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Johannes Rocha

"Hello, Wicked Witch of West Sussex speaking, how may I change your life for good?"

0 · 678 views · located in Main Street

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

Description

Johannes - 'Nes - Rocha
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Okay, so my name is Johannes. Johannes Rocha - and yeah, I know, it's a weird name for a guy born in West Sussex to English parents; my Mum's grandparents were Portuguese, and she never took my Dad's name. Neither did I. I guess she just liked the name. I like it too. It's a good name.

I did get Christmas cards addressed to Yohanis when I was kid, though. So, anyways, I'm from England. We weren't a posh family, though. You know how it is, we've got a bit of an accent and people assume we're rolling in money. We did okay for ourselves. My Mum was a witch too, see, so she would get paid to help people with spells and the like. Dad is a dentist. I don't have any brothers or sisters.

Uh... What else is there to say? Oh, yeah! I'm a witch. Not like the Harry Potter kind of witch, 'cause obviously I'm a guy and those witches are girls. And I don't have a twig to wave around. I do have a wand, but it's made out of bone and it's really not something I want (or need) to carry around with me all the time. I help hunters out every now and then when demons or spirits come calling - hunters are those people who get rid of the nasties that wander around killing people, by the way. I'm, uh, sort of with one of them. Her name's Liza Covet. She's freaking awesome. She's a year or so younger than I am and she's been hunting for years - we actually met on a hunt. I thought she was a loopy lady trying to talk to the spirit that'd been pulling those kids into the ground, but then she turned around and shot at me with a salt-coated bullet. Well, shot near me. The spirit was behind me, so really she was saving me.

Anyway, I thought I'd be all impressive and, like, save her in return when the thing pulled her half into the ground, but I was a bit rushed and ended up sealing it into a pebble by accident. It got the job done, though. Then, just when I was feeling pretty cool and she was grinning at me, I...

Keeled over sideways. Out cold before I hit the ground. Bit too much energy into that one.

Er, yeah. That's pretty much how we met. She saved me, I saved her, she carried me up to her room, I slept on her bed for about five hours and then we both left the next morning. We've been inseparable (sort of) ever since. Covet's great. Good at her job and a personality like boiling water.

Let's see, what else is there. Well, there's the Hill. The Hill is a bar in South-West Scotland. A nice couple run it - they're really nice. Pure awesome, really. Danny (his name is Daniel, but for some reason he only lets his wife call him that) is a telepath. He can read your mind and talk to you and everything. Amelia, his wife, she's a psychic. That means no surprise parties. Believe me, we've tried. We tried for her baby shower, for every one of her birthdays since we met, even a completely random party that didn't have a meaning.

No dice. Every single time she'd walk in and pull this strange smile followed by a really bad attempt at sounding surprised. We all love her, but she's a terrible actor. Absolutely God awful.

They have a son called Will. He's five-years-old and he occupies Covet's time every single day we're at the bar. Honestly, he says one word and off she goes to look at a slug or some drawing of a caterpillar that looks like a bit of grass someone's spilled butter on.

Anyways. He's a good kid, really.

Who else is there? Well... there's Michael James. Douchebag extraordinaire. And I mean extraordinaire. He's a demon. He tried to kill Covet a few years back and since then she's been using him to get information on demon attacks and the like with the promise that he won't get sent back to Hell if he's good.

He's not good. He never is. He always comes back when we exorcise him and each time he's stronger. We haven't figured out how to kill him yet, but when we do I'm pretty sure we'll end up drinking for about a week as celebration.

So, yeah. That's me. And my girlfriend (I don't think she likes that word, though). My friends. My enemies.

Oh, and if you ever hear anyone talking about the Wicked Witch of West Sussex, that's me. I love Wicked. Complete and utter nerd for it.

God, I need help.




Name: Johannes Rocha [Yo-Ha-Nes Rok-Ah]
Nicknames: 'Nes, 'Nessie, 'Annie
Date of Birth: 1 March 1977

Species: Human
Race: Caucasian (Portuguese ancestors, English parents)
Status: Witch (Hunter)

So begins...

