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Topics - Orion Crowley

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Elsewhere Accepted / Orion Crowley | Elsewhere Adult
« on: 08/04/2015 at 17:35 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Orion Rigel Crowley
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Blood Status: Pureblood

Education: 
Hogwarts -- Ravenclaw, '36

Residence:
outskirts of Knockturn Alley

Occupation
Moulin Rouge security

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?
Just a job at the Moulin Rouge, approved by Lucile Hopland

Requested Magic Levels:
Adult characters have 32 starting levels to distribute across these four categories (less levels can be used if you so desire, but no more than 32). The number of levels on the lowest ability must be at least half of the highest ability.

If you want levels above the usual 32 total, or a significantly uneven distribution of starting levels, please fill out and submit the Special Request form here.

  • Charms: 10
  • Divination: 9
  • Transfiguration: 8
  • Summoning: 5
Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Just the wonderful Crowleys, approved by Geryon Crowley himself~

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Linc Litch & crew

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
"Hand me that wrench next to you, would ya?" Orion rumbled to the other man as he lay under the picked apart skeleton of a motorcycle. Despite their purebloodedness, he and his younger cousin Sevastian had grown a fondness for the muggle contraptions over the last few years... Amongst other things. They both had that rebel streak, the fondness for drinking and women... All things one could bond over easily enough.

Their connection was made even stronger thanks to their linage. Borovskys by nature; strong minded elitists, tight family bonds, surly demeanors, toes dipped in the dark if they weren't already fully submerged. But Orion was also a Crowley; of similar likelinesses, but less extreme, softened... Brittish. Orion's father, Malphas Crowley, had always seemed to be the rock in the family, the calmest. He didn't talk much, but when he did you knew it was important to listen.

That is, unless you were Orion.

Malphas, for as long as Orion could remember, had the pleasure of serving in the MOD and for as long as Orion could remember, he was always being  pushed into his father's shadow. His parents had never said it outright, but Orion could tell by the hints they would leave when they talked. There's a war going on... Your the oldest brother... What are you even doing anyway... Your fathers in it... Set an example.

Unfortunately for them, Orion had always been the nonconforming type. At Hogwarts he had been sorted into Ravenclaw, a house renown for their studious aptitudes, and even then you could find Orion more often that not killing time with some group of Slytherins or Gryffindors rather that having his nose in a book. He would go on to push away from his parents more than your average spawn, seeking entertainment, acceptance, and employment among the seedy Knockturn Alley happenings and people.

Recently, he found a job that wrapped all his interests up in one: security at the Moulin Rouge. Beautiful girls, shady dealings, liquor? He was down with that and, as it turned out, rather good at it too. On more than one occasion he had had to strong arm a handsy patron out. Sometimes he was even needed to throw a few quick wristed charms if a deal went south.

"Here," Orion heard the deep, Russian accented voice speak, and he reached out to take the handle of the almost forgotten wrench. If the two of them wanted to have the best bikes in town, they had some work to do.

Roleplay: 
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:

Option One -
Amelia Nixon was many things, but she was never a pushover reporter that people could just usher away with a busy shuffle past. She was dedicated and eager to cut to the very middle of the current political tensions because she was Amelia Nixon and her articles would most certainly become front page material.

“Sir, please! It’s for the Prophet, how do you feel-“

Another one brushed passed her, the shuffling busy masses making their way through Diagon Alley for the lunchtime rush. This had been the best possible time to get people, but none of them were giving her anything to go with.

Only momentarily discouraged, the short red headed lady took a seat on a nearby bench. Her quill resting in her left hand and her notepad ready in the opposite hand. Amelia pouted, tapping the quill against her leg as she scanned the waves of people for somebody - anybody - who looked like they had something to say.

She had been dreaming of her name in bold print, Amelia Nixon: The Source of Today’s Tomorrow. She had been dreaming of the larger office and the secretaries that would fetch her the morning coffee and fetch her anything she needed. The VIP interviews and the most exclusive press passes. But all Amelia had was a page seventeen piece on the rising number of frogs in London.

Hardened by a day of no success, the reporter stood up and started to trod off down the alley. A loose stone on the cobble path caught her heel, sending the distraught girl toppling down to the ground.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!” she yelled as she tried desperately to recover her shoe frantically in the middle of the Diagon Alley moving crowds.


Roleplay Response:
Orion Crowley was many things, but he was never the type to be outright rude to people unless the situation absolutely called for it. Like, say, if a customer at the club was getting a little too friendly with the girls. Then he would swoop in.

This crowd, however, apparently thought differently. Everyone in their highclass robes and suits were in a hurry to get their luncheon on and either clashed past Orion as if hoping he were some kind of ghost they could pass through, or gave him a wide berth in an attempt not to befoul themselves on his grease stained tee and slacks. Maybe he should have waited a few hours to get the parts he needed there in Diagon, or just changed his clothes.... But he had been excited. They were almost finished fixing up the bike and--

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!”

Orion adjusted the bags in his hands, swiveled slightly at the call to find the girl crawling about the streets. Well, that wouldn't do. Elbowing his way toward her with a few shouted Excuse me!'s, Orion roughly made his way through the crowd like one might do at a busy bar.

"I got it!" he called out, snatching up the shoe where it lay before angling his way over to her. She was cute, and he offered her a small smile as he held out his hand, "You hurt at all?"

OTHER
How did you find us? I followed the spiders

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