Arcane: INSANE (OC X JINX)

Do you all actually believe that everyone is born equal? Let us take the citizen of Piltover and Zaun as an exemple.

I bet you can't name even one thing they have in common... Apart from the fact that most of them are human, but then we go back to the meaning of the word human.

A human; is it a creature? A living being? A concept?

Can you really call yourself a human?

Did you ever kill? That doesn't make you human anymore but a monster. Still, you were born human.

What's your objective in life? Happiness?

Would you kill for that happiness?

Would you fight for that happiness?

No? You really think it'll come that easily, on a golden plate for you, no. Sometimes, you just gotta fight for it.

This was the philosophy of a certain prodigy, born in the dark non family friendly streets of Zaun, the Underworld city.

The rich in Piltover look down on the poor, the strong crush the weak, and the lucky find their way to power while the rest of them—like Bael—are left to scrape by. Life here isn't about fairness. It's about survival. And survival, for Bael, had never been easy.

Orphaned at a young age, Bael never had much luck. He was a street kid, one of many whose dreams were crushed before they could even begin. But unlike the others, Bael had something they didn't—a mind that constantly raced with ideas. Inventing was his escape, his way of making sense of the world, of building something better in a place where everything fell apart. But even a genius can't escape Zaun's harsh realities, and Bael learned that quickly.

The only person who ever understood him was Powder, a little girl with wild, untamed eyes and a heart that burned brighter than any explosion.

Powder wasn't like the others, either. She had dreams too, but they were fueled by a need for validation, for recognition. She wasn't just a kid from Zaun—she was the one person who could make Bael feel like he mattered, even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

They were inseparable, partners in crime, taking on the dangerous streets of Zaun together.

Vi, the only one who could hold the group together, occasionally invited Bael on missions. He was smart, resourceful, and didn't back down from danger.

She trusted him—more than most, at least. But for Bael, it was always more about being there for Powder. After all, in a world where no one had much of anything, they had each other. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped low behind the toxic haze of Zaun, Powder found herself wandering the familiar, crooked streets toward the abandoned house. It was a place few dared to approach, but for Powder, it was home—a secret haven shared only with Bael.

She pushed open the creaky door, its hinges protesting loudly, and stepped into the dim, dusty interior. The scent of old wood and stale air greeted her. Bael's hiding spot was tucked away in the back, a small room behind a collapsed wall, where he'd managed to rig a few lamps to keep the place from being swallowed by complete darkness.

"Bael?" she called out, her voice bouncing off the walls.

From the corner, she saw him emerge, wiping his hands on a rag. His face lit up when he saw her, the usual quiet determination in his eyes softening into something like relief. He had been working on something again—tools scattered across the table, a half-finished contraption in the corner.

"Hey, Powder," Bael said with a crooked grin. "What's up? I thought you were with Vi today."

Powder kicked the door shut behind her and bounced over to where Bael stood, her mismatched eyes gleaming with excitement. "I was, but I told her I'd take a break. I wanted to see what you were up to."

Bael raised an eyebrow, glancing at the clutter of blueprints and gears. "Nothing much, just tinkering. You know how it is. Couldn't stop myself."

Powder's gaze shifted to the half-built device on the table. "What is that? It looks like a bomb."

Bael chuckled. "Well, you're not wrong. It's just... something to help with the next mission Vi has in mind. You know how things go when you're dealing with Piltover's finest."

She laughed too, her voice high and unrestrained. "I love when you make stuff for us. You're the only one who makes me feel like we can actually take on those idiots."

Bael shrugged, turning back to his work. "I just try to keep up. Don't want to let you down."

Powder stepped closer, her expression softening. "You never do. You're my best friend, Bael."

Bael glanced up, meeting her eyes, and for a moment, the weight of the world outside seemed to lift. It was just the two of them in this tiny corner of Zaun, a fleeting moment of peace in the chaos of their lives.

Bael looked up from his workbench as Powder bounced over to the far corner of the room. She had something in her hands, something wrapped in a rag. He raised an eyebrow as she unwrapped it, revealing a strange, cobbled-together contraption—a mixture of pipes, wires, and a hissing nozzle that looked like it could either shoot fire or explode.

Bael chuckled softly, his lips tugging into a grin. "What is this one? Another 'improvement' on the last one that almost sent you to the healer?"

Powder's cheeks flushed a little, but she grinned back. "It's different this time, I swear! I thought... maybe you could help me figure out what's wrong with it. You know, make it work?"

"Well, you've definitely got the ambition down," Bael said with a small smirk. "But I think you've got the pressure regulator wrong here. It's likely the reason it keeps blowing up in your face."

Powder sighed dramatically, sitting down beside him. "I knew it! I thought it was a good idea, but every time I try, it just... goes boom instead of doing what I want."

Bael chuckled, though there was a hint of fondness in his voice. "Well, that's the thing about explosions, Powder. They're fun, but they don't always do what you want. Let me see what I can do."

After a few moments, Bael adjusted a few parts, tightened a few screws, and tested the mechanism. The device hissed to life, but this time, it didn't explode—it whirred smoothly, a controlled jet of steam shooting from the nozzle.

