Hocus and Pocus

[Amandaa]

Name: Eve

Age: unknown but has hinted to be at least 2,000 years old.

Appearance: Eve has a slightly tanned toned body, with her long blonde hair (always worn up) and green eyes to match. She looks to be about 25 years old. She wears glasses (decorative) and often wears a white coat.

Personality: Eve is a bit of a workaholic, she's rather mysterious, as she has often diverted questions about her immortality and background.

Background: Living so long as an immortal being, she travels to distant countries, and works every conceivable job, from doctor to mechanic to teacher.

Department(s): The Secrets That Hold Answers Department & The Secrets That Have Corrupted Man

Talents: She is multi skilled at almost everything due to her diverse background. She can fix machines (and engines), be a medical doctor, can research science (biologys, chemicals, physics, etc), and other things that she's picked up along the way. Also due to her travels, she knows almost every language known to man.

Additional/Misc. Information: Eve is somewhat of a religious person.

[Amandaa]

Eve comes up from below deck, holding her mouth in her hand while stumbling around. As she gets closer to Mr. Swan and his companions she stops short about two feet before hanging her body over the edge of the yacht and throwing up.

"Eve, my dear, after all this time, you still get sea sick?" Mr. Swan teases her a little.

As Eve tried to clean herself up, she turns to look at Mr. Swan "Ridiculous isn't it. Why did you even bring me out here? You know I'm not much of the front-lines person. I'm more of a protect-the-base kind of person."

"My dear, we could use all the help we can get. Having you here might help us if we require some of your skills quickly." Mr. Swan answers her.

"Why don't you let all of us know what your insight is for reincarnation?" Mr. Swan smiles as he already knows her answer. Mr. Swan and Eve have been working together for many years. He is probably the one person that knows her best.

"Reincarnation? Well, if you mean in the sense that your soul will continue to live on as your current physical body dies. Then I believe that it is very possible. The afterlife is a sort of reincarnation. Your soul will move from this plane of existence to the next as a form of reincarnation." Eve smiled back at Mr. Swan before feeling sick again and tossing half her body over the side of the yacht to throw up once again. She lingers there for a moment then sets herself up. A bit of her hair has come undone. She pulls her hair back into place and straightens her glasses.

[Nolre Aperrelous]

Nolre flicked the cigarette into the sea and watched it disappear into the blue. Mr. Swan frowned, and Nolre scratched at his neck, preparing to speak.

"You guys know why he's asking about reincarnation? It's because most of the people on this boat are about to die."

Swan tried to hush Nolre, but he turned around to face the women that had come. Nearly meeting eyes with both of them, he continued.

"Do you two agree that it's time man opened their eyes? Do you know what happened last time they did such a thing?"

"Nolre, please, you're--"

"The motherfucking Witch Hunts, that's what happened. Only three witches have died by man's hands in the entire history of civilization. No, Mister Swan. It's not time for man to open their eyes and it never will be. And to bring what is essentially an offering to whatever it is you want to show me is wrong."

Swan glared at Nolre with a face that offered no emotion. Nolre returned the look and snatched his boss' drink from his hands. He held it up to the crowd and drew attention to himself.

"To living forever," Nolre shouted. The rest of the party did the same, and once they turned away Nolre poured the champagne on the deck at Mr. Swan's feet.

"Just know this: none of these people are coming back. Ladies, enjoy your evening."

Nolre took his leave to mingle with the guests, and Swan's eyes watched him as he went.

[Amandaa]

Eve smiled at Nolre and gave a quick sly glance over to Swan.

"For someone that has lived as long as he has, he sure is afraid of death." Speaking to the remaining party. "So what are we expecting from this Mr. Swan?" Now just talking to Mr. Swan directly.

"You'll see soon enough, Eve." Swan evades the question.

Eve clutches her stomach and mouth as if about to throw up again. After a moment the feeling goes away. She walks over to the bar area and decides to do something about this sea sickness. She grabs herself a glass of ginger ale to sooth her stomach a tiny bit. Instead of going off to mingle with the other guests, she decides to go back down below deck.

