Winter Raine [READY!]

[winterraine]

†Winter - Korinne - Raine†

† Win, Rainy †

†General Information†

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Full Name: Raine, Winter Korinne [Core- inn)
Nicknames Win, Winny, Rin, Rinny, IceQueen, Frosty, Tundra, Raine, Rae, Rae-Rae. Rainy, Scorpion and other variations
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Race: Human
Orientation: Heterosexual, though ASEXUAL is the answer she would give if asked.
Health Problems: Where to begin? Physically, a Severe lack of pigmentation has left her eyes almost as photosensitive as a vampires, and she could also be accused of having a similar skin allergy to the sun. Mentally, Winter shows a few symptoms of Antisocial Personality Disorder. If she had a criminal record, she probably would be diagnosed with it. There also a few signs of an Obsessive compulsive personality. [/blockquote][/blockquote]

[winterraine]

†Personality†

Basic Personality:
How dreary of a subject. I am truly being forced to fill this out? Augh. As you wish. First thing first, I suppose. I’m really not a great friend of people. Period. I don’t care what race you are. I’m sure you expect me to tell you it’s because of experience. It isn’t. I just don’t actually like people much, I never really have. Now, there are a few things you really have to understand. I’m not autistic. I’m actually a few steps from being officially diagnosed with Antisocial Personality disorder. What is it? Precisely how idiotic are you? Fine, I shall elaborate further. While there is a fairly long list of symptoms, I shall list the ones that apply to me.

-Apparent lack of remorse or empathy; inability to care about hurting others
-Tendency to violate the boundaries and rights of others
-Inability to tolerate boredom
-Disregard for the safety of self or others
-Persistent attitude of irresponsibility and disregard for social rules, obligations, and norms (at least, the ones that won't get me killed)
-Internal difficulties with certain authority figures.
-Slightly narcisstic- what I do, I do well.
-I can be charming when I have to be, but it’s obviously superficial, requires a lot of effort on my part, and only lasts about an hour before I get tired of it.

I have a bit of a list when it comes to actual misconduct. In fact, if these activities were known, I probably would be diagnosed. I have used a weapon to harm people, though usually only as a last resort. I have set small fires to burn parts of buildings when I was younger. Mostly, out of boredom. I regularly con others, and I am quite a master at it if I do say so myself.

Let’s move away from my antisocial thought process, and onto my behavior. Number one- I have a slight obsessive compulsive personality, no to be confused with obsessive compulsive disorder. I know it’s only on letter, but please, do try to pay attention. It isn’t very apparent. Mostly, I am a bit of a perfectionist. I’m also a regular subscriber to the belief that if you want something done right, you do it yourself. I despise being unproductive. I tend to hoard money…and other things… Some people have compared me to a dragon. If you’ve seen my apartment you’d know why. It’s pretty organized. And when I notice that other people aren’t, it annoys me.

I’m usually perfectly in control. I don’t like being out of it, you see. So, I go to all levels of extremes to stay in it. Sometimes, that extends to..Ah… removing those who threaten it, and it isn’t their place. If I can get away with it, I will. Unless I am truly upset, I don’t take a lot of uncalculated risks. When I think someone is lying, I automatically give a halfhearted, sarcastic scoff. Sometimes I can control the volume, sometimes I cannot. It can be compared to a Tourette’s Syndrome tic in some ways.

Everyone has their softer spot, right? Well, with me, people call it Spring, or more likely, the Thaw. In truth, it’s best facilitated by alcohol. I avoid the stuff like the plague. I tend to dehydrate easily, so I usually have container of water on my person at all times. Other times, are when I’m literally, completely alone, or sick. I get sick easily, and hate every minute of it. So, I pretend I’m not. It’s pretty simple.

What do I like? Well, I’ll be honest with you. I like cats, large and small. I have about a dozen or so. And I love them all immensely. They automatically bring on a kind of spring. In fact, if someone put cameras in my house, it’d be pretty disturbing what they’d see. They’d see an entirely different Winter. Speaking of my name…

I have a few silly nicknames. Mostly, Winny. And Rinny. If you enjoy life, as miserable as this hole is, you’d BETTER not call me that. Or, if you are, you better be untouchable. Werewolves can get away with it, out of self preservation on my part, but if I can find a way to make their lives miserable, I’ll do it. In a heart beat. It’s so..frilly, and not me at all. I tolerate Rin, but you’d be best calling me winter, Win, if you must shorten it. I also answer quite well to my last name.