Powder's eyes lit up, her face splitting into a wide grin. "You did it! You really did it!"

Bael sat back, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "It's not perfect, but it'll work for now. Just... maybe don't try it out on the next mission, alright?"

Powder laughed, a carefree sound that echoed in the small room. "Deal! You're the best, Bael."

The hours slipped by unnoticed, filled with the clink of tools and the hum of invention. Powder's enthusiasm was infectious to say the least.

She kept pulling out new inventions, each one more daring than the last, and Bael would always find a way to help—sometimes with a small tweak, other times completely reworking the systems.

After some time...

"I can't believe it's already so late," she murmured, her voice thick with the quiet realization of how much time had passed.

Bael rubbed his eyes, his own exhaustion catching up to him. "Yeah...guess we lost track of time."

Powder shifted uneasily, looking toward the door, then back at him. "I should probably head back to the others... but I don't want to. It's... it's nice here. With you."

Bael nodded, his faint smile speaking volumes. "It's fine. No one's really going to miss us. It's just... us, right?"

Powder nodded, but she didn't move. Instead, she yawned and stretched, rolling her shoulders as though trying to shake off the fatigue that had been building all evening.

"Maybe I'll stay just a little longer," she said, her voice trailing off as she curled up into a small ball, resting her cheek against the floor. "Just until I'm ready to go."

Bael watched her, unsure whether to insist or let her stay. But it didn't matter. The room was quiet, the only light coming from the flickering lamps on the walls, casting long shadows across the space.

The tub was large, too big for just one person, but it was the best Bael could offer. Its hard, worn surface was softened by a few pillows stacked at one end, making it harsh but oddly comforting.

The room was still, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath him. He glanced over at Powder, her breathing slow and steady as she slept. Without a second thought, he grabbed a blanket from the pile and gently draped it over her, careful not to disturb her. The rough fabric was a far cry from the soft beds of Piltover, but it would do.

Bael looked down at her again, feeling the quiet weight of the moment. She looked peaceful, even with the hard floor beneath her. He settled into his chair, the faint light from the lamps casting soft shadows across the room.

Eventually, when the drunkeness from exhaustion seemed to have reached its peak, Bael joined in.

Morning...

Bael stirred awake, his senses slowly dragging him out of the haze of sleep. His first thought was confusion—the feeling of warmth pressed against him wasn't normal.

He froze, his mind racing. What the hell? The memories of the night before came rushing back—the hours spent tinkering and laughing until they'd both passed out in the tub. But this? This was... different. Her grip was firm, almost desperate, and he could feel her soft breathing against him, steady and peaceful.

His jaw tightened. This wasn't good. Powder didn't think about consequences like this, but Bael did. If Vi or Vander—or worse, Mylo—found them like this, there'd be questions. Awkward, endless questions. And Bael wasn't the type to explain himself.

"Powder..." he whispered, his voice low and urgent. He tried to nudge her gently, but she only gripped him tighter, letting out a small, sleepy whine.

"Five more minutes," she mumbled, her voice muffled against his chest.

Bael's stress spiked. He glanced toward the cracked door, half expecting Vi to storm in at any moment. "Powder, come on," he whispered more sharply this time, shaking her lightly. "You can't stay like this. What if someone sees us?"

"So here you are."

The voice cut through the silence like a blade, freezing Bael in place. His heart leaped into his throat as he spun around, eyes wide. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed and wearing her signature smirk, was Vi.

"V-Violet?!" he stammered, his voice louder than intended, betraying his panic.

Vi tilted her head, a wry grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Don't act so surprised," she said casually. "I knew about your little hideout here a while ago. And I knew Powder would end up spending the night with you eventually."

Bael's jaw dropped, his brain scrambling to process her words. "H-How did you...?" he muttered, unable to string together a proper sentence.

Vi shrugged, stepping further into the room, her boots crunching softly against the scattered debris. "Powder can't keep secrets, Bael. She's been talking about you and this spot for weeks. I just didn't say anything because, well…" She gestured to the sleeping Powder, curled up in the tub. "I figured she could use a night away."

Bael glanced down at Powder, still clinging to the blanket, her face peaceful and unbothered. His face flushed, part from embarrassment and part from fear of what Vi might say next.

"Look, Vi," he began, his voice low and urgent. "It's not what it looks like. She was just tired, and we were working on her gadgets, and—"

Vi rolled her eyes, cutting him off with a wave of her hand. "Relax, Bael. I'm not here to chew you out." Her expression softened as she glanced at Powder. "She's been through a lot lately.

Bael blinked, momentarily thrown off by her tone. "You're… okay with this?"

Vi snorted, leaning against the wall. "Don't push it. I'm just saying, I get it. But don't let it happen too often, or Vander'll have your head."

Bael let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, nodding quickly. "Got it."

Vi pushed off the wall, her smirk returning. "Good. Now wake her up. Breakfast's on, and if you two don't hurry, Mylo's gonna eat it all."

With that, she turned and disappeared back through the door, leaving Bael standing there, half-relieved, half-shaken. He looked back at Powder, still obliviously sleeping, and sighed. "Guess we dodged that one," he muttered before gently nudging her awake.