Being an enforcer was a sham. Caitlyn found out the hard way. All those years idolizing them, believing their good deeds, their courage, their dedication to the idea of being heroes when in reality, they were the opposite. They were like evil henchmen, serving a corrupt dictator (Marcus, the current sheriff) who had a connection to an even more corrupt party, the leader of Zaun. Marcus had besmirched the name of the sheriff, the heroics of Grayson, and the enforcers as a whole. How could anyone stomach the deception? How could they be the people Piltover trusted to protect them? Where was their nobility.
Caitlyn soon found out that if she wanted to make a difference in the world, she's had to go A-wall. With the help of Jayce, Caitlyn had him construct a super suit that served as both armor and a slight ability enhancer that would help her move quicker and punch harder with the power of hex gems. However, those were just precautions. She equipped herself with a rifle, one stronger than the ordinary rifle. Instead of bullets, it shot out blasts of hex energy, something Jayce himself had crafted and though it was experimental, Caitlyn only agreed to the format because she wouldn't have to carry literal ammo. Just shards of hexgems to power the weapon, much like her suit.
Her suit ended up looking too flashy for her endeavors so, after adding a black cloak over the whole ensemble, Caitlyn set off to Zaun. Her main goal was to find the leader Silco and after running into some of his goons, she was able to make her way right to his headquarters...which seemed odd. It couldn't have been this simple to find him and it wasn't. After being tricked, Caitlyn was captured, her rifle had thankfully merged into her suit to stop from being taken. When Caitlyn finally came too, she was tied to a chair, facing somebody sitting at a desk in the dark. "Where am I? Where's Silco? I'm putting an end to your little shimmer scheme once and for all!" Probably not the wisest thing to say when she was defenseless but she'd probably get some answers spewing out nonsense.
For always staying by my side. For always trusting me and loving me. For being there to hold me, wether in person or in spirit. To comfort me and tell me “ it’s okay.. . ”
To tell me I’m okay. .. .
im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry
No matter how many times I fucked everything up. No matter how many times my mess ups costed you and your dream. No matter how many mistakes I made. No matter how many times I Jinxed everything.
No matter all the people constantly telling you that you’re better without me.. .
No matter that.. . .
You continued to stay by my side and love me.. . .
“ It was only an accident, a mistake if you must, things happen.. . ” (i)
“ We pick up the pieces and try again.. . ”
Even then, the day it all crumbled down.. .
You should of hated me. You should have yelled at me, cursed at me. Tell me it’s “Because you’re a Jinx!” That it’s all my fault.. . Just like she did.
You had every right to. I deserve it.
I’m a monster, a mistake, a disgrace.. .
.. . . A Jinx.. .
And yet, you didn’t
“ Don’t cry.. . ”
You loved me you loved me you loved me
I killed you, and yet.. . you still loved me
You continued to love and accept me.
“ You’re perfect.. . ”
The little girl you found that day.. . Was weak and frail. A disgrace, a mistake.. . A jinx. And yet, you saw strength in that little girl. You saw more.
You loved her and loved her and loved her.
You loved her as your daughter and family, as the most beautiful thing to ever enter your life.
Most of the time these braiding sessions were full of life, where Jinx would happily report her findings... This wasn't such an occasion, as the Jinx that was there seemed almost completely lifeless. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, her eyes lifeless as she wondered if any of this was real. Wondered if in reality she was still within that secluded cell, that she'd wake up from this like it was all a dream.
Only it wasn't, and the Silco that was with her now, the office they were in, was very real. Unlike the hallucination her mind had provided, this Silco was touching her hair, brushing it as he'd always had, brought part of it to the side as he worked on the first braid. Her eyes glanced down at the hair that had fallen on the floor from cutting it previously. "I failed you, Daddy. Yet here you are, braiding my hair as if I did nothing wrong."
Jinx's body began to shake, the cobalt locks on the ground reminding her of how they had chopped off her previous braids. Then proceeded to torture her and inject her with their drugs... Shaking became trembling...If he spoke a word, it wasn't heard as she could feel cold concrete instead of the surface of his desk table. Until she felt a hand wrap around her wrist, grounding her to reality. Color came to her eyes as he captured attention there.
"I need you to tell me that I'm not there, anymore. That I'm home and never have to worry about that place again..." Her voice was shaken, and she found herself fighting back tears. Her MCCXIII tattoo was on full display as she looked back at him. "That what I'm feeling... hearing, is all real. Because I'm worried that I'm still trapped there. I can feel that concrete, hear the clanking of iron doors..." @zaunseye
Loosely crossing his legs, with one knee propped up against his chest, he sat down to test the Dauntless once more. He needed to wind it up first, pressing the key into its slot and twisting until the internal coils and gears were all pulled taut. The current of the pools was headed south, today, probably from the new drainage pipes installed by Topside. It was a little annoying, since the pools seemed to drain a few inches, leaving several previous testing areas as nothing more than puddles. He needed at least four inches of water to properly test the hydrodynamics of his replica ship.
