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Chapter Text

The tunnel to her lair was dimly light by flickering chem-bulbs. The path down was shadowed and crooked. The bare metal stairway was rusty, rickety and without a safety railing. It groaned with warning when any weight was applied to it. This was all purposeful. She didn’t care for visitors.

Most visitors anyway.

But the caller descending the steps was the exception, in every possible way.

He was an urbane gentleman in his late forties, very late forties. Medium-tall and thin but not scrawny. His lean body was hard with tight, compact muscles. A lifetime of working and fighting combined with a Shimmer-enhanced metabolism kept him in trim and fighting form. Healthy and dying and the same time, he often pondered that paradox. His attire was tailored and expensive, had spent a childhood filled of lack and a youth that been filled with want. The mature man had no interest in spending the rest of his life like that. The finer things in life didn’t make him soft. Nothing made this particular man soft.

Nothing except her.

The black, red and gold boots on his feet were from the best cordwainer in Piltover. The black slacks, the ornate holster-vest with gold, real gold, buckles and snaps were from the most exclusive topside tailors. As was his red shirt and white caveat tie, both woven of murderously expensive imported Ionian silk. His short brown hair, streaked with iron-gray, was fashioned in a crisp undercut. Slicked back with pricy and fragrant pomade. The cigar in his left hand was also imported, the finest Demacian tobacco and cost one golden hex per stogie. He bought them by the case. His personal colors were out of season topside, pastels this year, but he would have passed muster at any sun-kisser social gathering.

If you didn’t consider his hands or face.

The only parts of the man not covered in expensive accoutrement. They didn’t match the fashion of his oppressors. His hands were large, his fingers long with short clipped nails. They were not soft or pretty. The knuckles were bulbous from being broken and broken again. The palms and fingertips were covered in callouses from decades of holding pistol grips, knife handles and pencils. But they were still nimble and quick. He had been a natural pickpocket and kidney-stabber. And his Tarot-dealing, and cheating, skills had been well known. They were not gentle or loving hands. They were capable of expressing the vast, snarling and roaring love that composed the inner core of him. But only ever to the very few people in his life that he had loved, all of whom were dead.

Except for the teenage girl who awaited him at the end of these dangerous stairs.

But those oversized ore-scoopers were as pretty as pictures when compared to his face. He been attractive in his youth; sharp cheeks, pouty lips and dancing blue-green eyes. Almost fey in his appearance. But time and life had not been kind. His cheeks were still sharp but they were withered as well. His age made his large, hooked nose more vulture-like. His lips had thinned and paled and his remaining blue-green eye was hard and cold. But all that was frankly nothing compared to the left side of his face. Which was the side of his face that displayed his true nature, his worst memory and stood for his greatest achievement.

The infamous Eye of Zaun.

Silco.

That moniker referred to more than his left eye. It also referenced the horrific scar that devoured a large chunk of his face. It began on the left side of his hairline and the wide dark red mark pushed down his temple, obliterating his eyebrow. The scarring covered his entire socket. The attack hadn’t scooped out his eye, not that it mattered in the end. The cheek below the eye was riven and gouged, tapering down to his upper lip. Nowadays, the scarring was stabilized, angry and red under the flesh-colored makeup he wore when he left the Drop. But the scarring wasn’t what made him the Eye. The genesis for what was now the most powerful gang-symbol in the Undercity, what people had scrawled on their clothes and tattooed on their flesh was the literal eye itself. The orb was black as pitch and the iris was a bright orange-red that was considered quite demonic looking.

That was what everyone stared at when he stepped out of the shadows to make his deals. The whispers of the Eye began. The whispers became roars when he ascended to power and he reclaimed that story of fear, respect and superstition from the streets as the symbol of his power. Zaunites love a good sump-tale told around a barrel fire.

The story that was told and re-told throughout the Undercity was that Vander carved his face up with a knife. The same blade that was always on Silco’s waist, that he carried it as sign that he had overcome death itself. The streets were half-right, half-wrong as usual. He did carry Vander’s old knife as a way of thumbing his nose at fate but that blade hadn’t touched his flesh.

Vander did that with his hand.

Fingers, thick and powerful, raked down his face as he had struggled against a man almost twice his size. Fingers that once caressed his face with love and affection, clawed at him. Slashed at his face like…like…...like a wolf. But the gashes weren’t what almost killed him. His life had been nearly taken by the filth of the Pilt. The river that marked one of the boundaries between Piltover and the Undercity was horribly polluted by generations of runoff from the Fissure mines. The contaminated water flowed into his mouth, his eye and his wounds as Vander attempted to drown him. It was a day or so after his escape from that soul-shattering betrayal that he first noticed. It became apparent when the first veil of pain lifted. His wounds were not healing right.

Infection. Such a horrid word.

The pain of the attack was replaced by the agony of infection. An infection that would not heal no matter how many antibiotics he took or how many back-alley medics he saw. He would have died within the year if he hadn’t found Singed. The exiled doctor from Piltover was half a sorcerer. The strange man who made a concoction that slowed the cancer devouring him. He said it could be contained but not destroyed. That he could live…...if he could live with the pain, which would be never-ending. The laconic Piltie raised an eyebrow when he smiled at that, pus-soaked bandages that were matted to his face crinkling.

Silco was old friends with pain. It was perhaps his oldest friend.

Most people feared and hated the physical sensation of pain. They assumed pain was always a punishment, a sin, a sign of failure. It wasn’t. Silco understood the sweet secret of pain. The hidden meaning and joy of it. Physical pain was something you could feel, something you could control and something real.

Pain meant you were alive.

The aches, headaches, vertigo and nausea became part of his existence. He had haggled for his life and thought he came ahead on the deal. Singed’s ever-evolving Shimmer cocktails kept him alive and even stronger than he had been. He had always been to find uses for pain.

Including uses that many would find unusual.

Silco was now the richest and most powerful being in the Undercity. He was a power topside as well and he was fomenting a revolution that would one day give birth to a new nation. But all that was done for the day. The paperwork signed, the meetings done and Sevika debriefed. He was free for the evening and he immediately headed down into the darkness.

To her.

The entryway at the bottom of the stairs was booby-trapped of course, but he knew where the tripwires were. The corroded hatch that served as the door to her domain had a wheel lock but one couldn’t just turn it. The mechanism was well-oiled and shiny compared to the rest of the door but that was the lure to just spin it. Which would detonate the explosives hidden in the frame of the hatch. Silco stuck his cigar in his mouth and grabbed the wheel with both hands. He began to turn it right, left, right and left rapidly in a certain order. There was a soft clicking sound as he disarmed the trap and he pulled the hatch open with a grunt.

‘SSSSRRREEEEEHHHH’

The shrieking of cave-bats announced him as he stepped on the turbine blade that faced the entrance. Her sanctuary was as dangerous and unstable as she was. Decades past an airship plummeted down this crevasse and remained trapped between the walls above the abyss of a played-out mining trench. It was close to the Drop but isolated, people knew better than come near her lair. It was the ideal place for her to build and test weapons; as well as to rage and be alone. It was perpetually dark, illuminated only by the light she chose and only false step…...it was a death trap.

Perfect for his Jinx.

Purple, pink, blue and yellow lights in a chaotic pattern showed the way to the engine block. Eye-watering and it was accompanied by blaring chem-punk music from her phonograph. But Silco was used to all that. His eye was on the fresh drawings on the turbine blade under his feet. His brilliant daughter was rightfully known, feared and hated for her bombs and bullets but virtually everyone neglected Jinx’s most obvious talent.

She was an artist.

The metal of the turbine, the engine block and body of the airship that she used as living space, the rock walls of the cavern they stood, all covered in her art. Jinx never just inhabited a place, she exploded in it.

Her primary way of self-expression was the graffiti. Jinx often had an oil crayon in her hand and always had a couple in one of her pockets. If she stilled or stopped, she drew. On whatever was available to her; papers, crates, walls, floors, ceilings, rafters, animals or people. Wild, primitive drawings and so expressive without the intent to be. Whatever lies came out of her mouth or danced in her eyes, Jinx told the truth in her drawings. They were an eclectic collage of repeating images of grief, rage and madness. Only he understood the pattern of explosions, weeping little girls, dead boys, monster sisters, monkeys and skulls. Scenes of violence, regret and hate. Endless apologies to the spirits who haunted her footsteps and lived in the shadows of her mind.

She drew them all; over and over. Years of vomiting out her emotions, so many renditions that the formerly smooth turbine blade was bumpy now, ridged with her work. Jinx worked primarily in pinks, purples and blues but other colors made appearances. Especially in the rows about him. Reds and golds ran alongside her colors, she mixed the shades together for the story of them. A pink/blue little bomb-girl and red/gold man-shark and how they saved each other and fell in love. It was sweet, even with all the dead bodies around them.

As a true artist, Jinx wasn’t defined by one medium or method. Silco brushed aside one of her hanging effigy-fetishes. The foreboding dolls littered the cavern. Hanging from wires, nailed to walls and sitting on her sleeping couch. Jinx reacted violently if the totems of her dead kin were disturbed, he tended to ignore them. He continued onto the central spoke where she spent most of her time and efforts. He smiled at a rack of freshly completed examples of her other area of expertise.

Death.

Grenades, chem-tech bombs, blasters and Shimmer-powered battle masks that turned gangers into berserkers. Jinx was the finest engineer and weaponsmith he’d ever known but her deadly creations were more than weapons; they were art. The designs were all shaped differently, uniformity was her enemy as much as the Pilties were. Fragmentation grenades with razor-sharp mouths, blasters with barrels shaped like sump-vipers and……he didn’t know what the spikey metal whumps were. Mines perhaps? Her art was also her paintbrush because while Jinx used many different types of canvases; flesh was among her most favored. She created masterpieces of carnage on the bodies of his enemies and those who crossed her.

Thanks to his teachings, Jinx was a virtuoso of pain and he was her favorite canvas of all.

The middle-aged man walked past the armaments and around the main vertical shaft of the airship. His presence here tonight had nothing to do with weapons. No, he and Jinx had been collaborating on an art project for several years now. It was time for another session. His destination was one of the turbine blades embedded in the far cavern wall. It was different than the rest of her domain in several respects. First, the metal was clean and bare; the art here had a centralized location and it was wasn’t splattered about like the rest of the former airship. And it wasn’t cluttered, there was only one cluster of objects at the center.

Several high-powered work-lights on tripods illuminated an elaborate tattoo chair. A heavy thing made of burnished brass that was etched with Vastayan glyphs. It had green cushions on the seat, legs and arms. There was a tool cart and stool next to it. The top rack on the cart had a cordless chem-tech tattoo gun on it. The device was slim and handcrafted, made of silver and gold; a prized possession. The lower racks held vials of imported Ionian tattoo ink and other tools. What also made this setup stand-out from its surroundings was how conspicuously clean it was. The gun was buffed, loaded with a fresh chem-battery and needle. The chair had recently been wiped clean, he could smell the antiseptic spray from fifteen feet away.

Silco took a final drag of his stogie and then flicked it into the abyss below. The cherry made it into a falling star as he turned back to the turbine and to a decidedly less clean work cart stacked with filthy tools and metal scrap. He shrugged, he could only get so much cleanliness out of her. The man began to undress; he undid the snaps and buckles on his vest. Silco glanced at the cart and found the cleanest spot on it as he unwrapped the garment and slid it off him. The Chem-Baron smirked as he folded it carefully, placed it on the cart and began to undo his caveat.

The person he knew was watching him hated how methodical he was about undressing.

She just tore her clothes off and dumped them where she pleased. Which was easy for her to do because someone always picked up after her and purchased her new items when she destroyed or lost the old. Not that he could blame her for being a spoiled little monster when he was the one doing the spoiling. That self-awareness didn’t keep him from enjoying the impatient energy he felt in the air as she watched him from the dark. Precisely where Jinx was, he couldn’t say but he knew she was watching. He spent years feeling the weight of her gaze on him.

He placed the silk tie on the vest and undid his shirt cuffs before pulling the garment out of his pants. The cavern air was warm on his skin as he took the top off. It was never cold down here, underground steam vents exposed by mining. Silco wore his pants tight and didn’t use a belt, he undid the front flap and bent over to unbuckle his boots.

“Phweeeeeeeee!!!!”

Silco rolled his eye at the salacious whump-whistle that echoed at throughout the cavern. A man his age, having a cat-caller. After stepping out of his boots, he pushed his pants down his narrow thighs. He folded his trousers and placed them on the top of his other clothes. Now naked, he turned around and walked toward the chair.

He was a naked man but also an illustrated one.

The Eye of Zaun was always dressed from head to toe. No matter the weather, setting or whatever half-naked bohemian fashion trend swept the Undercity. Originally, because he just preferred it that way but over the past four years, a new reason for it bloomed across his frame.

A pale blue shark was the first one. It was small, shaky and squiggly. Placed on the skin and bone atop the physical one in his chest. Done by a hand afraid of failure and harming him in a way he did not wish to be harmed. As if Jinx could ever hurt him. She was the only one in his life he knew never would. Not just because he took steps, any and all that were required, to gain her trust and love. If had just been that, he never would have completely trusted her. A lie is still a lie no matter how well intended.

No, Powder and the girl who opened her skin and stepped out of it like a firelight emerging from its chrysalis, they both offered him that love and trust. It was given almost without hesitation to the monster in the rain who had taken her family and almost gone through with the decision to slit her throat. So wondrous was the heart of this child, one beat of it against his chest and he was undone. Silco wondered about that sometimes, in the night as she snored on that same chest. He was a planner and schemer by nature and there was always a whisper of a question on his mind about this girl.

How much of it had ever been his decision?

He looked down at the tops of his feet and the brown and white monkey faces on them, he wondered again. Aside from the heart, she had started at the bottom of him. By her train of thought, that made the most sense. ‘You gotta start at the roots, Silly!’ Far be it for him to argue with that logic. Besides, the pain was so exquisite that he had no intention of beginning another debate he would lose. And it made her so happy.

Making Jinx happy had become very important to Silco. Too important according to some but they didn’t understand. None of the fools, and that included that persistent whisper in his head, understood. If he had the light and warmth of Jinx’s happiness, he didn’t need the sun that Topsiders denied them.

His ankles were ringed with barbed wire, drops of ruby-red blood dripping off the points. His left calf was covered in twisting sump-vipers. Done in metallic green scales, she had created a new shade of jade for them. The eyes of each snake were mismatched; one blue and one black with a red-orange dot. They were all eating their own tails. Jinx had unintentionally created one of the oldest representations that sentient beings had used to express the concept of infinity. Silco had explained this to her once but the girl just shrugged on his lap and went back to playing with his tie, not really caring.

The other calf was a map of Zaun wrapped around tight muscle. Small houses and buildings connected the roads over his veins. The skin between filled in dark colored representations of mines and trash heaps, it was very detailed. She spent a week on that map. His bony kneecaps had gold stars etched over them. That wasn’t something she came up with; it was old ganger sign. Stars on your knees meant you bowed to no one.

The sharks on his thighs had a foreign flair. Jinx had come across a book about the Buhru people of the Serpent Isles. She fell in love with their culture of tattooing, different yet very similar to that of the Undercity. The different castes and positions each had different markings tattooed on their chests, shoulders and faces. Jinx had been delighted to discover that the Buhru considered sharks to be the sigil of chiefdom. Now his upper legs were decorated with aquatic predators. The Buhru designs spoke to Jinx with their angular fins, interrupted lines and square bodies. It reminded her of her own graffiti.

They wrapped around his thighs. The forked tails on the backs of his knees, boxy bodies and fins swimming upward on the front with open jaws at his hips. The left in pink and the right in blue. The symbolism of him being a chief in her colors was not lost on him. Jinx so enjoyed saying things without saying them.

While his hands had been spared her needle, they were not unmarked by her. There was fresh bite on his left hand. A half-moon of indentations on the web between his thumb and index. A sudden and vicious turn of her head when he cupped her face for a post-injection kiss. That sudden pain washed away the Shimmer fog and set his agenda for the evening. No words were exchanged and the girl disappeared into the office rafters with smirk and flourish of braids. Jinx often spoke to him without words. Pain was both enticement and demand, Silco loved the former and only accepted the latter from her. Tonight was to be another night of stories.

The story of Silco began at his wrists. For decades he resisted the common practice of ganger tats. He wanted declare his bravery and skill with deeds and he sneered at the old traditions. A boy’s arrogance became a man’s habit and he ascended to a barony without such decorations. But like with all things in his life, that habit blew away like ore dust on a Fissure wind at the whim of Jinx.

“I want to draw your story, Silly.”

And that was that.

His tale began at the wrists, small pickaxes and rocks of Fissure ore. He had been born in the deepest darkness of the Undercity, a self-made man who started at the literal bottom. Then came the blades and tally-marks on his forearms, Silco had killed for the first time when he was ten years old. Some street fight, he couldn’t even remember the reason for the scuffle, he just remembered the look of surprise on the other boy’s face when he stuck the knife in his heart. Vander, big even then, beat two death with his bare hands that day and Felicia looted the bodies after. Ah, childhood in the Fissures.

The blades transformed into chains, crate boxes, piles of coins and handcuffs. Stating that he had earned a few vacations to Stillwater, scores he had taken and the cogs he had made. High on his right forearm was the ‘N.O.Z.’ tag, the symbol of the first revolutionary organization he and Vander formed. Black and red and gold, he had designed the symbol himself. Above that, wrapped around his lower bicep were clenched fists rising out of darkness and flame. Because he was not just a ganger, he was a revolutionary. Wealth and power weren’t the point, freedom was. But the path was not a straight and narrow one. Above those fists was broken blade, a bleeding eye and torn flag.

