Her Gun to His Head || Jinx x Garou

"Jeez— shouldn't let yourself go hungry this long, kid," said Garou, watching the child ravenously plunge her face into the toasted panini he'd gotten her.

"You're gettin' juice all over yourself— here," he commented, pointing a napkin at her face. "You'll wake up with ants all over ya, otherwise…" he explained.

The kid took it from him and wiped off her chin, like he'd told her.

"Good," he said, giving a little sigh.

'Blue'd better have somewhere safe to keep this one,' he thought to himself. 'Kid ain't gonna have much of a chance when the fightin' starts…'

Garou reached out and forcibly turned her head with his hand to reorient her, so that she wouldn't absent-mindedly walk straight into a nearby street-beggar's tent.

He slowed to a stop after a moment, watching her lick clean her fingers from the sandwich. She gave him an expression of curiosity as he leant down to look at her.

"I want you to tell me somethin', kid," he began. "Why'd you cling to me that day? What were you doin' there on your own…?"

He tilted his head in interest as she seemed to look upward, searching her own mind for the answer to his question.

After a moment, she made a kind of running motion, intermittently turning and looking behind herself.

'We're doin' charades, huh…?'

"What— you run away from home or somethin'?" he guessed.

She pursed her lips, shaking her head.

"Aight— runnin' away from somebody bad, then," he said. "Who…?"

She thought again, before raising both hands to her face, her thumbs and index fingers forming rings around her eyes.

"Somebody with glasses…?" he replied, beginning to feel as though he wasn't really going to learn much more from their interaction.

She supplemented her description by making a gesture of one leaning to the side with a cane.

"Eh… I don't know this one, kid," he resigned. "They do somethin' to your voice-box, or what…?"

She shot him a cagey look in response, so he didn't bother to press the issue.

"Well, whatever… you got away, I guess," he said, "and now you're with me and Blue — you should try to learn from her, aight? She knows how to take care of herself… that's what you should try to be like."

She stared back at him with her wide, amber-colored eyes.

'Hope this is gettin' through to you, kid…'

He gave her a rough pat on her helmet, then stood and resumed walking, hearing her shuffle to catch up with him.

The sign for the bar lay ahead of them.

'THE LAST DROP' — It was a quaint name, he supposed…

Inside, there were people scattered about, here and there, sitting and drinking in the middle of the day. He let the kid cling closely to his side, as he drifted through, toward the bar.

He did remember the guy, from last time…

"Hey— barkeep," he opened, lifting the kid off of her feet and sitting her on the countertop, to the man's befuddlement. "Mind if I leave this one here? Gotta head upstairs…"

The kid didn't seem so pleased about it, while the man's eyes darted between the two of them.

"Oh—" the guy replied, "you're, uh— you're Jinx's friend, right…?"

"Guess so… this one is too," Garou grunted. "Put her to work, for all I care — ain't askin' for a babysitter…"

The barkeep seemed to notice the kid's matching set of pink and blue nails with a vague sense of woe, as she began to clamber down from the bar and take a look at all of the different bottles of liquor.

Garou gave a little scoff in amusement, before turning to head up the staircase across from the bar.

"Hey—" a voice from behind him called.

It was the machine-armed woman, again.

"You just get here now?" she enquired.

He gave a curt nod. "Blue's up there already, I reckon…" he said, returning to climbing the steps.

She joined him.

"You two've got pet names for each other and everything, huh?" she commented.

He gave her a look.

'Just when I thought you might've been cool, lady...'

He heard voices from inside the room as they approached.

The woman used her remaining biological arm to give a knock on the door.

"Boss— it's us," she called.

"Enter…" the old man returned.

Blue sat up a little, when the door opened, flashing a smile at him.

Her old man also gave Garou his attention, while the woman left his side to sit herself down on a couch to the side of the room.

"Please— take a seat," the man gestured.

Blue hopped up off of the desk in the middle of the room as Garou wandered over, taking a chair next to where he'd been instructed to sit, with a quiet giggle.

