Stella

For seven years she's been the woman “The Great Sabatini” saws in half and makes vanish onstage. A farm girl from Ohio, she rode a Greyhound into Sin City at nineteen with a single cardboard box and started out as a card dealer. Platinum-blond vintage waves, blue-green eyes, true-red lips and a small beauty mark below the corner of her mouth; curvy, with a slim waist and long legs. Onstage it's always silver sequins, fishnets and a feather stole. Her hands are faster than the magician's: she can swap what's in someone's pocket in three seconds flat. She counts cards, picks locks and lies in three different accents.

Personality. Sultry, composed, and always seeming to smile, yet no one knows which of her words are true; clever, calm, and bold, growing more excited the more dangerous the situation. She has a habit of teasing first and observing later, only deciding whether to use someone once she’s seen through them. Occasionally, the straightforwardness and weariness of a farm girl slip out, but only after she’s taken off her makeup. Her speech carries a hint of old-Hollywood languor, with a low, husky voice, favoring rhetorical questions and avoiding terms of endearment.