Mephisto's Horrific and Positively Terrifying Phantasmagoria - Character Profile

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ThisIsGonnaHurt

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Edited By ThisIsGonnaHurt

The Devil is in the Details

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  • Name: unknown, presumably "Jack"
  • Alias: Mephisto
  • Also Known As: Mr. Pinstripe Suit, The King of Swing, The Devil, The Jackal of Jazz, Rascal King, The Man in Red Pinstripes, The Dancing Demon, Smiling Jack, Mr. Top Hat, The Man with the Long Shadow
  • Origin: Mutant
  • Age: unknown
  • Place of Birth: somewhere in Louisiana
  • Family: unknown
  • Height: 5' 8"
  • Weight: 135 pounds
  • Hair Color: crimson
  • Eye Color: pale red sclera, bright scarlet pupils
  • Favorite Movie Genres: vintage horror, romance, and detective noir
  • Favorite Music Genres: swing, jazz, blues, Americana, bluegrass
  • Favorite Foods: dirty rice, Creole and Cajun gumbo, pork belly
  • Voice References: Fred Astaire, Gene Wilder, Frank Sinatra

"Let's misbehave!"

Powers:

  • Music Empowerment (enables the rest) and Contract Management

Mephisto's main ability is that of absorbing music by listening to or participating in it and converting the sound or vibrations into a hitherto undefined reservoir of energy. He does not need to necessarily hear it, and just by dancing to a beat he can still collect energy. This can be done with his own body or by using his Shadow as an extension of himself. He can stockpile what he draws from the music, but it cannot be stored for long - usually for only about three hours. Once he sleeps, this reservoir is automatically emptied.

He absorbs this resource by participating in musical avenues that he is proficient in. With this in mind, he is a skilled singer, pianist, trumpeter, and violinist. All music gives him power, but certain types seem to pique his interest and give him more energy depending on his mood. He has a soft spot for vintage genres, opera, and love ballads.

This is paired directly with what he refers to as "contracts". He is capable of binding the rules of an engagement to a piece of parchment that invokes certain stipulations and punishments for breaking them. However, this always requires the opposing party to sign said paperwork. The terms and conditions for these contracts vary wildly, as do the payments he may demand for their completion in his favor.

  • "The Long Shadow"

A classic interpretation of Mephisto's unseen interference in mortal affairs, his Shadow is quite literally alive. It has its own distinct personality and, while completely mute, can communicate effectively through gestures and sign language.

Mephisto is capable of pulling himself and others into his shadow for periods of time defined by how much of his musical energy he possesses. This puts the parties involved into a pocket dimension of complete and utter darkness, one that is bent and shaped to the maniacal whims of Mephisto and his Shadow. Here, reality is an illusion and the only objective fact is that there is no escape unless one of two things happen:

The guest (or guests) to this realm must sign an agreement with Mephisto and play a game in order to escape.

Alternatively, Mephisto could also be forced into exhausting his control over the dark dimension and thus be put on the back foot in terms of a fight. Mephisto is by no means a combatant and actively avoids confrontation should he be presented with a choice. Of course, this is not always the case and sometimes he has to go on the attack. When he does so, his Shadow is capable of changing shape with relative ease. It can flow from a completely fluid state to as dense as a block of reinforced concrete in the blink of an eye, as well as becoming as sharp as a scalpel blade if needed. Its combat prowess is directly linked to how much music Mephisto has absorbed, with its uppermost strength limit being somewhere around the five ton range.

Though, its main component is its spontaneous flexibility in any given situation. When pressured too much, the Shadow will simply take Mephisto into its pocket dimension and retreat at a pace of forty feet per second, or just under thirty miles per hour. This is its maximum speed and it is able to pass through solid surfaces and people, allowing optimal fast travel and infiltration opportunities when needed.

The Shadow itself seems to be susceptible to high concentrations of light and will melt away for a time if focused on in such a way, but doesn't seem to be affected by normal daylight.