Johannes Rocha's Story

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#, as written by Cloasse
She had told him to avoid this street at all costs. She had told him that, were she to find him on this street, she would castrate him. She had also told him that, were she to find him in this bar, she would remove all hope he had of ever fathering children.

Johannes Rocha, however, knew Liza Covet far too well and so felt quite confident in wandering down Main Street and into Gambit's Bar without the slightest hint of hesitance. Of course, he did have his wand in his backpack (under his novel of the week, his laptop and some form of gun that Liza had insisted he carry) but he wasn't too inclined to use the thin strip of carved bone at the best of times.

"Well." Okay. What was the big deal? Just two rather queer folk clinging to one another at the bar? "Ahaha... she's been winding me up!" That seemed quite likely. "What a girl..."

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#, as written by Cloasse
Being who he was, Johannes really didn't have much time for pub-crawls or randomly skipping out on his girlfriend to go to some bar he'd literally only been in once, but he just really had to get out of that damn car and breathe in some air that wasn't full of warding herbs or rock salt.

Liza hadn't even blink when he'd muttered his goodbyes and popped out of existence. She was just that amazing.

Anyway, Gambit's was where it was at. He'd been told that it was always full, always had drama and --

"Are you shitting me? Really?" Johannes had taken about ten steps into the bar before the silence hit him. "Empty?" Not empty. "One person?" Someone was screwing with him.

The witch grimaced, glancing back at the door as if considering the possibility of his finding another bar just up the road with more people... but then he returned his hazel-eyed gaze to the one occupant of the bar. And then he smiled.

"Hello there!" Optimism, go fucking eat your heart out.

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#, as written by Cloasse
"Rum? Awful kind of you, but... I've to get back to my girl and - trust me on this, man - it's really fucking difficult if you're trying to get into a moving car if you're tipsy. It's pretty much impossible not to end up in some nasty trucker's cabin. They're really chatty guys, once they get over the shock." No one could ever say that Johannes wasn't a chatterbox himself. He strolled over to his new found friend and settled himself in a seat opposite.

"You should definitely enjoy yourself though! You, er, smell like you've been enjoying yourself already." The grin did not falter. Not once.

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#, as written by Cloasse
"I'm afraid that is you, yes," Johannes replied happily, watching as the other shook his head and sent droplets of what he really, really hoped was alcohol around himself. "Nah, I really shouldn't. No, no - the car is running fine. My girlfriend keeps that heap of junk running smoother than new cars, though how she does it I really couldn't tell you. I think she's in Minnesota right now. It's all fine. I'll catch up to her when she hits Nebraska... Yeah, that sounds about right." He spent a moment confirming this before he shrugged.

"Sorry - being rude. I'm Johannes. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance and all!"

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#, as written by Cloasse
"Kids? Aha, yeah. In a few years, maybe," the man laughed with a roll of his eyes. "I'll keep you in mind if we ever need a fire hazard to amuse our non-existent kin, yeah?" The witch met Skald's hand with his own and gave it a lax shake. "D'you usually hang around here? I heard that this place was more... er... Active, I suppose. Dramatic."

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#, as written by Cloasse
Johannes' eyes widened. "Good grief. Well... That definitely counts as active, I suppose. Don't suppose you get much ladies around here, then? I mean, I know Liza's been here with bloody Michael," Johannes grouched, for the first time losing his smile, although it was soon hitched back into place. "But if this place is dangerous, I imagine that women wouldn't -- shouldn't you put that in an ash tray or a bin?"

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"Seems a bit grotty to just chuck it on the floor, though," Rocha points out fairly. "It's not that much effort... I think." He didn't smoke, so he couldn't really say. Liza, though, smoked like a chimney after the stress of a hunt and she always managed to find the ash tray or the bin. "An address? Err... I don't have an address," he went on to inform Skald, brows furrowed. "I certainly don't live in this city. Doesn't feel right at all!"