He gave her a little nod, hoping she'd buy it — he remained more than a bit reluctant about this whole thing…

"I have a proposition for you, boy," the man opened, tapping off some ash from his cigar. "There is a prison island, off our western shores… countless cells filled with those who would be loyal to me, and to my allies…"

Garou watched him give a short glance to his daughter.

"With our newfound… firepower… I believe we have the ability to take the island, frankly," he continued, extinguishing the cigar and focusing back on him. "Now— I have reason to think that descriptions of your visage have made their way around Piltovan enforcer circles, such that the guards at Stillwater may perhaps even recognize you, fear the sight of you… if you were willing to play the point of the spear on this operation, we could perhaps even release a few of said guards back to Piltover, in order to tout your exploits…"

Garou was left with a feeling of suspicion, by the end of the speech.

"You want me to do all that work for ya…" he replied, turning up his nose a little. "What does that get me, eh…?"

"Infamy," the man replied plainly, holding his gaze.

Garou simply narrowed his eyes at him, losing taste for the manipulative tone of the conversation.

"—We're all gonna be there, though," Blue quickly jumped in, "I mean— I'll be just across the bay, with Fishbones, but…"

"Yes— Jinx will blow a hole, and then Sevika and yourself will enter with the forward team," her old man clarified.

Garou looked slowly back and forth between the two. He was finding it difficult to deny Blue's anxious eyes…

"…When's it all happenin'…?" he finally asked. He noticed Blue perk up out of the corner of his eye.

"We haven't time to waste, I'm afraid," the old man replied. "Topside has rejected my offer for the Kiramman girl — they seem to think I'll be willing to part with the gemstones they inadvertently gifted us, as well. A declaration of war may be a mere hair's breadth away, I feel…"

He seemed to give a look to his metal-armed lieutenant, sitting behind the two of them.

"Tomorrow night," he stated. "See the preparations made…"

"Done," the woman replied, standing and taking her leave.

Blue jauntily turned to him, after she'd left. "Didya leave Isha downstairs with Chuck…?"

He hummed in the affirmative. "Dude at the bar, yeah."

Her old man leaned over the desk, to address them both.

"I must know," he began, "this… child you two seem to have found — are we certain that she doesn't still belong to somebody…?"

They both looked at one another, but Garou figured that he probably knew more of the answer than she did.

"Kid said it was tryin'ta escape somebody," he offered with a shrug. "Ran into me at one of the bridge checkpoints… wouldn't stop followin' me, so…"

The old man looked to be mildly disturbed by the information.

"Mm… well— in any case," he said anyway, "we still have some safe-houses littered about… I'd like to keep her in one of them for the time being — I need both of you focused…"

"—After tonight, you mean?" Blue said. "I don't want her to be alone for longer than she has to…"

He gave her a look. "…Be here before noon, then — someone will be here, ready to move her."

He saw Blue nod along.

"Well," her old man said, beginning to get up from his chair, "there is much to be done…"

"Need us outta your hair, then?" Blue joked.

He remained straight-faced. "Please ensure that the weapon will be ready…"

"Yeah, of course…" she said, quietly.

Garou slowly stood up after she did, the two of them heading for the door.

"Okay, well," she added, "we'll see ya tomorrow, then?"

The old man surprisingly gave them both something of a smile, turning from his window.

"We're about to affect everything, Jinx…" He spoke with a kind of sentimental tone. "This one won't be for the faint of heart — do prepare yourselves…"

"'Bout ta have a town full of prisoners, you mean," Blue jested.

"Of Zaunites, seeking retribution…" he replied, pausing for a moment. "Go on, you two — and don't be late tomorrow."

Blue hummed in agreement, as they finally left.

Garou thought it interesting, seeing the two of them pal around, more or less…

He had so few memories of his own mother, but… the ones he had, well, they were all good ones… it was where he usually went, during periods of isolation…

"—you listenin' to me? Garou?"

He took a moment to focus his eyes — Blue was standing in his face.

