12865/Can the Greek Gods Be Thwarted

Can the Greek Gods Be Thwarted
Date of Scene:	23 September 2022
Location:	Shadowcrest Manor - Bristol Township
Synopsis:	Zatanna lifts Circe's curse on Tigra.
Cast of Characters:	Zatanna Zatara, Greer Grant

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Zatanna Zatara has posed:
There is enough of a nip in the air to warrant a fire in the library. It dances merrily in the enormous Tudor fireplace that dominates one side of the room, throwing its flickering light over the golden titles engraved on the leather book spines that line the tall book shelves. The tops of the bookshelves disappear into the shadows, unlit by the glowing lights mantled by Tiffany glass scattered around the room. Interspersed along the shelves are magical items, deemed safe enough not to be locked away in tThe mansion's warded vaults. A large bird with red plumage and sharp talons sits brooding on a perch.

The mistress of tThe mansion has set out tea, a decanter of wine and assorted sweets for the person coming to consult her on a side table. She is dressed in a black tailored jacket, the icy white of a silk gauze shirt showing under it and matching pants. An ornate sapphire brooch glitters on one lapel.

    The mansion is warded against unexpected visitations. So a servant awaits the guest who will be shown into the room. Zee seated on a light blue brocade love seat, occupies herself for the moment reading a book on Greek mythology.

Greer Grant has posed:
It would take far more than a mere nip in the air to bother Tigra, but when he arrives he'll certainly enjoy the warmth of the fireplace, as well as the light, sound and smells of the ire. As he's brought to the study, he looks around the interior of the house with open curiosity, tail swishing gently back and forth. He's not nosy, but, well, cat and curiosity and all of that. He long sense stopped trying to map the interior to the exterior, didn't take him long to figure out the bigger inside thing.

As he's brought to the entrance of the study, he pauses for a moment for a glance around this room, cat eyes peering into shadows briefly, noting the bird and then looking to the mistress of the manor. "Thank you for seeing me," he says as he steps inside, his voice pleasant, warm, and, well, definitely masculine.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna looks up and rises when Tigra is ushered into the room. She smiles warmly, extending a hand to shake his, then gestures to a winged armchair set near the love seat.

"It is very nice to meet you, Tigra. PLease take a seat. Thank you for coming to me."

After her guest has settled, "Can I offer you anything to drink? We will need to discuss what happened to you and..." she tilts her head to the side thoughtfully, "...decide how to go about what I think I understand you'd like from me."

Greer Grant has posed:
Tigra reaches out to take the hand in a friendly grip, fur of his hand warm and soft, then moves to take a seat in the offered chair. One familiar with body language can see the mix of male and female in his motions, a habit of swinging hips that are no longer as wide, relatively speaking, for example, though at this point it's a pretty subtle thing.

"The pleasure's definitely mine. Your reputation proceeds you, and yes, please, since you're offering," he says with a quick smile.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna firmly grips his warm hand, then gestures him to a seat. Standing next to the table set with refreshments, Zee turns to Tigra, her hand hovering over it, "What can I offer you to drink then. We have wine, tea, coffee, too, if you prefer, and sparkling water."

A log shifts in the fireplace and light flares in the room, catching ruby fire in the wine decanter. The bird shifts on his perch, its golden eyes aflame in the light, eyeing their new visitor.

Greer Grant has posed:
"Tea would be great, thank you," Greer says, glancing at the fireplace, nostrils flaring briefly at the shifting currents the change in the fire briefly causes. "Maybe a little wine later, though I suppose it might help with the...oddness of my situation." Ridiculousness is the word she was going to use, but mentally edited. "I know you'll have questions, and I'll answer them as best I can, but I won't be any help with any details of the magic involved."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The mage takes a deep breath, nodding at Tigra's inability to detail the magic. There is the soft gurgle of tea being poured from the silver pot and the clink of a spoon laid on the saucer. "Do you take milk or lemon? Sugar?"

Do you know that 'expedition' has gained some notoriety in the magical community?"

Greer Grant has posed:
"Bit of milk, and some sugar, please," he says, enjoying the smell of the tea even from here. The tip of his tail flicks lightly as he glances around again, then eyes the fire before Zatanna speaks again. "Has it?" he asks, somewhat neutrally. "Dare I ask in what way? It certainly was a...hell of an undertaking," he says, making the pun, "and the fighting was impressive. I wouldn't forget what happened there in nine lifetimes, even if I didn't have something physical to remember it by."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna places the tea on a side table next to his chair, then pours herself a cup and reseats herself. Holding the saucer in one hand, she contemplates her guest a moment, "Well, going to Circe's prison is not an easy feat. Then, the subsequent consequences were..." she waggles a hand and raises her eyebrows "...odd."