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"You can't really send a postcard to someone who doesn't have an address." Or could you? He'd only sent one postcard in his life, and that was to his grandmother at the tender age of three.

He'd drawn a flamingo and coloured it in red. It was meant to be a dog, but he'd got sidetracked by his visit to the zoo, so that was why the flamingo had a dog tail. He was pretty sure that the postcard was still taped to the fridge. The thought made him snort with laughter.

"Yeah... I'll certainly consider dropping in, but..." Who washe kidding? They were off fighting demons and Michael in America! He was as good as dead. "Who knows? Maybe we'll cross paths again and again."

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Johannes Rocha strolled rather amicably into the bar, looking for all his worth like the most relaxed thirty-six-year-old in existence. He'd just came off-shift from 'work', phoned his gorgeous fiancée and had been granted permission to 'stay the fuck out of the house, Johannes, I'm trying to clean it.'

All in all, it was a good day. What better day to venture into a bar and have a look-see at all the queer people it may house?

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With nary a blink of an eye towards the utterly redundant actions of the other two in the bar, Johannes made his way over to the bar and took a seat. He was quietly contemplating just which drink he should indulge himself in when a robotic server arrived to take his order.

"Oh, what the hell," he said aloud with a shrug of his shoulders and a wide grin, "let's go for the whisky. Then I can tell Danny that I really am that awesome. I''ll phone him as soon as I get home."

The robot humoured him with a look before travelling off to retrieve the requested drink.

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Johannes Rocha smiled happily as his whisky was brought to him, in a sweet little tumbler and with just the right amount of ice to take the edge off and all, before he stood and paid the robotic server. "There! I don't know if you guys do tips or not, but I'll be sure to leave one before I leave!"

After spending a very quick minute searching for the least offending person in the room, Johannes Rocha took a seat opposite Sam Barkley with a wide, unrestrained smile.

"Hi there. I'm Johannes. Hope you don't mind me sitting here!"

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#, as written by Cloasse
As he was wont to be, Johannes Rocha was entirely calm and collected when he strolled amicably into the bar. He was dressed as most mortal humans would dress - a pair of comfortable, somewhat stylish jeans and a warm, long-sleeved jumper brought together with a neon-coloured belt that matched the laces tying the off-white trainers securely to his feet.

The only odd thing about Johannes Rocha (except, perhaps, for his curly hair) was the thin strip of carved bone he was holding in his right hand. Usually the wand wasn't ever out of its case, but today he'd had the need of it, and there was just something about holding his wand that made him feel that little bit more at ease with himself, that little bit warmer.

That warmth only encouraged a cheeky drink, obviously, and Johannes strayed towards the bar to order just that.

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Johannes spent a frail moment debating between alcohol and some form of fruit juice before selecting a bottle of something that he was almost completely certain that they served in Scotland.

Almost certain. Looking around the bar, it seemed he wasn't the only one indulging - though, by the looks of things, maybe he was the only one who hadn't over-indulged. "You alright there, mate?"

Ever chipper, Johannes grinned as he addressed the unstable male pitching himself a plot at the counter. "All good?"

As for the question posed by Serfictus Vilio, well... Johannes had never been too grand with the electronics. The witch waved his wand absently in the other's direction. "Dunno about that one, mate, but if it were me I'd sit down in the corner and cry, yeah?"

Well... Maybe crying would be a bit too emasculating...

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#, as written by Cloasse
Johannes couldn't say that he particularly enjoyed being in Wing City. Even the buildings in this place game him the heebie-jeebies - and that was quite possibly because there were demons and other supernatural creatures creeping about as if they belonged.

Which, to be fair, they kind of did.

Still, the witch loved Gambit's Bar. It reminded him vaguely of The Hill (at least, sitting at a bar whilst people talked and existed around him did), and he was sure that even Michael James wouldn't want the souls strolling around here.

So, in tramped the Wicked Witch of West Sussex, grin plastered on his face and bone wand stowed away in the dark backpack slung over his shoulder. Covet would turn up sooner or later - at least, she'd promised she would. Johannes headed over to the counter to order himself a beer and take a seat. Liza would turn up soon enough, and then they could both figure out what the next step in dealing with their angel.

