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Trephan Bethlem

"I'm writing an article for the Sprite, Troll and Fairy Union. Aren't you excited for me?"

1 · 169 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by AugmentationAudit

Description

In Prehistoric times, it was thought that mental illness was caused by magical beings playing tricks with the mind...

A changeling, fae kind, and typically taking the form of a young to middle aged man with brown hair, brown eyes and a clean shaven face: his body of the century.
Physically, he can change his form to a limited extent, but to remain in one shape for an extended period of time requires stealing that form from its rightful owner rather than simply emulating it using his ability to shape-shift. If he is capable of changing into anything other than the form of a living thing, then that ability has never manifested or been tried.
He takes a body from birth, replacing a very young infant with himself and leaving the original child (trapped in an 'ugly' constructed form) elsewhere; exactly what he does with these children is unknown, as Trephan never discloses such information.
Trephan, on occasion, can be seen to have wings, and he certainly is aware of them even when they cannot be seen. He has a deep love of music and a hatred of manipulation when it's not being orchestrated by him.

Personality

Mischievous to a fault, Trephan possesses what might be called a malicious sense of humour, and is often faintly sexual in his thought process which is referenced in his speech in the form of innuendo more often than not. To a woman, specifically a woman that he has some form of interest in, he appears to be a gentleman, and is generally rather polite when he wants something.
As a general rule, men and older people of both genders bear the brunt of his bad behaviour, which tends to be more mocking than actively aggressive. He has not been known to raise a hand to a mortal with the intent to wound or kill, though occasionally he will preform some trick that results in discomfort. He tends not to be interested in causing physical pain unless he is attempting to impress someone who values that characteristic.
Mental anguish and its manufacture in mortals is his speciality, though that particular skill is something that has fallen into disrepair in him over the years; he hasn't exercised his powers in mental manipulation and inducing insanity for centuries, and as such he is very much out of practice.
He is a very vain man, and loathes the idea of being what he classes an unattractive; the bodies he chooses always fit a certain profile in terms of looks, and he judges a child carefully before replacing it.
He is devoted when it comes to his idea of family, and is more than willing to go to great lengths for the sake of successful reproduction with his chosen spouse. He can become obsessive when it comes to relationships, but he rarely falls in love, and only ever with his own kind as far as he is aware so far.

To say that Trephan is vain, narcissistic and arrogant is an understatement, and his feelings of self-importance are monumental.

Equipment

He carries nothing save for a simple wooden flute, being able to magic up anything that he might need. He uses nothing in the way of weaponry, being a generally non-combative creature. Most of the items he creates are not what they appear to be; their face value often more impressive than their actual capabilities.

History

It is said that if you do not keep constant watch over your child, that if you forget the charms and wards to keep the fairyfolk away, then you might wake in the morning to find a changeling has come and replaced the babe you left to sleep.

Over several hundred years he has taken on many forms, one of which he declared as ugly and he has sworn to never inhabit an unattractive body again.

So begins...

Trephan Bethlem's Story

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Trephan Bethlem wandered into the room feeling fantastically attractive in his face of the century, which was improving wonderfully with age. Ah, he was like a fine wine, really; he aged majestically and increased in value with each moment he graced the world with his presence. Unlike some people... Trephan cast an eye towards the others in the room. They, unlike his powerful, magical and down right amazing self, aged like cream cheese. A smile graced his self-proclaimed perfect face; cream cheese that had been left out in the sun, looking at some of the faces he was suffering through viewing.

Spectacularly arrogant as ever, and loving every second of it, Trephan arranged himself artfully against the nearest clean counter, hooded his eyes in a manner that suggested mild boredom, and prepared to wait for something fun to happen.

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Trephan Bethlem did indeed have laces on his perfectly shiny, new looking shoes, and he was also quite aware that some small, ignorant and hideously ugly creature was well on the way towards untying them. It was rather amusing and so Trephan allowed her to think that she was winning, despite knowing full well that he would be throwing his shoes in the nearest bin once she had finished with them. There was no way on this earth that he was going to walk around in shoes that some cretin that salivated over.

Rather than drawing attention to the fact that he was vastly more intelligent than this pitiful excuse for a child, Trephan quietly ordered himself a very fine white wine and awaited its arrival with deceptive patience.

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Trephan Bethlem smiled a little to himself as he took a delicate sip from his glass (the finest crystal, of course; Trephan wouldn't settle for anything less). This ugly little creature clearly thought that it was being sly, and that in itself was rather satisfying; it stroked Trephan's sense of self-importance to no end, which was probably why he allowed it to knot his laces together. Not that he had any intentions of falling over his own feet, however, but the little creature would hardly be able to tell that.

