A chatty and disobedient offspring, that's what Jinx was.
A small evil monkey who dared to contradict him and escape between his fingers - who allowed herself to think she did not belong to him, by blood and by right.
“It wasn't hard to find you."
Plotch.
“You left a lot of… stuff behind you."
Plic, plic, plic.
Silco takes off his gloves, putting them in the inside pocket of his coat.
“Jinx.”
Splatch.
Silco raises an eyebrow, moving a mushy pink viscera with the tip of his shoe.
“Don't be a little girl."
Plaf.
Silco tilts his chin towards his chest, holding a half-chewed eyeball between his thumb and forefinger.
“I taught you better than that."
A pinkish eye stares at him from the darkness of the alley, studying him.
“There is grace even in death."
“And what about the betrayal? Is there elegance in that too?"
Silco takes off his hat, swiping the brim with his fingers - a black felt beaver, gray ribbon.
“I don't have to apologize for anything."
Crick, crick - crack.
“The old Council of Piltover had to be eliminated."
"You didn't do it very well."
Plotch.
Silco takes a few steps, catches a glimpse of her profile - her back hunched, her mouth ajar.
“You were an ally of him."
Silence.
“You were with him."
“No."
Jinx lifts her face from her prey, blood and flesh between her teeth.
“I died to escape: not to start all over again."
Silco sits on his heels, letting the hat swing between his knees.
“You looked for me, Jinx: you chose me."
Jinx hardens her gaze, dropping a liver to the ground.
“You wanted to be my daughter; my offspring."
My everything.
“It was enough for me to live." she murmurs, staring at him.
Not be alone never again.
Silco brushes a lock of her hair from her cheek, slowly, as if he were afraid to break her and see the Madness devour her again.
Jinx releases an exhausted sigh, leans her head in the palm of his hand, closing her eyes.
Silco searches for her mouth in a kiss that tastes of metal and blood.
• • •
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It started as a game: it all starts like this, doesn't it?
Even the destruction of Piltover, after all.
It had started by infecting small, apparently harmless things: an exchange of roles that had made them no more daughter and father.
Silco had hidden her marks under long-sleeved shirts, black trousers: Jinx wore deeper wounds on her skin and only her eyes threatened to betray their little game.
Anxious. Restless. Excited.
Pain is a dimension they are used to; it's part of their nature and they come back to it every time.
They don’t fear it, they don’t avoid it: they accept it - because every birth is impregnated with blood and black.
This is not the first time they have found themselves like 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 - folded over each other.
It is not the first time that there is blood between her teeth, on her lips, along her chin.
Silco collapses on her body, crushing her under his weight -
- he brushes a braid with his fingertips, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.
Jinx strokes the hair on the nape of his neck - regular movements, which rise from the space between his shoulder blades to his head.
For a few minutes neither of them move; Jinx arranges her legs back around his hips, just curling her lips when 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 drips on her thigh.
She tilts her face towards him, brushing his eyebrows with her fingertips.
Heavy is the crown, poisoned his dark throne.
A big city - metal and glass; monsters and men.
Zaun stood like a bastion of rock and rage in the middle of Runettera, a dense, dark lump of stone and chem prodigies.
Everything died in Zaun, but what survived was merciless - distorted and ferocious.
Sevika watches the king sit beside his 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, listening to her asymmetrical, weak breathing.
"She will make it."
The king is silent, he ignores her.
""Jinx is a sturdy monkey; she will not abandon you."
"Strange choice of words." and roars the voice of the king, a caged predator.
Silco brings his clenched fists under his chin, gives her an annoyed look.
"The court murmurs, sire."
"It always has."