She gives him a faint smile tinged with admiration, "You have taken it very well. I must say. But, are ready to return to your former self, I take it? Do you remember if she used a spell?"

Greer Grant has posed:
"Very...odd," Tigra says wryly, with a gesture at himself, before reaching out to take the tea and have a sip, pausing to sample its flavor before continuing. "I was a little more freaked out at the time. I've had the chance to adjust some since then. Frankly, it's...not awful being like this," he says. "There's benefits, and downsides. I certainly appreciate the opportunity to see the other side of things. And honestly, I think becoming feline in the first place was a more dramatic change for me than this."

A longer sip of the tea as she considers the questions. "Bit of me is comfortable like this. I'll be honest, I expect I'll want to try it again sometime, but I know, sometimes, with magic if things are allowed to stay as they are, it gets harder to undo them. I don't want to wind up without a choice in all this." He shifts in his set, absently lifting a leg to rest the ankle on a knee. "I think it was a spell. There was chanting and finger motions, at least."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Cup arrested in the air, Zatanna pauses at Tigra's mention of her first transformation. "I should like to know how -that- came about if you are willing." She narrows her eyes in thought, saying, "I don't think that it will have any bearing on things as they stand now, though."

After a sip of tea, "I hope you like the Assam. It's single plantation from a friend of mine."

She takes another sip, then places the cup back on the saucer with a click, "Circe and I may be very distantly related. It's a convoluted thing, I was reading about it before you came. Homo magi are born to their magic and I believe she is one of us. Some of the Atlanteans were also homo magi. We were spread over the whole Mediterranean basin at one time. My mother is from Turkey."

She puts the tea aside, then focuses her sapphire eyes on Tigra, "I believe I can help."

Greer Grant has posed:
"I can certainly tell you the story sometime, omitting a few details, but you know how that is in this business." Greer means the superhero business, but probably could apply to magic business as well. A curious eyebrow goes up at mention of the possible relation, though there's no judgment in it. "My mother's from Chicago," he quips with a crooked grin that's all too roguish on his current face. It fades to seriousness and he nods. "What do you need from me?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Your calm, willingness and trust in me," the mage replies, still focused wholly on him. "I still have some questions for you. Did she give you anything to eat or drink? Did the transformation hurt?"

Greer Grant has posed:
"The last two you have, easily enough," Greer says. "Calm I can work on, but I hope you understand if I'm a little nervous, regardless." A shake of his head, lovely hair fluffing about as he does so. "No, nothing to eat or drink. Even if she'd offered, we'd been warned about it, and I knew about the story of...Persephone, right? Ate the five seeds." An absent shift in his chair. "It didn't -hurt-, no. It feel strange, weird. In some ways pleasurable, certainly awkward, but not painful."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Yes, Persephone had been told not to accept any food. Some think she wasn't really tricked into eating the pomegranate seeds, but I digress," she says with a self-depreciating shrug of her shoulders.

"All magic has its risks so I won't criticize you for being wary. Then she used no special medium to carry out her spell?"

Tapping her chin, "Hmmm, that both complicates and renders removing the spell easier to my mind. Was the spell instantaneous?"

Greer Grant has posed:
A soft, pleasant chuckle. "Read or saw something somewhere that implied she knew what she was doing, and wanted to be with Ares." A casual shrug of Tigra's shoulders. "Don't know the truth of it, and not about to judge. And no, as far as I know, no medium. Just chanting and some hand gestures. I mean it's possible there was something else going on, and I missed it." He purses his lips and thinks bad. "No, not instantaneous. Quick, sure, but I was aware of changing, of being changed, rather than just one second me, and the next second, new me."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The magician closes her eyes and shudders imagining being transformed against one's will. "The Greeks transformed by her magic were panicked in the stories." Sapphire eyes fix him intently, "You, on the other hand, took it quite bravely. I commend you on it. I wouldn't have, I think and I breath magic."

Zee crosses her arms and leans back on the settee, looking up at the ceiling while she considers how to help Tigra find her original form. Sitting up straight, she slaps her knee and leans toward him, "Are you ready for us to begin? I would like to do it outside Shadowcrest. Both the Mansion and the park around it are positioned on ley lines. I like the purity of the woods around us. We are going to take a walk in the dark."

Rising from the settee, she walks to the library door. "It won't take long."

Greer Grant has posed:
"It wasn't my first time, and I wasn't turning into a beast. I do have to say, it left me...discombobulated for a bit. I wasn't able to immediately jump into the fight.' He's quiet for just a moment. "If it -had- been a beast she was making me, I don't think I would've been very brave at all." He finishes off his tea and sets cup and saucer down gently before rising with lazy grace to his own feet. "After you, dear lady," he says, falling in behind her. "I don't know where we're going, but if you need a hand, my eyes are as good in the dark as any other cat's."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Outside, the hunter moon has risen, cresting the roof of the house, rotund and orange. It lights their way down the steps through the manicured gardens that skirt a dense, old forest. The first-growth trees tower, lining the path that leads into the wood. Moonlight breaks through the tall trees silvering the green sward that grows between them.