Once down there, she helps prepare for every scenario. Eve does an inventory check on the medical supplies, survival gear, and weapons. Although, when she handles a gun, she has no clue if it is in working condition. She holds up the gun by the handle between her thumb and index and closely looks at it. "It seems fine." Talking to herself. She plops it down again without taking any real care.

[Nolre Aperrelous]

{So, I'm gonna give this thread until Sunday, and then I'm posting.
I'll try to keep it going slow so newcomers don't come in after much of the expositions.
Also, I feel like we need some humans so go ahead and make more than one character if you want.
It's not mandatory, but it is encouraged.}

EDIT: Also, feel free to have your character switch or join different departments as the story progresses.

I think I may have mentioned that.

[Nolre Aperrelous]

Name: Delial Van der Vries

Age: 22

Appearance: Delial is usually well dressed with slicked hair. He is clean shaven. He has dark brown hair and likewise eyes, and other than that he looks like an average American man.

Background/Personality: Delial was born in Chicago, Illinois, but quickly moved to the grimy backstreets of dying New York. He grew up around drugs and gunshots and is numb to danger. At nine, Delial was born with Asperger's Syndrome, which is the reason for his fascination with otherworldly things and languages. Delial was kicked out of the house by his ******* of a step father when he was just fourteen, and met Nolre in a suspicious alley. Nolre was kind to them, and since then they've traveled together and lived together, Nolre teaching Delial many languages, including some dialects of Hell.

Department(s): Delial doesn't work for Hocus and Pocus yet, but Nolre has put in a good word for him to be a communicator with paranormal beings. Soon he'll work in the Secrets That Hold Answers Department

Talents: Delial speaks many a language as mentioned before, but because of the Asperger's he is able to learn every detail about anything that fascinates him.

Additional/Misc. Information: Besides the Asperger's, that's pretty much it. He's not good in combat.

[Amandaa]

{So, I'm gonna give this thread until Sunday, and then I'm posting.
I'll try to keep it going slow so newcomers don't come in after much of the expositions.
Also, I feel like we need some humans so go ahead and make more than one character if you want.
It's not mandatory, but it is encouraged.}

EDIT: Also, feel free to have your character switch or join different departments as the story progresses.

I think I may have mentioned that.

Considering there is only 3 people so far...having one human isn't like "oh noes we need more humans"

[xobscenemetalmelodiez]

{{Ooh, I might just make a second character at some point.}}

[Happiness is a Warm Gun]

Name: Jessy

Age: 18

Appearance: Jessy has dark curly hair which goes just a little past the middle of her back. Her eyes are dark and shaped like small almonds. Her lips are tiny like most of her other features. Standing at about 5'1" Jessy is often mistaken for a small girl, 'till someone catches a glimpse of her chest. (I'll edit more of this letter. For those of you who know me, if you can't already tell... this character is pretty much just me. Name and all, look at me.. being creative ~_~)

Background/Personality: After living in a strict and sheltered household for 18 years, Jessy left her parents house just a few months after her 18th birthday and moved in with her older brother Jack. Although Jack and Jessy have nothing at all in common, they share the same hatred for the house they grew up in. Jack works graveyard shifts at an old factory, while Jessy goes to school during the days and has a job bar-tending at a local pub on the weekends. She usually likes to keep to herself, but doesn't mind engaging people in conversation. Her best friends are her books, and she never leaves anywhere without a pack of cigarettes.

Department(s): ----

Talents: As far as talents go, the only thing Jessy is -skilled- at is spinning stories. Lying is second nature to her and almost a curse. Her mind hardly processes the situation, and already her mouth is spouting out some unnecessary lies. This habit of hers has gotten so bad, it's to the point where she can't even differentiate between her own lies and truths. She's starting to believe her own stories. Many a times she'll tell someone a different name and completely false life story and keep this up for months, then just disappear from said person's life. She won't recall these incidents at all either. The only reason she has any clue that she's done this is because of her brother, Jack. He is convinced that she is a borderline schizophrenic, but seeing as Jessy hates any type of doctors, she refuses to go and get herself checked out. SO BASICALLY OTHER THAN BEING A COMPULSIVE LIAR AND A PSYCHO BITCH, SHE'S JUST GOOD AT BEING HOT.