"Eh…?" he managed.

She smirked a little. "Well, at least you don't get on me for spacing out every now and then…"

He shook his head. "It's nothin'… c'mon, let's go," he said, moving past her.

"I was just asking if you wanted to go to the docks again, tonight?" she said, catching up with him as they headed downstairs. "I've gotta set up my shot, and everything…"

"Uh," he replied, "sure… yeah, I can come with…"

She was quiet for a moment. "Well… unless you got somewhere else to be…?"

Isha interrupted the exchange, running over to them with a pair of corkscrews in hand.

"Oh— hey, kiddo," Blue said. "These for me? What're they for — removing eyeballs or somethin'?"

Garou trudged over to the bar, catching the barkeep's eye.

"Have somethin' carbonated…?" he asked.

"Oh, uh, yeah," the man replied, "could give you Jinx's usual, if you wanted…?"

Garou gave a glance back at her.

"Sure— I'll try it…" he said, tapping his fingers on the countertop.

"Chuck!" Blue called from behind, just as the man began to mix up his drink.

"Uh, hey," the man returned, "you, uh, want one too…?"

Garou turned to see Blue raise an eyebrow.

"Chuck— who told ya you could share my secret-recipe grenadine sweet-drink with somebody else…?" She leant impishly over the bartop. "Thought that was meant to stay between you and me…?"

The man stood dumbfounded.

'She sure likes to have her fun…' Garou thought to himself.

He rose from his stool, so that he could reach over the bar to where some tall glass bottles were kept.

"Here, pal," he said to the man, who tentatively resumed shaking up the metal canister containing the drink. "We'll take three to go, aight?"

"N-no problem…" the man replied, beginning to distribute the orange beverage between the three bottles.

The kid clambered up to sit between them at the bar.

"Isha'll take a straw, Chuck," Blue grinned.

The man obliged, looking eager to return to some other duty which didn't involve being Blue's conversational plaything.

Garou grabbed his drink and slid off of the stool, heading for the door.

"Take it easy, bar-man," he called behind him.

The girls joined up with him by the time he made it outside.

"Whad'ya think…?" Blue asked him, nodding toward the drink. "I have it, like, every time I'm here…" she giggled.

He took a look at the bottle, with a nonchalant expression.

"Reminds me of back at sea," he replied. "Y'know— oranges…"

She laughed. "Well, you figured out the recipe, I guess — better take it to the grave…" she jested.

He gave an amused scoff.

The kid stood beside them, noisily sucking in air with her straw as she slurped up the last few drops of her drink, having finished before the both of them.

"You did feed her, right?" Blue said in surprise.

"Eh?— she was just as hungry then, too…" he responded.

The kid grinned.

"Probably just growin', or somethin'…" he surmised.

"Well, if she's growing, then—"

Blue unholstered her pistol suddenly, popping the clasp off of the front of the thing so that the glowing marble would fall out, into her other hand.

The kid eagerly reached for it, with wide eyes.

"Yeah— remember these things?" she said to her. "Just wait 'til you see what I'm making for ya, back at the shop…"

She stood up again, giving him a glance.

"Kid gets a gun too, eh…?" he said.

She grinned. "Not exactly…"

He cocked an eyebrow, taking a swig of his drink.

"Oh—!" Blue said suddenly. "I forgot to get him to fill this thing up for me…"

She'd taken out the brass-looking needle contraption he'd once observed her holding.

"…Fill it up with what— the purple stuff?" he asked. "What for…?"

"I don't know— for just in case, I guess…" she replied. "Whatever— maybe I'll just pop by Singed's place real quick, seeing as we're nearby..."

She quickly swapped bottles with the kid, so that she'd have some more to drink, returning her straw as well. The kid was more reluctant to part with the marble, but she handed it over. Blue shoved the thing in her pocket.

"Don't wait up— I'll meet'cha's back at mine," she said, beginning to move in the other direction. "You know how to get past the thing at the door, right…?"

"I figured it out last time…" he shrugged.