He smiled, keeping his feet quite still, and prepared to test his little hanger-on's patience.

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Trephan Bethlem took another slow, very deliberate sip of his drink and set his glass daintily on the counter before looking down with an expression of polite interest on his attractive face. He blinked (also deliberately) as if he were rather confused as to what was going on, giving the impression that he had only just noticed what was going on.

"Um, excuse me," he murmured, tilting his head just so as he looked down at the creature (that was defiling his person! Get it off get it off get it off!) with something close to puzzlement. "Is there something that you needed down there? A napkin, perhaps?"

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Trephan Bethlem smiled quite politely as he leaned down, his eyes a glittering, unearthly brown as he whispered so quietly that only she would hear. "Is that so, little trixter? An earring? Well, perhaps I should help you look for it. Then again, where would be the point in wasting my time, oh child who does not have pierced ears?" The chuckle that bubbled in his chest was just a little bit unearthly too; an enticing trill of sound: follow me.

"Hmm, if you were a clever little thing, you'd run along and play your games on somebody else, because it's rather silly to pick on the bigger boys, don't you think?" Not once did his voice rise, or become anything but soft and lilting. "Especially when those boys are far better at this game that you are."

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Trephan Bethlem very nearly laughed out loud at the petulantly childish reaction that he had managed to produce from his little would-be attacker, but as it was he had an image to maintain, and that was something far more important that extroverted displays of mirth. That, and laughter gave him lines which he could not be bothered to go to the trouble of removing; it was easier to remain neutral faced until something truly worthy of maniacal laughter arose.

He did spare the girl a mocking little smirk though, because really, she deserved it. He also toed off his shoes, kicked them disgustedly aside one by one, and conjured himself a new pair while nobody was looking.

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Trephan Bethlem sauntered into the room and with the fresh spring behind him there was a strange hazing of the air over his shoulders that was probably just the heat. He was smiling, because he really was so very much better than the little creatures that chose to inhabit this backwater scum-tank. Some places had no class, but on occasion it was profitable to fish for mischief in them; it just required a decent supply of clean shoes and a strong stomach.

With a breathy sigh, Trephan noticed that at least two of the bar's inhabitants seemed to have been there all night long, which was more than a little distasteful to say the least... but like he had said so many times before: some people had no class. He leaned up against the counter and proceeded to wait for something interesting to happen.

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Trephan Bethlem wandered into the abandoned bar with a sultry smile and his nose elevated to a level just high enough to suggest that yes, he was better than anyone who might be lurking under the tables like a dog, and yes, he did know it. Looking around the room for said table-lurkers would be a waste of his valuable time, so instead Trephan headed straight for the bar counter and ordered himself a drink.

When his beverage was delivered (the robot was an idiot, the glass- hardly crystal) he took a dainty sip and reclined with practiced ease, waiting for something to happen.

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Trephan Bethlem came to the conclusion that he was alone and as such, could lay claim to the room that he was the soul occupant of. He grinned, and picked himself a nice little spot on the bar counter where he proceeded to sit, legs stretched out, crossed at the ankle so that his nicely shined shoes caught the light from one of the hanging lamps. He was gorgeous.

It didn't take long for him to arrange his body into something artfully casual.

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Trephan Bethlem slowly turned his head as he noted the invasion of his privacy; did that man not realise that people were supposed to pay rent when entering Trephan's domain? ...and he was ugly. He needed to pay a penalty for his truly appalling fashion sense, let alone his face. But clearly he was too ignorant to realise how things worked around here...

Trephan swung his legs down in a single, graceful sweep and stood with little but a rustle of expensive clothing. The grin on his face was perfectly charming, magically influenced, of course. "Hello there," he murmured in a voice that was deliberately soft and inviting; he was just a waiter, his voice said. "Can I get you anything?"

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Trephan Bethlem looked pointedly at the robot tenders over his shoulder as if to say 'do you not see them already doing that for her?' before fixing the man with a look of distaste. How dare he speak to a polite stranger in such a rude manner... how dare he speak to Trephan in such a manner! Oh, some people had no idea what the words 'proper respect' meant when used together. He sighed. Pointedly.

"Already taken care of," Trephan's voice was lower, displeased. He turned away; clearly these two were too busy not talking to each other to engage in normal conversation. The UST was drowning him. Disgusting. However... he looked at the woman, then the man, and shook his head; it was hardly going to end well even if they pandered to it, because the both of them had enough issues to fund a mental hospital for years.