The opposite sex. Oh dear, we’ve come around to here. Firstly, it’s only the opposite sex that catches my eye. And I’ll practically never act on it. People ask my sexuality and my answer is a simple syllable. ‘a’. Some it takes longer to get it than others. I have a lot to worry about in my life, and putting up with a most likely messy man is not on my list. Besides, relationships and I don’t last very long. I tried them when I was younger. Usually, they ended up leaving because I scared them. Go figure. I prefer my men, suprisingly, to be exactly what I generally hate- domineering. How cliche can it get. My sister says its me playing hard to get, because I want them to work for me. Not sure whether she really gets it or not...

I dislike sunlight, though it isn't for exactly the same reason vampires- ... alright, so it's an incredibly similar reason vampires do. I'm an albino. Yes, Yes, get over it. My albinism is essentially a lack of pigment. All over. This might sound like it is... "cool" to you. I assure you, it's rather a bit of a curse. Similar to how vampires cannot walk the daylight, I must take careful measures. Sunblock mostly. Considering I hate the smell of sunblock, I'm strongly in favor of doing nothing in the daytime if I can help it. And if I can, I'll avoid the sunbloack if I can. Covering up, even in the summer, umbrellas...whatever. The daylight hours from 11 to 4 are the worst times for me to be out.

Alright, so... I suppose you want a few secrets now... Not quite yet. Firstly, I really dislike dogs. Part of this, I suppose comes from the fact that Werewolves rule London. I don't like them, and be extension I don't trust canine things. Also, since I keep cats, the feeling is usually mutual. I'll be honest here. If a dog doesn't move immediately as I appraoch I WILL kick it out of my way. Period.

This whole mess is jsut amazingly stressful. I hate playing the underfiddle to these species JUST because they've got some genetic mutations. I have genetic mutations, and I don't lord myself ove-... well, alright, I do, but it has NOTHING to do with my mutation. However, I'm well aware of the fact that disobeyign that particular social norm could very easily lead to death. So, on the outside, I keep my cold as ice exterior. On the inside, it's raging cold. It's how I survive. I'm quite glad no one here can read minds, Or they would have killed me on charges of...well, whatever. I don't think they need charges.

I'm a big fan of plotting stuff. I'm not usually a fan of anything. But I really like strategy and its attendant intricacies. It's a bit of an addiction. Alright, definitely an addiction. I like being in charge, and I like having all the information. One of my biggest annoyances is not knowing what is going on. I HATE being in the dark. Not literally, but figuratively. I have been that way since I was a kid, really.

Alright, fine, you wanted my secrets. If you share these, I'll strangle you. Or hire someone to. Either way... I like cooking. I'm not really much of a housekeeper. Things are organized because I'm anal. However, I take great pride in my cooking. I even go so far as to enjoy it. It is one thing that entirely relaxes me. I'm entirely different when I'm cooking, (and real cooking, not microwave burritos) than I am any other time. People don't usually recognize me, actually.

And, this is less of a secret, and more of an indulgence. I love to be pampered and luxury in general. If I'm stressed, I'm either cooking, beating at a punching bag, or, I book a day at the spa. Depends on how much time I have. I don't take much care of my appearance, once you get past staying professional. But it's incredibly relaxing. I also love luxury items. It isn't necessarily easy to get them, but I love them.

Any last few notes here... Did I mention an addiction to information? It could amost be used to control me. If someone had a really juicy bit that I really wanted, I might be willing to break a few, not lifethreatening rules to get it. I have to watch my step, you know.

When I'm angry, I'm angry, but its more of a really sedate, inwardly fuming anger, as compared to a raging, fiery ire. You can tell. My feautres grow tense instead of merely emotionless. It's in my body language. I become even more rigid than usual, and my ice three times as cold. I do have quite a temper, as it turns out, but my self control overrides it. Normally.

Another secret addiction. I like gambling, particularly cards games. I'm a card counter, sometimes. I love the rush of the strategy. If, I could find a way to control the luck aspect... I would own this game. I'm not above cheating, sometimes. And when I do it, I do it. Good luck catching me. I'm pretty sneaky.

Beneath it All

The secrets beneaththe mask? I'm actually rather emotional, really. I'm careful not to let my emotions get away with me though. It could cost me my life. I'm not going to tell you I'm really quite shy. That's be a lie, and oh so too perfect. No, this is me. I'm just... keeping myself firmly behind a wall of glass. Normally, I prefer to be a mystery, it makes me feel safer. If people started find out things about me..I'd, probably have them killed. No joke. Unless they were higher up in the position than I. I suppose you could say on the inside, I'm suspicious, insecure, supersitious in some ways, and well...that's about the only differences. Oh yes, and tempermental. Very tempermental. I'm also a sadist, in a few ways. I acknowledge that pain garners results, and I like results. It's very simple. I MIGHT take too much pleasure in it sometimes. Sometimes. My methods are my onw. If you are discovering them, you are probably tasting them. But this isn't really the secret part. The secret part is there might be a tiny bit of masochist wanting to come out and play. I'm not sure, but the shrink my sister talked to said... Ah... nevermind. I don't like shrinks.