Betrayal……must not be forgotten.

Darker deeds marked his left limb. The arm of Silco reborn had skull-boxes spiraling up his forearm, telling of how he killed all other leaders and bosses who had challenged him. Smoke rose from their eye sockets, purple Shimmer smoke. The smoke transformed into vials filled with golden hexes, linked around his bicep. Each of his shoulders was a topped with a crown. Not an elegant golden design like a king in Demacia or old Shurima would wear, no. The Undercity was many things but elegant wasn’t one of them. The crown she envisioned for the Eye was as brutal as his reign required him to be. Made of twisting dull brass and jagged spikes of Fissure ore, encircled by blood-encrusted razor wire. Grim but appropriate.

But for Jinx, grimness and whimsy went hand-in-hand.

The corner of each crown had a small brown monkey with a white face on it. The monkeys linked hands with other monkeys, forming a simian chain across his collarbones. Each had a unique face; some were grinning, others snarling and not a few were weeping. This permanent decoration was above the simple heart and other that, his chest was unmarked. By her needle anyway, but his toned, hairless chest was also her canvas. Jinx also decorated him with her fingernails, fists and teeth. The scratches, bruises and teeth marks were their own type of art. Because of this habit, she had been hesitant to add more to his front but on his back? A very different story.

It was the story of them.

Silco carried their history on his back. The majority of his time in this chair over the past several years had been devoted to this piece. Most who knew her thought that Jinx never planned ahead more than thirty seconds but most people were also fucking idiots who didn’t understand her genius. His daughter saw the entire world……her version of it anyway and Jinx’s world was filled with pain and beauty. Silco was happy to be part of it.

His lower back, right above his ass, was ringed by flames and rain. At the base of his spine knelt two figures. One small and blue, holding stick figure hands to its face and tiny blue tears falling from its eyes. A red figure knelt over her and words floated over its head.

‘Hello little girl’

Behind his representation was the wreckage of the Cannery and behind hers was a pile of the dead. Brown, green and orange corpses and behind them, another red figure walking away. Then the story continued up several of his vertebra. The little blue figure leaps on and knocks over the red figure. They embrace and more words float above them.

‘It’s ok. It’s ok. We will show them. We will show them all’

Then with ink and needle, Jinx told the story of growing up at his side. Carrying her to their new home at the Drop. Feeding and bathing her. Holding her hand and hugging her across his muscles. And protecting her, so many small scenes of the red man with a glowing eye protecting the little girl from monsters made of wild scribbles. The pain from those sessions had been awful but the tears she shed in those moments hurt him far worse. But it all wasn’t sorrow, far from it. A girl is given a cave for her to grow, play and invent in. Jinx who was Powder starts smiling again.

On his back the blue girl gets bigger. She builds devices, she trains with a green ogre, she sits on his desk and holds an injector to his face. Her hair grows and weapons appear in her hands. They both grow and evolve together as they march up his spine.

They whirl around a phonograph, holding hands and dancing, surrounded by music notes. She was the only one left in the Undercity who knew that Silco could still cut a rug or two. Hearts now replaced the girl’s eyes and her hand never left his. Exploding hearts and monkeys crept up his shoulder blades. The next duo on his spine was of the taller blue girl back dropped by a blooming Zaunite Rose. She was kissing the red man now and there was a red line of blood running down one of her legs. Then, above that, they merged into one twisting purple drawing symbolizing their first time together. It was very abstract and romantic, surprisingly given the pornographic graffiti she covered the Lanes with.

Finally at the center between his shoulders; they stood together. Silco and Jinx. Silco was standing in his overcoat, holding his hands out, a blade in one and his Shimmer injector in the other. There was a crown floating above his head and fire blazing out of his dead eye. Jinx, braids coiling around her like snakes, had Pow-Pow in her hands and fanged, demonic smile on her face. Silco was a marked man, beyond the sense that so many Zaunites were. It wasn’t just his story or his accomplishments. His flesh was a love letter; she had explained. Love had to be real and she didn’t believe things were real unless they bled and felt pain.

You hurt the things you love; Silco understood that completely.

As he moved to the chair; he wondered what’s today’s agenda would be. He didn’t have to wonder for long. Silco didn’t hear or see her approach him out of the surrounding darkness; she was too well trained for that. Had she been clinging to the underside of the turbine blade? Perhaps. And he only sensed her a bare second before she touched him. Silco marveled, once again, at her abilities. He was a born Trencher and virtually impossible to sneak upon.

So her arm coming around his neck to grab his throat didn’t elicit the normal violent reaction. Which perhaps disappointed her, sometimes his girl enjoyed a beating as much as him but not this time. He had been The Eye for days now. It had been a busy week of meetings, negotiations and a few tortures sessions/summary executions. He needed something different today and he told her that by relaxing in her grip. Silco sighed with contentment as chipped pink and teal nails pressed into his skin and her thumb tapped against his carotid.

“Did you want to fuck that bitch today?” Jinx hissed in his ear as her other arm slid around his waist. Silco felt her pierced nipples rub against his back, she was nude, ready for their session. This was the appetizer.

“What bitch are you referring to?”

His acerbic response provoked the desired effect as Jinx did three things simultaneously. Her hand squeezed his throat, the nails on her other hand raked across his stomach and she bit his earlobe. Silco’s eye rolled back as those sweet overtures pain flared across his frame but his girl was a tease. Jinx pulled back before breaking skin.

“You know who I’m talking about; you met with that blonde cunt Margot.”

Yes….Jinx didn’t care for Madam Margot, the Chem-Baroness of the RaptureWalk and a close ally of his. She especially didn’t care for how Margot had always sought to cement their alliance in a more physical fashion. Silco never indulged in those offers but never fully closed the door on them either. Each of his Barons required different method of control. Jinx never understood that subtlety and he had forbidden from her attending his meetings with Margot after she ‘accidently’ dropped one of her paint bombs on the woman.

“I never take Margot up on her…...enticements.” Jinx hummed and squeezed his neck harder while her other hand drifted south to between his legs.

“That old whore wants to play with my daddy-toy and…….”

Silco’s cock had been twitching since he felt her presence behind him. Jinx slid her hand down into his patch of salt-n-pepper pubic hair, stopping to grasp a handful and give it a painful tug before wrapping her hand around his member. Gentle was something that never came naturally to her and he certainly never encouraged such a trait. Gentle people, kind people, people who thought the cost would be too high didn’t thrive in the Undercity. They died in the gutters and the darkness. Silco wouldn’t allow that fate to befall his daughter. He raised her to be strong, merciless and capable of anything.

“UUUGGGHHHHH!!!!”

And so she was.

His overjoyed groan filled the space around them as Jinx squeezed his cock as hard as she could. His right foot jumped up on its own and his back arched as the most delicate part of him was compressed in her hand. His blood was pumping hard but Jinx bent his dick up halted his growth. Agony spread through him as she hissed and licked his neck.

“……I don’t share my toys.”

Then she allowed him to expand, releasing the pressure and stroking him as his cock became, turgid and heavy. His girl ran her hand up and down the all eight inches of him, tugging and pulling down the skin from his head. Silco whimpered, in a very un-Baron like fashion, as she pinched silky flesh between her thumb and index finger. Soon he was fully erect and throbbing. Jinx laid her chin his shoulder and looked down as she lifted his cock up and slapped his erection against his flat belly as she mused aloud.

“But imagining you fucking that wrinkled sow got me thinking. What if you like….had fuck someone else? Or you got raped? Oooo! Oooo! What if Margot chained me up over a pit of acid and the only way to save me was by dickin’ her down real good? Did you ever think of that Mr. Smarty-Eye? No! Jinx has to think of everything around here!”

Her cock-slapping against his stomach turned fast and angry (thwap-thwap-thwap) but Silco didn’t respond. This wasn’t a conversation and he was counting the jolts of pain as she beat him with his own cock.

“So I got to thinkin’, no matter how it might all go down, I can’t let whoever ends up spinning on your Shimmer stick think you’re unclaimed property! So, you know what I’m doing today, Silly Silco? I’m gonna what any proper Lanes gal does. I’m gonna mark my turf.”

Jinx’s arms retract and before he can react, her hands hit his back hard. She starts shoving him toward the chair. Silco stumbles forward, his hard cock bobbing up and down. He reaches the tattooist’s throne and turns around, she plants her palms on his chest and knocks him down on the green cushions. They squeak against his ass cheeks as he finally gets his first look at her.

Janna above and Fiddlesticks below, she’s so beautiful.

The teenager is standing over him, ocean-blue blue eyes glittering as he lifts his legs on to the chair. Naked as he, Silco’s eye scans her hungrily, as he had never looked on her nude form. Each time he drank it in, it was like the first time.

Jinx was small, only five-foot-three in her bare feet. Her most well-known feature being the tidal wave of cerulean-blue hair that reached her ankles. She, or rather he, braided the blue waterfall into two tight whip-like body-length tails that were held together by hexbolt and bullet shell holders. Jinx had a sharp nose, dark eyebrows, high cheekbones and a pointy chin. Her crooked, yellow teeth were framed dark pink lips. Her large jittery eyes were ringed smeared black kohl. Her smile would be considered unpleasant by most.

She was mostly lean and hungry muscle, like an alley cat. She moved like one as well. Always darting from one corner to the next if she wasn’t sauntering like a queen on a fence. Jinx wasn’t lean in the hips, those were round and feminine and always provoked the obscenest thoughts in him about breeding. (Alas, the Shimmer that kept him alive also made him sterile.) Jinx would walk down a street or through the Drop flicking those hips and have every eye on her. Not that many would be so stupid as ever touch her and not just because she belonged to him.

Jinx’s reactions to being flirted with could be……extreme. More than one horny idiot had ended up in this chair before their scrawled-on corpses were pushed into the abyss below them. She liked opportunities to practice her art. He had observed on many of those occasions.

Such sessions were also conducted in the nude. Silco loved to watch Jinx’s pierced teacup-sized breasts rise and fall as she hunched over some fool tied to the chair, painting with her needle and sometimes a knife. How many times had she replaced these cushions? He would have preferred to observe the play of the muscles and movements in silence but Jinx never gagged these ‘volunteers.’ She liked to hear them scream.

But she was wasn’t hunched over in frenzy and they were both silent. So Silco could enjoy the sight of her. He loved her skin. Her pallor marked her as true Zaunite; as did her scars. No denizen of the Undercity came into adulthood without their fair share. They were nation of laborers, miners, criminals and scavengers. And Jinx had the marks of her trade; gunpowder burns and puckered bullet wounds and those of her personal passions. Long slashes on her forearms and inner thighs; inflicted in pain and lust by her and by him. But his eye moved to the artwork he gave her.

Silco always loved art. He used to sneak into the museums of Piltover when he was young and stare at All the beautiful paintings and sculptures. He was a fair painter and sketch artist; he sometimes wished he had been born topside and eligible for artisan apprenticeship. Then as an older and wealthier man; he wished he could be a patron of the arts, like his Piltoverian counterparts. Life has an odd and left-handed way of granting your wishes sometimes.

He was the patron of Jinx.

And as her patron; he provided her with everything she needed and desired. Including tattoos of her own. The right side of Jinx's body was covered in clouds; pale blue clouds; almost shaped like smoke. Circular and fluffy; small and large. They began at her right knee; floating up her outer thigh, wrapping around her hip and buttock. Smaller and numerous ones marked her torso and one even covered the majority of her right breast. They diverged in three directions at her shoulder. Flowing down her arm to the wrist, settling along her back and terminating on her neck just below her ear.

Clouds, another way Jinx was unique in Zaun. He’d never met another Zaunite with cloud tattoos. They lived underground, who cared about the clouds in the sky they rarely saw? But she did and she refused explain why. It was the only secret she kept and the few times he had pressed her on it, she became sullen and silent. It irked him to some degree but he let it go. In the grand scheme of things, how important could clouds be? Getting them had made her so happy. Jinx moved to the side of the chair, her movement snapping him back to reality. She bent over to a lever on the side; winking at him as she pulled it. The lower half of the chair separated into two halves and his legs were forced apart.

“I thought about it and sometimes simple is best. Do you remember how you made Powder smile Silly? I was wasn’t thinking about your dick back then but the core principle is the same. I belong to you and you belong to me.”

Hmmm, he had been thinking of other parts of their artistic journey but he did remember where it all started. In the beginning of them, he smiled at her as she turned to cart next to the chair.

“I remember. That night was important for me too.”

Jinx didn’t pick up the needle gun, she had retrieved a straight razor, tube of shaving gel and a basin of water from the shelf under it. She stepped around the chair to stand between his legs. They locked eyes and spoke simultaneously.

“Bomb.”

“Shark.”

Memories flickered behind his eye as she bent over to ready his flesh to receive her mark.

Chapter Text

Thump.

His clipboard shook slightly and the pencil in his hand moved in the wrong direction. Silco frowned, flipped the utensil around and erased the mangled word. He just wanted to finish this order sheet before he slept. The new Shimmer factory was coming along nicely but Renni needed ever increasing amounts of steel and workers for the rail line construction between sites. The cost was daunting but the demand for Shimmer increased every day and with it, his power base. So Renni would get her rails.

Thump.

The clipboard jostled again, Silco managed to lift the lead tip of his pencil off the paper before he made another scratch but this was getting irritating. He gazed over the edge of the clipboard at the source of the thumping. Silco……didn’t know how to handle this. That in of itself was more irritating than the jostling. He was not a man given to indecision and he certainly knew how he would handle anyone else repeatedly interrupting his work. But she was the exception; Silco was laying in his large bed in his new bedroom at the Last Drop. Leaning back against a pile of soft black pillows, he looked at the source of his confusion.

Silco had discovered in the last eight months that Powder was the exception to all his rules.

The twelve-year-old girl had her back to him. She was laying between his legs with her own bent at the knee and her dirty (they needed to discuss the weekly bathing schedule again) feet swinging in the air. The source of the knocking against his clipboard. She was stretched out on her stomach with her own clipboard between his feet, scribbling madly on the paper attached to it. He looked around the bed. Powder’s drawings were scattered all over the sheets. When did he start allowing this?

He looked at the back of her shaggy blue head, watched her little rat-tail shake back and forth as she hummed and drew. It was paper and oil crayons tonight, sometimes it would be her gadgetry and he would awake in the middle of the night with a spring poking into one of his ass cheeks. Or she’d bring bowls of snacks up from the bar and he’d shaking crumbs out of his sheets for days. Tonight she had skipped into his bedroom wearing an oversized purple sleeping shirt, blue shorts and carrying a sheaf of drawing paper and a tin of oil crayons. (Which he now purchased regularly, she went through them like he went through cigars.)

Powder hopped up on the bed, pushed his legs apart and started drawing. Did she ask permission to do any of this? No, of course not. And undoubtedly, she’d be sleeping here tonight as well. Why did he even buy that brand new bed for the room across the hall? The only things that slept on it were her toys and dirty clothes. He should scold her, send her to her own room so he could finish his work and get a few of hours of decent sleep. That would much easier without her snoring in his ear, kicking him in her sleep, drooling on his pajama top. Or keeping him warm at night like a living hot water bottle. Or hugging him so tightly that felt on the verge of suffocation but also oddly safe. And he wouldn’t have to hold her if she awoke from one her frequent nightmares. He wouldn’t be there to comfort her.

Thump.

After that impact, Silco put down his pencil and clipboard and the next rotation of the foot, he didn’t seize her ankle and begin a lecture. When it was close, he reached out and tickled her instep with the tips of his fingers. Powder shrieked, giggled and yanked her foot away. She flipped on her side and looked at him with huge smile on her cherubic face.

“SILLY! STOP!”

When did the whole ‘Silly Silco’ thing start? He couldn’t even recall and when was the last time someone smiled at him? Vander? Probably him, the man hadn’t realized he…...missed such things. He smiled back, a small curve of his lips.

“What are you drawing tonight?”

Powder bounced up on her knees and handed him her drawing board.

“It’s us after the super-secret revolution. You’re making all the Pilties eat shit!”

It was indeed that. Her sketch, in a delightful array of colors, showed a giant Silco with a crown on his head, breathing fire and back-dropped by a burning Piltover. Powder was standing next to him with a stick of dynamite in each hand and a wicked smile on her face.

“That’s lovely and quite……...”

(SNAP)

His reply was cut off by Powder’s fist closing around the blue crayon in her hand so hard, it snapped in half. The girl’s face worked in fury and she twisted and bent down to the left, like something had been at her right ear. She screamed into the bedroom air.

“SHUT-UP-SHUT-UP-SHUT-UP! HE NOT LYING. HE DOES LIKE THEM. YOU’RE THE LIAR MYLO! YOU ALWAYS HAVE BEEN! HE DOESN’T LIE TO ME!”

There was no one there.

This problem was not abating. The ghosts of those who died accidently at her hand had not departed after the trauma of that night or in the months of deep grief that followed. Silco had first thought her habit of talking to dead people was simply a child’s way of coping with change and tragedy. But he soon realized it was much more serious than that. Powder believed her family was still there and nothing he’d been able to say had convinced her otherwise. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to fix this. There was no repairing what they had both done that night.

“SHUT-UP-SHUT-UP-SHUT-UP…….”