He pulled the key, and the toy came to life with clicking rotations of its paddle wheels. He lowered it into the water, then watched it start to trudge along with the current. Making sure that the path was clear, he stood up with his cane, walking after the Dauntless. He kept his eyes on it, each step carefully planted to make sure he didn’t fall. It wasn’t going to be like last time.
The distant sound of a roar echoed through the rock walls behind him, catching his attention.
In that time, the Dauntless was pushed further into the open water, like something was gently pulling on the current. It was out of his reach now, ten feet from the ‘shore’, where it stopped and started to circle. Viktor knew enough about hydrodynamics to understand what that meant. It was about to get sucked under. He couldn’t let that happen! It was his favorite invention. He looked down at his feet, then to the Dauntless. It was now or never.
He stepped into the water, good leg first, then his cane, then his bad leg. He repeated the pattern of steps, approaching the swirl of water cautiously, but quickly as he could manage. The water grew deeper with each encroaching step, until he was up to his waist. His mother wouldn’t be happy with him coming home soaking wet, but at least he wouldn’t be without the Dauntless. He tried to lean forward, reaching out with the crook of his cane to hook around the invention and pull it toward him.
Then, his foot slipped into what felt like loose, sticky sand, sinking lower than his other, worse leg. He yelped, unable to pull his good leg out of the silt, no matter how hard he tried. His hand lost its grip on his cane, and the Dauntless with it. Panicked, he grabbed onto his leg with both hands, trying to struggle and yank himself free, but he only ended up sinking lower. The swirl of water was growing rapidly, and the more he sank, the closer it got to him. The ground was literally falling out from beneath his feet.
He tried to scream, but a cough strangled him instead. Up to his chest in the water, now, his hands let go of his leg to quickly splash and push through the current. He’d never learned to swim. He was barely able to walk, as it was. “H-help!” he finally called out just was the water flooded over his neck and shoulders. Finally, he felt his legs get loose from the sand and clay. Now free, but caught in the swirl, himself, he padded opposite to the pushing waters, trying to reach for the solid rock shelf just out of his reach.
Bitter, oil tainted water rushed into his mouth, forcing more coughs and gasps for air. He could barely make a sound past the gurgling and sputtering. His limbs flailed, his eyes shut tight, and his lungs seized up. A cold wash overtook his head, and it became so much harder to fight the rushing waters. He started to fall limp, too exhausted to carry on. All thought went to empty, frigid fear. Everything faded to black as he tried to hold his breath.
Then there were hands under his arms, and a hard pull to the surface. He was against the ground, wet and cold, and it was bright enough to make his eyes harshly squint. Silhouetted above him was his savior, and as his eyes adjusted, he took in the sight of dark hair, tan skin, and above all else, an orange glow from the left side of his face. “Still amongst the living, I see.” he heard the man say in a low voice, gravely and even-toned.
When his blurry vision focused, he realized the source of the glow was the man’s eye – his unlidded, transmuted eye. His gaze darted between the man’s normal side and his disfigured one, wide-eyed and intimidated. Coughs rattled his chest, loosening the last bits of water that must have been in his lungs. He half-rolled onto his side, and a splash of mucus-laced water left his lips. He felt a couple of pats against his back from the man, who was trying to help the process. He looked back, still caught between which eye to focus on.
The man looked less than enthused, bluntly saying, “Pick one and stare, boy. I don’t care which.” With the invitation, he furrowed his brow slightly, choosing the disfigured side to look at. The skin was tainted black, just like the sclera, and the iris was a fiery orange color, misshapen and luminescent even in daylight. A small smirk formed on the man’s face, and he gave a single nod. “I appreciate your candor.” He reached behind him, pulling Viktor’s cane into his eyeline. “I assume this is yours?” He tried to sit up and grab the cane, but he was still too tired from having fought for his life. A soft grunt escaped as he flopped onto his back again, closing his eyes tight. He felt the cane get placed gently in his hand, and he gripped it for dear life. “What’s your name, son?” the man asked.
“V-Viktor,” usually, he wouldn’t be so keen on sharing his name with a complete stranger, but he’d just been saved by the man, so he felt he owed him honesty, at least.
“Viktor. Now there’s a strong name,” the man mused. “Do you have parents, Viktor?”