Likes:
† Proving her worth
† Cats
† Luxury
† Scaring people
† Returning favors (I hate being in debt, and after this lovely treatment I recieve in this city, on virtue of being HUMAN, I'm all too glad to make their life a living Tartarus, as they have mine. Obviously this is positive and negative)
† Planning things out.
† People listening to her

Hates:
† Being called Winny or Rinny
† Being dehydrated
† Being the underdog (Yes, I put up with it. No, I don't like it)
† Losing/Failing
† Dogs. Period.
† Annoying People
† Not knowing what's going on
† Not being in control
† Sloppy jobs/people
† Cars (Doesn't trust them not to blow up on her)
† People lying to me
† People getting themselves killed when she still needs them

Talents:
† Forgery
† Conning people in general
† IDing things, particularly weapons, ingredients, and luxury items
† Cooking, especially for vampires
† Not getting caught
† Chess
† Telling when people are lying
† Interpreting Information
† Strategizing
† Convincing people to help her (if she can do it in about an hour)
† Keeping her cool in a tight situation.
† Gambling
† A very efficient sadist

Habits:
† Cooking when stressed, especially desserts
† Playing with people's minds when she can.
† Pursing her lips when she's displeased.
† Wearing sunglasses, and avoiding the daylight.
† Indulging herself when she can.
† Plotting random things in her mind, especially when bored.
† Keeping stuff around, even when it doesn't seem very useful
† Taking risks that are non life threatening.
† Hoarding money for future splurges
† Sniping at people viewed as idiots.
† Scaring off her sister's boyfriends
† Answering in monosyllables when possible.
† Taking frustrations out on fencing partners and boxing bags
† Getting out of social situations as soon as possible

†Appearance:†

Skin Color: Pale
Hair Color: White. Complete lack of pigmentation, unless I dye it. When I do, it is usually blonde, or perhaps even ocassionally a more vibrant colour. After all, it'll stick. Depends on my cover.
Eye Color: Pale violet.
Build: Lean, not really athletic, though I do go to the gym periodically, mostly to train, not for the excercise.
Piercing/Scars/Tattoos: alright, secret phobia. Needles. So, no tats, no piercings, besides my ears. Probably why I'm scared of them now. I have few nicks here and there, but for the most part, I only have one notable scar. It's on my upper arm, usually well disguised by my clothes. It's a bit long, four streaks, and entirely my fault. I accidently kicked a small werewolf out of my way, thinking it was a stubborn dog. Luckily, it was pretty young. I got lashed out at, but since it was only a young one, I was able to convince it to forget the enocunter. Steak and candy saved my life.
Choice of Clothing: My most normal attire is a finely tailored, pinstripe ladies pantsuit. In black, grey, or cadet blue. Professional, elegant, and yes, I do usually wear it all the time outside of the house. If I'm cooking, I'll wear more vasual attire. Usually a nice v-neck sweater, and jeans of varying tightness. I don't beleive in sweats. Just loose pajama pants. At night, I'll wear more feminine things. Sometimes. Other nights, I sleep in my casual clothes. I'm also rarely ever seen without a water bottle on my person. I prefer shades of blue, grey, black, and white for colouring.

I rarely wear heels outside of formal occasions, and though I'm seen in boots sometimes, I'm usually in a nice pair of dressy flats. Maybe barefoot, and maybe in a luxury pair of sneakers.
Other: I'm five foot five and 6/8ths of an inch tall. Yes, I've measured. Weight wise, I weigh a little over 110.

Her family crest is usually seen on her bag, if she has it , or on her suits. It's usually on her person somewhere.

Usually wearing this either around her neck, or around her wrist. It's the source of her nickname Scorpion

[winterraine]

†History:†

History: I can tell by the look in your eye you have high expectations. Or, perhaps more accurately low expectations. You’ve seen my personality. I’m as icy as my name suggests, somewhat immoral, and pretty much, not a nice person. In public, I put forth every effort to stay as emotionless as possible, unless there is cause to change that behavior temporarily. So now you are wondering what it is that could drive a person to such a coldhearted façade. Abuse perhaps? Slavery to a werewolf? Killing someone? Watching someone be killed? Oh no, then it’d have to be Rape? Incest?

Well, I am sorry to disappoint. As dark as the world surrounding me is, why would I need further macabre to taint me?

At the beginning then, shall we?