He only had his instincts and he followed them. Silco leaned forward and enveloped the girl with his arms. Crushing her to his chest, Powder pressed her face against his neck. She wasn’t weeping; she was shaking. Silco kissed the top of her head and rocked the small girl back and forth for a few minutes before speaking in a soft tone that no one else in the Undercity would have thought him capable of.

“What are they saying?” He hated treating them like they were real but it was his only option. This could escalate; she had hurt herself before.

“He….and Claggor agreed…...he said that you were lying about liking the drawing. That you don’t like any of my drawings. That you hate how I scribble on everything. That they hated it, that Vi hated it and momma and dad and Vander hated it.”

“They lie.” His response was immediate and said like he was stating a scientific fact. Powder looked up at him; misery, fear and hope warring in her big blue eyes.

“Really?” Silco nodded, rubbing her back.

“Not only do I adore your creations; I’m issuing an official order as your Baron. You are allowed to draw on whatever you like. Paper, the walls, the floors, the furniture, anything. If that’s what makes you happy and brings more of your wonderful art into the world, I give you my permission.”

Powder looked up at him intently, Silco felt his face being scanned for a lie. She always expected the worst from life, even from him. He was working to prove himself to her. He let her stare and see he wasn’t lying to her.
“On anything?” Silco shrugged in the face of her skepticism.

“Test me.”

Powder sat up in his lap and looked at his chest. She reached out and unbuttoned his pajama top. She pulled it open and placed the nub of the crayon she was still holding over his heart. She looked at him again, challenge and more hope in her eyes. Silco squared his shoulders and leaned back more on his pillows. The hard nub of the blue crayon pressed in his flesh and she began to draw. Silco kept his hand on her back and felt her breathing slow down and the shaking stop. He looked down to what she was drawing.

“Why a shark?”

“Cuz you like them and cuz you are one.” Silco chuckled.

“I am?”

“Yeah! You always keep moving. Everyone’s, except me, scared shitless of you and you have sharp teeth. Which you use to eat the things that might hurt me and to protect me……like ya did just now. Done!”

Silco angled his head and looked down at his chest. There was now a blocky blue shark painted over his heart. There was even slash through the eye for his scar.

“Powder, that’s beautiful. Thank you very much.”

The girl’s face turned crimson and she surprised him again. Powder ducked her head down and kissed the shark over his heart. A quick peck before crushing him in another hug. Silco was glad for that; it meant she missed the reddening of his unscarred cheek. Such a strange and marvelous girl. The middle-aged man lowered his head and kissed her blue hair. He hugged her tightly and settled back on his pillows. Work and any residual irritation forgotten as he cupped the back of her back of her neck and stroked her nape. Impulse seized him, he looked over her head at the crayons on the bed. Silco unfolded his arm and plucked a pink one off the sheets.

“Hold out your hand. Palm down.” Powder looked up at him, curiosity on her face and obeyed.

Silco then drew a small pink bomb right under her knuckles. The circle wasn’t great and the fuse looked a straw, the damn thing looked like a coconut from Bilgewater if he was being honest.

“A bomb. For the explosive little girl who blew away all the bad in my life and who….makes me very happy and proud every day.”

Powder looked at her hand, her lower lip trembled and he thought she might start crying this time but she closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath before collapsing back against his chest. She whispered three words against his chest. Silco silently mouthed them back as he held her.

The girl protected him too.

He was beginning to understand that.

****

Two and half years later…….

A nude nymph danced around him. Silco watched her pirouette around the mattress. The bed was fairly new, he had upgraded his sleeping arraignments as the person who joined him almost every night grew herself. It was a Freljoridan King sized longboat of a bed in a dark Ionian oak frame. The bedframe was a four-poster design; the girl liked the wooden pillars at the corners. Swinging and twirling around them like a Bilgewater monkey. It was very, very expensive. A gift from Baron Chross, who like all of his lieutenants, often attempted to flatter or bribe him. A pointless effort but that didn’t mean he was going to turn down this extraordinarily comfortable bed.

And of course his young paramour had jinxed it up.

The wide headboard and posters had felt the touch of her her knife seconds after the workmen who assembled massive bed had left. The deep rich oak headboard received a ‘J+S’ on before he even saw it. And over the next few months, she had made it her own. The wood scored with dozens of markings, smiley faces, monkeys and her usual tags. Jinx had also spray-painted the footboard posters blue and pink, ‘so I don’t bump into them in the dark, durr!’

Such things had never bothered him. Jinx, at his request, was subtle as much as she could be in his areas like his office. Her presence felt in his graffiti-covered ashtray, the single smiley face carved on his desk, her name on his lighter and of course, her nest in the office rafters. Jinx had covered the rafters with her graffiti and hung her grenade fetishes from wires to over his desk. An obvious threat to all who came in supplication to the Eye. It was rather understated by her standards.

Jinx did not feel so constrained in their private rooms. The uppermost floor of the Drop was reserved just for them and she expressed herself as she liked. Her own room was mostly just storage and junk (slowly being transferred to the new cavern space he had procured for her). The large shared bathroom was kept clean (by him) and decorated by her. Silco was now very used to lifting the toilet lid to take a piss and seeing a snarling skull painted on the underside. There were boxes of toys, spare parts and weapons everywhere. The top of every dresser and table was covered in small dolls and representations of them; kissing, holding hands and humping.

Her dirty clothes (also policed by him) were strewn everywhere and led to the bed. The bed she was currently dancing on because she had just gotten a present from him. Silco had awoken before her, gently rolled the snoring teenager off him, fluffed up some pillows and sat up for the performance he knew was coming. Then he reached down and pinched her nose closed. After the flurry of slapping hands that provoked subsided, he asked her what day it was.

“How the fuck should I know?” Jinx surly and sleepily replied. Silco arched his eyebrow, teasing it out.

“You should. It’s tattoo day.” Her blue eyes bugged out and all her remaining drowsiness disappeared.

“TATTOO???? YOU MEAN……” He nodded.

“Yes. I’ve made an introductory appointment for this afternoon…...after the morning’s work of course.”

Jinx sprang to her feet, bent her knees and leapt into the air above the bed.

“FFFFUUUCCCKKKK YYYYAAAA!!!!”

His eye followed the nude girl up and he took a mental snapshot at the apex of her leap. Jinx was almost fifteen now and had blossomed into womanhood. She was……was……perfect in his eye. It wasn’t just her lithe form, small rosebud breasts, burgeoning hips or milky skin that made her perfect at the moment, those made her desirable. His loins ached with lust for her but that was secondary. What made her perfect and made this a moment to treasure was her smile. The girl’s eyes were closed and crinkled, her cheeks dimpled and the open-mouthed smile on her looked so big that he wondered if the top of her head would fall off.

Joy.

Pure, unguarded and innocent joy. This girl didn’t have enough moments like these. Despite all that he tried to give her. The safety, the power, the resources, the love, the affection, all of it…...wasn’t enough. She still wept in the night, he still had to pull her from vents and off of rafters, so still from depression that she like a doll…...or a corpse. He wouldn’t let his eye drift to the scars on her wrists and he wouldn’t let his mind dwell on the times he had almost been too late to save her from herself. No, he would focus on her right now. The perfect moment was just that, a moment, as she plummeted down like a meteor onto him.

Jinx was happy enough to take mercy on the old man at the last second and separated her legs so instead landing with both on his stomach, her knees hit the mattress on either side of his hips and only a gust of air shot past his lips and not a gout of blood as she landed on him. His head and shoulders still rose up from his pillows from the impact, perhaps her plan all along. The bluenette clapped her hands on his cheeks and smashed her lips against his.

Silco always imagined that the closest thing to kissing Jinx would be a cat. She attacked his whole face; starting most viciously with his lips. Jinx’s own bottom lip was covered in scars from her constant nibbling and his own pale lips were now a smorgasbord of the small white scars of her enthusiasm. But there was to be no blood today; she stuck her tongue in his mouth, eagerly seeking out his own. Silco breathed in her morning breath and tasted last night’s fish cakes (he must be more vigilant about her tooth brushing).

As ever, Jinx loathed staying in one place for long. Her mouth moved up to his nose, marching kisses up the bridge before turning her head to his scarred cheek. Jinx stuck out her tongue, flattened it and drug it up his ridged scar tissue. Then she pressed her forehead against his, rubbing back and forth while grinning like a……

…….well, like a cat.

“THANK-YOU-THANK-YOU-THANK-YOU!!!! Best old man ever! Best Silly ever! Best daddy ever! LET’S GO RIGHT NOW! Where are your pants? Where are my pants? Screw’em! Let’s go naked! I’m getting my tats! I don’t need fucking pants! GET UP SILLY! GET-UP-GET-UP-GET-UP!!!!”

She was hollering, bouncing on his lap and shaking his shoulders, Silco let her. Her happiness and enthusiasm felt like a shot of pure Shimmer without the agony that followed. He could bask in it all day but that was the one luxury he couldn’t have. His hands landed on hips, halting that delightful bouncing. His fingers tapped her soft flesh as he spoke.

“We will go for the introductory meeting with the artist after lunch. She is expecting us. But before we launch this airship, we will set some ground rules.” She threw her back and groaned.

“Rules?” He pressed his fingers into her hips until the groan turned into a squeak.

“Yes……rules. I have decided to allow you to do this permanent thing because you proved with your persistence since your birthday when I originally said no to your request that you are serious about it. Since this is not one of your passing whims, I shall see it done.”

‘Persistence’, yes. There been weeks of dead rats in his coat pockets and ‘accidental’ fires on his properties after telling the irate girl he would not permit tattoos, pay for them and if he found one on her person, he’d have Singed burn it off.

“I have procured the services of the finest tattooist in the Undercity……” Jinx gasped and her palms drummed against his shoulders.

“You mean…...?????”

“Yes, Washim. That means you will abide by the following requirements. One, cleanliness. I will not have your skin sloughing off from an infection. You clean yourself and the tattoos as she instructs. Two, nothing on your face. I won’t have you looking like some Heap harlot. Third, you’re not getting my symbol. No Eyes anywhere.”

Jinx frowned and cocked her head at him.

“Why?”

‘Because I wrote that on you the night we met. I wrote it in bloody ink that can’t be seen or washed off.’

“It’s……unnecessary.” She stared for at him for a long second, face blank but then she blinked and the happy brat returned. Jinx sneered and nodded.

“Well durr! I got my own idea anyway. And I’ll follow the rest of your dumb rules because this is gonna be awesome and perfect! Just like me!”

Megalomania was always preferable to depression. Jinx grabbed one of her waist-length braids in each hand and started twirling them while belting out a song.

“🎵Tattoos! For me! Not you! Who’s the coolest? Me, not you! JINX! Not you! The blue bitch with the baddest tattoos! Who? JINX! That’s who! J…I…N….🎵”

Silco sat back on his pillows, folded his hands across his chest and enjoyed her performance. The song barely rhythmed and was incredibly self-aggrandizing. The singing was raspy and atonal. The singer?

Hypnotic.

Jinx had resumed her bouncing and was rolling and flexing her stomach muscles. Her small breasts jiggled slightly, the old man’s eye was focused on them and missed the devilish smile that appeared on her face. Her next bounce was purposeful and moved her from sitting on his stomach to his crotch. Jinx began to grind against him; it didn’t take long for him to respond, it never did. He was wearing red silk pajama bottoms, they were thin and the friction was lovely. His cock twitched and grew under her frottage. Jinx knocked his hands away and dragged her nails down his chest while rolling her eyes at him.

“I suppose I should thank you properly now……” He smirked at her exaggerated sarcasm.

“Oh my, was this the gift that finally instilled gratitude in the most spoiled brat in the Undercity?”

Jinx leaned down over his face and she whispered as he felt her dampness soak his pajama bottoms.

“Gratitude? More like assisting the elderly. Isn’t that what nice girls do?” Silco growled at her as he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both across the mattress so that she was on bottom.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been interested in nice girls.”

Jinx giggled with glee as he pulled his pajamas down.

****

Silco always did his background work; he rather enjoyed the minutia of plotting and planning and had always been well known for his attention to detail. Once he realized that he would be fulfilling Jinx’s wishes, he knew he wouldn’t allow her to inked by half-drunk ganger in a Lanes shack. So he made inquiries and every source told him the same thing. The finest tattooist in the Undercity was a Vastayan immigrant female named Washim. Satisfied, he sent a message tube telling her to clear her schedule and told Jinx of the plan the next morning.

Her studio was located in the most respectable portion of the market district, near the main worker trams to Topside. His long black auto moved silently up the street, emerging from the lingering Grey that marked the border between this district and the Lanes like an aquatic predator rising from the depths. The street emptied like a magic trick; no one was interested in being around when the Eye’s auto stopped. Which it did in front of a small brick building with a blue neon sign above the door in the shape of the Zaunite glyph for tattoo.

The rear passenger door opened and a blue blur shot out of it and skittered to a stop in front of the studio. Jinx whirled and yelled back at the auto, exercising her privilege as the only person who could command him, and so disrespectfully to boot, and live.

“SHAKE A LEG OLD MAN! CHOP-CHOP!”

Silco disembarked from his auto at normal speed; he felt no need to rush. They had an appointment and people waited for him, not the other way around. He adjusted his coat and closed the auto door behind him. She stomped her booted foot against the wet and dirty pavement. Silco tried to not to smile; he was making something of an attempt not to encourage her bratty behavior. There was a small alcove leading up to a wooden door covered in artist tags and band posters. On the brick above the door was his own symbol. Washim had more than willing to offer her services to the baron who protected this district (for a small percentage of the monthly profits) from the unaffiliated street level gangs and Enforcer raids.

The door opened as they climbed the steps and a beautiful Vastayan female stepped out holding a brass and oak box and package of paint brushes. Her golden eyes widened at the sight of them and she stepped to the side. Jinx zipped right past her without a second look but Silco paused and nodded his head at the gray-furred female with a purple headdress.

“Lest.” She dipped her ears as he passed.

“Baron Silco.”

The femme was one the few things he missed about the Babette’s. He had considered hiring her for assistance in Jinx’s sexual instruction but his love made it very clear, very quickly that her distaste for sharing extended to all aspects of her life and to all things she considered her possessions. Which included Silco. A pity, he would have enjoyed seeing them frolic together.

Jinx dashed past a colorful beaded curtain and he followed. The studio was not large; Washim had no employees and only occasionally took on an apprentice. The front half was a gallery of her work and a sitting area. The walls were lined with framed examples of her designs and photographs of bodies bearing her style. The conversation/waiting was decorated in the Shuriman fashion; with low wicker stools and colorful pillows arrayed around a tea brazier and hookah. Fitting, given that the tattooist was an native from that desert region.

Silco’s eye was drawn to her work area while Jinx examined the art on the walls. Shelves of inks and small boxes surrounded a chair in a U-shape. The chair was elaborate, burnished brass, etched with lines of Vastayan glyphs. It was large, almost a throne or an altar. There were high-powered chem-lamps set-up all around it. The rest of the studio was dimly illuminated by electro-candles and the air was heavy with sandalwood incense; wafting out from burners in the corners of the room.

“Welcome, my most honored patron.” A rich, velvety voice intoned from a door at the back of the studio.

The artist emerged from the shadows and bowed at them. Jinx whistled when she saw her.

“Wow! Look at this kitty!”

Silco, with his better manners, didn’t show the same surprise as Jinx but he did feel it. Washim was a small feline Vastayan clad in a short black leather skirt and black mesh halter top. Her skimpy attire wasn’t the surprising part. Jinx matched her in that; wearing a purple bikini top, dirty brown leather elbow-gloves and pair of pink ‘booty shorts’ with a bandolier ammo belt with her latest creation. A heavy gauge blaster named Zapper hanging off it. No, Washim was a surprise because she was a Sphynx Vastayan. The same large ears, golden eyes, button nose and sharp teeth as most Felines but she was completely hairless aside from her long white whiskers. Her breed was rare, Silco had never seen one in person before.

But she had made use all that pale bare flesh.

Washim was her own canvas.

The Vastayan was covered in tattoos, from the tips of her ears to the end of the slender tail weaving behind her as she bowed to him. Rows and rows of Shuriman hieroglyphics and scenes from her native land. Up and down her limbs, across her cheeks and in spirals on her torso. Jinx chittered with interest and advanced on her. The girl walked around the tattooist, eyes flicking here and there across her frame. Jinx grabbed one of her arms and examined the patterns that trailed down her muscles from shoulder to claw-tip. She poked and pinched at the Vastayan as he chastised her.

“Jinx, do not…...” Washim held up a hand and smiled at him.

“It is quite alright my Baron. If the young lady is to submit to my needle, she must be assured of my skill. What better way than to examine how I inked my own flesh.”

Jinx crouched in front of the Vastayan, looking upon the circle of pictographs drawn on her stomach. A creation cycle from Shurima he believed. Jinx prodded at the miniature images of crocodile and hawk-headed gods and looked up at Washim with mild awe.

“You’re like the funny pages in the Iron & Glass.” That heartfelt comment provoked a hissing laugh from her.

“Why thank you, dear girl. Would you like to tell me what you would like me to do for you?” Jinx bite her lip, now looking somewhat embarrassed.

“It ain’t fancy like your doodles……”

Washim knelt with simple elegance in front of the crouched teenager. She took her hands in her own, holding them up between them and rubbing her scarred knuckles. Silco tensed, Jinx didn’t respond well to people other than him initiating physical contact with her. But to his surprise, she didn’t strike the artist. She even relaxed as Washim purred at her.

