(Played by Kellie; updated 11/6/2014)
Kellie’s Scion: Beatrix “Trixie” Lockhart, A.K.A Trixie the Magnificent
Bio:She was born in Atlantic City, New Jersey to Debbie and Norman Lockhart. Her mother is a palm reader/psychic on the boardwalk known as “Madame Devorah” and her father was a former stage magician who opened a souvenir/magic shop. Her parents don’t earn much money so for spending cash Trixie would act as a magician’s assistant. The fact that she was double jointed was an added bonus. Even though she was pretty young when she started, 12, she soon realized that her skills were far better than the magicians she worked for. However, letting them be the center of attention often allowed her to pursue a secondary career in petty left. Trixie never took a lot and only from people who could obviously afford it or deserved it in her opinion. She was generous to the less fortunate and had no issues sharing her ill-gotten gains, especially with hungry runaways that hung out at the boardwalk. However, she spent the majority on clothes, make-up, jewelry and Krav Maga classes. The New Jersey boardwalks are not the safest place for a pretty girl to hang out. She had been an OK student in school. She excelled at physical education, particularly gymnastics, but was not very motivated. She could have easily prospered as a model and did the occasional shoot but that lifestyle was too sedate. She craved a bit of thrill. Her larcenous tendencies eventually led her to a serious encounter with some very serious men when she was 21. It was then she met her real father.
Nature: Trickster Calling: Stage Magician/Contortionist/Thief
Virtues: Courage, Endurance, Expression, Loyalty
Wand made of yew tipped with mistletoe that expands to a staff (magic purview)
Tramp stamp of flames (fire purview)
Belly button piercing of 4 aces (illusion purview)
Ring with runes saying “Open Sesame” (psychopomp purview)
Onyx ring (darkness purview)
Ring with the chaos symbol (chaos purview)
Birthright: Guide – Mother is a seer
Purviews: Pyshocomp, magic, illusion, darkness, chaos, fire
Possible Theme Songs:
“I put a Spell on you” by Creedence Clearwater Revival
“Witchcraft” by Frank Sinatra
Hair: Long, wavy, golden blonde
Eyes: Brilliant Green
Weight: 120 lbs (Slender yet curvaceous frame)
Fair skinned but not too pale.
Taps and Trix
The house was packed again tonight. Joey was becoming quite the sensation thanks to her. The Marvelous Marvolo was the hottest magic act in town. Rumor had it that Vegas was sending scouts. Too bad for Joey that she was about to cut him loose. He wasn’t the first magician Trixie had worked with nor would he be the last. It was a shame too as he used to be a nice guy but their recent success was bringing out the worst in him. Or was it revealing him? When she had met him he was Joey Marvolo, a two-bit magician with good looks and a cutting wit. It was his finesse at castigating hecklers that got her attention. With some subtle guidance, Trixie turned him into the magical, comedic genius warming up his voice backstage. However, he was swiftly becoming a hindrance rather than an asset. Trixie adjusted her costume as she joined him on stage. With a slap to her behind he greeted her with a “Hiya, Doll” and a leer. “How’s about a kiss for good luck?” His breath smelled of bourbon and his hand lingered on her backside. “How about you keep your hands and other appendages to yourself,” she replied and shoved him off as she made her way to her into position for the first trick. The stage manager was motioning for Joey to do the same. The show was about to go on. Things went smoothly until about halfway through. During the disappearing body trick Joey started violently throwing up all over the lovely lady from the audience brought on stage to verify his bodiless state. Being just a head at the time he was unable to stifle the flow. Little did Joey know but his usual halftime hit of liquid courage had a little bit extra in it this time. Shortly after the first eruption the curtain went down. Stage hands were busy escorting the crying woman off stage to clean her up as best they could and extricate the still heaving Marvolo from his confines. Trixie glared down at him and said in a furious tone,” Nice going, Jackass! You didn’t just kill the show, you buried it six foot under. How the hell am I going to get another gig with this on my resume?” She stamped her foot in an award winning performance and continued. “They were filming this one! Get some help, Joey. I’m outta here.” Trixie shook her head in mock disgust as she stormed off. She really did hope that