~New Orleans, Louisiana~ (CV22U)

"Laissez les bon temps rouler!"

When babies are first brought home in The Big Easy, no matter if they're born to old money or new residents, the first thing they hear besides their mama's soothing voice is their papa settling into a big chair and putting on some kind of music. At least, that's how most folks figure. There's so much more going on under the deceptively laid-back surface.

New Orleans, Louisiana, is a vibrant kaleidoscope of culture and color that is unlike most other places in the United States. It is as unique a blend of peoples as the greater country it is a part of, though perhaps represents the collective better than any other city. The French initially settled there, back in 1718, before it was ceded to the Spanish in 1763. This was also around the period when Filipinos began to settle there as well, making up some of the earliest populations of Asian Americans. It became an important port city used to smuggle aid to the revolutionaries during the war in 1776, though it was briefly reverted to French rule just before the Louisiana Purchase in 1803.

Throughout its early years, New Orleans had a prominent place in the slave trade. So many were brought in from Africa to provide cheap labor that a law known as Code Noir had to be written in 1724 in order to mass-institutionalize these Africans away from their native religions while also guaranteeing their noticeable lack of legal rights. This created a distinct culture within New Orleans, the wider state of Louisiana, as well as other parts of the southern United States: the Afro-Creoles, who still held to their beliefs from their home borders despite being baptized against their will. The religion most associated with this time period was Voodoo.

Following the Louisiana Purchase, New Orleans became a nexus of growing immigrant interests from the Irish, Germans, Poles, and Italians. Notably, between 1791 and 1810, thousands of St. Dominican refugees from the Haitian Revolution poured into New Orleans. This great migrant wave was made up of both whites and free blacks, a number of which also brought their own slaves who were either directly from Africa or of full-blooded descent. With the revolution also scattering St. Dominicans to Cuba, these were instead turned towards New Orleans as well. For that period of nineteen years, the population of the port city doubled.

Even with this in mind, the scale to which the Crescent City would expand could not be accurately fathomed.

Into the 19th Century, New Orleans would become the largest slave market in the United States. Paradoxically, it was also the home to the largest population of free blacks in the nation who were often well-educated middle-class landowners.

During the American Civil War, New Orleans was occupied by the Union Navy and suffered under a period of starvation. This would only be compounded by Union General Benjamin F. Butler - whom the citizens took to calling "Beast" Butler due to an order he signed that included looting the populace, threatening their women with being prostituted, and the abolishment of the French language from being taught in schools. This, along with pressure from other European immigrants pushing into the city, would put significant strain on the city's earliest influences and eventually lead to the disbanding of the city's last major French newspaper: L'Abeille de la Nouvelle-Orléans. Due to having been captured early in the war, New Orleans was spared the majority of later Union aggressions and its central location in the southern United States proved pivotal to ending the conflict and bringing the legislation of the Emancipation Proclamation to fruition.

Racial tensions would continue to brew in New Orleans for decades just as it would throughout the wider country it became a cultural mirror to. Jim Crow laws would remain in effect from 1889 to 1960, spanning nearly a hundred years of segregation and prejudice that didn't end with just the erasure of a few words on paper. But just as those laws were left behind, New Orleans once more became a beacon of something new and beautiful. It became a center for the Civil Rights movement, its voice being heard across the South louder and clearer than practically any other.

The growing emergence of the Mutant gene has not gone unnoticed. This has spawned both a new kind of hate group and acceptance movement, either side geared towards putting up with a war of words over the consensus of humans, Mutants, and the continued societal evolution of the world around them. It's all just another chapter in the great story the city has left to tell.

New Orleans is a place where the people have struggled just as much as they've gotten rich off the suffering of others. It's a place where the tale of America is plain to see in the faces of the tired, the downtrodden, and the stubborn. For the most part, despite everything that's come their way, the folks down in the Paris of the South don't see life as an excuse to bend down and surrender to the circumstances. They see it as an expression of what it means to be Human, Mutant, or anything in-between.

