time? Geez, you hoped he’d give you another chance.
“Did you bring a friend, by the way?” You gestured to the ammunition that decorated him. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Maybe phrase that better, Jinx.
@cityxgunner
There were rarely times you were ever bored, and when you were, you had always taken it among yourself to gather up as many explosives as you could to find someplace to watch them go off. Unfortunately, after your last fiasco, you were all out of fireworks. What a shame. You supposed making more was viable, but your work station was aaaall the way in Zaun, and you didn’t feel like walking back there now!
This city was big enough to have some sort of bombs shop, right? I mean, those were obviously a commonplace thing. Right? Of course. Explosives had to be at least on every block. Wasn’t that, like, a law or something?
Being used to taking very obscure paths due to hiding out and being wanted in Piltover, you hadn’t run into many people. In hindsight, it wasn’t your best plan if you were looking for something that would be in plain sight. Fortunately for you, it did lead you to a... man? Was hard to say, but you definitely knew what those things were at his side!
Guns!!!
You weren’t even sure if he had seen you before you had bounced up excitedly next to him and belted out a very loud, “Hey!!!” Your people skills still needed work.
You weren’t looking at him, but rather, his guns, so his whole machinery-get up didn’t quite raise any questions for you. Then again, you were probably used to seeing it. Still, you seemed infatuated with them. It’s been a while since she’d seen any sort of firearms like these.
“What’re your names?”
Okay!! So, enough with me being incredibly anxious about this blog. I’m going to try to get things going. I’m still trying to figure things out and get it sorted. Being new to an rp community is sort of anxiety inducing. Hhh...
But!! If you would like, like this post or shoot me an ask/pm if you want me to make you a starter?
@bilgewaterquickdraw
Ah, Piltover. What a putrid city. The sights, the sounds, the people-- they were all so much better when they were riddled with explosives. You never did do the same thing to the same place. No, no, no, you had to keep things interesting and new!!! How else would you keep everyone on their toes? Certainly by not being predictable like those party-pooper cops!
Speaking of, as pretty as it was to see mountains of fireworks doing work on this building, with puffs of smoke and loud fizzes of rockets, you couldn’t stay. With how many you had, you were sure that you could see the pretty aftermath of your work from a distance, but for now, running was a great idea. You had always been a good runner, even with the unnecessary amount of guns you had.
You slipped around paths behind and around buildings you had memorized, avoiding any routes that you knew they’d be looking for you in. What a bunch of losers. How stupid could--
As if your shit-talking was about to slam you in the face with karma, you had run into someone while turning the corner. It was fortunate for whoever it was that your hands were busy confidently twirling your braids instead of holding your guns, otherwise there would be several dozen bullet holes covering their body. You reached down and were about to do so, until you recognized his garbs to be... well, certainly not from Piltover.
“Hey!!” you chirped. “Are you coming to see the show, too? Don’t go this way, okay? I have a way better place in mind for the view.”
Whoever this was, you couldn’t have them ratting you out. Best keep an eye on them. And what better way to do that then to grab this man’s unsuspecting hand and drag them along with you?