he would get some help though. She hit the dressing room and changed into her party clothes. Time to hit the club scene and scare up a bit of cash flow since she is unemployed now. As she made her way through the crowds, Trixie deftly pilfered pockets and purses for cash. That was one thing she loved about the casino and boardwalk visitors, they carried cash. It saved so much time than trying to fence items or hock them at pawn shops. Before entering her club of choice this evening, Trixie deposited most of the funds she had purloined on her way. There was a line out the door but she went straight to the doorman. “Trixi-licious, how you doing, girl?” The beefy security called out with a broad, toothy grin. “Sorry to hear about Joey blowing chunks tonight.” “Well bad news certainly travels fast around these parts.” She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’m good, Tony. I wasn’t in the line of fire. How’s the crowd tonight?” He opened and held the door for her. “Off the hook, as usual. Don’t break too many hearts, now.” Trixie ignored the venomous glances and outcries of the people in line as she sauntered in before them. The volume hit her almost like a wave. The crowd undulated with the beat. She slipped her way easily through the press of bodies. Trixie watched the throng with eagle eyes as they paid for drinks. She would make her way to the vicinities of those flashing cash. As soon as they were distracted, she would deftly relieve them of their bills. Trixie’s silky outfit left little to the imagination but she had ample places to hide a little padding including some large bracelets that she designed herself and a small clutch purse with wrist strap. Trixie was in her groove on the dance floor when she noticed a good looking guy checking her out from a table in the VIPsection. She did not recognize him as a regular nor the other two gentlemen with him. Her admirer was certainly not trying to be unobtrusive about his appraisal of her, judging by his lecherous grin and body language. Trixie couldn’t read lips but his “Oh yeah!” was clear enough. If she had been in any doubt, it was gone when one of his friends tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Nick Mancozzi would like to buy you a drink,” and pointed towards his friend. Nick gave her a wink and lifted a glass to her. He looked like a sheep that could afford a little fleecing by his expensive threads and bling. Why the hell not, she thought and gave him a smile as she allowed herself to be escorted to his table.Nick patted the cushion next to him and then rested his arm across the padded backrest of the booth. Trixie’s eyes never left his as she insinuated herself into the seat. He offered her a glass of champagne and asked, “What’s your name, Sweet Cheeks?” in a heavy New York accent.
Now Trixie was never much of a drinker. Alcohol muddied the reflexes and dulled the wits. She normally only drank juices or sparkling water when she was “on the job”. In fact, most of her frequented establishments were well aware of her preference and her “usual” was cranberry juice and seltzer water with a lemon twist, also called a Trixie Special. However, she accepted the proffered libation, brought it to her lips but did not take a sip. She smiled, place the drink on the table and said, “Let’s just call me Interested, for the time being.”
He licked his lips and grinned. “Ooh, this one likes to play hard to get.” Her would-be suitor then placed a hand on her bare knee. “What other games do you like to play,” Nick asked in a husky voice and very slowly started to move his up her thigh as he leaned in towards her. Trixie placed her hand against his chest to halt his progression.
“Slow your roll there, Romeo. This Juliet doesn’t give it up that easy.”
“I ain’t looking for matrimony, Toots,” he replied pointedly. “I just want a good time while I’m in town. So play nice and join the party. I promise you are going to love it.” The last comment practically dripped with smarminess.
“Ewww,” Trixie replied with a repulsed look. “No thanks.” Her hand was still on his chest and she firmly pushed him back as she rose to her feet. She palmed his hefty money clip at the same time without him noticing and dropped it in her clutch. She was about to leave the table but Nick’s blonde friend stepped in, blocking her exit and leaving her no room to maneuver. “Relax and have a few drinks with us,” he said. It was a command rather than a suggestion, punctuated when he firmly guided her back to Nick’s side. Nick placed a possessive arm over her shoulders and Blondie settled in tight beside her.