"Isha— don't let him blow himself up…!" she called back.

The kid gave him a mischievous smile.

He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah— you just volunteered yourself, kid…" he said.

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

He had begun to feel as though he held his palm against the hazy, fleshy barrier of an unknowable new threshold… of some frightening, advancing phase of being which surpassed metabolism — surpassed humanity itself…

Viktor had found himself contemplating a great many things, while he dared himself to proceed with his mission… it was only that…

'The human heart — it must surely hold some further significance than the mere crude function which it serves…'

He shook his head, dismissing such thoughts as superstition.

'How timely, that these hang-ups should plague me now…'

It was all that was left of his body that remained unchanged — it was, after all, his lungs which required correction, he hypothesized.

He traced his fingers under his shirt, over the transition between the skin on his chest and the purple, metallic fibers which now made up his abdomen.

He in fact felt no need to hunch anymore, as he sat upon a small rock-face overlooking an outdoor enclave which he once called home.

'Would I be a… creature to them, now…?' he briefly wondered.

Somehow he hardly thought so — the Undercity was a melting pot of all manner of peoples, the strangest of which having no less claim to a rung on its ladder.

'Perhaps more of a food chain, than a ladder…' he ruminated. 'Rather a difficult place for a mere scientist to prosper…'

Unless, of course…

He stepped off of the edge of the rock-face, meeting a twenty foot drop down to the ground, the cool air rushing across his face as he fell.

He took care to curl the tips of his toes upward, as he'd practiced earlier from a lesser height, landing upon the balls of his feet and buckling both his knees and hip flexors in order to compensate for the force of inertia upon his body.

He slowly rose back a standing position, regaining his breath.

'Most exhilarating…' he thought to himself.

He suddenly keeled over, as his airway momentarily failed him, reducing him to a fit of coughs.

He wiped the drool from his lips, at its conclusion.

'It is only flesh…' he concluded.

He occupied his short walk back with thoughts of his old lab in Piltover — a space he'd attempt to recreate down here, perhaps with some help…

It was a regret of his that the word of goodbye he'd given to his kind assistant had been as brief as it was — he supposed he hadn't been so sure who he could trust…

'Jayce certainly would not have allowed the Hexcore to have been brought down here, to the Undercity…' he dwelled.

He was left wondering, however, as it pertained to Miss Young… she did mention something about her having humble beginnings…

Perhaps he could have invited her to join him, instead of leaving her up there, at the Academy…

He sighed, shaking his head in dismay at the sight before him — sewage runoff, toxic fumes spilling from cracked mains piping, micro-fragments of waste embedded in the very dirt…

Why would she come with him, here? — this place was not fit to be a home for anybody… not with what Piltover had allowed to happen to the place…

He certainly didn't blame her — a mere cog in the machine, just as he had been, before he'd sprung free… her path was her own to forge, now…

He pressed open the creaking metal door to his old friend's abode, stepping back inside.

The place was all but emptied out — Viktor hadn't quite expected him to have left so soon…

He gave a careful sideways glance to the large, steel lockbox embedded in the wall in the corner of the room, to which Viktor held the key — it seemingly remained shut and untampered-with.

An unsealed envelope lay on the table in the centre of the room. He picked it up, peeling out the letter from inside:

~

These few days of collaboration have proven most insightful, however I do not suspect your progress will be hampered by my absence.

My relocation is only in the interest of protecting the fruits of my work — I am certain that our paths will cross again, my friend.

S.

~

Viktor folded the note back up and placed it in the pocket of his vest.

He scanned around the room, imagining the crew of people it must have taken to have had the entire contents of the lab transported overnight…

He stepped over to the lockbox Singed had allowed him to use to safeguard the Hexcore, reaching underneath the collar of his shirt for the necklace containing its key.

A sound from behind him caused him to freeze — somebody was attempting to enter.

He'd locked it behind himself, so the stranger resorted to knocking on the door.

Viktor considered simply remaining silent and hoping for the person to leave, but he wandered over instead, out of mere curiosity.