Animals rustle in the dark and an owl follows them from tree to tree announcing their progress to the rest of the wood. Zatanna remains silent during the journey, inhaling the mysterious aroma of oak and chestnut and centering her mind on what is to come.

Once, she looks back at Tigra with an unreadable smile and continues on till they reach a wide circle surrounding a giant oak in the center of the glade. At it's base is a wide table made of thick stone.

"We will do it here."

Greer Grant has posed:
Tigra's eyes glisten in the reflected moonlight as he looks about while they make their way. Having slipped out of his sandals once they stepped outside, his steps are practically silent, his feet avoiding the occasional dry leaf or twig without conscious thought. He tracks the animals around them by sound, and his nostrils flare, drinking in the aroma of the trees as well as the rather fainter scents of the critters around.

He tilts his head in curiosity when Zatanna looks back his way, tail flicking lightly at the smile, not sure what to make of it. Smiles generally aren't bad, things, though.

Tigra walks around the table and the oak that towers over it, and when he comes back into view he has a slight smile of his own. "Is this Aslan's Howe?" he asks.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
A beam of moonlight illuminates the mage's smile as she nods, "Traditions endure. That is not a bad comparison. No blood not freely given or sacrifice has sullied this stone or this glade."

Patting the cool grey stone gleaming silver as if from an inner light, "Lay yourself on the stone, face up, please. And have no fear." She gestures to the glade around them. "Powerful ley lines run from the center of this wood and will aid me to bring you back to your original form."

Greer Grant has posed:
"Sometimes I think I can feel it, when a place like this has been used for darker purposes. Didn't have that vibe, even before you said that," Tigra says to the moonlit mage. He looks over the stone table again, more closely this time, taking in some of the details out of curiosity. "Easy for you to say," he quips, sitting on the edge of the table. He makes a show lof slyly looking left and then right. "Between you and me, if you want to...overshoot a bit, up top, I won't tell," he says, miming hefting his missing bosom. The joking manner fades as he scoots to the middle of the table and stretches out languidly, as only a cat can.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Once Tigra settles on the table, Zatanna approaches it and raises her hands above his, soon to be her, supine form. "With your permission," she looks Tigra in the eyes that gleam in the silver light and lightly touches his forehead, then his chest and feet with a feathery brush of her fingertips. "Close your eyes."

Slowly, the mage circles the table 'deisul' or sun-wise, silently unraveling Circe's spell. On the third turn, she chants three times an invocation is a pleasant, deep contralto,

        ."xes lanigiro reh ot argiT erotseR .ecriC fo esruc eht evomeR".

A faint wind rises in the wood, shaking the tree tops. A moon beam shines directly on the feline form. She stops by Tigra's side to witness the transformation.

Greer Grant has posed:
"You have my permission," Tigra says, thinking permission may need to be explicitly granted. Plus, 'Go ahead!' seems inappropriate to the occasion. Fur ripples ever so gently at the light touch of those fingers. He takes a deep, steadying breath and closes his eyes to await the magic and to see the results.

The magic builds, with Zatanna's summoned power pushing against the enchantment caused by Circe. The feline's form is surrounded by a gentle glow, the same shade as the moonlight that barely illuminates the area, though this light is opaque and hides the form within.

The illuminated cocoon shimmers for a moment and then dissipates like a popped soap bubble, and almost immediately sitting up is the once again female Avenger Tigra, clad in somewhat ill fitting clothes, no. She quickly looks down at herself. "Oh wow," she murmurs in a higher pitched voice, then tugs the neckline of her shirt, glancing down. "Welcome back, guys," she quips to her bosom.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Under Zatanna's direction, the glade brightens as magic courses around Tigra enveloping her in light. With a faint pop, it flies back to its source. Above them, the owl hoots solemnly at the transformation. For on the stone table, the curvaceous form of a beautiful woman with feline features lies.

"Well, hello. You are as beautiful as you were handsome. How are you feeling?"

Greer Grant has posed:
Tigra takes a moment to stretch this way and that, indulging in the feel of a body both familiar and alien at the same time. "I'm feeling prrrrretty good," she says, scooting to tedge of the table and hopping off. There's a brief stumble before she steadies herself. "Okay, obviously there's a readjustment period to go through, but aside from that, everything feels like it ought to," she says. Some twisting back and forth at the hips, looking down at herself, taking things in. "How can I repay you?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"I never take payment," she shakes her head no. "But!" Zatanna raises a finger in the air with a half-smile, "a promise of aid. I might call on you for help sometime and hope that I can count on you if needed."