The world ain't perfect. People ain't perfect. Just do what you can. Play a song or two over the rest, and get on with your living. That's all anybody can pray for, and that's all New Orleans has to do in order to keep the record spinning.

Notable Streets

• St. Charles Avenue
  • At over five miles long and known for its iconic streetcar, it spans two neighborhoods in both downtown and Uptown
  • Its history spans back to the 1830s where it was used to connect Carrollton downriver
  • If you've ever seen a picture of the New Orleans Mardi Gras scene, it was more than likely taken on St. Charles Avenue
• Magazine Street
  • A shopper's paradise, it is six miles of stores, food, and relaxation
  • Even back in the late 1700s and early 1800s, Magazine Street was a bustling hive of commerce
  • If there's something you want, Magazine Street has it
• Royal Street
  • As the name implies, it is a more historically-inclined street with antique shops and museums galore
  • Its lifeblood dates back to the early 18th Century, at the very beginning of the city's existence
  • Despite its reputation as slower than Magazine Street, it is also home to numerous restaurants as well
• Frenchmen Street
  • Once regarded as a hidden gem among locals, it is now internationally recognized as one of the best places for live music
  • The street is allegedly named after five French patriots - or seditionists, depending on your view - who were executed in 1769
  • With the dizzying array of options to explore, it is easy to forget that you don't have to stray far from the music to rest at a comfortable hotel
• Esplanade Avenue
  • It is a quiet and humble place with a calming atmosphere amidst some of the wilder aspects of the city proper
  • Back in the 19th Century, this was an important trade route between Bayou St. John and the Mississippi River
  • Many mansions of the era still stand as part of an old, but handsomely groomed and maintained, "millionaire's row"
• Oak Street
  • This is a hotspot for the college student life in New Orleans as well as local artists, writers, artisans, and musicians
  • In the late 1800s, Oak Street served as the "Main Street" of the greater Carrollton area
  • As of today, it is a functional and thriving network of small shops and independent business
• Canal Street
  • It serves as a place for parading, shopping, and seeing shows at many of the city's restored theaters
  • Canal Street once stood as "neutral ground" between the old French and Spanish families as well as for the newly arrived American families
  • During Mardi Gras, the parade route can be crowded by up to a million people all packed together
• Julia Street
  • Nicknamed "Gallery Row", it is yet another hotspot known for its extensive list of art collections and displays
  • Once a part of the Warehouse District, Julia Street was simply a humble place for storage back in the 19th Century
  • Every first Saturday, galleries open their doors to the public to premiere their new exhibits
• Bourbon Street
  • Noisy, raucous, and nocturnal, this is the quintessential location in New Orleans for many people
  • The history of Bourbon Street is as old as the city itself, dating back to 1718 and named after Rue Bourbon - part of the French elite at the time
  • Among its many landmarks are the Royal Sonesta Hotel and the incomparable Galatoire's Restaurant
• Freret Street
  • Flanked by the Loyola and Tulane universities, this is a popular area to find drinks, food, and live music
  • Though the name existed since the 1800s, Freret Street was completely renovated in 2009 for commercial business
  • Featuring multiple restaurants and bars honored on many Top 50 lists the world over, you can't go wrong with stopping to enjoy the scenery
• Fulton Street
  • Once a nondescript collection of century-old brick warehouses, it was transformed in the 1980s when the New Orleans World's Fair arrived
  • The history of it is much the same as many portions of the Warehouse District, though it didn't come into its own until its revitalization
  • Its defining feature is a pedestrian-only outdoor mall extending for an entire city block, complete with bowling alleys and theaters
• Maple Street
  • A humble location between the Uptown Loyola and Tulane universities, it is another popular destination and forum for local artists
  • While more modernized, it is nevertheless an important piece in the moving clockwork of the city
  • Maple Street is lined with quaint coffee shops, independent restaurants and bars, and possesses its own musical environment
• Oretha Castle Haley Boulevard
  • Named after a New Orleans Civil Rights pioneer, it spans for ten blocks as part of a lively thoroughfare of food, music, and museums
  • Oretha Castle Haley fought for the end to segregation and for equal voting rights, with the street being named after her in 1989
  • The Boulevard offers a dizzying array of authentic award-winning cuisine from multiple areas of the city's past
• Harrison Avenue
  • Nestled between Canal Boulevard and City Park, this street is the focal point of the Lakeview neighborhood
  • As part of the Lakeview community, Harrison Avenue's history spans back to after World War II when families were reunited and grew
  • Along with many other streets, it is known for its extensive list of restaurants, bars, and entertainment
• St. Claude Avenue
  • Stretching from Marigny/Bywater to the Lower Ninth Ward, this street is line with food and drink and features its own unique nightlife
  • St. Claude was once an old street revitalized by a post-Katrina influx of artists and new residents, breathing life once more into its stones
  • Some of the best restaurants in the city are located here amidst humble museums and shops
• Bayou Road
  • This street was formed to bridge the gap between Bayou St. John and the Mississippi River over 300 years ago
  • Historically known as the first road to be laid in New Orleans, Bayou Road has never once stopped innovating
  • Home to a plethora of black-owned businesses, there is nothing but love for any and all visitors here

