Constantin, Dragos Cassius

[Dragos Cassius Constantin]

CONSTANTIN, DRAGOS CASSIUS

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“IN REAL LIFE, THE HARDEST ASPECT OF THE BATTLE BETWEEN GOOD AND EVIL IS DETERMINING WHICH IS WHICH.”[/font][/center]
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The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with caution.

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- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone[/color][/size]
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FULL NAME. Dragos Cassius Alexandru Fane Constantin of Lazarovici-Diaconscu
NICKNAMES. None that he is aware of.
BIRTHDATE. October 30th
AGE 95 years of age
BLOOD A Vampire with the magic gene.
POSITION DESIRED Employee at Gladrags Wizardwear
CANON OR ORIGINAL? Original

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It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

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- Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets[/color][/size]
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HAIR&EYES There once was a time when the essence of life was present within young Dragos Constantin. His cheeks were flush with blood, his eyes glimmering with life and the curiosity a child should have. He was a fair boy with midnight brown hair that grew in lofty curls to his shoulders, his lips full and that of rose peddles.

However, he has changed much since then and simply over night. A fair boy has since become an man as pale as the face of the very moon. His hair has been cut short and sharp, his lips without its former color just as his sunken cheeks. He has the likeness of a lifeless stone carving with aquamarine pressed into his face.
HEIGHT&WEIGHT Dragos stands at a profound height of 6' 3" and it is assumed he weighs about 162 lbs or more.
FACE CLAIM Simon Kotyk

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I don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me.

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- Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban [/color][/size]
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WAND Dragos does not use a wand, but he is able to cast some forms of magic. Mostly blood magic.
LIKES

• Like many vampires, he is fond of beautiful young ladies.
  
• Blood
  
• Power
  
• The chase
  
• Orchestrated musical compositions (classical and modern)
  
• The violin
  
• The touch of warm, human flesh
  
• The colors black and red

DISLIKES

• Weakness
  
• Useless whining
  
• Most authority (beyond that of Lithium)
  
• Like most vampires, garlic
  
• Unimaginative and tactless hunters
  
• Empty threats
  
• Pretenders and wannabes

BOGGART As a well concealed fear, perhaps only in the presence of a boggart would anyone ever discover his deep rooted fear: fire. It is not the petite fire of the candle wick nor the warm and comforting kindling in the fireplace, but of raging wild fire that burns with destruction and without mercy.
MIRROR OF ERISED Many years have long since passed on this earth, though one thing remains stagnant, and that is the thirst. Reflected within the mirror is himself with blood on his lips and staining his hands. It drips and pools and beckons and remains one thing he always desires most of all.
PATRONUS Dragos can not conjure a patronus. Or rather it is the fact that he has never tried since he has never met an instance in which he had to. He may have a couple of sorrows, but he has died once already and has since then become quite hard to catch. If he were to somehow be able to conjure a patronus, it would take the form of a bat.
PERSONALITY

The Train Ride

Mysterious. Yes, I believe that is the word that best describes the young man who sits across from me. I would say it has been little over an hour since we've left the station and I've only gotten a 'good evening' out of him. The intonation spoke of Romania, however. I pride myself on my deductive reasoning, you could say, and I know a Romanian when I hear him.

I soon begin to wonder, then, what a Romanian man was doing in the Isles. He looks a tad ill for travel, if you ask me. Perhaps he is motion sick? Maybe his pale skin was just contrasting so greatly against his black trench?

It was then that he noticed me, or rather acknowledged me. This whole time, his eyes were closed, but now they were open and a fierce blue like the burn of ice or cut aquamarine stone. He said nothing to me, but the pressure of his fierce gaze bore down upon me and I shrank back into my seat in response.

He asked if I had a question. By the tone of his voice, I could not decide if this was a snide comment or born of true curiosity. I could tell, however, that he may not appreciate my prying. He seemed to be a private man. The straight line formed by his lips indicated that there may be things he was not willing to tell.

"Nothing," I said to him, cringing as my voice cracked.

And we never exchanged another word for the rest of the trip. I was only content in watching as he seemed to sit with his eyes closed, but he never slept. He only sat silently, patiently waiting to arrive to his destination.

When his stop came, he pulled one black suitcase from the compartment and left with an 'enjoy your travels' tossed over his shoulder.

Yes. Mysterious is the word I would use for the young man who left me there to forever be plagued by the vision of his face. Even now I still think about him. I never got his name...

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Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.

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- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire[/color][/size]
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BIRTHPLACE Translyvania, Romania
CHILDREN None
PARENTS

SIBLINGS None
OTHER Many deceased family members.

Dragos Cassius Alexandru Fane Constantin
of Lazarovici-Diaconscu
15 years of age

HISTORY Dragos Cassius Constantin was born on all Hallows Eve in the year 1901. It was the ruling of King Carol of the new kingdom of Romania and being born of noble rank assured a comfortable and luxurious life style. As a boy, Dragos soon learned to stop hiding in his mother's skirts to face his adversities like a man. He was brought up to be educated, learning Hungarian, Russian, Greek, German, English and Latin at a young age. At gatherings, he would recite poetry for guests and could even outwit a few who chose to challenge him. His friends consisted of other highborn children and he spent his leisure riding horses and playing the violin. He went on business trips with his father who ran a very prosperous mining and trade company for metal. By the time he was six, he had already visited England, Germany, France, Russia, Bulgaria, and China. He was to be the heir of the company, but such a life would soon come crashing down in flames.