Part 1- Family Background

Raine. That’s my family name. Three hundred years ago, this name was one that was whispered in the back alleys of Liverpool. The city had just barely been granted just that- the title of city. 1880, they finally acknowledged it. However, about a decade or so before the government got its rear in gear and made it official, it had been showing all the signs of it. Tourism, arts, a center of all that was beautiful, and fair. A perfectly upstanding town.

Under the sun.

Under the moon’s silvery light, a much darker Liverpool existed. As in all cities. It’s a rite of passage. You know the title of city is coming once the crime takes an upswing. It’s just a fact. In this case, it was what one could call a family affair. Organized theft mostly. Sitting at the head of this, the very blossoming of organized crime in Liverpool, was Thomas Raine. The Raine family had moved here from Ireland under the heavy hand potato Famine. He wasn’t a prominent citizen- in fact, he ran a book shop.

That’s how all this started. Books. Or rather, off the books. Races were prominent. Gambling on them and other things was prominent. Thomas Raine was a talented gambler. He was also very organized, well connected, under the radar, and was quickly in over what could be his head- People owed him money, and were willing to kill him to forgive the debts. More appropriately, his wife, seeing that things were about to get out of hand, and that Raine could very well lose his life slammed her kitchen knife down, whirled upon her husband and pointed out the door. The phrase she used after this has been adopted as the Raine family motto. “If you are going to do this, Thomas, by Jove you will do it right, and do it all the way!

So, that’s how it all got started. Gambling turned into book keeping. More reliable in a way- you see, he was more of a money holder in this case. Secondarily, he hired thugs. A dangerous business as they were more likely to turn on him than not. It was his son Edward that brought it into full fledged organized crime status. Edward began using the Liverpool port and even the roads on land to smuggle things in. Shortly, the family Raine owned the Liverpool underground. It grew larger, encompassing more people and more territory, product wise. Weapons became a favorite by 1920, and from then on Raines have been well trained in weapons, and a few hand to hand fighting techniques- necessary evils if you wish not to be killed.

Other smaller organizations popped up with an intent to slaughter the established Raines. However, because it was mostly kept a family business, there weren’t many ways to get inside and work out. You see, the Irish have strong bonds of family loyalty, similar to the Scottish. In fact, even the modern Raine’s bear a family crest on either their person or at least part of their apparel. Pride and all. The spelling of their name has been changed a few times. You’d be surprised how well that can through your duller enemies off. You know, the strong tall type with little grey matter in between the ears?

Alas, all good things must come to an end. By 2010, the Raine family was actually in business with other parts of Europe, They were just starting to step up from small time gangs to what could be called an actual mafia. The Raine head at the time, Oriole Raine, was quite content. She was developing more solid contacts in London, and they were thinking of opening up a small headquarters. By 2019, the new headquarters was complete.

And, then, of course, the world as all knew it came to an end. Supernatural creatures of the night came out of every corner and cranny. Liverpool was no exception. With werewolves in the ranks of their rivals (and of cours,e none in their own) the Raine family essentially faced two options. Death, or leaving their long established base and move to the epicenter of chaos. The latter was chosen. And so the Raine family, somewhat ruined, definitely set back, smuggled their brood into London, to try to begin again. The odds weren’t really good. However, hopefully, they could keep a little bit of business around to supplement their existence in this new, lower existence.


Part Two- More Personal History

Now I’m going to move on, jumping over a century and a half or so. 2168 is the year my parents got married. Jonathan Raine, and Annika Hart, became Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Raine. He was still trying to eke out a living on the back streets. You see ,as soon as the Izan formed, business for a small time black market runner diminished. There’s still some, mostly those who don’t want the association with the Izan that reach out for Raine business. Werewolves included, though they more stole, than paid any decent price. Sometimes they paid full price but usually below. Now, something you need to understand. Is that though the Irish blood is now almost 14 generations back, the red hair gene is particularly running strong. Blondes rarely occur in our family, as most of our members ten to marry brunettes or other red heads. Annika, however, was blonde, who dyed her hair brunette. The truth didn’t come out until after the wedding. Too late then, they were already in love.

The first child they had was named Summer Leyanne Raine. She was born on the summer solistice, and is bubbly, though her red hair had natural blonde streaks, she was mostly all Irish in temperament. Though she is pretty placid when left to her own devices, the next year, another child was born. August Daemien Rain. This one had purely dark hair, except for, oddly enough, a vibrant red streak in his hair. Lucky dog. There was a gap between. He was born in August obviously. I don’t know why they named him that, but at least it isn’t June or July. At least August is respectable.