Landmarks and Locations of Interest

• Congo Square
  • Used by slaves and free blacks throughout the 19th Century as a place of expression, these grounds still hold power for music and Voodoo
• Jackson Square
  • Welcoming over two million visitors for art, photography, and ceremonies, this is one of the premiere backdrops for life in The Big Easy
• St. Louis Cathedral
  • One of the most recognizable features in the French Quarter, it is the mother church of the Archdiocese of New Orleans
• New Orleans City Park
  • Ever since 1854, these 1,300 acres of vibrant greenery have brought in millions to appreciate the natural beauty of the city
• Laura Plantation
  • Home to four generations of a prominent Creole family, both free and enslaved, it yet stands as an intimate historical museum
• Oak Alley Plantation
  • Over 200 years, the property has been many things but now exists as a gallery for its complex past as well as an eerily beautiful estate
• Mardi Gras World
  • Founded in 1947 by Blaine Kern, this is where 80% of the floats used during the world-renowned festival are designed and built
• The Cabildo
  • Having served as the Spanish seat of government, this stands next to the St. Louis Cathedral as a historically significant museum
• Harrah's New Orleans Casino
  • In celebration of the birthplace of the first gambling casino in America, Harrah's opened in 1999 with over 1,500 slots and 130 tables
• Steamboat Natchez
  • This has been a favorite steamboat for over a hundred years, drawing in musical talents from all over the world to ride the Mississippi
• New Orleans African American Museum
  • Located in Treme, the oldest surviving black community in America, it is dedicated to preserving and expressing the city's unique black culture
• The Backstreet Cultural Museum
  • Another hotspot in Treme, this gallery displays the culture of the Mardi Gras Indians and handmade costumes costing upwards of $10,000 each
• Sazerac House
  • Built just a few hundred yards from the original 1850 Sazerac Coffee House, this immersive cafe offers an unforgettable experience
• The Presbytère
  • Once a courthouse designed like the Cabildo and built on the other side of the St. Louis Cathedral, it is now a showcase of Louisianan history
• The Music Box Village
  • Uniquely contemporary, this art sculpture garden showcases local and national musicians at a venue where every house is an instrument
• Le Petit Theatre
  • Established in 1916, "The Little Theatre of the Old Square" anchors the dynamic New Orleans entertainment hotspot scene
• The Orpheum Theatre New Orleans
  • Over a hundred years old, this theatre welcomes anything from world-class performances to weddings and Mardi Gras balls
• Algiers Ferry
  • Having been in operation since 1827, this lazy steamboat functions as one part local commute and one part historical tour
• Paddlewheeler Creole Queen
  • An authentic steamboat featuring a luxury dining experience and live music along the Mississippi River with a day trip to Chalmette Battlefield
• Civic Theatre
  • The oldest and one of the most respected theatres in the city, commissioned by Sam Stone in 1906 as a multipurpose venue
• Southern Food and Beverage Museum
  • A non-profit living history organization dedicated to understanding and celebrating the unique food, drink, and related culture of the South
• Lafayette Square
  • Named as such in 1825, it has been a pilgrimage site for school bands, jazz concerts, and aspiring musicians for over 150 years
• New Orleans Voodoo Musuem
  • Ever since the 1700s, Voodoo has been an integral part of the culture of New Orleans and this location aims to preserve and tell its story
• Voodoo Spiritual Temple
  • Established in 1990, it is the only "formally" recognized temple of its kind with a focus on West African spiritual and herbal healing