Trixie was in a bit of a predicament. She could have dropped him to the floor but she really didn’t want to involve security or worse, the police, when she was in possession of stolen goods. Blondie picked up the champagne and said “Have a drink.” Trixie had a strong suspicion that alcohol was not the only thing in the glass.
She reached out slowly and took the flute lightly in her hand. She held it for a moment and then dumped its contents into Nick’s lap. As he jumped, she immediately brought her fist hard down on Blondie’s groin, knocking the air out of him. Trixie pushed the table over and tried to bolt out of the booth. Though gasping, Blondie reached out and grabbed her. She was just about to kick him hard in the shins when a man approached the table.
He was good sized, fair and wearing a very nice, conservative, black suit. He wore his dark blonde hair shoulder length which she thought was interesting since he also wore an ear piece like a Fed in some movie. He did not smile but his piercing blue eyes were bright and seemed to burn with the intensity of unbridled chaos beneath his calm demeanor. He emanated an authoritative presence that screamed, “Fuck with me, I dare you.” He cleared his throat and drew her assailants’ attention.
“Good evening, Miss,” he began in deep, steady voice that seemed to rise easily above the din without increased volume. “Your father sent me. He is in town for the evening and would like to have dinner with you. The limo is waiting out front if you would care to join me?”
At first he was addressing her but the last sentence he was staring directly into the eyes of Nick and his cronies. Blondie let go of her when the newcomer’s gaze got to him and the other two returned quietly to their seats. This pack of mangy dogs was at least smart enough to sense an alpha wolf in their midst and metaphorically bared their necks to the dominate predator. And though their fur was bristling, Trixie only felt relief and humor. She did not know why but she was not afraid of the wolf and happily allowed him to escort her from the club and into the waiting stretch limousine.
Once they settled into the back Trixie said, “Thank you very much. Your timing was impeccable. If you could drop me off at Caesars Palace, I would appreciate it.”
Her rescuer smiled, “Don’t you want to have dinner with your father?” he asked.
She giggled a bit. “I’ll have dinner with you if you like but just so you know, I’m not shopping for a Sugar Daddy. Don’t get me wrong, you’re good looking and all but you are not my type.”
He laughed. “That is a relief because I really am your father, Beatrix.”
“What?” No one called her by her real name, not even her Mom and Dad. Heck, she even got them to legally change it when she was ten. Now, she knew Dad wasn’t her genetic progenitor. Mom never denied having a relationship with another man and getting knocked up when they were separated briefly. However, she never thought she would meet him and as far as she knew, he had no clue she even existed, let alone knew her real name. Mom never saw him again after their weekend fling.
“You are Logan Johntun?” she asked incredulously.
He nodded. “But that is not my real name,” he replied. “My name is Loki. I am the Norse God of Mischief, among other things.” He winked and suddenly his conservative suit turned into a tuxedo with a burgundy waistcoat and his hair shortened into a business cut.
“Whoah, nice trick,” she said impressed. Trixie was sitting right next to him and he didn’t make move. “How did you do that? I am a bit of magician myself but I have never seen close up magic like that before.”
“That’s because it’s not a trick,” Loki smiled. “It’s real magic.” To reiterate this, he changed into an actual wolf. Trixie screamed and jumped back into the door. She relaxed when the large canine licked her hand and nosed her arm with his cold, wet muzzle. She actually laughed when she ran her fingers through his fur and scratched him behind his ear. The wolf’s tongue lolled out the side of his mouth and his eyes closed with pleasure. After a moment he pulled away and transformed back into the visage she first encountered him in.
“Real magic,” he said. “I can share this power with you and more if you like but there are strings attached. To quote a pop culture icon, with great power comes great responsibility. If you would be willing to use those powers to help stop Ragnarok, I will embrace you as my own and endow you with gifts to aid you in your task. So what do you think,” Loki asked with a grin. “Will you be my scion and try to stop the apocalypse?”
Trixie smiled. “You had me at ‘Real Magic’.”
Current character sheet as of The Icelandic Sagas begin: Chapter Nine: