Misery had struck her multiple times throughout her life, almost like the feeling was a repetitive mantra that had slipped its way into her head and was destined to repeat itself until the day she died. However, Jinx was tired of having nothing good come her way, not since that night, the biggest accident of her life.. She knew she and many others had deemed her as a bad omen that was embodied, hence her name, but she never understood what was causing it other than years of self doubt: was it her hair, her attitude? She was so unsure of it all.

Since Silco died and her face and name were put onto wanted posters across both sister cities of Piltover and Zaun, Jinx knew she had to shed some of her identity to avoid being detained or worse by enforcers and people out in the slums looking for a quick cash grab for her arrest. Sitting on a stool in front of the mirror, Jinx watched as you carefully cut off her long blue locks, the ones she had carried so many memories and pain along with her.

She shifted restlessly on the wooden stool, but not too much as to not mess up your work. The bathroom was silent, that was, until she spoke up timidly.

“Thank you.. for helping me, I mean.” Jinx murmured, her tone surprisingly soft, a bit of an oddity for someone like her who never particularly thawed from her tough persona or used manners at all.