The Devil's Haunts

Some say that Lucifer himself walks the streets of New Orleans. He dances, he sings, he performs for the crowds. But his greatest lie has always been convincing the world he doesn't exist. Those who have seen him work know him by the quality of his craft. The Devil is not only alive in New Orleans; he calls it home.

"The Man with the Long Shadow don't stand still for no one."

• The Black Goat Nightclub
  • Every once in a while, when the horns are quiet and the ice in the glasses of its patrons settles, this bar is host to a mysterious performer

• The Bad Beat Casino
  • The Devil loves himself a good game, and there's no better place to roll dice than the luxurious riverside venue where chips crackle like embers
• Cloven Hoof Square
  • Named for a large goat sacrifice in the 1700s, it has become synonymous with sightings of The Man in Red Pinstripes as he dances through

Other Such Businesses

• The Ivory Keys Hotel
  • Famous for its collection of pianos, the centerpiece of which is rumored to be haunted, the hotel itself is luxurious if a tad unsettling at night
• The Forked Tongue Nightclub
  • Themed in celebration of The King of Swing, this nightclub offers an unforgettable and downright heretical midnight experience
• The Drowned Sturgeon Bar
  • The riverside dregs of society seem to flock to this place as if lured there by the constant slurred, rhythmic singing and drunken revelry
• The Thirsty Gator
  • A humble restaurant near the French Quarter, it's a family-owned business that focuses on homecooked meals at an affordable price

OOC Information:

Ayo, my home where I was born.

[Also nice work]

Sooo good

Very impressive. I love a fictional city but I can appreciate attention to details of an established locale as well. Good job.

@elliot_knox: @ravenna: @x-rey:

Thank you, all of you :)

This is going to take a while to compile all of the necessary information, there's... SO MUCH to tell about the city and I haven't even gotten to Mephisto's own little hangout spots

This 'Sounds' like a nice town to visit.

@beatboy:

I'd be surprised if you didn't ;)

@gambler:

rlly cool

@agent-k:

Thank you :)

In light of recent events at the paradoxically divine Hellfire Academy, tensions were high among the student body and the staff responsible for caring for and protecting them. All things considered, something as mind-numbingly mundane as a mail delivery shouldn't have included anything as curious as this. However, there are forces that infiltrate into everyday life through the simplest means

A certain letter would find its way into the stack addressed to the estate. Specifically, it was meant for the headmistress. It made itself inconspicuous enough, having been sent from New Orleans. Its contents were simple: a piece of paper with the message written for the intended recipient, and a business card.

The parchment itself was dense, more antique than modern convention. It had handwritten fountain pen lettering with a precise, expert measurement and positioning. From how the ink flowed from one word to the next, it couldn't have been inscribed with anything less than a luxury instrument for the task.

Dearest proprietor of the estate,

First and foremost, my name is Mephisto and I hope this letter finds you well. I visited your property without permission, and for that I do apologize.

I am certain that you have security camera footage of my personage infiltrating the grounds and wandering about in an aimless fashion. While I cannot deny any of this, I am able to say that I had no intention of defiling the property or endangering its inhabitants. I am also certain that you have security camera footage of the altercation I had with a certain elephantine giant within the boundaries of your front garden.

