will you enter?

niccolò paganini

a composer from Italy. some say he sold his soul to the devil— or, the Devils. sometimes he plays into this myth, pulling magic tricks and spectacles that can only be explained by some otherworldly force. but he is a composer— magic tricks are still tricks, after all. and when questioned by the Foundation, of course he is a man with a perfectly clean record.

mischievous red eyes and wild black curls climbing down his back, sometimes almost reaching up and looking like horns. spindly hands that crawl across the entirety of his violin’s neck. stubble on his face and a dangerously charming grin. his devilishly handsome looks, as well as his rumored devil contract, make for quite the show, as he dances his way across virtuosic passages, around the stage, and into the audience’s hearts.

his fighting style is flashy, and some might say it’s unnecessarily dangerous and reckless. (“are you not bringing a knife to a gun fight?” “it’s a sword, mind you!”) an inscription on his bow allows him to physically attack magical critters, as well as slash through spells. and no matter how sensible these claims may seem, they are never backed up by any sort of evidence: Paganini has never lost a battle. a twisted kind of tango turns the battlefield into a stage, and of course, Paganini is always ever the entertainer. rushing forward with one step, and attacking with the next. whirling around and taking a dive, parrying and turning back. a deep bow for the watchers.

“humble” is something only Paganini would describe himself as. never doubting his own ability, he always sees himself as someone who can accomplish anything, and sees to it that others watch him carry out these feats. call it pride or self-worth, though as much as he pushes himself up, he never pushes others down. in fact, he celebrates their accomplishments almost as much as his own, and is always the one to host a celebrational party.

there does seem to be a fatal flaw in this virtuoso’s skillset: card games, board games, slot machines, gambling, all of it. even with all of the glory he obtains, he can never seem to hold onto any of the money that comes with it. an “all or nothing!” mindset is especially dangerous when the outcome is always the latter.

bow

he doesn’t speak of where he truly got it from, making up a new story each time. a strong enchantment is cast upon it, making it capable of combating magical creatures like a sword. with this he plays his melodies, a virtuosic show in the glory of an audience. with this he dances in battles, a deadly waltz that leaves only him victorious.

playing cards

a standard deck of cards. light glyphs are inscribed on the back of all 54. when spread out in an arc on the stage floor, they provide him the deserved spotlight for his impromptu performances.

“what? impossible, again! i refuse to lose to you! this time, double or nothing!”

“…he doesn’t realize the writing on the back is different for each card, does he?”

moses fantasy

beyond this curtain, hundreds of strangers are waiting to watch your every move. harsh lights will blind you like the sun and the flames of hell close in on you. they’ll praise and adore the most subtle displays of talent and scrutinize even the smallest of mistakes. but you’ll pass error off as intentional improvisation. now step out from beyond the curtain. it’s showtime!

god save the king

a locked door. a single candle. an oath sealed with blood.

he’s writing again. a journal breaking the laws of both worlds.

a journal that would end his life if found. but he’s still writing.

and he hints at this journal, might he add, with a smile on his face to the authorities he’s hiding it from and the people that accuse him.

a gambit with high risk and only one reward. but its worth it for the thrill.

le streghe

They say you’ve made deals with the devil. Are these allegations true?
Haha, who knows?
Please don’t wink at me.
Isn’t it quite a shame? They assume I could not possibly be talented enough to legitimately have such virtuosic skills and abilities. They would rather believe its something supernatural, something I had put no effort into, selling my life away to the devil rather than a lifetime of practice…
It must be quite frustrating.
...but playing this character seems to be what the crowd adores, and so I adore it as well.
Adoration? What does it mean to you? Is it your motivation?
Not admiration itself, my friend, but the thrill of it! The thrill of throwing yourself in front of a crowd, the thrill of throwing your soul into the spotlight, the thrill of throwing all your cards down on a table to risk it all, all eyes on you… you should try it!
I’m not sure my heart could take it.