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#, as written by Cloasse
Johannes smiled pleasantly at Alix and raised a polite hand. "I'd like a beer, if that's not too much trouble," he requested, all soft words and crinkled eyes. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket (eventually - those skinny jeans were fucking great if a pickpocket tried to get you, but not so hot for reclaiming your possessions from their denim enclosures) and tugged a note out of the cracked leather. "Here's due payment," the witch winked, popping the money atop the counter.

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Johannes paused with his hand hovering above the money he'd just placed down. "Say what?" the witch blethered, brows furrowed. "The beer? Really? Shit." Damn it. The one time Liza promised she'd drive if he got pished! "I guess it was a bit early for drinking anyway." If the witch sounded disappointed, it was because he really, really was.

"So... You come here often?" That sounded awful, Johannes. Awful. "If you know about the beer tampering and stuff, then you must, right? Or are you local?"

What if Liza wanted to drink when she got here? Oh, hell no. No. He would summon Michael and let him deal with her if she got drunk. The demon deserved that kind of torture!

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#, as written by Cloasse
"Well, thank you for telling me," Johannes nodded, tone grateful and light. "I was looking forward to a cold beer, but I'd rather be sober than dead or worse. Lucky you were around, really!"

Tucking both his money and his wallet away, Johannes dropped his backpack onto the floor beside his feet. "So, my name's Johannes. I'm not really entertaining, but, uh..." He trailed off and glanced awkwardly at the pair who had been 'debating'. "At least I'll not try to kill you. I probably won't, anyway. You don't know anyone called Michael do you?"

Johannes grinned at the very thought - Michael wouldn't ever willingly hang around this place. The idea that high and mighty, unholier-than-thou Michael James would step foot into this bar was highly amusing.

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"Everyone should appreciate that I'm not trying to kill them. It's a very nice thing for me to do, really. You don't want to meet him, Arien," Johannes smiled. "He's a douchebag. Like, seventh circle of hell douchebag!"

Shaking his head (and wondering if Arien had paid for that in advance or what), Johannes shrugged his shoulders. "But if you haven't met him, you don't need to worry about him. There are bigger things to worry about."

As if daring Johannes to make a remark about coincidences, Liza Covet chose that moment to stroll into the bar. Johannes grinned, waving. Liza scowled.

"Oh, I'm definitely going to be driving tonight. I can't work the fucking clutch in that car, she knows I can only drive automatic."

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#, as written by Cloasse
"Girlfriend," Johannes replied. "And yeah. Really happy."

"'Nes, I swear to God. You need to explain to Imiel that bathrooms have lockable doors for a reason." Liza stopped at Johannes' side and tugged on one of his many curls before turning her frown on Arien. "Please tell me you're not trying to pick up more strays."

"I'm not picking up any strays! I haven't! Imiel fell on your car, he's your stray."

"He sits in your seat. He's yours. No beer?"

"It's been tampered with," Johannes explained, tone forcibly awestruck.

"Get me Jack Daniels and a cola?" Liza sat down and smirked. "You can drive home."

Johannes pouted at Arien with the most pathetic, dog-eyed look in existence.

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Johannes merely continued to pout as he flagged down whatever robotic server happened to be clinking about. "Jack Daniels and cola, please. Mostly cola." If he kept her sober enough, maybe she'd drive home!

"I wasn't wondering," Covet stated. Her eyes narrowed minutely at the sighting of Arien's fangs - but here? In Wing City? There was absolutely fuck all that she could do about it. Here, these people were citizens. Back home, they were intruders and murderers. "My name's Covet."

"Looky, Liza, here's your drink!"

"Thank Christ." Speaking of which... "Let me ask you a question, Mister I'm Not Taking Sides. If you took a stray into your home, you'd teach it not to zap itself into the bathroom when your girlfriend was taking a shower, right? He said he didn't understand the issue. I was showering."