I trust that not a single splinter of marble has been misplaced? I did my utmost in maintaining the staggering beauty of your property, despite my intrusion.

Alongside this letter, you will find one of my cards. Should you wish, you can simply tear it in half and forget any of this happened. But I hope that you instead humor this offer.

I am a Mutant, but I am also a historian and practitioner of music. Therefore, I write this in eager anticipation of applying for any potential opening in your academy regarding my passion for song and dance.

If not, then I understand. My invitation to talk all hinges on what you do with my business card. Be advised, there is a minor magical enchantment upon it - but it is a simple transportation spell. It is a round trip to New Orleans, useful for any time and any place. Anything you touch will be taken with you.

Of course, I do not mind if you use it expressly for vacation purposes either. The instructions on the card itself are what you need to follow if you want to bring this transaction to life.

Until then, I wish you well.

Sincerely,

Mephisto

In direct opposition to the palette of the letter, the card itself peeked out from the envelope. It was ashen black, as if scorched by raw magma, with the pattern only broken by robust gold embroidery.

The only text on the card that stood out from the handsome, almost royal, lettering bled onto the canvas, striking a bold and unsettling contrast with its fleshy red.

It practically glowed around the name unusual name, drawing the eyes like a neon sign.

Need something you can't find?

Need someone to torch the place?

Hold onto this card and say his name three times:

Mephisto, Mephisto... you get the idea!

---

Meanwhile...

---

A modest cup of tea clicked down on its associated saucer, its handle controlled by a man in a red pinstripe suit. He leaned back into his seat, snapping the newspaper in place so he could read the latest headlines. His eerily permanent smile crackled wider as he peered across the various happenings in the local scriptures.

"Well, would you look at that? A new play is coming to town. The leading actress is quite the looker, too," he chuckled, sipping more of his tea.

The bistro around him buzzed with activity as per usual, but cautious glances were thrown his way every now and again.

"She'd best be careful in a town like this,"

Tough to follow lol. Great post

@thisisgonnahurt:

@thisisgonnahurt

@adela_roth:

Mephisto finished his beverage and left his waitress a good amount of money along with what he needed for the bill. He felt a slight twinge in the air, disrupting the otherwise uninterrupted channel of music flowing over the city like a melodic river. He gave a noticeable grimace at the bitter tone, finding his name to be invoked but being unable to actually go anywhere.

He stood in place for a split second as the magic and other associated forces worked out the kinks and found a solution, one he would have to quietly meditate upon as he went about his daily business.

As usual in a metropolis dedicated to his preferred art style, Mephisto's power reached a certain plateau. He had his hair smoothed back and with its bold crimson coloration, two black horns breaking the few errant red bangs crowning his brow.

He turned the corner to leave the establishment and immediately caught sight of what, or more accurately who, sent a chill up and down his spine. Regardless of whether or not he knew, the surprise still caused him to visibly flinch.

“Oh good heavens, where did you come from?”

Needless to say, her appearance put her heads and shoulders above the normal everyday rabble. Her selection of designer clothing might have stifled her natural beauty under the weight of labels and accumulated cost, but Mephisto never considered himself an expert in such a field in the first place and decided to discard any lingering thoughts about it.

Elements of the physical plane did not give him pause or alarm to begin with. Being punched, torn apart, or otherwise did hurt and required suitable time and energy to recover from. But those mysterious forces rubbing shoulders with his own were the ones to put ice in his veins. Sometimes, even momentarily, he feared losing his carefully cultivated powers at such intervals.

“Hello there. I am Mephisto,” he corrected himself with a courteous wave.

“You must have been the one to read my letter. In which case, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he extended his hand for a polite shake, no strings attached.

His permanent grin, while somewhat unsettling and definitely - unfortunately - reminiscent of certain altercations, steadily evolved into something more charming and less immediately hostile. He wasn't here to orchestrate a normal deal, after all.