And finally, we come to my sister and I. We’re non-identical dizygotic twins. We’re not sure how it happened, but when I was born (first, if you must know) they thought I was like dying or something. I was really pale, and the first thing they did was check to see if I had fangs, even though both my parents are human. My grandfather on my mother’s side is a vampire, but I’m not sure how that meshes with me. Either way, it was shortly discovered that I was albino. Especially once my dearest sister Willow came out with a flaming red head of hair. Obviously, there was no pigment malfunction there. What day were we born? October 31st. That makes us both Scorpios, born in the year of 2174.

I know you’re probably still looking for the reason why I’m such a cold hearted, emotionless witch. Well, you know how it is with twins. Normally to distinguish themselves from one another they have polar opposite personalities Well, people didn’t have a problem identifying us, but we still grew dynamically apart. Though we both were of a similar basic personality, it would appear to most people that not only did Willow Chrystine Raine get all the colour, she also got the emotion.

This is untrue. Both of us are incredibly emotional. However, Willow is of the mind that her energy and emotion are reasons why people like her. This is true, but there’s a good reason I don’t follow her philosophy. If I were to do that, I would have been killed by now. You see, Willow…is a pacifist. She doesn’t believe in fighting (needless to say, the real family business is not her cup of tea) She refused all training ,even self defense. I however, am actually rather violent. You may or may not have come to this conclusion on you own by now.

When I was twelve on the way back from the grocery store, I was in my usual mood of kicking dogs out of my way, and had the misfortune of kicking a juvenile werewolf. It must have been its first shift or something. In either case, it took a long swipe at me. I still bear the scars, a filmy pale just slightly paler than I usually am. The only reason it didn’t finish me off is the steak in my spilled back was more entertaining. I got up and ran. Just ran. About two years later, as I was entering secondary school, My mouth began running, and I recived another severe beating. One of the junior age vampires nearly drained me dry then. Even talked about turning me first to listen to me scream. (Willow afterwards wished she’d been there to offer her neck instead)

That’s about as dark as my life gets. A more level headed werewolf in charge intervened, (he didn’t want to clean up the mess, I bet) and I was spared. Again. Sheer luck. This was when the emotionless exterior started. It’s a life preserving mechanism, because my true personality would have gotten me killed ages ago.

More about my twin. Her fondest desire is to become a vampire. It has been since we were six. I wanted to be the beautiful five six supermodel with bright red hair, green eyes and the slinky red and black dress (with a crossbow, a semiautomatic gun, and a saber at her side[My sister fits the first part of the description. If it weren’t for that albino gene…) and she wanted to be a sexy red headed vampire. With all her heart. She’s half way there. I’ve spent most of my life trying to convince her how bad of an idea that is. The odds that she’ll survive the turning process are not good. And the inconveniences… she’s still set on it. When we were five, we started training that would continue through our lives. . Or rather, I did, because at the age of seven, Willow decided she was going to be a pacifist. I love her, but she’s a dolt sometimes. We are trained in guns, knives, and various hand to hand combat techniques. For fun, we do fencing. It’s fairly impractical now, but it’s still fun to do.

Together, however, we still did a lot. For one, she and I were both high attracted by the arts of divination. I prefer astrology, while Willow prefers tarot cards, but neither of us can handle the Ouija boards without freaking out. When we were 16, a vampire moved in with us. He was actually a cousin of ours, but we all learned how to feed vampire properly. As a result, I have a wide range of appealing meals for vampires besides myself. My sister does desserts better, but I can make blood into any amount of appealing dishes. As well as cooking for –normal- people.

As it turns out, summer, who was supposed to inherit the business had no interest in it. In fact, the girl now works under high end fashion designer, and is working her way up. She practically ignores us now, or at least the business. August, or Dae as he normally goes by, is preparing to take over. Willow, as I said is a pacifist. She’s a librarian, and a starving artist. Who’s still trying to get turned into a vampire. Idiot girl.

And me? I picked up with the family business for a while as soon as I could. I preferred to run weapons, or gather information. Or both. I was the second in command essentially, once my brother took over. Before long, word was out in the intelligence circles about an albino with a talent for digging, extracting, interpretation and trap setting. At my weekly fencing regime, a few of the Izan officials came. Humans, probably to not scare me away. They said they could use a talented operative. I told them I already had an employer and resumed my match. Before I knew it, one had already grabbed a foil and had pointed it straight at me. Not many people can match me in the epee. Or the saber. So, I trounced him in a trice. And he could have left at that, but instead, he popped the end off it. The safety tip.

I sent him to the emergency room. Once I’m angered, it’s hard to stop me. He sliced a hole in my FAVORITE uniform. The one that had my family crest and everything. The prat went to the hospital with the letter N. O. inscribed on his back by the time I was done with him. I couldn’t help myself he brought out the sadist in me.