“… Mama,” he grunted out while again trying to sit up. This time the man helped him by putting a hand at his back. “The Dauntless… I was trying to get…”
“Whatever ‘the Dauntless’ was, it’s gone now.” The man shook his head, then jutted his chin to direct Viktor’s sight toward the rushing swirl of water, still going strong. “Best leave it in there.” With the reality of his loss sinking in, as well as the stress of having just almost died, he couldn’t stop himself from beginning to cry. The weeping was punctuated by a wet cough, and the man let out a sigh. “You have your life. Don’t let the loss of some frivolous thing keep you from this moment.”
“M-moment?” Viktor said with a hitched breath, wiping at his teary eyes with the back of his hands.
“The moment you cheated death,” the man said with a wry grin. “Can’t you feel it? The rush of having been that close?”
He didn’t feel any sort of rush, he only felt the weight of having been a hare’s breath from dying. He coughed again, his chest growing sore from the exertion. “I…I feel numb. And stupid.” He glowered down at his bad leg, pushing the blame onto it. In anger, he banged his fists on his thigh a few times, stopped by the man taking his hands by the wrists.
“No sense in punishing yourself. Learn your lesson, and live your life more wisely.” The man let his hands go, and pulled his messy brown hair out of his face with a sweep across his forehead.
He shied from the touch, pulling his head away. Another cough. “I…I want to go home, now.”
“Ah, yes. To hide away and nurse your ego. I did the same thing.” The man pushed himself to a stand, holding his hand out for Viktor to take.
Hesitant, he looked at the hand for a few seconds, then took it. He was pulled up o his feet, and got his cane under him before the man let him go. He tugged his shirt to fix it, and took a few shaky breaths. “What do you mean, you did the same thing?” Curiosity got the better of his mouth before his brain could stop him.
“Drowning,” the man said flatly. “The River Pilt almost had me, but I survived.” He smirked with a dry chuckle. Viktor’s eyes were pinned on his eye again. “Oh, yes, I was sore about it. I locked myself away and mulled over why I was still alive. But then I found my purpose. I became something greater from it.” What a strange man. Viktor shrunk away from him a little, but still listened with some level of intrigue. “One day, you’ll look back on this, and realize it was all a part of your story. A building block in the foundation of who you are. Let it be a strong one, otherwise it will crack under pressure.”
Viktor looked him up and down, swallowing. “How did you know what your purpose was?”
The man’s smirk grew back into a grin, and he said, “Do you believe in fate?” Viktor stared silently. “Well, I do. My brush with death was the catalyst to enlightenment. It fueled me with anger. That anger pointed me to my purpose, showing me what I owed the world for my serendipitous survival.” He leaned down to be eye-level with Viktor, which made him draw into his shoulders. “Think about what you owe the world for surviving.” He stood straight again, turning for the opening in the caves near by. “Now run along home, Viktor. Tell your mother. Or don’t. Who am I to say?”
Viktor watched him closely as he sauntered away, noticing the direction he was taking. That was the direction of the doctor’s lab. It clicked. The reason the doctor had told him to go play for the day was because he had a meeting with that strange man. His eyes narrowed slightly as he saw the man vanish into the crags, then he let out a nervous sigh. Stifling another cough, he started his walk home, soaking wet and without his precious Dauntless. This would turn into a flare, for sure, and he wasn’t looking forward to the bed rest and fussing his mother would insist upon.
💔 - crying & taking their rage/sorrow/etc out on a wall with their fist -- @zaunseye (shimmerbound verse)
Things were supposed to work out how Jinx had planned it. The moment Caitlyn and Vi had stepped foot into her trap, they were supposed to be as good as dead. Jinx had even brought Sevika there for backup! With all of the abilities that arm had, it should have been easy to hold back her Caitlyn while Jinx finished off Vi. It was death her sister deserved after everything she had done.
Worst of all? Jinx had to come back home, knowing that Silco would know her failure. Her arm was a shining example of that. When Sevika brought her home, she couldn't even bring herself to look at him. Not even as he asked what happened. "What happened was that I failed! I failed to do what I promised I would!" Jinx let out a growl of rage, as her body flinched at the touch against the bleeding stump. "Those pilties are still breathing because Sevika pulled the plug too soon."
'We're still breathing because you can't do anything, right.' Vi' spoke so loudly that it almost overpowered Silco's voice. But Silco had the advantage with a firm squeeze to round her remaining wrist. "I had Vi right where I wanted her before she pinned me down..." In her rage she used her remaining arm and pounded her fist into the wall, leaving a crack with the impact. "But Isha, she saved me... She protected me."
Jinx calmed down for a moment, glancing over at Isha who looked just as concerned as Silco. "And I returned the favor. Vi's pet enforcer would have shot Isha, but I protected her, and the bullet did this, took it clear off... Hextech..." @zaunseye