"Of course, I'd be insulting the entire city if I didn't ask for your name. May I have the pleasure?" He would part from their small embrace and twirl his wrist around to give her a view of his open palm before curling his fingers back into a loose fist.

im new to rpg,so why is everybody writing stuff like:"he finished his bevarage so on...

Sorry for the delay in responding to you, but that's usually how RP works here :)

We describe how our characters are involving themselves with the setting and reacting to other characters while integrating what they're doing so that other people can react accordingly

It's a mesh of details :)

thanks much needed

@eman-11711:

If you want, feel free to post something here or in Midnight City and I'll respond :)

"You're tuned into 66.6 - Hellfire and Brimstone - hello and welcome, all you sinners!

My name is Mephistopheles... but please, call me Mephisto.

I know you're here for the greatest hits from the past century of jazz, swing, blues, and everything in-between!

So sit back, turn up the volume, and enjoy."

Mephisto cradled himself into the headrest of the chair he claimed, his feet planted firmly enough on the floor so that he could swivel slightly left and right. He wanted to spin around, but there were so many wires around that it dissuaded him from such tomfoolery. He wiggled his cane instead, grinding a flat spot into the carpet. He often had little to do in these gaps between his broadcasts. The music ranged from every conceivable category having to do with selling your soul for talent. He loved listening to the characteristic anthems. No matter the genre, he had his diabolical fingers clasped around its throat.

No one wanted to be a stick in the mud, after all.

His smile twisted wide. The opening chorus faded into a bridge, leading to the next in an inevitable fashion, but there was distance yet to close. His heel instinctively tapped along with the beat. A distinct, depressed saxophone screamed somewhere in the undertone. Each and every artist bled for this. They would never want or worry... but only at the cost of a thousand sleepless nights. Madness festered just under the surface.

Some turned to drugs to numb the pain of this new hyper-consciousness, the awareness of an insatiable and greedy world rotting within their beloved medium. Before their hands could pull away from the veil, they were dragged inside. Only a few would be able to escape. Mephisto played this game with all the subtle skill of a poison worming its way through open arteries - straight to the heart, twisting it slowly over the years.

He stared at the ceiling of his small studio, one of many temporary solutions while he hunted for a way to make his beloved Red Haven a reality. With a slight twitch, his malignant gaze turned towards the open door. The noise and lights of New Orleans attracted him like a moth to open flame. How many listeners did he actually have, this late at night? Surely... they would appreciate live entertainment instead. The Devil fancied himself as a showman most of all.

He flicked the broadcast signal off without looking away from the city's skyline. Without pausing, he stood up and faded away into a hardly noticeable shadow.

Cloven Hoof Square

The trees shuddered with a sudden gust of wind out of a dead midnight. As soon as it blew across the stonework standing in the plaza, the air became eerily still once more. Statues dedicated to the intrigue of the goat sacrifice stared coldly into an unknowable abyss. People always asked what the architects imagined they saw. Some whispered that the stone men and women were made with their heads bowed on purpose.

The Devil pranced his way through, mimicking the crescendo of whatever song he heard from the hysterical collage of sound parading into his ears and shooting from his toes to his chest. Each pulsing bass tone thrummed like thunder in his blood. They teased him forward, pulling him along to a song of his own creation amidst the cacophony. He smiled, thrashing this way and that, dancing to the pulse of a city that built itself on misery and jubilee.

Unlike the bodies in the swamp, it kept floating despite the pain. Mephisto kept smiling, kept dancing, his untethered source of entertainment ever being the souls he entranced and took with him from one end to the other. The Big Band was always looking for new members.

Without warning, he stopped. A small crowd had gathered, holding cameras in an attempt to capture something they didn't understand on film. Some were locals, folks who obviously knew the end to this story and quietly sat under the street lamps keeping The Devil's Soapbox illuminated. Others belonged to major news networks in the area shooting stories for local history.

"Welcome, all you sinners!" Mephisto chirped.

He hooked his thumbs under his coat and into his suspenders, giving them a satisfying pop. His head bobbed from side to side, his blonde bangs swaying just under the brim of his white hat. He stared directly into each and every lens pointed his way, one after another.

