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Author Topic: Billie Dragomir  (Read 798 times)

Billie Dragomir

    (03/04/2014 at 07:17)
  • Freelance Magical Creature Trainer
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E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T



CHARACTER INFORMATION

(***Admin permission was given ahead of time for the Animagus ability***)


Character Name: Billie Dragomir.
Gender: Female.
Age: 35/36.

Education: 
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Gryffindor House - Class of 1923 (give or take)

Extensive Field Training and Experience with Magical and Non-Magical Creatures


Residence:
England.

Occupation
Freelance Magical Creature Trainer. Technically.

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
Nope.

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 8.
  • Divination: 6.
  • Transfiguration: 11.
  • Summoning: 7.

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Not applicable.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
None, at the moment. Been gone awhile.

Biography: (300 words minimum.)

August of 1941

Ten minutes. That's all he was getting.

Breathing in through her nose, she was immediately hit with a smokey, peppery sort of aroma and as if in reaction, she leaned back fully against the wooden chair, gaze narrowed on the man across from her. Felix Hollingberry was, she reckoned anyway, a Ministry official. Because of her animagus ability, Billie was well aware that the Ministry would want to record her sodding existence on a chart somewhere. An interview was meant to be done for… Really, Billie wasn't entirely sure why it needed to be done at all. What were they checking for? Fleas? 

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Billie noticed as Hollingberry ordered them both drinks and proceeded to situate himself in a chair, getting comfortable as he puffed his ridiculously carved pipe. He smiled too widely around its amber stem and leaned forward. 

Tilting her head, Billie's lips curved in amusement, though an eyebrow lifted. "Right official this is then, yeah?" He tensed at that comment and Billie watched him fidget, looking about the dank little pub they were presently seated in. "Felix, are you examining my sanity - or whatever the ruddy hell it is you lot are doing these days - or are you trying to examine my…assets?" Her head tilted slightly as that last word left her mouth, the glint in her eye never wavering. But then she leaned forward, resting an arm on the splintered table. "Because, really mate, that didn't turn out for you when we were fifteen either."

"Watch yourself, Dragomir. There are methods; and, anyway, ain't this what you're good and familiar with?" His smile changed there. "Remember, I've got this," he popped his badge, "You'd do well to behave, Ms Dragomir. Single mum and all, be a real problem to be out of commission in these days."

Every bit of her wanted to reach for the wand at her hip, but her stance didn't shake, jaw only clenching. Gray-green eyes, having in that split second flashed more of an inhuman yellow, flicked to the badge.  "Shiny."

It was dry, and all she said in response, before she leaned back up again. Shifting, Billie grabbed a tin from the wooden sill of the window their table was up against; the window was streaked with dense grime, and what light was able to peek through highlighted the crimson hue of the tin, now being popped open in Billie's hand. Plucking a rolled cigarette from the case and lighting it, an eyebrow raised once again at the man. "Well then, get on with it."

He looked an odd cross between smug and disappointed, as he set his pipe aside and allowed his wand to file about bits of parchment in midair, hovering in front of him. "Name?" He paused, giving her a hard look. "Full name."

Rolling her eyes, Billie said, "Guillelmina Violeta Dragomir."

Felix smirked, "Date of birth and place."

"November, twenty-second. Romania." She noticed his expression, "Don't give me that, Felix. I've lived in England since I was five." Bringing the cigarette to her lips, she took a deep inhale. "Do you truly think," She let the smoke filter out smoothly, and pinned him with an entertained grin. "that my grandmother wouldn't have made sure we were all good and official? Really. You're a right genius, you are."

His annoyed expression pleased her, even more so when he grabbed at his pipe and practically ate it from gritting his teeth so damn hard.

Felix blew some smoke of his own out, licking chapped lips before saying, "Speaking of your grandmother. Isn't she a squib or somethin'?" He appeared more cheerful at this realization. "The rest of your family. They are…?"

Billie really had to resist rolling her eyes. "Well done, you. Yeah, you got her. Wouldn't go trying to woo her with that though, she'd likely hex you with a good old-fashioned two-by-four." Billie couldn't stand her, but she didn't hate her. That was reserved for her father. "And my family are... people?"

There was a silence at her statement. It was incredibly serious, but Billie's gaze was challenging. She caught his right eye twitch, and his mouth sputtering for words, so she lay her cigarette in the ashtray's groove, leaning forward so that she was perfectly on eye level. "Human. Romanian. Most of them are brunette."

His pipe was laid carefully to the side and he matched her stance, except he brought their faces about two inches apart. "You've always had a real problem with authority, Dragomir." He leaned even closer, and Billie couldn't control her reaction to his stench - all stale smoke and unpleasantly spicy. "One more time. What - are - you?"

When Billie smiled this time, the charm of it had been taken over by something wild. For all of Felix's talk, she could smell his nervousness; it was a prickly, stuffy sort of air coming off of him. "You know my father, Felix. What do you reckon he'd say about my blood status?"

A very skittish girl took that particular moment to bring their drinks over, giving Felix an excuse to look away from Billie, scribbling on the parchment with twitchy movements. Though the tension was almost choking, Billie seemed unfazed, and flashed the girl an easy grin in thanks for the drink. It wasn't until the waitress almost ran away from them, that Billie really took in the beverage's appearance and arched an eyebrow. "What in the sodding hell did you order?"

