20021/Luck Runneth Rampant

Luck Runneth Rampant
Date of Scene:	06 February 2025
Location:	145 Central Park Penthouse
Synopsis:	Jen comes down from Fabian's power-boost of her probability powers.
Cast of Characters:	Jennifer Stavros, Mary Bromfield

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Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Jen still wasn't sure how she did it - if she did it at all - but after her little disaster with Fabian Cortez and one stolen Porsche later, she found herself on her couch. At least she wasn't calling herself Tyche _much_ anymore but the universe was still freaking her out, maaan.

Hence the third? Fourth? Something like that.

Fourth stolen beer from Mary - lucky for her she'd just reloaded her supply and it was cold and tasty and the alcohol made dealing with ... everything ... a little easier. Or at least made her not care so much. And when she had come home originally Tyche - that cow - had raided her wardrobe to find something suitable for her to wear. Which would be why she was wearing what should have been a lethally hot little off-the-shoulder number in emerald green silk, but Tyche kept trying to style it like one of her togas or something.

Ancient Greek fashion was never her thing, really.

But now her stomach was protesting being presented with nothing but beer and Tyche couldn't figure out Doordash, so it was up to Jen to procure sustenance. And, naturally, she wanted a taste of home. But rather than Tastycakes and A-Treat, she was craving crap she couldn't even pronounce, let alone find on Doordash. Hence her mindless scrolling through her delivery app trying to find something to appease Her Luckyness.

Mary Bromfield has posed:
There's a distant boom of thunder in the skies above, and then the front door opens a few moments later, revealing Mary coming in. Apparently having just finished a patrol and coming home...

To find Jennifer looking decidedly /different/. Though with Mary's magical awareness, she immediately pinged that something was up as she arched a brow, "Hey, Jen... ah, what gives?" She looks at her a bit curiously, "Hot date tonight? Because that isn't normally your style, but it looks good on you, I have to say."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Jen looked at Mary with ageless eyes that had gazed into places she couldn't even conceive of. And then Jen coughed on her mouthful of beer as Tyche surged back to the forefront. "What _are_ you?" she said, her voice still unmistakably Jen's but ... different. Something about the way she hit her vowels, invoking a non-native English speaker.

Which Jen was decidedly _not_.

She surged to her feet, the awkwardly draped dress revealing more Jen than she typically showed without drinks and dinner first. One eyes glowed white, the other black. "I see. An invested vessel, channeling borrowed might." she mused to herself as she looked at Mary.

"How droll."

Mary Bromfield has posed:
Mary frowned a bit, "Okay, first off, considering you're residing in the body of a friend of mine without invitation, that's pretty rich. Secondly, you're in /my/ home so you should be a little more polite." She narrows her eyes, and then a bit of a grin quirks over her lips.

"And third... SHAZAM!" With that, thunder roars in the apartment, as she suddenly transforms into Thunderbolt, as apparently she decided to channel the goddesses right away for this.

"So, I'm going to ask, nicely. Who are you, and what have you done with the actual /owner/ of that body?" And her tone indicates that the answers better be good ones, otherwise it's going to get rather real, /real/ fast.

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Tyche laughed. "Threaten me all you like, but you forget who I am." Tyche said with a dismissive look. "Posturing and smooth muscle may excite this poor herald, but I find them all droll. My cousins used to be so much more _amusing_ than this." Tyche said. Then, luckily, a thought came to her. "Do you even know who I am?" she asked curiously. "Does all that vaunted wisdom give you any indication?" she said with a small smile. "This vessel reached out to me, placing her thumb upon the scales of fate, defying Atropos and her hag sisters. For that alone I could love her." she said with a merry laugh.

Mercurial, Tyche was. "And a child of our people, however far we are from the Isles."