  • Cartoon Physics

At a certain point in his music absorption, Mephisto begins to exhibit qualities that seem to break the very laws of nature by pure association. Otherwise called witchcraft or voodoo, this is the main power by which Mephisto is able to terrorize and capitalize on those souls he torments. These are directly associated with how much fun he's having personally in any given confrontation or conversation. While playing his music, he dedicates this entire period of his meteoric rise to (temporary) absolute power to having the time of his life.

He is fully capable of changing the environment in ways that mirror his desires, such as altering the elasticity of solid objects or conjuring items out of thin air. His independent physical abilities are not enhanced at all, but his unpredictability skyrockets exponentially. To the eyes of the casual observer, he takes on the likeness of any of the classic cartoons of a bygone era. Concepts such as gravity, structure, logic, or even pain or death are thrown completely out of the window. As long as he thinks it's funny, Mephisto can do it.

Despite this strange power, there are some serious caveats. For example, he cannot alter inanimate objects that exceed his own power limits. This includes enchanted items, cosmic relics, or anything of an impossible or esoteric nature. He cannot casually change people or beings conscious of their own mortality, implying a limitation on beings with a soul. This means that his antics are completely isolated to himself and whatever he interacts with that isn't at least alive and aware enough to know fear, anger, or love.

Furthermore, he has to have a constant influx of music in order to maintain this harrowing experience and the Big Band responsible can be interrupted or disrupted.

To counteract this, Mephisto has become exceptionally skilled at conjuring elaborate illusions that conceal his main power source. The longer his enemies interact with these hallucinations, however, the easier they are to see through. If the Big Band is completely scattered, it takes a significant deluge of energy to bring them back from his Shadow's pocket dimension.

  • Wish Granting

When the Big Band strikes up a particularly potent chord and Mephisto is allowed to reach the climax of his latest musical number, his power is at its pinnacle. Evil things howl from the corners of creation and crawl out to step in time to the rising crescendo. Unquestionably his most dangerous power, Mephisto is fully capable of granting one wish to someone other than himself. He cannot and will never be able to grant his own wishes.

As anyone who is aware of genies can expect, there are certain rules that he has to abide by:

  1. He cannot kill anyone or bring them back from the dead, though he has played puppeteer to a corpse or two for a good laugh
  2. He cannot alter anything about anyone other than the wisher in question
  3. He cannot create anything that hasn't already existed, and cannot destroy anything that he himself cannot destroy with his bare hands
  4. He usually grants wishes about fame, wealth, or information - but he cannot share information that is impossible for him to know

He doesn't casually give out wishes, but instead offers them as a reward for besting him in various games; one game equals one wish, and The Devil loves a good wager. This is how he has accrued most of the souls shackled to the Big Band, by abusing the natural greed of certain people. Riding high on victory, they placed one bet too many and tumbled all the way back down.

Biography

Mephisto appeared one day in New Orleans, Louisiana. He seemed to pop up out of thin air, performing on the street and earning money with his awe-inspiring talents in magic and trickery.

Appearance

He has brilliant crimson hair that curls in more places than it probably should and is normally placed under a simple hat.

His skin is naturally pallid and cold, almost like a cadaver, and his eyes are two pits showing a complete disconnect from humanity. Their vivid scarlet pupils are painted against the sickly pale red sclera with a fierce and hungry disposition.

Yet for all of this, his devious smile remains the most obvious trait he possesses. The razor-sharp, animalistic fangs are usually locked in an unsettling rictus grin.

Personality and Goal

The King of Swing is, above all other things, cruel beyond measure and sadistic without hesitation. He is also a calculating individual, wanting nothing more than absolute entertainment. He does not desire anything else other than to one day make good on his obsession with Red Haven - the mythical nightclub about which musicians from all over the world tell impossible stories. 666 miles north of New Orleans and 666 miles south of Detroit, it is supposedly where Satan himself crawled out of Hell so that he could freely walk the earth.

Making such a place a reality and acting out an eternal song and dance is the one prize he desires, but cannot grasp... yet.

Other than that, he simply wants to have as good of a time as he possibly can!

The Big Band

Mephisto has a growing entourage of demonic shadows that exists within his own. These are all born of souls that he claimed through trickery or bargains. He is very careful when selecting souls to take, choosing those that are especially talented in one form of music or another.

