What Happens in Vegas
"The Amazing Alessandro"
|Mental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 2, Resolve 2|
|Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2|
|Social Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 3, Composure 2|
|Mental Skills: Academics 1, Crafts 2, Occult 1|
|Physical Skills: Athletics 2 (Throwing), Drive 1, Larceny 2 (Sleight of Hand), Stealth 1, Weaponry 1|
|Social Skills: Empathy 2, Expression 2 (Magic Act), Persuasion 2 (Fast-Talking), Socialize 3, Subterfuge 2 (Misdirection)|
|Merits: Fame 1, Fast Reflexes 1, Harvest (Emotions) 1, Mantle (Spring) 1, Resources 2, Striking Looks 2|
|Health: 7 (Size 5)|
|Blessing: Fae Grace (9-Again rule on Expression or Socialize rolls relating to agility, and +1 to Dodge totals). Can spend Glamour to improve Presence, Manipulation, and Persuasion dice pools on a one-for-one basis, and has no untrained penalty for Social Skill rolls.|
|Curse: -1 penalty on dice pools to avoid losing Clarity.|
|Contracts: Fleeting Spring 1, Hearth 2, Vainglory 2|
|Equipment: Various magic trick components, possibly with throwing knives (+1L) or lockpicks (+1)|
Born and raised in Bakersfield, California, Anthony has always been the showman. Perhaps it came from the way his family pushed he and his siblings, or maybe it occurred because he was the last of three children, but he always sought attention. Even better, he was actually good at it. In school, he was always relatively popular, staying out of trouble by charming his teachers and always with a group of friends and lovers. He engaged in drama a little, but since he was quite young, he was always fond of magic. He had a myriad of books on the subjects, and studied the tricks of the greats — Jacob Philadelphia, Herrmann the Great, and of course, Houdini. He also grew up on a steady diet of contemporary magicians, such as David Copperfield, Penn and Teller, and so forth. His friends and family soon became acquainted with his magic act, and he quietly decided that it was the thing he wanted to do with his life. He went to the California Institute of the Arts as part of their School of Theater, and then made his way around L.A. for a little while before trying to move elsewhere to find his fortune. He picked Las Vegas.
He found that the market for magicians — particularly traditional magicians, unlike the edgier stylings of David Blaine or Criss Angel — wasn’t in high demand in Vegas, because Las Vegas is already rife with their numbers. He managed to do the occasional party or get some small gig at a little place away from the Strip, but he largely labored in obscurity. As it would turn out, being captured by the Others was likely the best thing for his career.
He was playing a little club somewhere in the city. He was backstage taking a break when he saw someone in the wings — it wasn’t the stagehands, and the person was dressed in much the same fashion as he. Mildly curious, he went to see who it was, and came face to face with — himself. Despite the physical impossibility of it, there he was, similarly dressed. More confused than anything, he followed himself to the back door, where a woman waited. She was easily the most beautiful creature he had ever seen — a statue crept down from its pedestal, a woman swathed in sumptuous greens and golds, with silver hair and eyes that flashed of fire. He was totally without speech, and when she asked if he wanted to follow her, he could only bring himself to nod. The last clear thing he could recall was following her down a thorny path, and looking back to see himself standing in the doorway, smiling.
Memories are hazy after that. He has pieced together that his skills as an entertainer were required, but beyond that, he doesn’t know. He came to know his mistress — who took the name Tyche, apparently after the Greek goddess of a city’s destiny — quite well, but still never truly knew her. She would offer him a thousand delights, only to find them turn sour and horrible. He would know her body, only to find it too hot or too cold, or both, all at once. He would enjoy the delicate scent of roses, only to be scratched by the thorns. The images hint at a picture, but he cannot piece the whole out of them. He is fairly certain that he one day remembered his old clothes and his old magician’s kit, that he remembered home. He is also fairly certain that such was the day he threw the knife, not at the demented hop-frog of an assistant that Tyche gave to him, but at her — and as she screamed and vines grew between the stones of her palace, he fled as fast as his legs would carry him. He ran for what seemed like hours until he found a door, threw it open, and ran inside to find —
That he was again backstage. The club looked the same, though that was meaningless. He was fairly certain years had passed, but that was when he heard his voice, and peaked between the curtains to see himself onstage, finishing his act for the audience.
He was gone, perhaps, five minutes at most.
Somehow, the sheer absurdity of the situation, mixed with the frustration and rage of his imprisonment, inspired him. He looked at his hand, and saw he was clutching one throwing knife. He smiled, and upstaged himself. As the impostor turned around he laughed, and threw the knife right into the heart of his usurper.
Shocked, the thing looked down at its chest quizzically, then collapsed in a heap. The audience gasped, shocked at the display of blood and a very disheveled magician.
And then the impostor exploded into roses and confetti. Tickertape and puffs of smoke. And a jack-in-the-box in the center of the mess, that went off, playing some gruesome laugh.
The audience went wild. They thought it was all part of the act, and they loved it. Anthony, quite tired and bewildered, took a bow and returned to his dressing room. He was greeted by a girl named Paige who curiously bore writing on her skin and explained things as best she could, though Anthony ultimately just took her phone number and said he would call her when he had some time to calm down.
Within the week, Anthony and Paige met again, this time at the Dodecahedron. She introduced him to the concept of the new society into which he found himself — “changelings” or “Lost,” as they call themselves, claiming to be escapees from the courts of the nightmarish True Fae — and to the Court system. About a week after that, he was invited to a Gathering to meet the fae of the city and to become more accustomed to their ways. He has shown promise in the Spring Court, and seems to have found a place among the changelings of Las Vegas.
Meanwhile, among the clubgoers of Las Vegas, word of mouth spread about the amazing finale to the Amazing Alessandro’s act. He has begun making a comfortable living on the club circuit in Las Vegas, and hopes that this may be the break that will propel him to stardom. Only time will tell how it ends.
In his Mask, Anthony is around six feet tall and quite thin, though more with the lean look of the athlete rather than someone suffering from deprivation. He has short, albeit somewhat shaggy, hair in the sandy blond to brown range. His blue eyes tend to shimmer with mirth and merriment, though they occasionally reveal the haunted look of a paranoid man. He is typically smiling and absently whistling or fiddling with some object or another. He looks to be in his late twenties.
In his mien, he is possibly taller and thinner, with a more ethereal or wispy appearance. His fingers are long and nearly constantly in motion. His hair is a shade lighter, and his skin is more pale, to the point where he nearly shimmers. His ears are tipped and his eyes frequently accented with kohl.
Also, credit where credit is due:
Untitled. (2006, December 20). ModelMayhem. Retrieved March 18, 2008, from http://www.modelmayhem.com/pic.php?pid=1922265