He slid open the vision panel in the steel door.

'A young girl…?'

"Oh— you're not Singed…" she said, in animated fashion.

"Uh, yes… I'm afraid to say that you will no longer find him here…" he replied.

The girl raised an eyebrow, attempting to peer behind him.

"He didn't croak, did he…?" she said, perhaps as a joke.

"I— no…" Viktor responded, pausing for a moment. She seemed to be by herself…

He decided to open the door for her.

"Oh— thanks, stranger," she returned, stepping inside with him. He locked it behind her, again.

"Jee, this place looks kinda nice without all of the weird, creepy jars of body parts…" she murmured, seemingly to herself.

"I hope you don't mind my asking," he began, "but— what business do you have with him…?"

Instead of answering him, she seemed drawn by the shimmering nature of his extremities.

She pulled a pistol from her belt casually, gesticulating at him with it. "Whoa— what'cha got goin' on with your hands there, mister…?"

He did his best to remain calm, in the face of her supposed threat. She was just a kid…

"I… am a scientist — much like him," he replied, "however, I haven't the luxury of willing test subjects…"

She seemed to buy his explanation.

"Well," she responded, "I do know somebody with a metal arm, so, who am I to judge…?"

She looked around the place a little more, before turning to him again.

"So, what— he just up and left?" she wondered.

It was his turn to be drawn to something of hers this time — he couldn't shake the feeling, that…

"Pardon me, miss," he began, "but… what exactly is that, hanging from your belt…?"

She followed his pointed finger, toward the item of interest. She unclasped the painted, jagged metal canister from her belt and held it up.

"You'll forgive me if I don't let'cha hold him," she commented. "He has the tendency to blow his lid…"

The gears were beginning to turn, inside of Viktor's mind.

"Do you mind me asking— who gave that to you…?" he enquired, careful of tipping his hand.

"Uh, what should I say— me, myself and I?" she replied. "Now, you gonna tell me where your buddy went, or what…?"

'Do I form connections where there is merely coincidence…?' he thought earnestly.

He'd been certain that whomever it was that had designed the grenade which had almost killed him in his effort to dismantle it some weeks ago must also have been in possession of the stolen Hextech gemstone…

At the very least, he'd deemed such an individual the most likely to have been capable of harnessing its energy, with the benefit of his and Jayce's research notes…

"I'm afraid he has neglected to share that information with me…" Viktor finally responded. "He… foresees some type of danger… from Piltover…"

The girl's expression turned glum, as she leant with her back against the surgical table.

"Right— so, I came all the way down here for nothin', then…" she said.

"…What was the request, if I may ask…?" he wondered.

"Ah, just… he's got this special strain of Shimmer— it's whatever…" she mumbled.

Viktor eyed her for a moment.

He slowly slipped his hand inside of one of his vest pockets, drawing out his own vial containing the Shimmer variant of which he presumed she spoke.

"You… desire this…?" he asked.

She looked surprised.

"Oh— he… gave you some too, huh…?" she replied.

Viktor took a moment.

"I… would be willing to part with it…" he offered.

"Yeah…?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "What'cha want for it…?"

"Nothing," he replied plainly, sauntering over to her and placing it in her hand. "I require nothing… though, I plan to set up for my work in here," he continued, wandering over to the lockbox in the wall. "Perhaps… you'd be inclined to visit, sometime."

He unlocked and wrenched the thing open, retrieving the case which contained the Hexcore.

He saw her take some interest in the sounds it made, even from inside of the case. He placed it on the table, beside her, but left it shut.

"My name… is Viktor," he said to her.

"Oh— uh, Jinx," she replied. "I— uh, okay… I'll come visit you I guess, like, tomorrow, maybe…"

As she holstered her pistol, he managed to get a slightly better look at it… at the dull engravings on the face of it…

He couldn't help but conclude upon their resemblance to the Hextech runes he and Jayce had once formulated…

He nodded. "I'd like that very much, Miss Jinx..."