Mary Bromfield has posed:
Mary narrows her eyes, then sighs, "Of course, it would be /you/." She crosses her arms, "Figures. So what are you doing in her body, anyway." Unlike some of her siblings, she does actually take the time to consult the goddesses in her head, and Athena and Mnemosyne were giving her the 4-1-1 about who Tyche is, and what she represents.

Hence why Mary was careful to avoid invoking anything that might strain the rules of probability. So it wouldn't snap unfavorably against her, since Jen's powers were unpredictable enough already. With a goddess boosting them... well, best not to have the building collapse on them in a fit of pique.

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
"As my poor abused herald would say - she got lucky. She found her grasp vastly exceeded her ability to ... cope? Yes. Cope. The poor dear was going mad. And as a child of the Isles, even a few mortal generations removed, she is the perfect choice for my herald. For as long as she can reach the scales of fate, she is mine." she said proudly.

"Poor lost little dear, floundering into and out of the grasp of those who believe her her betters. Aimless, spiting the odds for her own meager benefit. And taking up with a seer ..." and Tyche's face twisted at _that_ notion "... and a composite leech of my relations power." she said with a sassy little wave that was pure Jen.

Apparently the crossover might be a little more two-way than Tyche liked to admit.

"It's been so long since I stretched out my hand and guided the destinies of cities. Still this world is passing strange." she mused.

"Would youi dine with me, cousins?" she asked suddenly. "Mortality is a strange thing and my vessel requires nourishment."

Mary Bromfield has posed:
Mary's eye twitches just a bit at the comment about her being a 'leech', and Athena seems to be telling her not to just punch Tyche out the window. She does, however, nod slightly, smiling a bit graciously as a Queen might, channeling Hippolyta as best as she can. "Indeed. It can be a bit of a trial, can't it? Craving something of the flavors of our ancestral home?" She does, in fact, adopt a bit of the mannerisms that Tyche might expect, hoping that she thinks that it's the goddesses talking and not just Mary, with the goddesses coaching her on what to say.

And hoping this egomaniac makes a mistake sometime soon...

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Tyche smiled. Lucky for her, the Gods will always out over some mortal wench. "I would enjoy that a great deal." she said. "Shall you make the arrangements, or shall I? It is your home and I am a guest here, so it is your right." she admitted.

Ah, the laws of hospitality. Even between Gods. But then Tyche reeled, collapsing back onto the couch.

"No!" she protested, and then switched entirely to ancient Greek. "My herald - whatever allowed her to reach far is fading, and I fade with it. Cousins, save me!" she demanded in the imperial mode.

Mary Bromfield has posed:
Mary smirked, "Sorry, Tyche, but this 'leech' and her /matrons/ are in agreement that you gotta go. Though I'm sure, like any bad penny, you'll turn up again. But one thing." She moves closer, switching to Ancient Greek to match as she meet Tyche's gaze.

"You keep hospitality in mind when you're a guest in /her/ body, too." And there's definitely a satisfaction eminating from the goddesses that empower Thunderbolt, as she glares daggers at Tyche, letting her presence fade away from Jennifer for the moment.

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
"Ow. Fuck." said Jen as Tyche's last remnants faded from her mind. Hello, epic beer and powers hangover. "Umm." she said as she tried in vain to tuck herself back in, but the green silk was probably a hopeless cause without some epic dry-cleaning. "My brain hurts." she admitted in a very small, very broken voice.

Mary Bromfield has posed:
Thunderbolt breathes a sigh of relief, "Considering there was a literal Greek Goddess of Luck rummaging around your head, drinking my beers, and making you have... questionable fashion choices? You're lucky that's all that hurts, Jen." She smiles a little, and places her hands on Jen's shoulders, her voice lowering a bit as she now does show her actual concern, "Other than that, you okay? Though at this point, no more booze. Probably water, or maybe some tea."

Jennifer Stavros has posed:
Jen, at the kindness being shown to her, broke entirely. Sobbing, heaving breaths, snot, the whole nine. She was incoherent, inconsolable, until she finally cried herself and slipped into unconsciousness.