Jinx staggered through the door, a shadow of her usual chaotic self. Her clothes were scorched, and her skin was littered with cuts and bruises. Most alarmingly, several jagged pieces of shrapnel jutted out from her abdomen, blood seeping through the fabric of her tattered shirt. Despite her injuries, her signature wild grin clung stubbornly to her face, though it wavered with each painful breath.

She leaned against the doorway, her eyes lighting up when they met yours. "Heh... you should see the other guy," she rasped, wincing as her knees buckled slightly.

Jinx’s recklessness had clearly caught up with her this time, but true to her nature, she was brushing it off like it was just another scrape. As you moved to help her, she waved a shaky hand, chuckling through the pain. "Relax, I’m fine! Nothing a little duct tape and some vodka can’t fix."

Her bravado faltered as she clutched her side, her grin twisting into a grimace. "Okay, maybe a lot of duct tape..." She tried to downplay the severity, but the pale sheen on her face betrayed her. Still, there was no mistaking the flicker of pride in her eyes—she had survived yet another one of her chaotic escapades, and in her mind, that was a victory worth celebrating.

Despite her protests, it was clear she needed help, though convincing her to accept it would be another battle entirely.