A man of middling height and build, little marks Lucius as peculiar. His dress is impeccable, tailored and fitted, formal yet worn comfortably as can be. Lucius affects slightly tussled yet well-coifed dark hair, long for a man of the era, yet still well within "proprietry". A perfectly groomed goatee and moustache complete his look.

The most noteworthy apparent attributes are his eyes, which always carry a glimmer of cleverness and guile. They are alert, and an odd cool gray, like dark ice. His voice is cultured, possibly trained, and quite agile, switching dialects and languages fluidly.

Lucius carries himself with excellent posture, and a note of confidence and dignity most would consider unbridled arrogance

Harvey is just an average guy with no outward unique features. He's in shape, healthy and works with pretty interesting people. He's traveled the world and can speak several different languages. To anyone who didn't know him, Harvey would be just a regular successful man.

However there is something... cold about Harvey. A mannerism that doesn't suit a man of his class. He talks a lot, too much one would say. As if to make a connection to those around him so as not to drift away. Though polite and friendly, there is a aura of menace about him sometimes that tend to set people on edge.

Charlie has seen more than he cares to remember and tries to forget what he can, any way he can. Having been an agent of the IDC for some time, he’s traveled the world on one mission or another. Intelligent, tough, and with an ability to speak and read most major and some minor (and even a few extinct) languages, Charlie has been around the world and back looking for people, and things that didn’t want to be found.

Cool under pressure his hand is as steady as a rock. And the hand usually has a cigarette in it or more often than not, a nice stiff drink. Alcohol hasn’t been able to remove all of the memories of his past, but it’s the best plan he’s got so far.

No one knows his last name, they just know him as Charlie. Only his superiors at IDC know his real name but they never use it when contacting him. People DO know that he’s the guy to go to if you need help. He’s not afraid to use the tools of his trade, but is particularly fond of his twin Colts and his fists to help him out in a jam.

While he mostly operates alone, he does have a few close ties to various organizations and some independents who he relies on when his own skills are lacking in certain areas.

Charlie is 5’ 9” but is a solid 195 pounds. He is always dressed in a plain suit that always looks like he just slept in it. His overcoat and fedora complete the ensemble and gives him a disheveled look that hides the true man underneath. Charlie looks older than his 27 years but when it counts, can still charm the dames when he needs the comfort of a “good” woman.

Samantha is the youngest child and only daughter of the 11th Earl of Kingston who is a prominent English nobleman. She grew up privileged but always getting into mischief - she would go on little adventures or find new ways to make a mess of herself and anything near her. Safely out of the line of succession she has been humored a great deal by her wealthy family because she is very charming and well mannered when she likes. Samantha is also a finely pretty English woman though very agile and robust for a lady. She has all the skills of the out-of-date English peerage and a small variety of skills not suited to a lady at all. She enjoys horse racing, skeet shooting, any kind of adventure, and adores the idea of having someone write about her own adventures someday.

A short n' scruffy street-kid, Molly lives by her own wits. Given the choice of going into an orphanage, or making it on her own, she hit the streets and never looked back. Molly's not her real name, of course, but it's good enough for her; she found a bright brass dog chain with the name Molly on the tag while scrounging for some grub one day, and took it as her own.

She can't remember how long she's been out there anymore, but it doesn't much matter to her - she's part of a world most people ignore. It's hard to tell how old she is, but she thinks she's somewhere around 14. Molly learned early in her new life to make friends with the other shapes in the shadows, and you rarely find her without at least one canine in her company. The dogs share what they have with her, and she with them. She has quick hands, and an easy charm - so far they've kept her well enough.

Molly's clothing has been scrounged from wherever she can find it, and can be best described as being of indeterminate colour and shape. The only things on her that aren't so is a blue scarf, rapidly growing filthy, and her dog tag and chain. She probably has fleas, but doesn't really notice them anymore.

Her hair is a tangled, bristling mop, sometimes full of whatever she's been crawling through lately. It might once have been a white-blond, but now it is a mottled rat's-nest of mud and grass stains. Likewise, her skin might once have been pale, but it's impossible to tell what she looks like underneath all that dirt. All that stands out in the sea of brown that is Molly is her eyes - they're a piercing pale blue, set in deep hollows, and above all hungry. A hard glare of her eerie lupine orbs is usually enough to get what she wants.

Cleaned up she might be a nice kid, but she's been feral a long time now, and rarely trusts the fickle kindness of other people.