The Izan don’t like being told no. So this time, they sent someone with more skill. I lost this time, and on pain of my life I made a switch. What they wanted this time was the cooperation of the Raine family. I called my brother, and explained the situation, while batting the sharpened point away from my neck. Whoever was behind that mask was as much of a sadist as I ever was. Judging by the tension in my voice, Dae gave his permission and with a nod and a final click, I asked where they wanted me, if I needed to sign anything, and if they’d pay for the uniform that was damaged by their employee.

I didn’t start at the bottom. I started somewhere in the middle finally. Through lever work, and careful manipulation, I rose through the ranks. I doubled as a weapons dealer sometimes. But I was very efficient at my job. The old head of Intel was fading fast. You see, his methods were highly outdated. Badly so. Not to mention age wise…lets just say, he was starting to go senile. It happens to vampires, after a couple centuries or so of living. Either they go crazy, or so I’ve heard, or they get stronger. This one seemed to be going south. While out temporarily on a field task, he got in the line of fire.

No, it wasn’t my doing.

Yes, I got his job.

It was an honour, and a great responsibility. I love this position. It also makes it easier for me to keep tabs on Willow. Every time on of her boyfriends even thinks about turning her, he’ll get a call. Threatening to expose his secrets if he doesn’t leave town. In short, Willow’s serious boyfriends always leave. Before they manage to drain her and let her change or die. I won’t permit it. If I ever lost her, I wouldn’t know what to do. So, I keep a man on her at all times. Not literally.

About my personal life, as far as I’m concerned, that would be my family and nothing else. I don’t have relationships. I tried, once when I was younger, with a human. He was an idiot who didn’t understand my behavior, and wasn’t willing to learn. So, he left. I didn’t miss him. And now? I don’t even try. It’s not worth the bother. I had someone come onto me once. Someone I was trying to get information from. I shot him with a vial from the drugs section, and let him wake up later, after spilling his secrets to me. He probably believes he had the time of his life. Hallucinogens are rather useful for that. Interpret these as you will. Because yes, this means I may not mentally be innocent, but physically yes. Get over it.



Mother/Father: Annika Hart & Jonathan Raine (46, 44, respectfully)
Siblings: Summer Ariat (nee Raine) (29), August [Dae] Raine (26), Willow Raine (Twin, 23)
Offspring: None.
Other:

[winterraine]

†RP example:†

One of my favorite posts ever written, Character, Sabine Dragonetti; 'Verse, Harry Potter; Actual location; [url=http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/Series-related/Miscellaneous%20Role%20Play/of-magic-and-marauders-new-thread/t.50060335_39/#39]GaiaOnline.[/url] I didn't copy the posting style, as I probably won't use on here, and Sabine's isn't my best. The liners look...awkward. Anyway, enjoy a bit of insane Gryffindor.

Step beat, Step beat. Click clack, tip tap. Step one and two, three and four. That was it. Right there. One, two, three four… What erupted was a musical tone of notes and a stream of sound. Cascading all around in her head, caressing every corner of her brain. It was enlightening, and the currently violet haired female was quickly finding herself caught up in the rush, swaying back and forth, one and two, three and four, one and ah, two and e. Hair swished, lights fluttered on and off on and off with each new movement, the ground beneath her rear was slowly coming into feeling again. Wait? What?

The dream shattered and to the voice of the Headmistress solemnly proclaiming ill news, Dragonetti stirred into something that actually seemed to resemble wakefulness.Of course, the actual waking part wouldn’t come for a few more seconds or so, unless soemthign drastic-.

Something drastic happened. The Italian girl bolted upright immediately. Did it have to do with what was said? Perhaps in a roundabout way. Was she worried about the Hufflepuff. Er… minorly. Silly little twelve year old probably simply wandered off into some forbidden corridor and got eaten by the three headed dog she’d heard hid in the castle still. Or was that rumor. She wasn’t worried. The same rumor also said that the dog, like most beasts, could be lulled to sleep with music, and kept calm. Apparently three boneheaded Gryffindors had done it.

Oh… wait… hey, wasn’t she a Gryffindor? Maybe it was a good thing these bleary wonderings stayed trapped inside the brass shell that contained and reverberated some of the things she said before she said them. Note the word, some. Other things would simply just slide right out of her mouth and greet the open air without even being bidden to sound-

“Well. That’s what all this was about?”