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Trephan Bethlem wandered into the room (precisely, and in a manner that he knew full well would show off his smooth, even gait), leaving the door open for an extended moment so that he could be silhouetted in streaming sunlight and shadow. Gorgeous; he knew that he must look gorgeous, and that was his intention even if there was little to nobody in the room. It hardly mattered, as there would never be another creature as beautiful as he was. For long, a wickedly smirking part of his arrogantly narcissistic mind confirmed.

Once he had lingered, the picture of arrested movement, for just long enough to make it look natural, he swept over to the bar counter and artfully rested an elbow on the top. He smiled, all charm and even teeth, waiting for someone to come and serve him.

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Trephan Bethlem turned carefully to view the person that had spoke, even though he had been watching her from the corner of his eye the entire time. He had seen her fix her hair, make her apron hang just so; she was obviously attracted to him and really he could hardly blame him; he was stunning, after all. Sadly, she was rather plain, but that was hardly surprising given that she was standing in Trephan's shadow, and so he decided to be charitable and spare the poor, unattractive creature one of his most glorious smiles.

"Oh, I most certainly would," he murmured, making his voice as soft and attractive as possible. Like chocolate, melted, dark, his mind supplied, and he spared a little of his will to extend that image to her in the most basest sense; if she was receptive enough she would liken his voice to dark melted chocolate, if not, then she was hardly worth his time. "I would like a nice wine, red if possible, though I will take rosé at a stretch."

He noted the new woman enter without turning to look, but he would most certainly keep her in mind. She looked interesting (as interesting as any of these people could me, mediocre as they were), and would possibly serve as entertainment when the girl behind the bar became boring.

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Trephan Bethlem did not appreciate some frankly disgusting and no doubt greasy bar-wench rolling her dead looking fish eyes at him, although he didn't deign to make that apparent on his face. He was far too attractive to let such expressions spoil his good looks, and although he was certain that he alone could pull off such faces without looking unattractive, he had no desire to decrease his startling beauty for the sake of a serving girl.

He smiled when she offered him his drink, as if he was unaware of her revolting manner of speaking. She found him amusing? Amusing enough to roll her eyes at him, apparently. Well, Trephan smiled a little wider, that just wouldn't do. It was all too easy to weave a delightful little curse around her in penance for her disrespect.

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Trephan Bethlem smiled just as charmingly as ever at the bar-wench with her dead-fish eyes, as if she were the most interesting person in the world to him; he really did hope she had fun, now that nothing would be going her way. His amusement was pleasure enough to make his smile electrically bright and his voice was casual, friendly and as charming as his smile.

"Oh, there's no need to worry about that, I hardly mind. This is Gambit's, after all; is there such things as attitudes here?" With all the small, simple-minded and startlingly unattractive people that frequented. And there was another one! He glanced to the side and offered Isobel Shields an extension of his grin. "Good afternoon,"

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Trephan Bethlem felt a very interesting little tickle when the second of his court of admires turned to look his way, and almost laughed at the quaintness of it all before his sense of dignity put a halt to such unsightly ideas. It wouldn't do to let her know that he was on to her, oh no not at all, not when she could be such a wonderful distraction when kept in the dark. He had seen her little bits and pieces, and when added to that telltale little itch on his skin... fantastic.

He increased the magnitude of his smile, because he had seen her expression; she had been cowed by his beauty before she had chosen to probe deeper. Flattery would, of course, get her- well, not quite everywhere, Trephan freely acknowledged, but somewhere, certainly. Interesting, though not all that pretty, she had the makings of a fine game about her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Trephan," He extended a long, graceful hand for her to shake, deigning to touch her only because she was fun... and maybe a little bit frightened; he loved it when they were scared. "And what might I call the lovely lady, hmm?"

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Trephan Bethlem could practically feel her discomfort rolling away from her skin in deliciously flattering waves and for that reason over any other he raised her hand to his lips and pressed the chastest of kisses against her flesh. So worried, but trying to be so strong; he could feel the pressure of it, even if her emotions were hidden from him. This was his game, this was what made him feel alive, and the idea that his presence alone would finally drive her into insanity was the ultimate compliment to a powerfully narcissistic man.

Gently, he released her hand. "Isobel! A gorgeous name for a truly lovely lady, and so kind! It's rare to see such friendly people here, I must say. And you are quite right, of course; this isn't really my setting, but I happened to be in town on business and really, there's nowhere else in the area. It's such a shame, but if this is where the people are, then what can I do but follow?"

