Xenoverse origins / R-006
Jelly Beanz JenOrigin story
Luck spat her out first
Jen promised she could never lose. The carnival took that personally.
Read the origin ↓
Placeholder artworkJelly Beanz Jen built her reputation on three victories, fourteen retellings, and a bag of sweets she rattled whenever an opponent hesitated. The sweets were ordinary. The hesitation was profitable. Before long, people believed she carried a charm that made bad outcomes someone else’s problem.
Jen encouraged the misunderstanding with the restraint of a brass band falling down stairs. Her Xenoverse origin is the story of the night the illusion stopped paying: a carnival game, a prize she could not resist, and a crowd that discovered confidence was funnier when served upside down.
Luck loves an audience, especially when you are the entertainment.
From the dossier
Chapter 01
A winner with excellent witnesses
She worked the small games first. Cups, counters, painted wheels, harmless wagers between people who wanted to feel interesting. Jen watched hands and breathing. She remembered which dealer looked left before cheating and which customer increased a bet after being praised. Luck received the credit because explaining the technique would have damaged the margins.
The nickname came from the sweets. She handed a jelly bean to anyone who lost politely. It made the defeat feel like a transaction that included refreshments. Some returned specifically to lose to her. Jen began believing that she possessed something beyond observation. The difference was small but fatal: previously she had studied a game before playing; now she expected the game to recognize her. When a travelling carnival advertised an undefeated wheel, she arrived wearing the expression of a correction about to be issued. The operator invited her to inspect the prize.
Placeholder artworkChapter 02
The charm in the glass case
The prize was a little brass hare with mismatched eyes. According to its placard, it belonged to a gambler who had won everything except a sensible death. Jen liked the proportions of that claim. She imagined the hare beside her sweets, her reputation acquiring a physical object expensive enough to silence questions.
The wheel used seven colours and a black wedge nobody selected. Jen watched three spins and found the operator’s signal. On the fourth, she placed her bet accordingly. She won. On the fifth, she won again. A crowd gathered. The operator looked distressed with such professional precision that she should have offered him employment. Instead she increased her stake. Every observation she made was accurate; every conclusion was supplied by vanity. The carnival was not hiding its trick. It was showing her the smaller one so she would stop looking for anything larger.
Placeholder artworkChapter 03
A generous opportunity to fall
The final wager required her to stand on a little platform and predict where the wheel would stop. If correct, she received the hare and all her winnings. If wrong, she surrendered the purse. Jen climbed up, shook her sweets, and invited the crowd to witness something educational.
The wheel stopped exactly where she predicted. She bowed. The platform turned over. Beneath it waited a shallow tank of cold syrup and a sign reading SECOND ROUND. The rules, printed behind the glass case, included a second prediction made while suspended above the tank. Jen had not read them. She missed the second colour because she was busy threatening the first operator. The release worked perfectly. Her entry into the syrup produced a noise the crowd would later imitate with varying degrees of affection. Jelly beans floated around her like a small, disappointing fleet.
Placeholder artworkChapter 04
The trick under the trick
Jen surfaced angry enough to become observant again. From the tank she could see the wheel’s underside and the operator’s foot controlling a hidden brake. She could also see the latch on the prize case. It had never been locked. The hare was bait, not treasure; the actual business was persuading winners to become spectacles.
She did not steal the prize. That would have completed the carnival’s story about a sore loser. Instead she pulled the brake cable from beneath the platform. The wheel spun freely for the next customer and paid out a result the operator could not afford. Then it did so again. Jen stood beside the tank, dripping syrup, distributing wet sweets to people who had suddenly become extremely interested in fairness. Her revenge was less elegant than she would later claim. It was also considerably better researched than her first performance. The carnival closed that game before midnight.
Placeholder artworkChapter 05
An unlucky woman with better habits
Jelly Beanz Jen left without the hare, most of her money, or the belief that observation made her untouchable. She retained the name because abandoning it would have allowed the carnival to choose the ending. Besides, the story was too funny to leave entirely in enemy hands.
She became more dangerous after losing. A woman who expects luck to protect her looks for confirmation. A woman who remembers being dipped in syrup looks for hinges. In subsequent Xenoverse adventures, Jen’s charm is less supernatural than social: she makes people underestimate how carefully she is watching.
She still offers sweets to good losers. She also carries a folded copy of every rule she agrees to. The bag rattles just as it did before, but now the sound means something different. Somewhere in the room, a confident person has probably neglected the second round. Jen intends to be dry when they discover it.
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