Jinx glances at her cell door in plain annoyance as she hears it slowly, painfully creak open, watching her esteemed jailer march on through moments later. It's tú, the heroic Piltie! The enforcer who took Zaun's most notorious criminal down and locked her up in Stillwater Hold, all by himself! Mighty, huh? Though not as mighty as Claggor.
Ah, I blew him up.
Vander!
Blew him up, too.
Not as mighty as... Vi, then. She isn't dead, I think. I hope.
Sat on a dusty mattress, Jinx crosses her skinny arms in front of her flat chest in obvious appraisal, the back of her head pressed against the dirty stone wall as she stares him down. And, as always, it doesn't take long for her to come up with a witty comment she'll probably get beat up for.
"And here he is, my benevolent captor! The saviour of Piltover who managed to capture the evil and craaaazy Jinx!" She can't help but mirthlessly giggle to herself—she is, like, hella evil, ain't she? And crazy. And a mass-murderer. And a terrorist. And a family-killing failure. "Life's funny, isn't it? One minute, you're the untouchable hero locking up the evil witch of Zaun, and the next, you're just another guy standing in a slimy old box, ready to talk bullshit and gloat at a psycho with legendary trigger fingers." She prattles on and on, twirling one of her long braids around her finger as she fakes nonchalance.
