She had a long thin face, with emerald green eyes. Her skin was tarnished from dirt, her long brown hair pulled back behind her face into a bun that was hidden by a cap. But the most astounding thing about her was the scars that lead from her right eyebrow down along her face stopping only at her lips. It looked as if once the cut that had made the scar went across her lips as well, but that had healed without a scar to bear for all eternity. She was wearing long sort of bell bottom jeans; they were covered with patches and faded. As a shirt she wore a dark black tank top that said ‘Got a problem? Like I care’ in a silver block lettering. This girl had lived through a lot, and a little depending on whom you placed her next too. She had once lived at magic school, know dwelling in the place’s of the dark, calling on her ancestor’s powers to build her up. As well as keep her safe.
Her only fear was that of death, much as it has been for all her life. The girl was Court twenty four years old, and a demon of the night. Her powers are Astral Echo which the power to talk telepathically to someone by reading their essence. She had barely a hold on that power and believed it to be her only power but she also had the power of Pyrokinesis, which is the power of creating and controlling fire.

 

Dev was an ordinary girl, ordinary looks, ordinary past, and ordinary friends. Yea right. Really, Dev was not an ordinary girl, she was a witch and a powerful one at that, she didn’t have ordinary looks, she was a model, an actress, and a surfing instructor. She did have some ordinary friends though, but her best friend happened to be a witch who owned a café, and many other of her friends were the witches known to pretty much all the other witches in the world. The Charmed Ones.
Dev liked attention, which is why she had all of her jobs, but she liked acting, if gave her a feeling of priority. Dev had cut her hair, not too short though. Her butt length golden curls had been cut to shoulder length, though the designs she wove with her hair were still very medieval. She wore a bright orange flaring knee length skirt with black fishnet stockings, and black ballet flats. For a top, she wore a black halter-top, and a black bomber jacket. Her golden hair was pulled back into wonderful zigzags and braids, twists and turns. ((For something of an example, go here, I know the picture isn’t that good. kheryn.com/images/khe-braided.jpg))
Dev had grown also, after seeing her father die before her eyes, she set out to find her family fortune, the one she left behind, and nobody could claim. She found it, and became quiet rich, and she shared it with Ghost, they lived in a large pent house further away from the city. They had three cars, a Viper, ((vidalsmonami.hypermart.net /viper/lassenviper.jpg)) a Porsche ((http://www.wallpaper.net.au/ wallpaper/automotive/Porsche%20Carrera%20GT%202%20-%20800x600.jpg)) and a Lamborghini Motorcycle. ((http://www.boxer-design.com/historique/img_hist/lamborghini.jpg)) Dev liked her rich life, but she also liked to lie back sometimes, just like she was doing now, at The Tigna Café, which was Ghost’s café.

 

Ghost was now what was called a full-fledged witch. She had full control of her powers; she just didn’t use them. She couldn’t, like every other witch around. The witch hunters were out, and they were looking for her. Not her exactly, but since Ghost was a witch in a way, they were looking for her. Ghost had long black hair, no more gold and silver streaks, now just straight and shiny, but it had an odd sparkle in it, like it was bewitched to look better then it really was. She had dark eyes, which shone in the sunlight, and made her face look calm and relaxed, but somehow upright, and alert. Ghost had a thin face, along with a thin frame, tall, though not huge. Ghost had grown a lot in the past few years, going through things she never thought possible. Going back in time, meeting her best friend, Dev, meeting new friends, two of them had gone back to the underworld, making Ghost sad, for she was not one for loosing valued friendships. But Ghost could not control what the future could bring. If she really wanted to, she could travel to the future, perhaps to watch the witch hunters arrest her friends, because they couldn’t hide forever, sooner or later someone would have to lose, and Ghost could bet that the witches and warlocks and the demons would win that war. But like in any war, people were killed, captured, hurt. Ghost didn’t enjoy having to hide from the full public, but sometimes, in times like these, there was no choice. Ghost worked at a café mid town, where the pay was high, and the food was good, business was constant, and what was best, Ghost owned it. Ghost liked the little business, she made friends with regulars, and she was always meeting new people. She liked to sit on the counter, sipping some kind of hot drink, talking to customers as they waited for their orders. Today, Ghost wore shortly short denim shorts, with a small daisy sticking out of her pocket. She wore jersey with the café’s name on it, and the normal coffee emblem on the back, that fit her perfectly, on her feet, large orange combat boots, making her look like some kind of hiking-girl next door-chick. Ghost liked her style though, she didn’t care what anybody thought, and most people were okay with that. Most people.