Perhaps, from a Gryffindor, brave and proud this seemed careless. Callous maybe. But lets keep in mind, this was a Gryffindor who had just been awakened by droll sounding news. If you listened to people talk, some kind of chaos struck with every generation that came to Hogwarts. Some, of course, are more dire than others. Most notable are the ones that seem to include death. Another item to remember when one tries to understand the response from the Dragon of Gryffindor is just that- perhaps it wasn’t very commonly known, but like others before her, she’d been asked not to be put in Slytherin. Why? Because she’d heard they didn’t like muggle borns. And this creature who was eyeing a roll suspiciously, as tapered musicians fingers walked their way across the smooth wood, almost as if stalking the fluffy delightful pastry- and who wanted to be in a house where they would hate you based on what you were. The edge of the bowl edged close as Sabine hunkered down to be at eyelevel with fingertips, azure eyes quite wide on moment and narrowed the next. It was certainly better to avoid being miserable if at all possible, so it wasn’t Slytherin. The hat had mused over to itself before calling out-

POUNCE!

“Gotcha! Hmm hm hmm hm hmm~.” She whirred delightedly to herself as she nibbled on the not so sweet pastry, wishing the jam wasn’t so far away. Apparently even magical tables couldn’t please everyone at once. Shame. What good was magic then, right? Whatever she’d been thinking about before had petered out of her mind. Ah well. Alls well that ends well. Supposing of course, there had been a beginning to end at, or that there wasn’t a suspiciously well placed coda endlessly cycling though beats and pitches. Ugh, were those Quidditch terms? Not quite. But eerily close for the comfort of the firmly anit-flying-around-on-enchanted-twig-too-high-in-the-air-for-any-safety-protocol-person-mabob-to-ever-sell-insurance-to…. Yeah, that was why Sabine could go home every summer and not attempt to ride the family broom around the house, effectively scaring the wits out of the neighbors more than any decibel of music ever could. Or style for that matter.

The people of whatever neighborhood the Dragonettis resided in eventually discovered that whatever music came from the household was some level of good, even if it wasn’t their taste for a bit. Sometimes they’d get in a certain funk, and stick to the same style for weeks on end. This was rare. Sabine turned around to lean against the table lazily. Alright, so maybe she’d fallen asleep in the Great Hall…. After classes were out for the day. Pssh, no biggie. She’d been here right. Except for the miraculous crick in her back, the ache in her neck, and what felt eerily like the print of her bracelet on her cheek, all was well and good.

On the professional, academic, side of the spectrum, at least she hadn’t missed the meeting. Her fun, much less rigid, and generally more entertaining side purported that the only positive thing about –making- the meeting was dinner was early. Or was it? That would require a bit more focus than she currently had at her disposal. After all, the sleepy sand was crumbling out of her eyes now, and fresh again, she could hear the rhythm of her heart. Cla thump, rarara thump. Irregular again. There was probably something unhealthy about that. Ah well. She fished inside the pocket of her jeans- yes, jeans- and pulled out her beloved purple grape shaded iPod. Her precious, her sanity here in this all too silent world. Regrettably, as the button moved into the on position, only a blue fuzzy met her. The exasperated gasp rose at her knees and began its way up to her chin, and was almost out her mouth out of sheer need for a noise beyond mutters. She was quite relieved when…Twas Gia indeed who came storming up ranting at. Blue eyes lashed over on the tail of Gia’s words with a grin, subtly flipping her hair over her shoulder, striped scarf dangling from the tip of the surprisingly sedate braid.

At least, one could say, she had the decency to wait until after Gia left to speak, rising to her feet and sidling up, gurgling the little bit of bitter taste in her mouth down. My what had she missed? “James, James, Jaaaames.” She trilled softly as she flounced by, her jacket , cleverly concocted from the back to look exactly like robes, though one could see the sleeves were merely strips of fabric that looped around her wrists on a thin string, dangling like those sleeves would. Dangly sleeves were fun. The rest of it was not. So, from the back she appeared an obedient servant. She was simply very careful to be sure her back never quit facing the high table at events like this. Though now doubt little Watkins Houdini was keeping them on their toes well enough they wouldn’t be looking at her. And if they did, she’d simply wrap her “robe” around her as best as possibly, smile a carefully crafted vacant smile, and roll a smoke bomb underneath the Hufflepuff table. Slytherin if she could make it.

“Il capofila, il mio amico. Tis always the Ringleaders they question first, no? Best of luck with the interrogators, Jamie. If you need antidote to Veritaserum, just let me know, sì?”

Just because she was an import into this world didn’t mean in the years she’d been here she hadn’t picked up fast. For one, Sabine was immune to culture shock. Perhaps, that would explain why others experienced it so profoundly around her. Those years in America had done the worst to her perhaps. A Sabine Dragonetti stepped by, she reached out to ruffle her ex’s hair, mostly just to tick Bella off in the most innocent way possible. Then again, perhaps it was to wait for that grimace from James that she didn’t stop to see. If that was it, well oops. And perhaps, it was because she could. She stepped past the boy’s brother with a chuckle, straightening his collar instead. Albus would merely duck the ruffle. “Cheer up boy. ‘Twas only a Hufflepuff.”