In the year of 1907, the peasant revolts resulted in numerous accounts of arson. One such account was that of the Constantin Manor. It as Christmas Eve and the family had gotten together to celebrate. Dragos was among his parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and some friends of the family. They had such gatherings every year, so they wasn't expecting what was to come. As big as the manor was, it took a while for the fire to spread to the room on the second floor where all the family was gathered, but when it had reached them, it was already too late to escape through the doors. Screams filled the air as fine fabrics caught flame, burning flesh and hair. The Christmas tree became a towering angry red torch and windows burst from the intensity of the fire. Everyone ran about for a place to escape, but there were flames in every direction. Young Dragos was with his mother, who was looking for her husband among the sea of panicking faces. She caught the sleeve of a man who was running by, expecting her husband but was greeted by the face of his brother. Quickly, she was shoved through a passage way along the wall's lining that exited through the back of the house. A few more emerged before the top of the house collapsed and fell down upon the first floor. Stelian was not among them.

There was much that was lost that day. Many lives, a home, everything. Lazarovici-Diaconscu was dressed in black for the entire year, though Alina and her son adorn black for much longer. Without her husband or a home, she was welcomed into her stepbrother's home with his wife and children and they continued their noble lifestyle with loss in their hearts. It was not long before Alina succumbed to heartache and sickness and died, leaving Dragos as an orphan at the age of ten. He would stay in his uncle's care, however, betrothed to his daughter Mirela and set to regain his father's company in the coming years of his adulthood. This life, however, would also not meant to be.

It was October 29th, 1919 and a particularly frigid autumn night. Dragos, to come into his eighteenth year in only a few short hours, was taking a walk through the streets of Bucharest after a long conversation with his uncle and the manager of his father's company. Everything was falling into place. He would marry Mirela in spring and become the new manager of the company within the coming year. Lost within his thoughts, however, he had not yet realized he was being followed until he heard an echoing step as he crossed beneath a bridge. It could have been assumed that it was his own footsteps, but as he continued on, he heard it again...a faint step out of time with his own. He turned to see a man standing there clad in black robes with eyes like burning rubies. With a bow at his waist he introduced himself as Dumitru Cosmin Niculai Andrei Antonescu of Balitiu-Draculesti. Dragos admitted that he had never before met anyone of the House of Draculesti before. However, Dumitru spoke of Dragos as if he had known much about him all the way down to his plans for marriage and of his father's company.

"You are far better suited for a different life, Dragos of Transylvania...an unlife," he had told the young man. He informed Drago that he saw great potential in him to be an interesting one of his kind. When Dragos inquired of what he spoke of, Dumitru bared his fangs and chased him along the riverbed before finally sinking his teeth into his neck. He drank of Dragos until death neared him and then asked the boy if he wanted to live a life unlike anything his uncle could offer him, a life of freedom and wonder...or to die here by the river to later be buried next to his parent's dry corpses. Dragos nearly considered death that night, thinking for a moment that it would be so much better to let go and escape the pressures of the world, but that is when he heard his father's voice in his head. He would not hide nor run away. There was much more to the world that he had not yet experienced and with freedom, he would be able to venture as far as he wished without his uncle pulling on his collar and chaining him to his cousin's side. So, he chose unlife and was awarded the tase of Dumirtu's blood.

At the stroke of midnight, his heart stopped for five counts before it beat again and he was reanimated, resurrected, reborn to the world anew. One heartbeat...just one, and it would not beat again for quite some time. Just one, enough to bring him back from the grasp of the reaper.

"Happy Birthday, Dragos of Translyvania."

He was taken away that night on a carriage ride to a remote location upon a hill. He was made to sleep in a coffin, hidden by the rays of the sun during the morning and then let out during the rise of the moon to learn and to hunt. For years, it was just Dumitru and himself until he learned to control his cravings and abilities.

Six years later, there came a knock upon his uncle's door one evening. It was shocking to find Dragos standing there and he was informed of how they believed him to be dead, washed away by the river current when he hadn't come home after weeks. Dragos told his uncle that things have changed since the night he disappeared. He would not answer any direct questions about where he had been or what he has been doing since then, however. When he asked about Mirela, he was told that she has married someone else and he told his uncle to wish her well. He was free now. Completely free.

He left that night and returned to Dumitru. They were to go to France. Dumitru had told him something about the cuisine there and how wonderful it was.

Somewhere in the 1960's, he and Dumirtu parted ways. Dumitru to Egypt and Dragos to America. In the late 80s, however, he returned to Europe and found himself in England. He had hunted there long until he became the hunted. A family by the name of Lockeheart captured him. A series of events lead him to make a magically bonded contract with a certain Lithium Lockeheart and he has since served her, hunting his own kind at her command until she meets death and he is freed.

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Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.

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- Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban[/color][/size]
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NAME/ALIAS Jae, Jay, Jay Bomb, Smooth Operator *winks*
OTHER CHARACTERS AN ARMY! D:< PHEAR MAH ARMEH!
RP EXPERIENCE? 7 years with lots of vampire roleplay experience, Harry Potter roleplay experience, and various other roleplays involving mythical creatures.
RP SAMPLE. Check Basil.
HOW DID YOU FIND OUR SITE? A friend.
CODE WORD? Jellyfishing! *whips out the net and glasses*