His wish-granting games are his primary tool for accomplishing this, as the pot slowly sweetens from simple bets to an all-or-nothing wager: three wishes versus an eternal soul. There are more than a few who have come out the other side of these horrifying stipulations for the better, however. Despite this, his collection swells with each new acquisition.

This seems to be the guiding principle behind his supposed limitation on manipulating anything with a soul. That soul has to agree to his extensive (and downright deplorable) terms and conditions before he is able to do anything with it or its host body.

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Gambler

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I f'swit the wish granting powerset

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Ravenna

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Looks like it's villain hour on the Vine >:)

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BeatBoy

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I do not want to mess with you!

Very impressive though

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ThisIsGonnaHurt

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ThisIsGonnaHurt

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ThisIsGonnaHurt

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Just a warning that this will come with regular updates :)

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#8  Edited By X-Rey
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ThisIsGonnaHurt

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Once Upon a Time in New Orleans…

The room didn't so much as twitch with a single musical note. The vibrations from distant brass sections didn't reach out here. Soon, even the laughter subsided. There was a man who sat in the dark, hugging his knees and breathing heavily - but regularly, slowly. He gave a shivering sigh.

The mirror in the bathroom… he had to look. He stood up from the dusty, dingy grime of his surroundings and went down the hall. He took an immediate right and gripped the doorframe.

“Wh-...” he paused, touching his face.

His dark eyes looked back at him, manic but free. He chuckled and approached the reflection. He kept pawing at his own flesh, trying to give his brain reason enough to believe the reality. He gripped his brown hair and let out a baying cackle, howling into the ceiling.

“By God! He's gone! Oh, good Lord in Heaven,” he heaved a sigh of relief.

“Wait,” he scrambled through a nearby drawer, and found a pair of earplugs.

He squeezed them into either side of his head and lowered his face into his arms as he knelt against the sink cabinet.

“Sweet Jesus, thank you,” he mumbled happily.

He peeked out from the bend of his elbow just so he could be sure that this wasn't all a trick. When his gray eyes twinkled back once more, he gave a triumphant expression of his diaphragm.

Immediately, he fumbled for his back pocket, something. The pinstripe suit didn't allow him the luxury of any pleasant memories, so he had to hurry. He found a watch, but he didn't recognize the numbers scratched on the inside of the lid.

When he took the wallet out, there didn't seem to be anything of value inside. A few hotel cards clattered to the floor. The same happened for music hall memberships, restaurant manager business cards, museum VIP identifications…

They all said different names, clashing over and over again. He finally found something of a license, and stared at the glossy surface trying to make sense of what he discovered.

“Jack?” He asked nobody, seeing everything else slashed down to the marrow of the material.

Even the photograph couldn't be salvaged. Was the face looking back at him in the mirror even his? The doubts started to set in.

“I don't remember my name being… Jack,”

He coughed, a sudden chill hanging in the air.

“No, no! Go away!”

Jack tumbled out of the bathroom, knocking over whatever he could to make distance. The cramped conditions of the small apartment he occupied suddenly hummed with a low rumble.

He slammed himself against the front door, but found it locked. The handle simply didn't budge and chains rattled with his efforts to escape. He shoved his body into the grain, trying to rip it apart, but to no avail.

“No, please! No more!”

That's when he noticed the music from the living area window. His stomach dropped when he saw the festival lights.

He immediately ran towards the glass and hit his fist against it, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Hey! Please! No music! Help me!”

The apartment rumbled. Not a single sound left the glass, and his motions were completely wasted. Even the people looking in his direction moved around oblivious of the panicked expression on his face.

To them, he wasn't even there. To them, the curtains were still drawn shut.

Jack sank to the floor and crawled away from the shadows surrounding him, finding solid footing but banging his shin as he ran to the furthest corner away from the street. He tucked himself deep into the closet, burying the earplugs as far as they could go.

Nothing worked.

He could feel his face deform into that sadistic smile despite the tears streaming down his cheeks. His foot started tapping independent of his control.

The laughter came back.