“Is what you have in mind meaningful? Is it important to you?” Jinx turned her head and looked at him. Silco frowned at her pensive expression but then she took a deep breath and looked back at Washim.

“Yes, it is. I want clouds….blue clouds.”

“I can do that.”

Jinx smiled.

****

‘ Clouds?’

Silco pondered Jinx’s choice of tattoos on a waiting area stool while Washim sat crossed-legged with a sketchpad in her lap while Jinx jumped and danced around her. The bluenette was yelling at the Vastayan.

“No! These ones are too fluffy! I want them to look different! Smoke, I want them to look like clouds of blue smoke! Do it again!”

A half-hour of this so far. Her tone was imperious, manic and insulting. But the tattooist took all of Jinx’s verbal abuse in stride, turned the pad to a fresh page and began to draw again. Silco took his lighter and cigar case out of his jacket pocket and received a fresh stogie. He clicked the lighter and rolled the cigar in the flame while chewing on her words.

‘ Clouds of blue smoke!’

What did that mean?

“STOP. This one. This….is it. These are my clouds.”

His musing was halted by Jinx. He looked over at his daughter. Jinx had the sketchpad in her hands and was staring at it glassy-eyed. Her head turned to a corner of the room that no one was in and pointed the sketchpad in that direction.

“Look. I told you I could have them and him. See? See?”

Washim looked up with questioning eyes, the Vastayan glanced at the empty corner and then back to Jinx. Silco stood up from the stool and walked over to Jinx, he saw she was gripping the sketchpad very hard. Careful not to touch her, he gently spoke.

“Show me.”

“Silly…...they’re just what I pictured.”

Jinx’s voice was heavy with unshed tears, he always knew when she was trying not to cry. Silco looked down at the sketchpad. It was a pale blue cloud alright. It seemed almost Ionian with its looping circles, and it was surrounding by smaller sketches of larger versions and miniature versions looked like droplets of water. But they were pointed up…...oh, like plumes of smoke. Jinx had said she had a less than elaborate request but Washim was a true artist. The female had found a minimalist beauty in that request. Silco was quite taken with it; if it hadn’t been going on Jinx’s body, he would have requested a print of this cloud.

“And you can do the small ones? The big ones? In the places I want?” Washim nodded at Jinx’s words.

“Please show me where you would like them.”

The girl wanted her clouds all along her right side, starting at the thigh. The tattoos would travel upwards, wrapping around her hip, buttock, torso and back. Then they would be along her right arm to the wrist. But they must be pointing up her arm, Jinx was very insistent on that. Lifting her arm above her head toward the ceiling. Washim took notes and nodded.

“Everything you wish shall be done. Baron Silco has reserved my services and shop until you are satisfied. I will make the transfer sheets for the clouds and mix the dyes tonight. Tomorrow, we begin. I advise at least three sessions or more depending on your pain tolerance. Does my benefactor approve?”

Jinx looked at him and grabbed his hand, squeezing hard. Silco squeezed back and nodded.

“We shall return tomorrow evening.”

****

“Blue clouds…...why?”

His auto hummed and rattled over the grimy stones of the Lanes as he asked the question. Jinx was curled against his side, her seat belt had never been used, playing with his tie while she stared out the window. She froze at his words.

“I just like them, that’s all.”

She was lying to him. His every instinct told him that. But why? That was the baffling bit. Jinx never hid anything from him, never. Even she failed at something, she came to him in either tears or rage. She shared her dreams, her fears, her fantasies and even the details of her bloody bowel movements with him. And Silco always helped her interpret her thoughts and actions in the correct way. Why was this different?

“Why do you like them? I’m interested.” His words and tone were gentle, her reaction was not.

Jinx pulled away, throwing his arm off her shoulders and scooting to the other end of the backseat. That surprised him, Silco frowned.

“I was merely asking.” Jinx narrowed her eyes and hissed at him.

“And what? My answer wasn’t good enough? I told ya! I ain’t going tell ya again. Stop acting like some whiny fucking Piltie about it!”

She twisted against the door and refused to look at him. The rest of the ride passed in silence and as soon as they reached the Drop, she ripped open the door and vanished into the alleys.

****

She had to be careful. This was the one thing she couldn’t break in a fury. The battered brass flare was usually in her deepest, darkest and most secret hiding place. But she was in a such a tizzy after the tattoo thing, she ran back to her cavern and crashed airship lair, pulled it out and held it to her chest.

She wasn’t lying to him.

Not really.

Jinx was sitting on her couch, staring at the flare that Vi had given her all those years ago.

”Light it up and I’ll come find you.”

Tears blurred her vision as pointy whispers filled her ears. Jinx turned to her asshole brother next to her and screamed at him.

“I’M NOT GOING TO LOSE SILLY TOO! SHUT THE FUCK UP MYLO OR I’LL TAKE AWAY YOUR MOUTH!”

She wasn’t lying.

He didn’t directly ask her.

She’s not betraying him.

It was a stupid and pointless Powder hope……it……it……was the last bit of before.

She might come back.

She’s never coming back.

Silco can never know. If he knew, he might go away too or force her to leave. Jinx moaned at the thought and bent over, clutching her stomach as it rolled like wave on the Pilt. The edges of the flare poked her. The girl knew that she should have tossed the fucking thing a long time ago. But she couldn’t, she just couldn’t.

And now she had been mean to Silly over it. Because she felt guilty about her secret. The old man had a good Tarot face but Jinx could read him like an engineering schematic. His feelings had been hurt. He given her a gift and she acted like a fucking brat, and not in the sexy way he liked.

She would make it right.

He would forgive her.

He always did.

Every time she jinxed it.

The fourteen-year-old just needed to look at the flare for a bit longer. That and the tattoos would make the bad feelings go away. Jinx was sure of it.

That was the whiole reason for getting the damn tattoos.

That would make them happy and be nicer to her.

And…….Vi might come back and she would see that Jinx never forgot about her. Then maybe she would love her again.

Silco never has to know.

It’s just a little thing. It can’t hurt them.

****

Jinx came to him in the dead of the night cycle. As he knew she would. Jinx was cruel by nature; quick to take offense and slow, as in never, to forgive. Silco was usually immune to her rages, usually. But he was singular in the fact that he was the only being she’d ever apologize to. Jinx crawled into his bed, naked, to do just that. Silco was not asleep and welcomed her with open arms. He did not chastise or humiliate her. The Chem-Baron feared neither blade or bullet. He didn’t fear the Pilties or his fellow Zaunites. Nor did he fear death or disease.

But he did fear Jinx leaving him.

Her lovemaking was filled with desperate, unspoken words as she sated herself on him and allowed him to slake his desires on her slender form.

‘ I’m sorry.’

‘ Please don’t hate me.’

‘Don’t leave me.’

Silco heard all those words from her very clearly even if she was using her mouth for other things. Afterwards, her apologizing done, Jinx melded her sweaty body against his and whispered against his neck in the darkness.

“They’re just clouds. They make me happy, that’s all.”

Jinx was still lying to him and he still didn’t know why. Silco opened his mouth to speak……

‘Let it alone. She’ll run if you push her on this.’

He heard his own inner voice now. Silco had learned a very hard and violent lesson about not listening to his instincts when he was younger. He had ignored this same voice when it screamed at him not to meet Vander at the river. But he had scoffed at that mental warning. Vander would never hurt him! Silco had been very, very wrong about that. The man who survived that swore he would never ignore his instincts again. That same instinct told him to hug Powder back when she tackled him and now it warned him to let her have this secret.

“I understand my dear. If they make you happy, then that’s all I need to hear. Go to sleep now.”

Silco kissed her forehead and Jinx relaxed; he drained her tension almost instantly with his words. She had been worried about his questions. The girl quickly fell asleep, Silco lingered longer in the waking world, a query kept trying to break the surface of his mind.

Was he missing something important?

…….No.

It was just one of her fixations; it would be equally foolish to turn shadows into monsters as Jinx did. He had real problems, there no reason to create new ones.

After all, how important could clouds be?

Chapter Text

By the time they returned to the studio; Jinx’s ebullient mood had been restored and his mild worry wiped away by a day of giggling, kisses and ‘thank you daddy!’ murmurs. The man felt good as they parted the beaded curtain and entered the shop. They had the place reserved but Silco still had his bodyguards at all the entrances to guarantee privacy. Jinx skipped ahead of him to the chair where Washim awaited them. The Vastayan was wearing surgical gloves and had a cart next to her and she gestured to Jinx.

“You’ll need to remove your top and bottoms. I have privacy items if you need…...oh!”

Jinx was already kicking off her boots. Then she ripped off her bikini top and wiggled out of her shots. The now naked teenager howled and raised her clenched fists over her head.

“TIME TO GET INKED BITCHES!!!”

Washim directed her to lay on the chair on her left side after lowering it into a vertical position. Silco took a stool from the waiting area and sat down next to Jinx’s head and shoulders. The girl was looking at the chair and playing with adjustment levers while the artist mixed the sterilizing agent. She examined the glyphs and traced them with a finger

“Hey Illustrated-Kitty! What do all the doodles mean?” Washim turned to her as she dipped a brush in the dark fluid.

“they are glyphs of protection and praise written in my tribe’s dialect of Shurimaese. Now, be still please.”

Jinx shivered but obeyed as the Vastayan painted her from shoulder to knee in the germ-killing fluid. The was a head pad that Jinx laid on, she stared at Silco but continued speaking to Washim.

“Protection from what?” The female finished her task and then began to wipe the excess fluid off with disposable towels.

“Bad spirits who want to fill my art with bad intent or curse my font of creativity. It’s an old tradition of my people.”

Jinx’s eyes got wide.

“Bad….spirits?"

“Yes, probably just a superstition in a world so bereft of the Arcane but who knows? It doesn’t hurt….and now I’m going to apply the transfer sheets. You must remain still or they’ll be smudged.”

Silco was astonished that Jinx nodded and obeyed. Staying absolutely still as the Vastayan took out sheets of clear wraps with her cloud outlines on them. Silco, somewhat fascinated, watched as she laid the sheets down on her neck, arm, side and hip. This was all so much cleaner than watching Vander get his old mining tattoos. Infection came closer to killing the Hound than any foe ever did, until himself that is.

Washim waited for a minute and then peeled them off of her. The dark blue exterior and interior outlines were clear and crisp. Washim turned to the cart, opened a small wooden box on the top and took out what seemed like an overly large gold and silver pen. She walked around the chair and knelt in next to the stool he was sitting on. The hairless Vastayan held up the object for Jinx to look at.

“This is my needle-gun. It’s an automatic design with a chem-tech battery. I had it made by a local artisan; aside from the vibrant tattooing culture, technological advances also drew me to the Undercity.”

Jinx looked at the needle-gun with avid interest.

“Oh-oh-oh! Funky! What voltage is the battery? How big is the needle? Does metal purity factor into…...”

Washim listened to Jinx jabber and then explained the working of her main instrument. Silco was impressed with her; perhaps she had asked around about Jinx or just an instinctual grasp on what she needed to be comfortable. Either way, his estimation of Washim rose and he decided if Jinx liked her tattoos, she would receive supplemental reward to her already substantial fee.

“I’m going to start now. Are you ready?” Jinx nodded.

“If it hurts too much, we can take breaks.” Silco answered for his daughter.

“Don’t worry, she can take it. Can’t you Jinx?”

She looked at him, puffed out her lower lip and bumped her hip at the Vastayan.

“No breaks.”

Washim side-eyed Silco but nodded and went back around the chair. She took a wheeled stool from behind the cart and put it at Jinx’s hip. She loaded an ink cartridge in the gun and sat down. Silco leaned forward as she put the needle against the medium-sized cloud near her knee.

(ZZZZZZZZZ)

The air was filled with the harsh metallic buzz of the needle-gun as she began. Silco’s eye flicked back to Jinx’s face as the needle began to rapidly puncture her skin, depositing the blue ink into her dermis. The girl’s eyes widened and her mouth made an ‘O’ shape as Washim moved the needle across her skin. Jinx’s face twitched and her big blue eyes moved back and forth. Her jaw tightened and her small pink tongue darted over her lips.

Jinx’s visage was…….resplendent.

Her expression was the same as when he spanked her or pressed his hands into the meat of her hips. He knew that look well. Jinx was in a new type of pain and she was discovering the joy of it.

“Silly….this…...this hurts in the good way. Like when you…...” Silco shushed her, such bluntness about their relationship was not for other people’s ears.

“Don’t speak Jinx. Focus on the pain, this new feeling. Learn from it. Master it like you master all other things.”

She fell silent but she did reach out to him with her left hand. Curling her fingers in the air, Silco took her hand and her grip told him a wordless story over the next three hours as Washim efficiently did the line work. The dark blue ink clouds formed on her flesh. Jinx’s grip remained steady as the needle made its way up her thigh, clenching as the small sharp thing reached the meat of her hip. Her first sharp intake of breath came as Washim around to her ass. Silco looked hungrily at the droplets of dark red blood on her ivory skin before the Vastayan wiped them away. His tongue traced the backs of his teeth and he felt parched. What a waste; Jinx’s blood was the finest wine.

A long, stuttering breath announced the formation of the back clouds where the muscle was thinner, there was no fat and the needle met bone. Jinx shuddered a little and grumbled under her breath. Washim finished the back and then did the small one on her neck. Washim leaned forward and Jinx looked her eyes on him as the needle buzzed under her ear. She mouthed words to him silently.

“Thank you. Love you. Want you.”

Washim turned the needle another way and Jinx’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and her mouth hung open. That reaction lasted until the Vastayan unfolded another clever contraption from the chair. A rod with a clasp on the end. She lifted Jinx’s right arm and affixed the clasp to her wrist and adjusted it until her arm was held tight and still. From this angle, Jinx was able to observe Washim’s work. She watched, entranced, as the needle worked across her arm.

“It’s hot but not like when you burn yourself on metal or something. It’s like a match dancing on my skin that won’t go out.”

Washim was working on her shoulder and nodded.

“It will feel that way for a day as it heals but a chemist friend has concocted the most wonderful Shimmer healing gel for my clients. You’ll leave the wraps on for twelve hours and then apply the gel. This will start an accelerated healing process and have the work completely healed and ready to for the next stage in a day. Before, a tattoo of this size and variance would have taken over two months to complete correctly. But now….”

“…...I can have my clouds in less than a week????” Jinx’s infectious grin made the Vastayan smile herself, her fangs gleaming in the harsh chem-lights.

“Yes, but you must remember to apply the gel everywhere.” Jinx giggled and tilted her head at Silco.

“I think I’ll have all the hands I need for that!” He uttered a warning cough as Washim looked him and then quickly looked away.

“I’ve saved the part that will hurt worst for last. The breast cloud. I’ll be quick about it.” Jinx snorted at her.

“It ain’t so bad! Besides, I’ve been punched in the titty by Sevika! Do your worst kitty-cat!”

Washim placed the needle-gun against Jinx’s ribcage and began. The girl didn’t react differently until the sharp point touched the soft fatty tissue of her breast. Jinx stiffen liked a board and gasped.

“Oh.Oh.”

Jinx’s left leg bent at the knee and her grip on his hand became painful. She began to breath heavily and her stomach muscles rolled as the needle went up and down. Washim’s button nose wrinkled and she sniffed. Silco saw her eyes dart to Jinx’s crotch and his own cigar-damaged sense of smell caught up a moment later.

Musk. Hot and wet. Jinx was not in duress from having her breast worked on, quite the opposite. He should have realized this would be a likely result but having no experience with a tattooist’s needle, he didn’t make the connection.

“Oh…...the good hurt.” Jinx’s voice was dreamy and happy.

Yes…...the good hurt. One the most wonderful things that he and his daughter shared was a mutual understanding and appreciation of pain. Pain was grounding for them both. For Silco, it told him he was alive despite his injuries. For Jinx, pain told her she was real despite her mental agonies. And both quickly realized that pain was the wine that paired best with their meat. He had taught an eager and intuitive student the ways of the lash, knife, teeth and hands. Those glorious little hands and sharp fangs learned to inflict such delicious pain on his flesh.

And Jinx loved to receive as much as she loved to dish it out. How many afternoons had they spent in his chair with her on his lap and his hand under her shirt or halter? Pinching and rolling her nipples under his fingertips while she squirmed and hissed? These clouds would permanent but Silco had given her many temporary tattoos in the form of bruises and handprints. And just like now, when he loved her in that special way, she would have that glassy look in her eyes and she would be mouthing one word. Over and over.

More.

Silco realized he was breathing hard himself, they stared at each other and he squeezed her hand until a quiet whimper floated out of her mouth.

“We have finished.”

Washim’s voice pulled him away from Jinx’s imploring eyes. The artist turned off the needle-gun and wheeled around on her stool. After ejecting the spent battery and ink cartridge, she deposited her instrument in it’s case and took a roll of clear wrapping paper out of a sealed bag. She tore off sheets and covered Jinx’s red, raised and tender skin with them.

“It will look smeared but it isn’t. Leave these on for twelve hours, the wrap has anti-inflammatory aloes on it from Ixtal.”

Jinx nodded and then looked at Silco.

“My legs are shaky.”