And with that? With that Sabine almost trounced off. It might have been a whole lot happier if her music hadn’t been –broken-. But then again, she wouldn’t be leaving her table if that were the case. First step first. The wheels began a turning, as she watched Trelawney shuffle Alex off. As she passed, going after the teacher,she made a point to give the boy’s hair a quick tug, dropping a chocolate frog down his hood. Even if he didn’t care about the hair, Alex had a nose for food. And who could turn down a treat? Sabine caught up to the aging Divination professor, with a mischievous look of devotion. It was difficult face to master, if one isn’t devious and pretending to be studies at once. Divination, however, was something that Sabine not only understood, but excelled at actually. She and Trelawney were on good terms. Especially when Sabine helped her acquire a few bottle of sherry and firewhiskey now and then.

“Professor Trelawney!”

“Ah, my child. One of the gifted few. Netti…”

“Sabine will do m’am. I was wondering if I could have a moment at the Ravenclaw table. I promised to show Matty that new technique you taught me.”

“Of course. Knowledge, is the key to understanding, is it not. Share away.” Such an absent minded dotty witch. But, perhaps an endearing one for it. Sabine trounced over to the table itself, giving Felicia-May a wave as she pointed her attention to the East Indian’s head, preparing for the jump. In a few more steps, she gave the tiniest of springs and landed with an arm draped around Ravi’s shoulder.

“That was scarily easy. Anyway, Ravi, my compagno, my sitar giocatore. My genius, my saviour, my debtor…” She could have gone on for a while perhaps, but wisely cut it short. “It broke. Again. It is this, this… heavy atmosphere of magic. Every few weeks it goes kaput on me! At least this time, it wasn’t in the middle of a song! Will you fix it Ravi?” Of course he would. “Thank you, Ravi! You are a lifesaver.”

The Ravenclaw table was one of her favorite haunts that was for sure. She’d give the Hufflepuff table a glance, but..hadn’t she seen Dom earlier when she was sweeping idly. She couldn’t see him now, the angel with far too much modesty for his own good. However, back to her smart ones. Owen and Nathan, coming in a pair as always. And, as always, difficult to crack.But, it wouldn’t stop her.

“Nathan, Owen, it is a pleasure to see you two again. Perhaps you enjoyed the weather today. The rain is infinitely better than the sun, no?” She gave a grin, shaking her head. “Standing in the rain, however, won’t erase the smell of cigarette smoke from you, Owen, dear. However, if you’d like I could do something about it.” A wink, perhaps not so subtle. Nathan howeve,r she turned a happy eye too, fingering a short lock of hair briefly. “You should grow it out a bit longer, Nathan. It would suit your brooding,sultry behavior a bit better, no?” Now where was that darling…

“Finch~ dearest, how are you doing today?” Flirting with that one did little good, so, in word she settled with that, dashing over to give the boy a quick, delighted friendly hug. “You’re too good at hiding, little one.” No harm intended, truly. At last, her eyes sough another blonde, and finding him, sidled up behind, sliding both arms around him from the back, pecking his cheek quickly, purring out her sentence. “Matty, my precious, did you come in late? You look lost. Just like the little Hufflepuff, Watkins, Eddy I believe. Now why would one name their child after a tidal movement? British customs, I’m afraid I’ll never understand.” Reluctantly, the Gryffindor girl released the younger boy (not that –that- fact bothered her any, and took a seat next to him.

Did she look right at home? In a way, perhaps. Mostly because she certainly didn’t seem to be moving anytime soon. It was her game here, wasn’t it? She got permission to be here from Trelawney, spacey as the lady seemed nowadays. “Did anyone know the poor little puffball? I seem to recall him. Vaguely Hopefully he didn’t run into that three headed dog…” Did she sound duly worried about the three headed dog. Not at all. Music, after all, clams that savage beast. Her foot was tapping out a rhythm already, now that she was settled, and was that a Muggle pen in her hand, doing the same, tapping out a beat in time?

Why shouldn’t it be? This was Sabine Dragonetti. If she was silent, she was dead. Even dying, she would be making some kind of noise, at least in her head, or subconsciously even asleep with her foot.

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†Let's talk about you:†

Name: Atiri (I also answer to Thief)
Other Characters: None.
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[AKREE]

Accepted
y'know how much I like thi8s bio, the history and personality are so great and detailed P: I already love the idea of Winter being a head! Happy role playing!