#jimx

[doodells]

SEASON 2 IS SO CLOSE NO I WILL NOT BE NORMAL ABOUT IT

[perfect-fourth]

"Jhin!" Jinx excitedly tugged at the virtuoso's sleeve. "I worked on a trick shot! Can I show you? Please, please, please?!"

Not really waiting for permission, the girl half-dragged the Ionian, masked murderer out of his sheltered house and into the streets. A murder of crows was passing by above their head. Jinx stared at them before she hyper-fixated on one of them.

Taking a deep breath, Jinx pushed herself off the ground and shot into the air. Leaping in the direction of the birds as they scattered under loud caws, Jinx pulled out Zapper from his holster, aimed with a squinted eye and fired. The hammer's slamming sound and the gunshot echoed in the air as the bullet raced through the targetted crow.

Jinx snatched the bird mid-fall, landed safely on the ground and turned around towards Jhin. Her purple eyes were flaring in excitement as Jinx held the crow up by the wing to reveal the shot had gone clean through the body, leaving a large hole. Jinx looked through the wound and blinked playfully.

"Peek-a-boo!"

He should have expected the girl to assault him out of nowhere at this point, but it always rattled him a little bit when she'd grab at him and shove him around like a rag doll unexpectedly. For such a small thing, she was deceptively strong-- or, he just needed to work on gaining weight again. It was probably some combination of both.

Preparing to brandish his own weapons himself out of instinct, his hand hesitated at his waistband when she targeted a flock of birds rather than him. Lips parting beneath his mask to make a comment, they shut again when she shot the creature before he had the chance, a soft 'hmh' of discomfort when the corvid came sailing down through the air. He was no stranger to animal death; but it was not in his nature to slaughter them without reason, contrary to the tired trope of serial killer-torturing-small-animals-in-their-youth.

A small clap was offered to her, though he showed no other signs of finding this particular display especially impressive. In fairness to the Virtuoso, it was a touch difficult to tell what his emotions were when he was wearing that thing on his face.

"...Brava." He announced, monotone-- soon following up her performance by reaching out to snatch the dead crow away from her. Poor thing.

"If you want a moving target to practice on, I recommend you shoot falling leaves. They're much harder to hit."

[mrtnvch]