Silco rose from his stool, looked around the studio and located her boots. The Chem-Baron gathered up her scattered items of clothes. Then Jinx swung her legs over the chair’s side and Silco knelt in front of her. He lifted each foot into her shorts and then pulled them up to her knees. The middle-aged man squared his shoulders and Jinx leaned forward, placing her hands on them. She stood and he pulled the shorts up. Her boots were next, Silco slipped her feet in and tied them off. Then he stood, she held her arms out and Silco gently out the bikini top back on so not disturb the wrapping on her right side. Then he reached up, cupped her chin and Jinx stood on her boot-tips to receive a kiss on her forehead.

Washim watched the most feared and hated person in the Undercity treat the dangerous and violent girl who was quickly becoming as feared and hated as he like spun glass in silence. Sensing that disturbing or making them aware of her during this…...ritual would be a very bad idea. She waited until Silco turned to her before presenting him with a tube of gel with a formal bow.

“Apply this in twelve hours and return that evening for the next session. All will be ready, my Baron.”

Silco accepted the tube with a small nod. The Vastayan’s formality was so refreshing.

“Ssssiiiilllllyyy, let’s ggggooooooo…...”

Jinx’s whine, use of a sobriquet and tugging at his arm reminded him that such behavior was rare in Zaun. She dragged him back to auto and was clawing at him the moment they were inside. Her hands slapped at his vest and she keened at him.

“I need you…...I’m full of gunpowder……I’m so full Silly…….I need to go off, right fucking now.”

“I know darling, lean back. I’ll fix it.”

The auto pulled away from the curb as Silco pressed a button on the ceiling. Jinx leaned back against the red leather seat and spread her legs. There was large dark wet spot on the crotch of her pink shorts. Silco, careful to avoid the wrappings on her side, slipped his hand down the front of her garment. He found her cunt soaking wet and boiling hot. Jinx started screaming even before the first finger went the entire way in.

She came three times before they reached the Drop.

****

“Oh fuck! The itching feels so good! I can feel my skin knitting back together. New tingles! More goo! More goo!”

Silco had the tube in his left hand, he was staring at the bedroom ceiling and sweating like a whump stuck in a sump-pipe. The middle-aged man was fighting for his life while the naked teenager impaled on his cock rolled her hips back at forth. The bed was covered in bloody wrapping paper. For the first time since he’d met her, Jinx had woken up earlier than him. The day-cycle hadn’t even begun but Jinx had been in a state of euphoria since returning home last night. Manic and inventive, she took his alarm clock and jury-rigged it to one of her monkeys. Jinx set it for exactly twelve hours and then demanded he make her breakfast for dinner.

“Brinner! That’s what’s I’m going to call it! I’m such a fucking genius!”

That’s how he ended up making waffles at 9 p.m. while she danced around the Drop’s kitchen, banging pots together and singing the ‘New Tattoo Song’.

“🎵Tattoos! Tattoos! Waffles and tattoos! Brinner is best and then Silly’s gonna fuck me blue!🎵”

Manic indeed. And then, after a decent night’s sleep, clanging cymbals awoke them precisely twelve hours after they left Washim’s studio. Even before Silco had fully realized he was awake, Jinx was on top of him with his Shimmer injector in her hand. She smacked her hand on his forehead and hooted happily.

“Good morning my Silly-Old-Silly! Let’s get your dumb thing out of the way so we can focus on me!”

Then she placed the injector against his dead eye and the needle shot out and injected him with Shimmer. Agony; a thousand small stabbing knives from head to toe, not unexpected but her reaction was. The usual ‘Jinx-Glomp’ where she hugged and kissed him until the seizure passed was replaced by her hand on his forehead, holding him flat on the bed as he flopped liked an electrocuted fish. Jinx dropped the injector and examined the wrapped tattoos on her arm.

“They’re gonna be soooo pretty. I’m so fucking stoked! Hey are you done yet, ya big baby?”

Silco (who just avoided swallowing his own tongue) nodded weakly. Unwrapping the tattoos was his job and Jinx had him start with her arm. The Chem-Baron slowly peeled the clear sheets away with his fingertips. They came off with little wet ripping sounds, covered in dried blood. Jinx frowned as she looked at her arm.

“It’s all puffy and weird.” Silco began plucking at the wraps on her thigh.

“I believe the gel she gave us will take of that. Now sit still.”

The bed around them was soon covered with bloody plastic and Silco, now fully awake, was starting to enjoy himself as well. She was whining in a pleasant way when they were peeled off and he saved her breast wrapping for last. He watched intently as her nipple hardened as he pulled the material away. Then he reached for the tube of gel on his nightstand. Silco uncapped it and squeezed a dollop on his other palm.

“Put out your arm.” Jinx leaned over his head and he tried not to stare at her tits.

Silco smeared the gel on her arm, using both hands to cup her thin arm and gently rubbed it into her skin.

“Ooooo…...tingly!!!”

On his hands as well. It was a cool and pleasant buzzing feeling that turned into a numbing sensation. Jinx started purring like a cat as he applied it to her torso. The numbing transformed into warm feeling and Silco watched the scabs fall off the fresh ink and the redness leave her skin. Jinx started grinding on his crotch and his cock twitched.

“Good itchies! Good itchies! Do you like it too Silly? Oh! Oh! Mr. Rat is awake too! I feel him sniffin’!”

“Yes….I do like it; I always like pampering you. Let me show you.”

Silco gripped her waist and raised her up in the air, bending his legs and putting her over his cock. Jinx giggled and reached down, gripping his shaft and holding it steady as he lowered her back down. They groaned simultaneously as the head split her lips and she sank down. Silco released her hips and flopped back down on his pillow as the warmth from the Shimmer and the heat from her cunt merged. Jinx moaned, feeling it too.

“Shimmer and fucking! Why didn’t we do this before???”

Because he knew how dangerous and tempting this combination could be. Silco was well aware of all of Shimmer’s applications. The street form was a general narcotic, the combat-stim version had promise for the new Chem-Tanks Renni was developing. And the aphrodisiac variant? It was extremely popular in the brothels and among individual users. The connecting feature among all varieties was that each was highly addictive. Even his boutique neurological serum. Silco was wary of addiction and had absolutely forbidden Jinx from ever using Shimmer beyond the most diluted medical version for the many injuries she inflicted on herself and those that came naturally from being one of his soldiers.

Still….several sessions of this superlative gel wouldn’t hurt. It felt so good and Silco sighed with contentment as Jinx’s cunt convulsed around his cock. He might not last long he realized as she moved her hips and babbled. The bluenette however had different plans and reached behind and under her butt to cup his balls.

“JINX” Silco’s head snapped up and he snarled at her, half in irritation and half in appreciation as the girl squeezed his sack hard. Jinx pinched and fondled the tender skin between her fingers until he moaned and curled his toes. She shook her head and grinned at him.

“No shooting your goo until you’re done applying my goo!”

He hurried to obey.

****

The next session lasted longer than the first as Washim filled in the first section of her clouds. The interior of each was paler blue, almost gray. That choice seemed odd to Silco. Clouds were white and the sky was blue, at least past the pale green atmospheric pollution of Zaun. But Jinx demanded a very specific shade of blue.

The pain and sensation were not surprising to her this time. She sat up and watched while biting her lips as Washim pressed the moving needle against her skin. The pale blue grew across her thigh, Jinx groaning as she made lines and moved in circles. The girl also peppered the tattooist with questions as she worked.

“Who made the ink-pistol?”

“Where do you get your inks and how do you mix them for the right colors?”

“What’s the maintenance on this chair like?”

“Can you use different gauge needles in the gun?”

She wanted to know everything about the process of tattooing. Washim obliged; sensing the analytical engineering mind beneath the verbal and physical chaos no doubt. She walked Jinx through the process of preparing inks, tool maintenance and how tattooing wasn’t terribly different from her drawing and graffiti.

“Just remember your canvas is very different if you ever do any tattooing yourself.”

“Whatta mean, ‘my canvas’?” The hairless Vastayan smiled at the teenager as she finished with the large hip cloud and gently wiped the blood off Jinx’s newly colorful flesh.

“Unlike with paper, stone or wood, an artist must be gentle when their canvas is another’s flesh. Because even as we cause pain, we create beauty and all beauty in world springs from a gentle heart.”

“A gentle heart?” Jinx looked over her shoulder at the Vastayan with skepticism writ large on her face.

“Yes, a gentle heart. Everyone has one I believe, even when they must armor it against a harsh world. Do you believe you have gentle heart, Jinx?”

The bluenette considered the artist’s question, forehead furrowed and fingertips tapping against the green chair cushions.

Then Jinx smiled.

A smile that would have caused anyone who knew her, perhaps even Sevika, to back up a step and look around for the trap she was about to spring. But Washim didn’t really know Jinx; all she saw was a large smile, dimpled cheeks and the dancing eyes of a lovely young girl.

“Heh, sure do! I’m sugar and spice and everything nice. Ain’t I Silly?” He smirked from his stool.

“Well, I certainly think so.”

Fifteen minutes later when they left, a girl with a gentle heart decided she couldn’t even wait to get home this time. Jinx dragged Silco into an alleyway beside the studio and bent over a garbage can, tugging her shorts down while demanding he put some ‘ extra sugar and spice’ into her.

Very gentle indeed.

It was a very good week for Jinx. One for the record books. Her mood improved significantly and she was nicer to everyone. The young bartender downstairs went seven days between paint bombs being jammed down his pants, a streak that would never again be equaled. Her sleep decreased in her joyful mania and her creative output skyrocketed. She spent hours at her workbench and on his desk scribbling new weapon designs. The one she was most proud of was an incredibly detailed diagram of a multi-barreled automatic blaster.

“Her name is Pow-Pow and she’s gonna be one of my best friends!”

All of that and her endless Shimmer gel induced desire pleased the Chem-Baron but truly made Silco happy was a simpler thing. Jinx got a good week. A week of laughter, smiles and ideas. There were no crying jags, no unexpected fires or deaths, no self-harm. For a short period, Jinx was as close to normal and happy as she would ever get. The girl even started whispering to him at night. The voices were quieter, the world less fuzzy. She was excited; she had hope that maybe, just maybe, the artwork on her skin would keep the dead out of her head for good.

Hope. The worst lie life had to offer. Silco believed in some things but hope? Not a concept he put much stock in. One part of him wanted to warn her about how false hope could be and not to set her expectations too high. But he couldn’t be cold and practical when looking at her toothy smile. It simply wasn’t in him, that one cruelty. He knew that the good weather would break and her storms would return. He would weather them as he always had and he suspected he always would.

****

The final session changed their relationship and added a new level to how enmeshed they were with each other.

Jinx’s tattoos, her clouds, were complete on her hip, side, arm and back. They looked wonderful, Silco may not have understood the color choice but he now appreciated it. Her hair, eyes, tattoos. Jinx was a walking palette of the color blue. His dreams were all blue-tinted now. There was only small section to complete. A cloud on her neck, her collarbone and her breast.

She was laying down on her back, topless with her arms up and crossed under her head. Washim said this wouldn’t take long. So Silco ignored the stool, shrugged off his coat and stood over the tattooist’s chair smoking while the Vastayan bent over Jinx. His eye never blinked as the needle moved over her neck.

Jinx was really the most beautiful girl in the Undercity.

The line of her muscles, the pallor of her skin against the shiny new blue. The movement of her throat as the needle penetrated her flesh. The way she licked her lips, there was dry speck of Jericho’s hot sauce at the corner of her mouth. If Washim wasn’t here, he’d have bent over and kissed it off. If the Vastayan hadn’t been there, he would have done a lot more than kiss her.

He would have fucked her right on this chair.

Silco felt himself stir in his pants. He had been thinking of fucking Jinx in that tattoo chair since he first saw the thing. She fit so well on it. But he wouldn’t be getting the chance to do that. It wasn’t like he could just command her to give him the chair, he couldn’t fuck his daughter in front of some stranger. That was line he couldn’t cross. No. No, he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t like he…….

……...was the most powerful Chem-Baron in the Undercity……..

……who could do whatever he wanted. Wasn’t that one of the things he hated about Vander? All that power and he lived like a bum. Silco had that power now and he intended to give his people better lives. Why not take a little bit for himself? After so many years of pain and struggle? Didn’t he deserve it?

Didn’t he deserve the girl that he loved? That he saved and then raised to be spear point of their struggle? Jinx deserved everything……...didn’t he deserve her?

Silco decided he did as Washim started on filling in the cloud that partially covered her breast. Jinx groaned a little as the needle bit. Yes, her little teacups were so sensitive. The girl loved how he touched them. Silco always started with light feather touches, dancing across her skin. He had patience, Jinx didn’t and would rushing him along at this point. He would always keep teasing her. Playing with the nipple, pinching and twisting until her demands turned into begging. Then he would cup her tit and squeeze until she screamed.

He was hard in his pants now, his erection straining against the tight fabric.

Fuck it, he decided and spoke.

“Does it feel good?” Jinx looked him.

“Huh?”

“Tell me how good it feels Jinx."

Her eyes widened. He wasn’t using his public voice, the steady and threatening stream of gravel poured out of his throat. Silco was using his bedroom voice, the gravel became liquid and he breathed silk out his mouth as he wrapped her up in a single sentence. He mixed in a command and something he’d never give anyone else, pleading, under the order. He’d never beg anyone for anything but he would beg Jinx for what he wanted from her. Jinx’s eyes closed to slits and she breathed in as the needle buzzed.

Then she gave him what he asked for.

“Daddy, it feels so good. It’s hot and it burns. It reaches down past my skin and tickles me. The needle is so quick and it feels like one long poke……”

Her voice was different too. Her raspy vocal bite was discordant with a breathy little girl whisper. She dropped the public ‘I’m a brat!’ persona. Their faces changed together as well. Silco always kept a solid, impassive grimace or a smug ‘I already won’ cat’s smile when dealing with others. Not now; his face went slack with desire. His mouth hung open, revealing yellow, crooked and jagged teeth. His posture changed, he hunched over and breathed in sharply as her looked at her. As he looked at Jinx like……

…….a starving man looked at a full plate.

And Jinx knew how to be appetizing. Her lower lip puffed out, she moved her head back, exposing her neck. Her left leg bent, bringing a knee up. Her other foot turned inward and normally she point her chest at him but Washim was bent over her torso (Doing her damnest to ignore what was going on around her.) so she compensated with her words and eyes. Jinx batted her eyes, the lids moving like frames on a flicker-show and the blue orbs somehow got even bigger.

“……and it feels like how you touch me daddy. It’s like you’re touching me right now.”

Silco had to physically stop himself from grabbing Washim and flinging her away so he could devour his girl. The stogie in his left hand snapped in two as his fingers convulsed around it. The burning end fell to the ground unnoticed. The Baron was slipping away. The mature man who valued measurement and forbearance was getting dimmer by the second. Soon all that would be left would be Silco the miner, Silco the ganger, Silco the hungry Fissures orphan. Someone who understood that life rarely gave you anything good. And if the hoary old bitch did toss you a bone, someone would immediately try to take it away from you. So you had to either devour it on the spot or clutch to your chest and kill anyone who reached for it.

They wouldn’t be making it far at all tonight.

He watched with agony in the minutes that followed. Minutes that felt like hours as he watched what was his be changed and decorated. As that skin became blue and a novel realization occurred to him. Someone was touching Jinx and he wasn’t enraged by that fact. Once, a Shimmer distributor complemented her braids when he dropped off his tribute at Silco’s office. Jinx had been coloring on the settee and the man had told her she had beautiful hair and then picked up one of her braids and rubbed it between his ringed fingers. Right in front of Silco. Jinx didn’t react herself, she just looked at Silco. The man never left the office.

Silco cut off all his fingers and made him eat them before he allowed Jinx to shoot him in the head. She still had the man’s rings, hanging on a string somewhere in her new cavern.

Washim had a rare privilege; he hoped she appreciated it.

“And there we are……finished. Jinx, is there anything else…….” Washim’s voice trailed off as she looked up and saw Silco rubbing himself over his pants less than a foot from her face. Jinx wasn’t paying attention to her either. The bluenette had reached out and was tugging at Silco’s leg.

“Wipe and wrap her, then get the fuck out of here.”

His tone broached no arguing and the Vastayan hurriedly wiped the blood off and applied small wrap patches to her neck, collar and tit. The artist scurried to a back room, already forgotten. Silco walked around the chair as Jinx watched him.

“Are you happy?” He reached down and began undoing her spiked black leather belt. Jinx was wearing a ratty pair of jean shorts, he unzipped them and tucked his fingers in the waistband, and Jinx trilled at him.

“I’m so fucking happy.”

Jinx lifted her butt and he pulled the shorts down her legs. He pulled one of her booted feet through the shorts and left them to dangle on her other ankle. Silco stood at the foot of the chair and began to unbutton his pants flap. Jinx spread her legs and showed him her blue-furred cunt under the harsh standing lights. Her pubic hair was dark and damp; her thighs were smeared with her leaking juices. The sting of the needle really ‘turned on the fuck faucet’ as she so elegantly put it. Her lips were open and engorged, the girl’s clit was peeping coyly out of its hood.

“Who made you happy?” The organ he pulled out of his pants wasn’t pretty like Jinx’s cunt but it was big and it was hers.

Silco’s cock was long, thick and uncircumcised. It dipped down slightly at the head. Jinx liked that too, said it hit all the right places. He wrapped his hand around the shaft and began to stroke himself. Jinx bit her lip and stared.

“You make me happy.”

He straddled the chair and Jinx lifted her legs. Silco shuffled forward and she rested them on his shoulders while she gripped the chair arms, the cushions squeaking under her grip.