"My name is Mephisto - the voice of 66.6 Hellfire and Brimstone! Tonight, I'm feeling a bit daring so I'll be playing at The Bad Beat Casino all night. You heard me! Come test your luck, any game is fair game!"

He took off his hat and bowed his head, replacing it on his crown of straw-colored curls. Except, when he looked back up to gaze upon his captive audience he simply vanished - his body retracting into his headwear until it, too, disappeared with a 'poof' and a cloud of red confetti.

(Open for anyone)

@major_blackstar

'That's me.'

'Yep - once you get past all the bandages and scrapes and bruises on that wonderful face, and you focus on those deep green eyes lies the body of a goddess. A real knockout. A ten of ten, head turner. Not the superficial ones that open an Onlyfans account, but a real winner.

"Katherine McC....just call me Kat for short."

'You may be wondering how I got myself into this mess. Well...that's in itself is long story. It started off in Seattle - or was it Gothic City - maybe it was that time in Venezuela. It's all a blur now a days. Maybe it was the blows to the head. Maybe it was a drink too many. Or maybe it was just bad luck, but either way, I found myself locked up in New Orleans.

'If you knew me, you would know that I'm not the sort of gal that finds herself on the wrong side of the law. That would be uncivilized for someone like me. I am an entrepreneur. A go getter. A bottom line type of gal - okay...I'm getting long winded here. What really happened was that I met someone somewhere and they offered me a bunch of money to find this treasure. They said it was in New Orleans. They said to start in police station 13. Now me being not a government agent with credentials, I needed a way to get into the police station and search it with out raising suspicion - some real Mission Impossible type stuff. I made a call or two and this was the only way I thought made sense - all these charges are a misdemeanor, right?'

'The police didn't take kindly to my out-of-town beauty causing a ruckus. They said some other things, but searching the county jail was more on my mind then the charges. The guy that paid the money made it very clear. Find the item in New Orleans starting at precinct 13. It is going just as I planned. That is the good news. The bad news is I hadn't thought of a way to get out. I could, but then it would reveal who I am and why I was paid all this money to find this item and...and this radio DJ really sucks. What type of radio do they play in the Big Easy?'

@thisisgonnahurt ^

@pretty_kitty_:

There were times when the quality of gamblers attending any given casino in New Orleans just didn't seem to cut the mustard. Tonight, hands were folded and dice were pulled back away from tables at a record pace. Mephisto rattled his fingers, drumming in a consecutive line over and over again. He barely spent thirty minutes at the Bad Beat, and already no one wanted to play with him seriously. There wasn't any thrill in taking minor bets and wagers. He considered it pocket change compared to what he really wanted.

He sighed as the crowd remained thick and heavy around him. Some wanted autographs, others wanted to take pictures. But he chose to leave in a puff of smoke. Regardless of the fortitude of the normal populace, he sometimes struck gold by pacing the prisons of New Orleans and offering freedom as the prize for his nonsensical games.

Most knew not to trust him. Here, at Precinct 13, he merely chose it as the first to investigate because of the number. He considered it lucky, unlike most folks.

He strolled along the jail cells, finding nothing of interest... except for one. He stopped twirling his cane and tilted his head curiously.

She definitely had the face that caused trouble. Something besides her looks caught his attention, though. She obviously didn't belong, but he decided to ignore the elephant in the room... or rather the cat.

"Why hello there," he twisted on his heels, puffing out his chest in the manner of a showman about to open the curtain.

"Are you lost?"

His hand spun the cane around and snapped it into place as he clicked the tip of it against the cold concrete. The Devil wore his usual casual attire, that being a brilliant white suit and black boots. He had no hat to speak of, meaning that his horns were on full display as they poked through his curly blonde hair.