The drinks were served in a steel container shaped much like a fang, emitting bright green smoke, that seemed almost silky to the touch and spilled over the edges. The liquid itself was a light, brilliant golden color that constantly bubbled, and at times, those bubbles would actually form and float up from the cup, about the size of her fist.

He waved his hand dismissively, "Basilisk's Venom. Great grandfather Hollingberry always got 'em." Felix looked uncomfortable at this admission and cleared his throat, "Anyway, where're you living these days?"

"Great-great-great-great grandfather…" Billie mumbled, eyeing the old fashioned drink suspiciously, and without breaking her inspection, "Here and there." She looked up. "That's not exactly any of yours or the Ministry's damned business."

They knew her children were at Hogwarts, she was sure, but that was all they needed to know. Due to both her parents' families being from Eastern Europe, the Ministry in England didn't have much information on them, and they fancied it that way. Billie didn't care what they all did, as long as they continued to abide by the ground rules she had laid out for both of them regarding Mia and Adrian. Because of the events happening in Europe, Billie had dropped below the radar. She only stayed in contact with her children. To everyone else, she seemed to have disappeared, and Mia and Adrian weren't to say otherwise when questioned. Only that she was busy, she was taking care of some things.

That was all.

He was getting frustrated. "See here, Dragomir, you've--"

"You see here, Felix. This interview is over." Billie stood up, moving to the doors, as Felix scrambled to follow her. "This is supposed to be about my animagus status, right?" She turned all of a sudden, surprising him, and she took the moment to step into his personal space, voice lowering, "I'm an animagus. Panther." Meeting his eyes, the pupils of her own began to dilate, as the gray-green began to brighten into yellow. "Black panther. No distinguishing marks. Except…" Her fingers wrapped around the velvet of his robes, nails that had started to curve and sharpen dug into the skin at his hip, having pierced through the fabric already.

To outsiders, it likely just looked as if they were embracing goodbye, but if the pub patrons only cared enough to look closer, the tension in the man's body was unmistakable, as was the just barely tempered rage in the woman's. "I'm bigger than most normal panthers. And if you recall, Felix," The tip of her wand was already out and pressing up into his chest. "I am rather talented with my wand."

When Billie looked at him again, the yellow had faded, but the light in them was even more violent somehow. "Don't ever threaten my children. You're not to even think of them."

With a flick of the wrist, Billie's wand had disappeared underneath her coat, and the old door was already dragging roughly against the dirty ground as it closed behind her.




Roleplay Response Option II:

Billie never was particularly keen on wizarding clothing. Velvet robes and gigantic hats - they didn't suit her. They itched and the heaviness of them made her fidgety. She could perhaps handle a cloak now and again, but otherwise. She was good and comfortable sporting her Muggle wear. The other inhabitants of Diagon Alley on the other hand…

She adjusted the collar of her trench coat, attempting to ward of the falling snow. The dark wool of the coat was doing well on keeping her warm, so it wasn't that she was cold, only that she didn't feel like getting snow all down her backside. Shoving her hands in the pockets of her coat, Billie continued making her way down Diagon, twisting here and there occasionally, as it was rather crowded. On sheer instinct, she had gravitated to the edges of the bustling sea of wizards and witches. Billie had come through Diagon in order to pick up a few items she needed for a terribly finicky falcon. She hadn't been expecting the damned blizzard.

Making a face at the snow as if it personally offended her, Billie rolled her eyes behind dark glasses, feeling like she needed some sodding snow repellent charm on them. Sliding them off, she simply folded them and slipped them into an inner pocket, and was just about to duck into a shop to escape the snow downpour when her ears nearly perked upwards. It was faint, with all the stomping and crunching going on, but she definitely heard a mewing sound. Looking about through the snow, Billie squinted a little, eyes sharpening and then her head tilted in curiosity.

It was a kitten. In the middle of the cobblestone pathway, in its own little hole amongst the snow. The only reason Billie could see it was because of a large, curled fluffy tail flicking about. Billie was about to look around and see if the owner was nearby, when she noticed some batty looking witch frantically pushing a wooden cart. Right towards the feline. Billie cursed and her body was moving before she had time to think about it. She had to throw herself into a roll, but her boot slipped on the damned icy stone, and while she managed to grab the kitten up in the roll, she ended up landing on her back in the snow.

The kitten squeaked.

Blinking up at the snow strewn sky, Billie held the kitten up at eye level. It was an odd little creature, looking a mix of lion and wolf. It was sort of a dusky gray and all scruff. "Bit of a street rat, aren't you?" It licked her nose and Billie scowled. Sighing, she got to her feet, knocking some of the snow off of her with one hand, while the other held the kitten close to her body.

She just saved a kitten.

"Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!"

And just been ran over by an old man. That emitted gold sparkles from his general person.

Billie had shielded the kitten from the collision and braced herself, managing to hold her footing, but she looked like a damn Christmas tree.  Checking on the furball in her arms, it looked both startled and curious at the gold strands that were on its head, trying to bite at them. Shaking her head, Billie got a look at herself in one of the shop's windows, and rolled her eyes.

Last time she ever got Arawn some blasted fancy treats.




OTHER

How did you find us? Considering that was a good… eight? My math might be off, but yes, eight years-ish ago, I have absolutely no idea. Maybe Google? Maybe.

Daniel Marcus Reed

    (05/04/2014 at 02:08)
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Accepted and welcome back!
Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
And face it all together

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