<div style="text-align: center"><div class="bbImageWrapper js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1632788372900-png.97076/" title="1632788372900.png">
<img alt="1632788372900.png" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1632788372900-png.97076/" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="600" src="data:image/svg+xml;charset=utf-8,%3Csvg xmlns%3D'http%3A%2F%2Fwww.w3.org%2F2000%2Fsvg' width='900' height='600' viewBox%3D'0 0 900 600'%2F%3E" style="width: 300px" title="1632788372900.png" width="900"/>
<noscript><img alt="1632788372900.png" class="bbImage" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="600" src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1632788372900-png.97076/" style="width: 300px" title="1632788372900.png" width="900"/></noscript>
</div><br/>
<br/>
<b>Tyche</b><br/>​</div>Tyche had been in the mortal realm when the event happened, enjoying a nice stroll around an abandoned casino and raiding the bar areas for soda. Even despite the horrors outside, he felt at home in such an establishment, even as he felt the natural warmth of his powers leave his body.<br/><br/>The human form he had picked out, Faust, was far from the usual fairness of his godly physique, but there were still enough similarities that one could tell at a glance who the god of fortune was. The beautiful silver hair, partially lumped into a tight ponytail, the rest flowing over his broad shoulders. The long healed cuts and scrapes and wounds visible on his forearms beneath the dull gray t-shirt he wore, similar injuries hidden along his torso and back and legs.<br/><br/>It had been a long, long time since Tyche had taken such wounds, the powerful flow of his own good fortune saving his life more times than he could count. Even in beautiful Troy, he had taken a handful of injuries to protect other gods, and would occasionally hear his name uttered in the soldiers' prayers alongside the likes of Athena, Ares, and Nike.<br/><br/>Tyche traced along a stark white scar that contrasted sharply with his soft tan, the wound as old as warfare, bestowed to him when he shielded Athena from Ares' sword once, the blade piercing cleanly between his radius and ulna and sending the god of fortune from the battlefield. Despite the scar, Tyche couldn't remember whether it was a duel turned sour or an actual feud between the two war goddesses; only that he had paid for his intervention.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">------------<br/>​</div>Tyche sighed softly at the fading memory and stepped toward the entrance of the casino, grabbing a paring knife from behind the bar and snatching up the duffel bag he had found, the sack crammed full of snacks and treats. "I am Faust. I am Fortune..." He murmured as he took another step toward the entrance. Faust took another step, and another, and forced himself to step foot outside. The former god kicked aside one of the half-corpses by the door, its bones making a sickening crunch against the underside of his sneakers.<br/><br/>"I suppose I shouldn't just wait here if I want to be found." Faust lamented as he stepped over another semi-decayed body. It was the sheer dumb luck of the god that had managed to force these creatures into such a sorry, crippled state that they could neither run nor fight him, serving as a living barricade of desiccated flesh that kept the hordes at bay while he had scrounged through the casino's supplies. At one point, he had considered going back to Olympus, but he figured the gods that resided there would eventually notice what was happening in the mortal realm. Apparently, he mused to himself, they had noticed far too late.<br/><br/>Faust now began strolling through the streets, hoping the fragment of his powers that controlled his own fortune would still shield him from notice for a little while, but that too seemed a dream too sweet for reality. In his favor, though, he was at least able to notice another divine being, similarly stripped of their powers. He vaguely recognized the man, the blind archer if he remembered correctly.<br/><br/><i><b>"Speak."</b></i>The former cherub's words had a certain power, though Faust believed it might just be for show. And off to the side of the blind man... Faust couldn't quite make out the identity of the figure, but it appeared to be that of a woman. Not that that narrowed down the list of deities much, for a majority of his divine cousins didn't much seem to mind a change of gender now and then. Faust merely waited in the shadows across the street, not yet daring to close the gap on the off chance he startled the pair by some trick of poor fortune.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><b>LOCATION: MADRID | INTERACTIONS: <a class="username" data-user-id="9084" data-username="MARYGOLD" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/9084/">MARYGOLD</a> (ATE), <a class="username" data-user-id="9088" data-username="CASTOR" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/9088/">CASTOR</a> (EROS)</b>​</div>