“Who gives you everything you want?” He leaned forward, pushing her legs back to her chest as he got into position. The head of his cock touched her cunt lips and he started rubbing it up and down the slick flesh.

“Ugh. You do. Anything I want.” He lifted up his cock and slapped it against her clit, making her whine.
“Who protects you? Keeps you safe?”

“Oh fuck, do that again! You do! You! Only you!” He rolled his hips forward and hissed as the head and first inch of his cock pushed inside her.

“Who….who….who…...”

He was huffing, struggling. Not to hold himself up, to get the words out. Why was it still so hard to say it? He felt it, with every drop of Shimmer-corrupted blood and with every beat of his black heart. Jinx saved him, of course. When did she not save him? She grabbed his tie and pulled his head down to hers. Jinx rubbed her nose across his scars and whispered against his skin.

“Everything. Shark is everything to Bomb and Bomb is everything to Shark. Everything. No more talking, no more talking.”

She loved him. Someone loved him, so course he obeyed. Jinx yowled like cat as he sank the other seven inches of his cock into her vise-like cunt. There was always that moment during the first stroke when she’s just too small, too tight and he doesn’t think he’ll even get halfway in. But then his marvelous girl flexes and her body accepts him like a hand sliding into a tight leather glove. Silco’s eye rolled back as Jinx’s heat fully enveloped him. She groaned with pleasure, her feet rotating in circles on his shoulders as he began to pump.

“Oooo, it feels even better with the tattoos!”

Silco grunted in response as he thrust into her. Jinx licked and bit his nose as he moved on top of her. The chair was really quite sturdy, it barely shook at all while they fucked on it. Jinx held on to the armrests and moaned. Silco hammered away at her, sweat turning the red collar of his shirt a deeper burgundy. Silco slid out to the head with each stroke and then slammed back into her. The crotch of his pants ripped as he squatted over the teenager girl, snarling and fucking.

She felt so fucking good. It was impossible to hold on, luckily Jinx didn’t want to waste any time either. The bluenette snaked a hand between them and she began to rub her clit. She flicked the slimy shaft of his cock as it emerged with her fingertips.

“I’m almost there. Faster, Silly! Go fast and full me the fuck up!”

Now the chair squeaked a little as Silco pounded into her. She wanted it, she would get it. Jinx’s head bounced against the headrest as he struggled to hold on for a few more seconds. But all such efforts were undone by her coming undone around his cock. Jinx shrieked in his face and her cunt convulsed, her walls shivering and constricting and the Chem-Baron snarled as he lost the fight against his own orgasm.

His cock swelled and spat cum deep inside her. Thank Janna for the monthly shot from Singed, he hated condoms. Jinx yipped as he filled her, pushing deeper and grinding against her. She flopped back on the chair and he collapsed on top of her. Jinx slapped his back.

“Watch the new ink old man!” Silco grunted and raised up, half-slipping out of her. His cum leaked out of her cunt and onto the cushions below her butt.

“My apologies darling. Let’s return to the Drop.”

“Wait!”

Jinx surged up, wrapped a hand around his neck and whispered into his ear. Silco’s working eye narrowed as he listened. The man nodded and climbed off her. He put his softening cock back in his pants. Silco wiped his hands on his pants and walked over to the wall hook holding his overcoat. He slipped the coat on and smoothed back his hair. He looked back at Jinx.

“You sure?”

The girl had scooped out some of their combined spend and was holding it up to one of chem-lights above the chair, examining the fluid on her fingers. Jinx nodded and began humming to herself. Silco turned and walked into the storeroom which Washim had retreated to.

****

The artist was leaning back against a wall and smoking a Shimmer joint when he came in. She stubbed it in an ashtray on the windowsill above her head. She began to speak, tail twitching nervously behind her.

“Baron Silco, I promise that all my clients have full confidentiality……” He held a hand as he closed the distance between them.

“I have no doubt about that Madam Washim. Your professionalism matches your skill with the needle. Jinx and I are very happy with your work. Alas, your success is your undoing.”

The tattoos on her face crinkled as she frowned in confusion and her ears lowered.

“Undoing? What do you…….Aaaaa…….”

Her reaction to him stabbing her was more a surprised sigh than a scream. The holdout blade hidden in his sleeve was in his hand as he held up the other to distract her. He was still fast. Silco had her against the wall and the stiletto between her ribs before she finished her query. Washim scrabbled at his arm, her claws coming out but then Silco twisted the knife and she gasped. Vastayan hearts were no tougher than human ones. Her arms fell limp and her eyes unfocused. No more than thirty seconds now, there would be very little pain. It was not Silco’s intent to make her suffer, nor had taking her life at first.

But Jinx had asked for it.

And he always gave her what she wanted.

Silco cradled the Vastayan as she slid down the wall, kneeling with her and holding her by the back of the neck, rubbing it in sympathy. A line of blood trickled down her chin as she mouthed ‘why?’ at him. Silco shrugged, she deserved the truth and would take it to the other side of the River with her.

“Jinx is troubled by things only she sees and hears. Despite my best efforts, these phantoms persist. Your tattooing has sent her into a ‘up’ period. She believes that your work will protect her permanently, I don’t believe that it will but she does. Jinx has been worried that the next tattoo you create, if it is grander and more beautiful than hers, will cause her demons will return. She wishes to prevent that if possible. So you are indeed a victim of your success.”

Ah, already gone, he hoped the explanation soothed her passing. He removed the knife with one swift jerk, wiped it clean on her top and closed her eyes with his index and middle fingers. A small sack of golden hexes was left in her lap. He owed her for her services after all.

****

“Did you close her eyes?”

Jinx was dressing as he walked back in from the storeroom. He nodded as she carefully put her bikini top back on so not to disturb the wrapping on her breast.

“Yes, I did.” Jinx turned to the tool cart next to the chair.

“Good. No reason to be a meanie about it. Alright, coat off, open your shirt and sit on the edge of the chair. Which I’m keeping by the way, send the boys to pick it and the rest of her stuff later.”

What was she up to now? He watched as Jinx replaced the chem-battery on the needle-gun and refilled the ink cartridge. Washim had been through in her explanations and Jinx rarely had to hear such technical details twice. Silco shrugged off his coat, unclipped his vest, took off his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Jinx snapped on a pair of the surgical gloves and unscrewed the lid of sanitary liquid. She turned to him, opened his shirt wider by another button and mused as she applied the surprisingly cold substance over his heart.

“One more thing has been bugging me. I don’t have any of your firsts. You’re so much older. You had all of them before mama shat me out.”

“I do apologize for being born nearly thirty years before you.” His dry comment made her stick her tongue out at him.

“As you should! But seriously….what first does Jinx get? Not first love, Vander was that. First fuck? Vander again or some girl who was way less pretty than me. But you? You’re my first (and only) love and no one else is ever gonna touch me like you do. That ain’t fair! Makes me mad and sad. Makes the boys snigger at our love. But then I remembered…...you ain’t inked! No needle (the Shimmer injector don’t count) has ever touched your skin. Then I had the most romantic idea ever in the history of this shitbox city.”

She wiped off his chest and picked up the needle gun, showing it to him. No joking or mirth in her eyes now. They were deadly serious.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you as much mine as I am yours?”

“Yes.”

His answers were as serious as her questions. He looked right at her as she scanned him for a lie.

“You remember right? Back in the day, when I first did this? Shark. I do get a first with you Silly. I get touch you in a way no one else ever has or ever will. Hold still, I ain’t never this before!”

The sound of buzzing filled the studio again as Jinx leaned over and pressed the dead Vastayan’s instrument to his flesh and began to tattoo a pale blue shark over his heart. Silco’s eye widened as he first the kiss of the needle for the first time.

Oh…...Oh…….Oh.

****

That memory warmed him as Jinx applied the shaving cream to his public hair. His daughter looked up from between his legs with a cocky smile as she unfolded the straight razor.

“Don’t worry Silly-Old-Silly. This sharkie is gonna be a lot better than the first one!”

Of that, he had no doubt.

Jinx had grown so much as an artist.

He was so proud of her.

Chapter Text

Another oddly familiar yet brand-new sensation thanks to her. Silco knew he should be used to Jinx bringing new experiences into his life by now. Or turning the mundane into the fantastic; this particular act of shaving was the perfect example of her innate magic. She marked or changed everything about him and his possessions. He would never look at his shaving razor the same way again. He had owned the straight razor with the mother-of-pearl-handle for years. The act of shaving was always a delicate one for him. The left side of his face, due to the scars, didn’t allow for easy grooming. The ridged flesh spouted hair at irregular intervals and places and thus required delicate blade work.

Powder used to sit on the toilet or stand at his side with two fingers hooked through one of his belt loops and watch him shave in the morning. Those big blue eyes watched the blade move intently. Despite her requests and pouting when denied, Silco would never let her handle the razor. He knew she would hate herself if she accidentally cut him. The man would mollify the girl by allowing her to apply the shaving cream to his face and assuring her (as he tried keep the white foam below eyebrow level) that she would be one day be good enough with a blade to ‘shave a sump-fly’s ass.’

He had been correct about that.

Jinx’s hands were always steady when they were alone. The bluenette could be twitchy and unreliable in many situations; but never here, never with him. Her hands never wavered or shook with a needle gun in them. The Bluenette’s face was calm, the tics absent from her cheeks and the manic gleam gone from her eyes. Silco only saw such peace within her when she was at the engineering bench on the other side of the turbine, creating some new technological wonder. Or bent over graphing paper on his desk, imagining some new horror to unleash on the world. The connecting factor was himself of course. He supplied the tech, the parts and now her canvas. Only Silco could give her peace and she knew that. The teenager hummed a nonsense tune as she applied the shaving cream, giggling as one of his inner thighs twitched near her shoulder.

“Oooooo. I didn’t think the big bad Eye would be scared of a little girl with a little ol’razor! You big baby.” Silco sniffed and rolled his eye at her.

“It’s cold, you azure imp.”

“Yeah-yeah-yeah. Chilly or not, no moving around. Don’t want to cut ya…...on accident.”

It was chilly, the gel felt colder on his sparse brown and gray pubic hair than it did on his face. Silco repressed another shiver, if he didn’t, he knew Jinx’s teasing would last all night. She finished smearing the cream in a half-circle above his cock and licked her lips while she wiped her hands off with a rag.

“Mr. Rat ain’t cold!”

True. His large and heavy cock was half-erect and twitching under the cream. The anticipation was better than almost anything. Few things could top it but Jinx knew them all, including the best one. The straight razor appeared in her hand but didn’t remain still. She unfolded it and the clean steel glittered as Jinx flicked and flipped it in her grasp. It flowed over and under knuckles as she acted like it was a firelight-knife. The point of the square razor-sharp blade came to rest over the femoral artery on his right leg. She looked him in the eye as she pressed the blade against him. Not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to prove a rather delicious point.

She could kill him, right now, if she were so inclined.

One didn’t become a powerful man in a dangerous city by letting yourself be vulnerable…...ever. You expected attacks and betrayal; at any time, at any place. You kept your guard up no matter what, even if you sleeping, eating, shitting or fucking. Normally Silco was in full agreement with that philosophy; he had learned that lesson in a rather brutal fashion. But…...he always broke his rules for Jinx. She taught him what she needed and revealed to him what he needed.

Silco’s muscles relaxed even as he imagined her wrist flicking (just as he taught her) and slicing the artery. The blood flow would be immediate, heavy and lethal. From the moment it was cut, he would have less than a minute to get a belt or a rope secured around his upper thigh before he bled to death. But she wouldn’t let him off the chair. Undoubtedly, she would leap on him after wounding him unto death. Then she would keep attacking with the razor or just hold him down. It wouldn’t be difficult for her; his strength would quickly leave his body along with his blood. He was utterly helpless if she decided to really hurt him.

But Jinx would never hurt him, she isn’t capable of it.

No, she needed something more than his blood, his bones and flesh. She needed his trust. Along with his love and devotion. Jinx needed to know he didn’t think she would ‘jinx’ him.

To know that he wasn’t afraid of her and what better way to do that than to allow her to alter his very body at her whim? It was also a gift she gave to him. A way to relax, to stop being the Eye for a moment in time. To feel without fear, to experience to that pain he so needed. There was a side of himself that he only shared with her. A desire that he could not ever risk sharing with anyone; with no lover or brothel worker. Even before it became a matter of a Baron’s prestige; it was simply too much…...faith to put into another person. Until Jinx that is, a perfect partner. The partner that fate gave him to mold….no…...to cultivate. Jinx had grown so far beyond what he expected. A good gardener, like a good father, didn’t stymie the wild growth of a beautiful flower.

He just encouraged it in the proper direction.

That flower bloomed into a Zaunite rose with sharp thorns. One that Silco had been waiting for all his life. Someone he could finally, finally submit to. It was an aching desire; so wonderfully and paradoxically fulfilled by the teenager between his legs. He was her caretaker and her slave, her leader and her follower, he was whatever Jinx needed him to be. He wished he could explain it to her but she wasn’t the only one with a little secret. Jinx was unwilling to explain the reasoning behind her clouds and Silco was unwilling to force the word submit past his lips.

But for both, actions spoke louder than words.

Cold and pain but no blood. Jinx lightly dragged the blade up the meat of his thigh. Leaving a long red line on his pale skin and swimming sharks. The kiss of the razor was quick and sure, her first sweep gathering up a line of hair. Jinx hummed, brought the razor to her eye level and looked at the hair on the blade, sniffing it before dunking the razor in the bowl of water on the floor by her knees.

“Curlier than your head-fur. Just like mine. Why are pubes like that ya think?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.” Jinx sniggered and mimicked him as she shaved another patch off.

“I haven’t the foggiest. You sound like such a fucking Piltie half the time. It’s embarrassing!”

Silco was nonplussed at her continuous and casual disrespect; so damn rude and so damn nice to hear. Despite her words, there was an undercurrent of affection and familiarity to them. He needed that as well. Until her presence was established in his life, he been unaware of much he missed having a friend. Someone he could joke with and be the butt of jokes. She was so much like her mother that way, always teasing him, never afraid of him.

But very unlike her mother as well.

He didn’t have much pubic hair, the next three swipes removed most of it and then she used a thumb to held his skin taunt and carefully scraped away the edges of what was left above his cock. Then she dipped her rag in the water bowl and wiped off the remains of the cream and loose hair. Silco shivered as she leaned forward and blew air on his freshly shorn skin and then rubbed her thumb across the newly bare flesh. Jinx cocked her head and licked her lips at his cock, which had softened a bit under the shaving cream.

“Smooth! Like a baby’s ass! Least I think so, who goes around smacking babies on the ass? Dumb saying. Hey! Why is Mr. Rat sneaking back into his hole? Did you finally get cold little buddy? Let’s warm you back up!”

Jinx moved her head like a snake as she snapped the razor closed. Her dark pink lips opened and she sucked in his soft member. Silco groaned in appreciation as she went to work. His daughter's mouth was a warm, wet and slightly pointy cavern of its own. Jinx slurped him down until the tip of her nose poked where his pubic hair used to be. She inhaled and Silco responded quickly the forceful suction she applied.

Janna, he loved the sensation of growing in her mouth. The blood rushing through him as his shaft grew and lengthened; her agile tongue lashing against the underside. Silco watched her head began to bob up and down, jaw stretching as he became fully erect. Jinx withdrew to the tip, inhaled deeply through her nostrils and pushed her head back down.

“Aaaaaaa.”

Silco’s moan low and carried through the darkness of the cavern as Jinx deep-throated him. His cock slid down her throat with practiced ease. He was big and she was small but the girl had been practicing since she was fourteen and as the saying goes, practice makes perfect. She had learned much at his knee and from her vent-based observations at Babette’s. More than one brothel had finished with a client only have Jinx poke her head through a window or a vent and demand explanation and instruction in whatever manner of sexual congress she had just watched. His hands gripped the armrests tightly as she gulped, swallowed and made humming noises deep in her throat.

He very badly wanted to grab her head and start fucking her face but that was against the rules of the Chair. Different Chairs had different rules. In his office, in his chair, Jinx obeyed him. But here, in her cavern and in her chair? Silco did as she wanted. And his daughter’s last command was not to move. Besides, he knew this wouldn’t last long. The sucking was just a tease, an appetizer for the main course. His cock slid out her mouth, covered in saliva and hard as Fissure ore. The organ, too large and heavy to stand on its own, flopped down behind his legs as she stood up, holding the razor and other shaving materials.

“Mr. Rat is all toasty now, time for the show to get started. I don’t have sneeze! That’s different. Usually, during a full dunk on the daddy-dong, my nose gets all tickly in your short-and-curlies. But not this time! Neat, huh?”

Jinx didn’t wait for a response as she spun away from the splayed man on the chair. Silco took the opportunity to examine himself. Hmm, that was odd. It was the first time since his long-departed youth that he looked down at his dick and balls and didn’t see that thatch of hair. That would take some getting used to. The bluenette returned from the cart with a tray holding; the needle gun, several spare ink cartridges and the sanitizing gear. She plopped back down between his legs, whistling and snapping on a fresh pair of surgical gloves. Jinx would close her own wounds with a filthy staple gun (something he'd repeatedly asked her not to do) but she risked no infection when working on him.

She opened the jar of sanitizer, the lid had an applicator attached to it. She swiped across his bare skin with it, creating a dark brown square. Jinx loaded the gun and then wiped the congealed goo off with a disposable towel. She lifted the needle gun in her right hand but paused and looked up at him, chewing on her lower lip.