He chuckled, the sound musically soft and enticing; come with me, his laughter sang. She would be his to play with, this interesting child.

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Oh, now she was just being obvious in her flattery, but Trephan was hardly going to complain; flattery was flattery, after all, and he did deserve it. If her words were said only to please him that made them no less honest, and the fact that she said such things to keep him favorably inclined towards him was a testament to his power. He continued to smile, perfectly content with this game for the moment, even when he could't be sure of her thoughts or intentions. He was too powerful (arrogant) to be worried by whatever she might be thinking of trying to escape him. He would let her go when he was ready, and not before.

"I like it that my name is uncommon; sharing a name seems oddly... intimate." There was a lick of power in that word, but he didn't make it strong enough for her to accurately read; he fully intended her to be faced by an impasse: was he suggesting that in giving him her name she had given herself to him, or was he suggesting he desired something more than a chaste kiss on the hand?

"And I do so love to travel. I'm in property development; business and... pleasure." He slipped in another little word for her to wonder about. This was a fantastic game.

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Trephan Bethlem chuckled again and she shook her head in what was clearly an attempt to shake off his influence, because if she though that would work then she was more deluded than he had initially thought. Not that her futile attempts weren't utterly enjoyable to watch; Trephan most certainly wasn't going to dissuade her from trying even as he wove a little more interest into his spell. Really, she could think of it what she wanted, because she was falling, and that was all that mattered.

His magic was for her, and it was up to her to interpret it; therein was the power. "Oh, sadly not! I haven't been here quite long enough to start such an ambitious project just yet. I'm simply surveying at the moment. Soon, though, I hope to build something truly magnificent here."

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Trephan Bethlem reached out, very daintily, and caught Isobel's hand as it swept through her hair. Smiling, he drew it forwards, pressing a kiss to the end of each of her fingers. He could taste the magic there; he wasn't sure what she'd done just yet, but he had had a suspicion that she was doing something, one that had now been confirmed. Naughty girl; he loved it.

"Perhaps you could show me around some time? That's a lovely offer! I accept, of course; it would be fantastic to see this place through the eyes of someone used to it, rather than my own." He wouldn't steal her eyes, of course, as she was nowhere near pretty enough for his tastes. He let a little of his magic tickle at her fingers though, just to suggest that he might be aware of what she was doing.

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Trephan Bethlem offered her his very widest, very best grin (a lone, a promise, but not something that he would ever let her keep), as he pressed the very tip of his tongue against the pad of her finger. He really did love to tease, and it was so much easier to drive them mad with uncertainty when he was so very unpredictable.

"Oh, I think you will be the most charming tour guide," he practically purred, gently setting her hand back on her knee. He rose, eyes glittering. "And I do hope to see you again; it's a date, of course. You can show me around this lovely place and I will purchase dinner and a nice wine for the occasion." Clearly, it was his intent to leave now, but more than his words went into saying that he would be back.

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Trephan Bethlem smiled, having sewn the first seeds of madness into her mind quite nicely, even if he did say so himself. He leaned down for just a moment, as if he was going to kiss her, but then pulled away and sauntered over to the door as if such a thing had never crossed his mind. He would be watching her for a long time, and hopefully she would keep his interest. Trephan laughed to himself as she swept out of the room.

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Trephan Bethlem took a careful step onto the proverbial doormat of Gambit's bar, and spared a moment to mourn the oncoming destruction of yet another of his pairs of very expensive shoes. Most people (commoners) would simply wash their shoes after stepping into the filth, and some chose to- he shuddered- not wash them at all. But not Trephan, of course. He refused to soil himself more than strictly necessary, and insisted on burning all clothes that had come into contact with the bar.

With a sigh, he wrote off his shoes and suite, checked that his hair was ordered, and stepped into the room.

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Trephan Bethlem took a quick look at the Amassed and Ugly that habitually chose to lurk in the bar (he wasn't disappointed; there were many of them) before choosing a seat for himself at the counter. The stool was grubby, but as was the room in general, so what could a fae do? The bartender was faced with a look of disdain but Trephan ordered regardless; he didn't have to drink the swill after.

He saw a small creature sharpening a knife, but didn't comment. Yet. He would simply observe for the moment, he decided.

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Trephan Bethlem yawned to show just how much the occupants of this particularly scummy watering hole were boring him and snapped his fingers. A dart appeared between his index and middle fingers, shining a wicked copper-bronze in the lighting of the bar. He smiled, his grin daubed playfully on the fletching for a moment before he flicked the little missile straight at Neutrina Angelbolt. Bored.

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