nasty little gremlin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whimsikills) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metalogs2022-06-04 10:20 pm
whimsikills) wrote in metalogs2022-06-04 10:20 pm
the kind of bad that make you feel good - closed
Who: Jinx whimsikills, Silco industrialisms, Harry nepotis
What: Various incarnations of Jinx has Discovered Weed, is showing Harry her workshop and is starting to introduce her shady pals to her even shadier dad.
When: Post-fear plot, pre-kaiju things
Where: The Jinx-Silco household, Central City.
Content Warnings: drugs, likely reference to explosives, murder, drug trafficking, more to be added.
It's not as though the drugs of Central City and the drugs of The Lanes are too different. There are always narcotics, no matter the universe. Different shapes, textures, names - there is a similar plant that is smoked across Runeterra, similar stimulants that are snorted or rubbed between the gums and the teeth. Shimmer, though - Shimmer had been the most successful by far.
There's no Shimmer here, though, beyond what has fused with Jinx's blood cells and inner organs. Weed is a nicer alternative; it mellows the agitation and the constant neuron firing that doesn't allow her to stop. She gets to breathe, for a moment. The others - the stimulants that had resulted in the property damage - are funnier to be on, but she likes the mellowness the most.
It feels nice to float outside of herself for a bit. It makes her more companionable; no less paranoid, but more willing to trust, however briefly.
She had been telling the truth when she said to Harry that she had never shown her workshop to anyone. The one back home - the hollowed out space of the old turbine - had only been to known to Silco and even he had rarely ventured down beyond when he had to. The workshop here is on solid ground, buried deep into the bowels of the old factory-building conversion that Jinx acquired very cheaply due to some, err, rather unfortunate deaths in its construction history.
She's made it her own, neon lights and spray paint. Some of the windows are blacked out with paint, while others allow the sickly hue of the docks in to illuminate the benches. There is something like a stage, where a couch and beanbags sit in a circle; a small table sits in the middle of it all, laced with playing cards, odd gadgets and old notebooks. There are booby traps, too. Tripwires that she half-assedly navigates Harry over and through. In the middle of it all are her little creations: some small grenades, some larger. The carcass of her Fishbones while she works on a new power source. There is a wall racked with old vintage guns, some cannibalised into odder looking hybrids. In the centre of it, where the dim neon lights shine brighter, she spreads her arms wide, grinning. "Ta-da!"
She's very proud of it, obviously. It's all hers, every inch of it. She's been busy.
whimsikills, Silco industrialisms, Harry nepotisWhat: Various incarnations of Jinx has Discovered Weed, is showing Harry her workshop and is starting to introduce her shady pals to her even shadier dad.
When: Post-fear plot, pre-kaiju things
Where: The Jinx-Silco household, Central City.
Content Warnings: drugs, likely reference to explosives, murder, drug trafficking, more to be added.
It's not as though the drugs of Central City and the drugs of The Lanes are too different. There are always narcotics, no matter the universe. Different shapes, textures, names - there is a similar plant that is smoked across Runeterra, similar stimulants that are snorted or rubbed between the gums and the teeth. Shimmer, though - Shimmer had been the most successful by far.
There's no Shimmer here, though, beyond what has fused with Jinx's blood cells and inner organs. Weed is a nicer alternative; it mellows the agitation and the constant neuron firing that doesn't allow her to stop. She gets to breathe, for a moment. The others - the stimulants that had resulted in the property damage - are funnier to be on, but she likes the mellowness the most.
It feels nice to float outside of herself for a bit. It makes her more companionable; no less paranoid, but more willing to trust, however briefly.
She had been telling the truth when she said to Harry that she had never shown her workshop to anyone. The one back home - the hollowed out space of the old turbine - had only been to known to Silco and even he had rarely ventured down beyond when he had to. The workshop here is on solid ground, buried deep into the bowels of the old factory-building conversion that Jinx acquired very cheaply due to some, err, rather unfortunate deaths in its construction history.
She's made it her own, neon lights and spray paint. Some of the windows are blacked out with paint, while others allow the sickly hue of the docks in to illuminate the benches. There is something like a stage, where a couch and beanbags sit in a circle; a small table sits in the middle of it all, laced with playing cards, odd gadgets and old notebooks. There are booby traps, too. Tripwires that she half-assedly navigates Harry over and through. In the middle of it all are her little creations: some small grenades, some larger. The carcass of her Fishbones while she works on a new power source. There is a wall racked with old vintage guns, some cannibalised into odder looking hybrids. In the centre of it, where the dim neon lights shine brighter, she spreads her arms wide, grinning. "Ta-da!"
She's very proud of it, obviously. It's all hers, every inch of it. She's been busy.