"You look like you could use a hand,"

@thisisgonnahurt:

"Nope! I got two of them." Kat would raise a curious glance toward the voice, the owner's horns causing a brief delay and then a smirk. "...Oh, you people in the Big Easy really do put the freak into freaky. You promoting something new from Kentucky Fried Chicken with that Colonel Sanders outfit. Spicy, spicy hot."

Kat would laugh thinking the pun was funny. What wasn't was the time she was wasting in lockup or the fact that she had not gotten any closer to collecting on her offer for flying south. She had discovered nothing even though the instructions clearly stated she would know it when she saw it.

Her disenchantment continued at her visitor much like a lady just wanting to get a drink with little interest of the other patrons at such an establishment trying to start conversation. "You the county prosecutor? Chief of police? The mayor?" Her eyes widened with the force of the morning sun. "Are you my lawyer? As stated in my statement, I told that man that I dont flash for no dang beads. I could use a cigarette though. Maybe some tylenol too. I'm just here on business. I just need to get out of here," she would say in a whisper and an exagerrated wink.

"I am rambling as usual. My momma always said I did. She would say I would go on and on- God bless her soul. Got me in trouble too many of times in school. I still have the progress reports to proove it." Kat could herself and stopped the ramble as she smirked at the horned visitor.

"Where are my manners," she said as she extended her hand. My name is Kat and who might you be? You frequent these parts often?"

@pretty_kitty_:

Mephisto let go of his cane, leaving it standing straight up, and kept track of her ornate tapestry of words with a notepad he conjured out of thin air along with a fountain pen. A pair of glasses floated down from the smoke and settled on his nose as he jotted down all of the interesting details she told him, one by one.

"Your name is Kat, you need to sample some better fried chicken, and your mother was very observant," he chuckled, placing a period on the latest sentence he managed to summarize from her string of commentary.

The pen, paper, and glasses vanished just as mysteriously as they appeared in a flash of red light - almost like fire, but without heat. He leaned on his cane again and it snapped out of the spell keeping it aloft. He extended his hand, shaking hers. It would have been a death sentence for most others, but he hadn't made a deal yet. This was merely a courteous greeting.

"A pleasure, my dear! I am known as Mephisto. As far as being your lawyer..." he pulled back from their embrace, rolling his fingers.

"I'm more of your magical wish-granting genie! A fairy godfather, if you will,"

He kicked his cane up into the air and pulled out his sleeve to catch it. Without warning, it disappeared somewhere in the confines of his suit yet he moved around like nothing happened. Mephisto cradled his fingers together and tapped them patiently.

"But! I don't grant wishes for free. You have to beat me in a game - one win equals one wish! Since you're a guest in my humble city, I'll let you choose the first game. Might I suggest rock, paper, scissors?"

@x-rey:

Some could argue that the cultural backbone of the southern United States did not rely on metropolitan growth, but instead subsisted entirely on centers of spiritual freedom and evolution. This could not be better exemplified than with New Orleans. Under the skin of every chapel, mosque, and synagogue was a muffled heartbeat of the deeper roots that built the city. Spirits, both evil and benevolent, stalked the streets - especially at night - and none were as well-known as the one that blended the various aspects of the human imagination.

Some called him The Devil, others avoided his stomping grounds like the plague for fear of Mr. Pinstripe Suit. He merely addressed himself as Mephisto, the one responsible for the greatest radio show under the Earth.

He usually had somewhere to go, someplace to be, but tonight he seemed to be interested in settling into the background, finding places here and there to investigate talent he intended on bringing into the Big Band. Of course, when someone spotted him, he would disappear into the shadows like he was never there to begin with. Eventually, his path led him into the mysterious cloisters of the black sabbath. Witchcraft always made itself prevalent in the city, in one form or another. The howling phantoms of generations past were ever-restless, and easy to manipulate given the right circumstances.

This particular section of town never ceased to entertain him. Sure, there were tourist traps, but the dedicated and the righteous practitioners were handsomely rewarded in their own ways. He walked the streets, inviting himself into various shops and dark corner stores.

There was a certain inevitability in the air. All he had to do was capitalize on it.