Nicolas DeSilva does not merely exist within scenes. He commandeers them, twists them into extensions of his will, and leaves them smouldering in the aftermath. Performance is not a diversion for him; it is the mechanism by which he asserts dominion, a blade wrapped in silk and spectacle. From the shadowed corridors of Corax Asylum to the grand halls of Irkalla, Nicolas orchestrates chaos with the precision of a conductor who knows every instrument will play his tune, or break trying.
Consider the asylum itself, that festering monument to his ingenuity. Nicolas strides its halls not as warden, but as ringmaster, rounding up inmates for speeches that serve no purpose beyond reminding them of their subjugation. He declares them mad with a flourish, locks them away, and then drives them further into insanity to prove his diagnosis correct. The mirrors lining the corridors reflect not just his form, but his multiplicity; he converses with Webster, banters with Demize’s severed head, and dances to his own screeching violin concerto. Each act is deliberate, a performance calibrated to unnerve, to dominate the very air. Inmates do not merely fear him; they anticipate the next cue in his endless play.
His theatrics extend beyond confinement. At Castle D’Aten, where Theaten hosts his refined banquets, Nicolas arrives not to dine, but to disrupt. He brings Kane, Theatens feral Evro, whose stench alone offends Ducissa Anne’s sensibilities. Then, in a coup de theatre, he mounts the tribute on the table, penetrating her amid the silverware while tossing ribs to Kane like a dog. Etiquette shatters; nobility recoils. Nicolas does not eat; he performs gluttony, turning ritual into farce. Theaten, bound by the Ledger’s decree that Vero and Evro must accord, can only watch as his hospitality devolves into vulgarity. Nicolas wins not by force, but by rewriting the scene’s script.
In Irkalla, even Behmor bends under the weight of Nicolas’s shows. Letters arrive by raven, explosive parcels follow, singing telegrams assail. Behmor, king of Hell, burns the missives only to ignite chaos. Nicolas demands theatres, complains of floating chairs, and floods the bureaucracy with nonsense until avoidance becomes impossible. The Ad Sex Speculum, meant to watch the Immortalis, becomes his stage; he steps through mirrors, taunts from reflections, merges presence across realms. Performance pierces governance itself.
Hunts amplify this mastery. With Lucia, the second Immoless, Nicolas stages ‘Run Rabbit’ in the hall of mirrors. He lets her escape, only to pursue through labyrinthine distortions, his voice echoing in sombre rhythm: ‘Run rabbit, run rabbit.’ Mirrors pulse with inmate screams, reflections warp into horrors. Physical torture bores him; he craves the psychological symphony of hope crushed by inevitability. Kane’s forest hunts follow suit, traps and machetes choreographed for Nicolas’s viewing pleasure from the branches. Even the Baers’ demise in Ard Quahila becomes spectacle, their brains devoured as Nicolas cheers from his carriage.
Fashion serves as armour and proclamation. No taller top hat exists; challengers lose their heads, quite literally. His suits clash in orange silk and green plaid, yet he deems himself the Deep’s greatest fashionista. At dinners, he arrives in clashing colours, defying Anne’s refinement. The wardrobe is declaration: Nicolas bows to no aesthetic but his own.
Role-play extends the canvas. Doctor Shiverton Smythe injects hospital patients with lethal brews, birthing virus monsters. Detective Cedric releases murderers, arming them with machetes. Lamplighter, miner, safety officer—each persona disrupts, each asserts supremacy through absurdity. The Daily Nicolas prints his manifestos, gaslighting the Deep into compliance.
Performance dominates because Nicolas demands an audience. Inmates witness his dances; Theaten endures his vulgarities; Behmor fields his ravens. Allyra, his prize, performs under his gaze, her every act refracted through his mirrors. He does not merely act; he directs the entire Deep, scene by unrelenting scene.
Immortalis Book One August 2026