“You….understand, right? Why I do this? What the big point of it all is?” Silco cocked his head and examined her face. The abacus of his mind clacking as it reviewed the hopeful expression on her face.

She had only ever wanted to be loved, trusted and understood. To be valued, needed and treasured. Jinx had been loved before, he had to admit that. But there was a fierce and burning pride in Silco’s chest; it was beautiful and ugly, like all his feelings for this girl. But it true and so were the words he said next.

“Of course, my beautiful little thing. You made me as I made you. Isn’t that the most obvious thing in the world?”

Jinx’s eyes widened in joy as he hit the nail on the head. She leaned to the side and kissed his leg before turning the gun on.

No but him had ever understood this girl.

“It’s only us Silco, it will only ever be us.” He nodded at her serious tone.

“I would have it no other way.”

The discussion ceased as she began.

“Zzzzzzzzz”

Buzzing filled the air and his pulse quickened at the sound. Silco took a deep breath as the silver tip of the needle gun touched his flesh. The older man grunted as the first little shock of pain hit. A familiar one, the rapid touch of the needle; so quick that that each puncture merged into the next into one beautiful burning line. The pain that followed that was new; this flesh was a different type of canvas. If there was any softness on Silco’s frame; it was here at his center. And that softness responded differently than the hard and skinny panels that made up the rest of his body.

The flesh moved and absorbed the needle. On his back and limbs, it was like the needle was chipping through stone. Carving an image onto him but this was different. His flesh moved and pulsed and she used the gun not like miner’s pick or lab laser, but like a painter’s brush.

Jinx didn’t use outline sheets, she preferred her instincts and all his work was done freehand. But she never hesitated and rarely grimaced at a mistake she made. Her artistic desires flowed easily; it was so much easier to show him how she felt with ink and blood rather than with words. Words could be spoken incorrectly, misinterpreted but blood and ink? There was no mistaking her feelings for him in those mediums.

Today’s addition was simple yet poignant; this was not just lust…...it was ownership. Jinx loved being his. His daughter, his lover, his creation but a new truth was undeniable. She now had her own cavern, her own design projects; was going out on missions for him. Sometimes he didn’t see her for days at a time as she disappeared into the gloom of the Undercity on her own adventures. Silco knew what was happening and it made him maudlin at times.

His daughter was growing up.

But Jinx was not pulling away either. She had become even more possessive of him and covetous of his attention when she wanted it. The reaction to Margot being the latest example. She had also overhead some ganger punk say something disrespectful about him in a Lanes arcade the other day and slit his throat on the spot. Then she went back to her Whack-a-Whump game with the boy’s blood still on her hands. His protective little princess. Jinx jealousy guarded what she considered hers. Which included, above all things, him.

“Uuuugghhhhh.”

Silco felt no need to be silent and stoic. His stillness was all she wanted at the moment. Jinx was drawing a bomb on him; one of her most common scribbles. Seen on burned-out buildings throughout the two cities in a multitude of colors. She always drew one on the corpses she made. Letting those who came after that someone had gotten jinxed. Well, no one on Runeterra had been jinxed more than Silco but in a way that no other person would ever be lucky enough to share.

The bomb was about the size of her palm. Round with a single fuse on top of the casing. The outline took about five minutes and she stopped; dabbed the droplets of blood away with a paper towel and switched cartridges on the gun. She started filling the black at the fuse-cap. The needle turning his pale skin the color of a lightless Fissure mine shaft. Jinx moved in straight lines, filling in the bulk of the center before turning her gun in her hand to make loops around the edges.

“This works on a lot of levels, ya know. Because I blow up meatbags for you and cuz I make your cock explode every night! Ha!” Silco grunted and licked his lips.

“Yes….yes….my perfect girl. Wonderful observation.” Jinx whistled at his slow and distracted tone.

“Don’t be like that. I want it like you always do it. Tell me how it feels or I’ll stop. Use your big nerd words like I them.”

Nerd words, coming from the girl who used so much engineering terminology and jargon, he sometimes thought she was speaking Ionian. But this was one of the few places she liked to hear him lecture and she would stop if he didn’t obey. Jinx was merciless and spoiled. Janna, he loved her so much. Silco took a deep breath and stopped letting the pain and pleasure drown him. He focused, took the feelings into his hand, closed his fist and focused on them.

“It’s so easy to lay back and let the feeling wash over you. To simply drown in it. But if one does that, they miss the true meaning of the pain and the art. Even in the depths of sensation; you still must keep your wits about you. Would the artist like to hear more?”

His tone was light and scholarly, she been hearing it for years. Either when he was explaining some fact of life to her or when she watched him explain to group of laborers or soldier what fucking idiots they all were. Despite her many (many) complaints about his ‘boring ass old man yapping’, Silco knew she took great comfort in his voice. His words seemed sync up with her needle.

“More.”

He smirked at her hungry and imperious tone, he was to be the yapper tonight.

“Have you ever considered the act of tattooing is also an act of penetration? Your sharp little needle, driving into my skin….filling me with ink and taking my blood. Holding me down, inflicting yourself on me. Listening to my murmurs of pain and ignoring them. Guiding the needle in and telling me I can take it. Jinx, does that remind you of anything?”

Silco twitched a muscle and illustrated his point. Jinx was crouched over his crotch, at just the right angle. His cock was dangling under her face, kept mostly erect by the tattooing. The twitch caused it to jump slightly and hit her in the chin. Jinx squeaked and her eyes widened. The buzzing stopped as she gave him a lustful stare.

“Sneaky-sneaky old man. Distracting me with your ugly old cock. Yeah…yeah….you stick me with your fucking daddy dong…..penetrate me with it….you fill me up…….cram me so fucking full……”

Jinx paused and panted. She was blowing hot gusts of breath right on his cock. That increased the twitching of his member and the teenager squeezed the gun so hard that the he heard the metal groan. Then the bluenette smirked at him.

“……I can’t get all distracted by you Silly! I gotta finish this! On second thought, we can’t keep yapping like this. Hmmm…...I left your Daddy-Gag upstairs so I guess, I better find something for my talk-hole!”

With that, Jinx grabbed his cock with her free hand, lifted it up and pointed it at her mouth. She popped the head and first inch or so inside and the released his cock. Jinx leaned forward, but her arms around his crotch and went back to her work. Silco gasped as she started to suck and tattoo him at the same time. She had never done something like before in the many long hours he had spent in this chair.

It was……different than her usual oral ministrations. Jinx was aggressive by nature, her mannerisms in bed were no different. And she had always approached oral sex with the same zest she had at the lunch counter at Jericho’s. The girl took big bites, as fast she could and was always hungry for more. Jinx had surprised him when the thirteen-year-old girl had first knelt between his legs in his office. After seeing her eyes widen at the size of the cock she had just pulled out of his pants; Silco hadn’t expected much. Small kisses, timid licks and experimental touches. But the girl had just grinned, split on the floor and sneered at him as opened her mouth as wide as she could.

“I’ve had bigger burritos, watch this Silly!”

It had been more like a physical assault than blowjob but she had natural enthusiasm and determination. Almost dislocating her jaw before he pulled her, protesting, away. That was how Jinx sucked dick, like she was about to rip it out by the root with her teeth or by demanding he fuck her skull hard enough to give her a concussion. But this? This……slowness was new. Jinx was focused on the tattoo being rapidly completed rather than the organ in her mouth. She was giving it slow and steady sucks, trapping the head with her sharp little teeth and licking the oozing hole at the tip with languid links as she finished filling in the bomb. It was a soft pleasure to go along with the keen agony of the needle. It was like whiskey and cigars, his head fell back against the headrest as the ecstasy rolled through his body like an ore cart on a clear track.

Jinx finished with the black body coloring and kept his cock in her mouth as she switched cartridges. She straightened up and narrowed her eyes as she began to ink-in the white fuse section. Jinx started chewing on and humming around his cock. Silco’s toes curled as her teeth idly kneaded his flesh. He looked down at her face as she hummed ‘Get Jinxed’ around his member.

“🎵Wan-uf-joo-ugh-me-comm-akhnd-plaaaa🎵”

Ah, a voice like one of Janna’s angels and then Silco realized what was familiar about this. How many times had he walked into the Drop and seen her at the bar; doodling on a cocktail napkin with her special cup in front of her while chewing on the straw in it? Just like she was now? Her forehead was even creasing in the same way as she concentrated on making white lines. It was such an innocent everyday look, but somehow a thousand times more profane than the sultriest bedroom eyes to him. Jinx had his cock in her mouth like it was the most natural and ordinary thing in the world.

Because it was. His chest heaved.

Because she had given herself completely to him. His ass muscles clenched.

It was natural because she had been made for him, by him.

Jinx belonged to him. His balls tightened.

Oh fuck, now he was going to cum.

Jinx’s eyebrow shot up and she closed her teeth around the head of his cock. Oh, no…she was going to…...

“AAAAAFFFuccckkkk!!!”

Silco’s head and shoulders shot off the chair as his daughter bit down on his cock, hard. He gripped the armrests and gritted his teeth as pain shoved his orgasm back inside him. Jinx stopped the gun and moved her head, looking up at him with annoyance and she grunted as she dug her incisors in just behind the glans. Jinx raised her free hand and wagged her index finger before pointing down at his almost completed tattoo. Silco nodded back at her, the message was very clear.

You’re not allowed to cum until this is done.

It like she shoved one of her braids into his ear and listened to his thoughts…...and reminded him who he belonged to. Cheeky little blue monkey.

The Chem-Baron leaned back as she started suck again and change to the final ink cartridge, an orange-yellow mixture for the fuse. Because of course Jinx would never draw a bomb that wasn’t lit. The needle made a star-shaped spark at the end of the fuse. Silco breathed in deep as Jinx drove the needle in one last time and licked the underside of his cock rapidly. She smiled around him and the gun clicked off. Jinx put down the tattooist instrument and wiped off the blood. The blue-haired girl popped his cock out of her mouth and crooned at him.

“🎵It’s….done!!🎵” Silco answered her with low moan and guttural plea.

“Please….it feels so…...” Jinx looked down at his throbbing, red and dripping cock. She snorted and licked her lips, taking the gloves off her hands.

“You have been a good daddy for me……and being an artistic genius sure is thirsty work.”

She moved the tray aside and grabbed his cock again. Jinx lifted the organ upright and Silco shuddered, this would not take long. His fucking dick hurt. She had been edging him since he arrived and while he enjoyed denying satisfaction, there was a limit and the old man had reached it. Jinx lightly wrapped her hand around the head. The flesh was red and tender and he panted as she squeezed. Jinx pursed her lips and blew cool air on the head. She moved her hand down the shaft, pulling the skin away and then she pressed her pink and jagged thumbnail into the underside of his glans. Then she planted one kiss right on the tip. That was all it took.

With a snarl, he exploded in her grasp but Jinx expected this immediate reaction. Her mouth was already open. A thick chord of pearly (with pink-purple spots) off-white cum splattered across her extended tongue. His hips lifted off the chair as she rapidly fisted his cock, keeping it aimed at her mouth. Two more ropes landed on her tongue, she curled it to keep the creamy puddle on it. The fourth shot hit her chin and his final efforts dribbled down the head and onto her knuckles.

Silco was cored out as she pulled his life-force out of his cock. He collapsed against the chair, shaking and panting great gusts of air out of his mouth. Black spots danced in his eye. Jinx tapped his knee and he looked down her. There was a hug glob of his spend on her tongue. Jinx waggled it back and forth for second before closing her mouth and swallowing with big gulp. She smacked her lips and dropped his wet softening cock. The bluenette licked his cum off her knuckles and pointed at her work.

“Hits the spot every time! Silly look! Before I wrap it up. Do….do ya like it?”

Silco shakily got up on his elbows and looked down at his crotch and…...smiled. It was a simple, almost cartoonish thing. Above his cock, for Janna’s sake. It was childish and selfish but also honest and true if you spoke her language. He gestured to her.

“Come over here please.”

Jinx knew what that meant; she stood, placed her gloved hands on his hips, and leaned over to his face. Silco poked his nose against hers, provoking a giggle. Then he lifted his chin and kissed her forehead before whispering.

“It’s wonderful. Of course I remember and understand.” Jinx blushed.

“Really? For true Silly?” He turned his head and kissed each cheek.

“ A bomb. For the explosive little girl who blew away all the bad in my life and who makes me very happy and proud every day. I think about those words often. And now, I’m the bomb. Which means…….”

Jinx kissed his scarred cheek and sobbed out in joy in remembrance. Her voicing cracked and he heard Powder speaking right next to her.

“……...that you blow away all the bad in my life that you can and you make me really fucking happy every day because you’re real and not a liar like they always try to say. I remember too; I never forgot. Everyone’s, except me, scared shitless of you and you have sharp teeth. Which you use to eat the things that might hurt me and to protect me.”

They kissed; softer and slower than usual. Jinx was almost demure with the way she brushed her lips against his. Silco was gentle as well. They would never stand before an altar in a Janna shrine. They would never say the binding words that his parents and her parents said. That was wasn’t for monsters like them. That was for the people they were trying to free from Piltover’s oppression. Silco knew that there would only be softness in small moments like this for him and Jinx. They didn’t need or want holy words and approval.

They made their own words, together. They fashioned their own vows without the approval of others.

She broke the kiss, nipping at his nose and murmuring.

“You know what happens next, right?” Silco nodded.

“I assume you want it in the same place?” Jinx nodded excitedly.

“Wrap your latest masterpiece and we’ll started.”

****

He scratched his fingers through her pubic hair. Thick, stiff and fragrant. His nose and cock twitched in a Pavlovian response to her scent. He shall miss these curls.

“Silly, what ya waiting for?” He patted the blue bush.

“Just saying goodbye to an old friend.”

“Jeez, you fogies are sentimental.”

“It does happen at my age, now hold still.”

They had exchanged places after Jinx wrapped his tattoo. As the girl settled on the chair, Silco grabbed a few more items from her tool cart and refreshed the water in the shaving bowl. Cropping Jinx’s pubes would require more effort than his own sparse hair. First, he required the stool for this. Almost fifty, he did not intend to spend the next hour with his bony knees on the bare metal of the turbine blade. He had wheeled the cart closer and placed the tray on the top. Silco plucked a round-tipped pair of grooming scissors off it. Jinx had no interest in such things, as the large ‘V’ of cerulean hair at her crotch attested to, these were brand new. He wondered where she had stolen them from. Jinx, thanks to him, had enough money to pay for anything she desired but the girl preferred to steal.

He began to trim her hair. Jinx had her feet up on the leg-rests and knees bent as he worked. Looking down at his progress, a braid in each hand. She was swinging them in circles and singing in atonal happiness.

“🎵Shave and a haircut, two cogs!🎵” Silco smirked as the scissors snipped and snipped.

“As if you ever darkened a barber’s door.”

After trimming away majority of her bush, he soaked a towel in the bowl and scrubbed her down, wiping away the loose hair and softening the rest. Then applied a dollop of shaving cream to his hand and then spread it on her pubis mons and the insides of her pelvic area. Jinx shivered and whined.

“Cold!” Silco snorted as he unfolded the razor.

“Now who is the big baby?” a flung braid whacked against the side of his head.

“Shaddup and get scraping!”

The razor was quite sharp, how quickly her hair came off. Silco had often shaved her legs and armpits but never done this before. A bare cunt was never more interesting to him than a furry one. The strokes were shorter and she was vibrating; when he shaved her legs or pits, she was always still and bored. He had to be careful not to cut her. Jinx moaned when he moved to the pelvic area on the sides. Scraping away the hair around her entrance. She was wet and red already. He looked at the thin pale white scars on her inner thighs. There was a temptation with a blade in his hand but it was not the time for such things. He leaned forward on the stool, very carefully shaving the last away. Then he took the wet towel and wiped her off. Jinx leaned forward and whistled.

“My kitty lost its cap! I might need to start wearing undies to keep her from freezing!”

Jinx’s shorn cunt was indeed a sight to behold. Her lips redder and more prominent, her clit appeared bigger to but it also emphasized her bare white skin and smallness. It seemed….vulnerable and younger almost. He nibbled on the inside of his cheek as his chem-engine woke back up.

Later for that.

The sanitary wipe-down came next as he donned a new pair of surgical gloves. He loaded the first cartridge while he wanted the thirty seconds required before wiping the fluid off. Three colors only, outline black, gray for the skin and white for the teeth. A realization hit him as he wiped down for the final time. He had no outlines either and unlike her, he never done this before.

Silco was suddenly very afraid of failing her.

“I’m not as good an artist as you.” Jinx had been staring at her shaved pussy and looked up at his admission.

“Durr! I know that.” Silco looked at her sheepishly.

“I’m just worried that you might not like it.” Honesty was better, he didn’t want her to be unhappy.

“Hahahahahah!!!” Jinx threw back her head and howled with laughter before looking at him like he was a late-stage shim-head huffing the fumes from the factory exhaust pipes.

“It ain’t about technical skill. That’s for engineering not art, dumb old man. It’s like……oh, I know! Jericho! J-man technically makes better waffles than you cuz he’s a cook who makes that slop all day, every day. But I like your waffles better because you make them for me and fill them with all your love and shit. And because you call them ‘Jinxcakes’ and Jericho won’t change the name of the extra-large salmon burrito with extra hot sauce to the ‘Jinxrito’ despite the fact that I eat one practically every day.”