Additional/Misc. Information: She hates cars. She has her license but refuses to drive anywhere. She takes her bike or goes on foot, no matter the distance. She only listens to instrumental music, never anything with lyrics. Keeps a dream journal and she's a virgin.

(I WAS GOING TO POST TONIGHT, BUT I NEED YOSEF'S HELP WITH SOMETHING SO I'LL PICK THIS SHIT UP TOMORROW. AND AGAIN FOR ANY OF YOU THAT KNOW ME, THIS CHARACTER IS NOT MADE UP, THIS IS ME. JK I'M LYING. JK I'M LYING ABOUT LYING.... SEEEEEEE!)

[stonedleprechaun]

Gabriella gave a tinkling laugh as she was left on her own with Mr Swan.

'Jeez, what's his problem?'

Mr Swan's eyes narrowed and focused on her.

'Trust me when I tell you that you can't even imagine,' he said, darkly and strode off, leaving her on her own at the end of the boat. She gave a small shrug, trying not to let it bother her and returned to the party.

She mingled among supernatural beings and humans, gently flirting with them all. All of them were at the sme loss she was as to their presence on the boat. None of them really knew what they were doing there.

As she reached for another glass of champagne, determined to enjoy herself, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She slowly turned, a deep sense of foreboding washing over her. Her eyes met a familiar sight. A cigarette hanging out of the corner of a pair of lips that always seemed curved in a sardonic smile. A nose that had been broken too many times in fist fights to be considered attractive. Eyes that darted around suspiciously, as though they did not trust anyone but anyone did not trust them either.

She took a step backwards, not wanting to deal with him right now. He had other ideas, however, and curled a strong hand around the top of her arm.

'Ella,' he murmured softly. 'I did not expect you to be here.' She gave a bitter laugh, he had not changed at all. He was incredibly arrogant, thinking that he was the only important one. She had proven him wrong on that account.

'James,' she replied sharply. Far sharper than was imagined possible for her race but then humans always did irritate her. 'I did not expect to be here, either.'

He gave a deep chuckle, as though her reaction deeply satisfied him. He always did manage to annoy her and reveal her true self beneath the calm exterior she liked to portray. She had not seen him in a few years, they had not parted on the best of terms. His lifestyle did not suit hers and neither were willing to change. A conman and a fairy would never be a good match. He knew criminals and she knew demons. Despite the amount criminals and demons mixed in the world they lived, the social circles they ran in were completely different. Ella never did appreciate all the crack dealers he bought back to their apartment in New York.

'What do you reckon it's all about?' he asked lazily, in the beautiful Irish accent of his. Ella shook his hand off her arm, and brushed a loose tendril of hair behind her ear haughtily.

'No idea,' she replied, the gossip in her refusing to be provoked. She had heard rumours about the elusive Mr Swann, and how he was hoping to set up departments to control paranormal activity of any sort. She had also heard that he had very little patience for humans so she was not quite sure who he was trying to protect. James took a small step towards her, his grin widening and the dimples showing in his cheeks. He knew when she was lying. He touched her arm again, but with none of that force before. He stroked her inner arm gently, bringing back unwanted memories.

'Really, Ella?' Her eyes burned with fury at the unwanted intimacy that she avoided with him for so long.

'Yes, really!' she snapped, her voice raised. A few bystanders glanced over at them but James shook his head to indicate there was no problem and they returned to their own conversations.

'Because I coulda sworn you know,' he said. 'I saw you talking to Mr Swann. I know how you like talking.' The last comment was a dig at her. She had almost got James Gunn arrested due to her affinity to gossip. She was boasting about an art heist he had managed to pull off in a very public place. It just so happened she was sitting behind a retired policeman who did not think twice to report the comments she made. Without thinking, she drew her arm back to throw the glass of champagne she was holding all over the young man in front of her. However, her action was interrupted by the tinkle of metal on glass. Mr Swann was standing on a raised platform at the front of the boat, tapping a champagne flute as though he was reading to start a speech.

The whole boat fell silent and all turned to look at him.