Silco was warmed and comforted by her madcap logic. He really couldn’t argue with that. Silco picked up the needle gun and showed it to her.

“Shall we?” Jinx nodded and leaned back in the chair.

He moved the stool closer and hunched over her. Silco placed the gun against her mons, angled it in the direction he wanted it to go and clicked the button on the side.

A day for new experiences indeed.

Silco was born writer, the hours in the day that he didn’t have a writing utensil in his hand could be counted easier than ones where he did. But this was starkly different. The gun vibrated his hand, moved slightly on its own and he had to learn the movement of it. The black line appeared under the needle like magic, he watched the fin take shape with awe. It almost seemed like he wasn’t the one doing it. He made the first curve of the head before stopping to wipe the blood off.

“Oooooo……Silly.” Jinx moaned and shook as he placed the tip back on her skin. Silco looked up at her face. The girl’s mouth was open, her cheeks were red and her blue eyes unfocused.

“Is everything ok?” She nodded and whispered.

“Keep going, keep fucking going. It’s better. Like I said, it’s better when you do it. Oh Silly, keep going.”

He needed no further encouragement than that. Silco fashioned the triangular tail under the head, attempting to mimic the twisting design she used for one on his chest and the ones on his hips. Next was the fin on the side and then a hard line for the mouth. Jinx yipped as he made a series of v-shapes under that line for teeth he’d fill in later with the white. Lastly, he made a back circle for the visible eye. The outline was done, he did the best he could. Silco stopped, ejected the ink cartridge and then wiped her down for blood and himself for sweat. There was far more of the latter on his forehead than former on her tattoo.

It had been years since any task made him this nervous.

Gray for the skin was next. Shorter lines, almost scribbling. He had watched her do this for years; imitation was the sincerest form of flattery. He saw Jinx’s hand over his own as he weaved the gun back and forth, creating the aquatic beast that was him but also her. Jinx moaned and cried out as he filled in the outline. Underneath his hand, her cunt pulsed and leaked. Her fluids soaking the cushion under her ass. He had to go over several light spots again and again. She slapped her hands against the armrests and whined.

“Daddy hurry! Hurry up!”

“Patience my perfect girl. Patience. We’re almost done.”

Silco was breathing hard as he loaded the final cartridge. White now, for the serrated teeth, far whiter than his own crooked yellow fangs. The buzzing resumed as he pressed the needle into her skin. Up and down, up and down as he marked her. Almost…...almost…….Jinx keened as he cried out.

“Done!”

He dropped the gun on the cart and grabbed a fresh towel. He wiped the blood and drops of his own sweat off her. Jinx sat up and slapped his shoulder.

“Let me look! Let me look!”

He stepped back, moving the stool away and grabbed one of the work lights. Angling it closer so she could get a proper look. Jinx looked down at her crotch; sitting right above her cunt, on raised and red flesh, was a shark. It was nowhere near as good as the work that decorated his body. It was jagged, pointy in places he hadn’t intended and the snout wasn’t near pointy enough. Was the fin on the back set too low? Where the teeth even? It was far from perfect but the most perfect girl in the world still looked up at him with awe in her eyes.

“Silly…...it’s beautiful.”

The Chem-Baron scanned her face; he could always tell when Jinx was lying. But this wasn’t like with her clouds. She was telling the truth; unvarnished joy sat on her face. She loved the tattoo. His shoulders straightened and the corners of his mouth ticked up in a satisfied and shark-like smile.

“Only half as beautiful as the canvas.” Jinx lurched forward and grabbed his wrists, shouting.

“INSIDE! Get inside me! NOW!!!”

“Wrap! We need to cover it first!” Silco shouted back as he struggled against her surprising strength yet again.

****

“Mean daddy! Making me wait!”

“Shush, thirty seconds won’t kill you.”

He smoothed the sheet of wrapping paper of her skin, Jinx hissed as he did. Not in pain but rather impatience.

“It might kill you if you don’t fucking…...AAAWWWWOOOOUUCCH!!”

Her complaint turned to a scream as he finished with the protective covering and dipped his hand down. Silco took her clit between his index finger and thumb, squeezing as he admonished her.

“I believe I’ve had quite enough of you barking orders at me tonight.” Silco moved his head to the side as the hooked fingers of her right hand slashed the air it previously occupied. He clucked his tongue at her.

“And a mean daddy is what you shall get.”

He stood, kicking the stool away with his heel. Then he stepped around the open legs of the chair and bent over to the adjustment controls on the side. He closed the leg-rests and lowered the back and headrest to vertical. Cranking the legs down almost flat. Ignoring Jinx’s increasingly profane protests; he grabbed her by the waist with both hands. Silco flipped the squawking girl like one of her waffles so she that was on her hands and knees on the chair. The contraption was heavy; it would support her weight for what he had planned.

“Who gives you everything you want?” Jinx turned her head to look at him and Silco slapped her tattoo ass cheek with a whistling strike from the shoulder. His palm left a scarlet mark as he snarled at her.

“Face down and ass up. Now I asked you a question little girl. Who gives you everything you want?”

Jinx responded immediately to his tone and assumed the position. Planting her face on the headrest and sticking her ass high in the air.

“You do! Oh Silly, you do!” She pitched her voice, making it higher and innocent even as she rotated her buttocks at him.

Silco licked his lips and touched her cunt with his right hand. Gods, she was wet. His middle fingers slipped right in, he rotated his hand palm up and started to pump slowly into her. He took his cock in his other hand.

“That’s right, I do. The most perfect and beautiful girl in the city deserves no less. Even if she is also rude, spoiled and ungrateful. Now, tell me the truth, have you had enough for today?”

“No!!!” Jinx clenched her pelvic muscles and moved her hips. Trying to fuck his hand. Silco chuckled and started to rub her asshole with his thumb as she did.

“I expect no less from the ‘Loose Cannon’. Even though from my perspective, there is very little that’s ‘loose’ about you. Are you ready to give me everything?”

“YES, JANNA-DAMNIT. GET TO IT.” Silco’s eye gleamed with ill-intent as he lifted his cock to her entrance and removed his fingers.

“Do remember you said that in a few minutes.”

The girthy cock slid past her lips and Jinx grunted into the headrest as he sheathed himself in her. Loose his narrow ass. He had never been in a tighter quim; even Babette’s and she was barely bigger than his boots. He stood still, enjoying the white-hot heat of her for a moment before he started to pump. It was like every time was the first time with Jinx. It made him feel ten years younger and he wondered how he had ever lived without her. His hips moved steadily as he gripped her ass cheeks. This had been on his mind all day.

“You weren’t the only one displeased to have Margot at my office today. She is….fuck…...so boring with her complaints, so expected with her pedestrian attempts at seduction….so tight…. and so fucking ugly to me.”

He kneaded the flesh of her ass, careful to avoid the wrapped part of his own crotch from hitting her. Keeping his back straight, which allowed him an excellent view of his shaft driving in and out of the shaking girl. Much like the needle had been in and out of both of them today.

“She is so….ugh…haggard to me. With her facial modifications and whorish makeup. As if anything could disguise those….fuck, your cunt is tight…...wrinkles. She’s nothing compared to you, nothing.”

Jinx screeched as her cunt convulsed around his cock and gripped the sides of the chair. Her braids flapping as he watched the sweat appear on her back.

“I could ask her to do anything and she would. She thinks that the use of her worn-out holes would gain her favor. But when I look at her, or any woman frankly, you want I see instead? You. My little nymph. Only you Jinx, only you.”

He grunted with his teeth clenched as he fucked her. It was almost time for the switch, he hissed at the girl.

“Your face, your body, your cunt. I sat there listening to her prattle on and tried desperately not let my mind wonder to you, to this chair, this moment that I knew was coming. Your natural impatience had infected me.”

His voice was wild with an unspoken truth. Jinx was more important to him than Zaun.

A dark truth, one he didn’t like facing. Sevika was right; she occupied more and more of his mind as the years went by. He would have to be more careful about that in the days to come. More measured and more disciplined.

But not today.

Today, he was going to fuck his freshly-tattooed daughter up the ass.

Silco stepped back and pulled out of her cunt, the cool air of the cavern assaulted his wet cock. He stepped over to the cart and took a small vial of Shimmer-infused oil from next to the sanitary liquid. Jinx looked at him as he popped the cork out of it and pulled the liquid on his cock. She bit her lip as he smeared all along the shaft.

“Ohhhhh…...the old switcheroo. Daddy…...you didn’t even ask first.” Silco walked back behind her and poured another large amount on his fingertips. Jinx was quivering as he rubbed the lotion on her asshole.

“You said everything. So that’s what I’m taking.”

He was the most selfish of men when it came to Jinx. Zaun could have everything else but she had something that not even his lifelong quest could claim.

His love.

And as he taught her; true love sometimes hurt.

Jinx screamed as the head of his cock pushed against the ring of her asshole. Silco gripped the base of his greased-up shaft and rolled his hips.

“FFFFFFUUUCCCCKKKKKKYYYYYOOOOUUUU!!!!!!” Jinx’s agonized shriek accompanied the head of his cock and echoed through the cavern as he pushed that wrinkled brown hole open. The cave bats shrieked back from the shadowed stalagmites in seeming sympathy.

Silco ignored her dramatics; Jinx always acted like this when he took her this way. But he was well aware of how tough she was and how much she could take. Now that the head was in, he moved his hands to her ass cheeks. Silco had large hands and he could palm each cheek easily. He gripped and spread them, stretching her hole wider and then he began to sink in, inch by inch. Jinx cursed and pounded on the headrest with her forehead. His was soft as he encouraged her.

“Easy does it, breathe out and don’t tense up. You can take it……just like I taught you. Good girl, good girl.”

His eye rolled back as he passed the halfway point and his cock would go no further. Jinx gasped and her ass squeezed him so hard that his legs almost gave way. Her back hunched and the girl shook like a leave as her body accepted his intrusion. Silco stroked her haunch and murmured more gentle words to her. Jinx snorted like the half-broke filly she was and then…...she lowered her back, let a deep breath out and put her unmarked forearm across her mouth. Jinx bit down on herself and grunted at him.

As always, he marveled at how strong she was and felt a burst of pride in his part in making her so. Silco began to pump his hips. His cock slid out her passage and he poured the last of the vials contents on it before pushing it back in. The added lubrication gave him another inch of delicious pleasure, further than he’d ever been able to get before. Her muscles flexed, letting him in but also pushing against his cock.

Jinx moaned against her arm as he rocked back and forth, fighting back the instinct to go as fast and deep as he could. That could actually hurt her. Silco knew that from several youthful experiences in Stillwater Hold, on both the giving and receiving end. So he held on to her and moved like a rock drill set at low speed. What he was getting was more than enough. The view of her pale back; spine rigid; muscles twitching under the clouds on her right side. The stench of their mixed arousal and of course; the touch of her flesh against his. No part of her was unclaimed by him and thanks to his previous orgasm, he would last long enough to assist in hers.

Silco slid his hand down her hip and reached around her; carefully to avoid the fresh tattoo. Janna gave him long and agile fingers, so he used them. The tips pressed against her clit and he started to rub it in time to his strokes. Jinx bit down on her forearm hard enough to draw blood. Her ass tried to crush his cock and they both growled and snapped like alley cats screwing on the Drop’s loading dock. Jinx lifted her head and screamed out through bloody teeth as his cock swelled inside her.

“AH FUCK! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!!”

Boom indeed, she started writhing like a fish on the hook and Silco felt a splash of liquid against his inner thigh as she squirted. That was the tipping point for the old man as he felt the last of his resolve disappear like smoke in the wind. All the energy in his body flared brightly, from his toes to his ears and then was ripped away. Sucked out through his cock like a message container in the pneumatic tube system. The muscles on his neck stood out as he orgasmed deep inside her. Struggling to breath, Silco pulled his still-shooting cock out her grasping ass. A second rope of cum splattered across the small of her back as he reared back and then plunged himself into her spurting cunt.

“YOU OLD FUCK!!!!” Jinx cried out with joy as he finished cumming inside her. Silco roared like a Demacian lion and arched his back, buried to the hilt in her. Their fluid mixed together and even the heavy chair shook under their combined thrashing.

He gasped for air and held Jinx up by the waist so she didn’t collapse on her wrapping. Her feet were kicking as she sobbed with pleasure and completion. He laid his other hand on her back, scratching and rubbing her sweat-soaked skin, watching her gaping asshole open and close like a little flower. Silco took a deep breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth. What a magnificent mixture of smells and tastes. The air was thick with smell of musk, blood and tears. He tasted it too, his tongue tingled like the end of a battery was touching it.

Jinx was weeping softly; she turned her head and looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were puffy and her tears had made her kohl run, leaving black trails down her cheeks. The teenager’s lips and chin were covered in blood. She looked she had been in a street brawl but she smiled at him.

“It’s so quiet, I don’t hear them at all. Thank you for that.” He nodded as he lifted her off the chair, his limp cock slipping out her as he did.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

****

The cavern did not have a lavatory.

When Jinx needed to relieve herself, she did it in a bucket and when said bucket was full, she chucked it into the abyss. And she never considered building a bathroom. Bathing and Jinx were never on the best of terms. Often, she had to dragged, kicking and screaming into his richly-appointed washroom; only ever coming willingly on hair days. When Silco blocked out an entire afternoon and evening to shampoo, cleanse, brush and braid her hair. But as always, he discovered a solution.

A Brothel Bath.

Silco had placed boxes of bathing wipes in his office, bedroom and her cavern. The expensive hypoallergenic kind with no odor from Piltover. Jinx would reluctantly allow him to clean her with them, as he was doing now. Silco had already wiped down and dressed himself. Gingerly buttoning his pants over his new tattoo. Now he was sitting on the stool again with the naked girl standing in front of him, grumbling as he scrubbed the blood, sweat and cum off her.

“I want to go to Jericho’s when you’re done.”

“A fine idea, I’m feeling peckish myself.”

“I’ll have to sit on your jacket while I’m chowing down. Because someone had to get a frigging hat trick tonight. Greedy old man! You need to learn some self-control from me!”

Silco rolled his eye at that; he’d never be able to beat, train or fuck the brat out of her. He’d summit Mount Targon on a pogo stick before that happened.

“Face now; lean forward.”

Jinx sighed and leaned forward and plopped her chin in his waiting palm as he tossed the used wipe to the side and took a fresh one out of the box. Silco wiped away the blood from her chin (and reminded himself to bandage her self-inflicted bite wound before they left) before removing the smudged makeup from under her eyes and cheeks. Jinx squirmed but didn’t try to pull away until he took this opportunity to clean behind her ears.

“Sssiiilllyyy ssssttooppp. You cleaned them last week!” He ignored her whinging and kept a firm grip on her chin.

“Please remain still, I’m already here. Allow me to do this for my own sanity. You have sump-crickets living back there.” Jinx giggled and stick her tongue out at him.

“No I don’t!” He looked at her with complete seriousness.

“Yes, you do. I hear them chirping at night. Keeps me awake.” Jinx hooted and slapped at arms.

“You are a silly old man! No….you’re a silly old shark!” Silco finished behind her ears and leaned forward with smirk, rubbing his nose against hers.

“Which makes me the perfect companion for bratty little bomb.”

Jinx blushed and kissed his vulture-like proboscis. Then she frowned and bit her lip.

“What happens when you run out of skin for me to doodle on?”

“I don’t want things to change. What if you stop loving me?”

“On that inevitable day; we shall have to find a new shared passion.”

“I don’t either but even if they do, I will never leave you or toss you aside.”

Jinx snorted and pouted.

“Ugh, don’t say the ‘liberation of Zaun’. BO-RING!”

“I’m the most important thing to you, right? Please let be so. I just need to know I'm someone’s someone.”

Silco laughed and leaned back in the stool; releasing her from his grip.

“You shall choose the activity. Anything is enjoyable to me when I’m with you.”

“I love you Jinx. Nothing on Runeterra could ever change that.”

Jinx arranged a cocky look on her face and stuck her nose in the air.

“Good to know! I’ll make a fun and cool guy out of you yet!”

“I love you Silco, so much it hurts.”

They stared at each other then. Her blue eyes were soft and earnest despite her sneer. His single blue-green orb was happy and content despite the devil’s mask it was nestled in.

Silco was very used to having two conversations at once with Jinx. He patted his thighs and stood, grunting as his knees popped.

“Jericho’s was on the agenda, I believe. Go get dressed.” Jinx turned and skipped back to the main spoke on the turbine, yelling out as she did.

“I already got an idea for where the next one should go! I just realized that I’ve been totally ignoring your butt! Probably because it’s so flat! I’m thinking…...more monkeys! Biting your butt! Hahahahaha!”

The Chem-Baron winced and rubbed his ass, already feeling the kiss of the needle. Well…... at least he wouldn’t have to look at that. It would be painful and she’d want to take forever with it. It would be hours of intricate work with him face down in her chair while she berated his narrow behind. No way out of it without disappointing her.

Such was life with Jinx.

He couldn’t wait for his next session. His head turned automatically at the sound of the bluenette yelling.

“SILLY! WHERE ARE MY FUCKING BOOTS? I CAN’T FIND THEM, I THINK MYLO TOOK’EM!”

Silco walked down the turbine blade to assist his little artist in locating her errant footwear. Feeling quite happy at the moment.

Love did hurt, like he told her but it didn’t only hurt.

One just had to learn to accept both.

Both the illustrated man and the illustrated girl would attest to that.