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@delmulciber-blog
“Oh Del, I can get you something weak.” Michael smiled, searching Delia’s eyes. “And I doubt you’ll remember tonight.”
“Boo! I want a Bloody Mary and I refuse to leave until I have one in my hand.” Delia stated, sitting down on a bar stool stubbornly. “I always remember everything.”
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
“Which goes to rent and gas.” Michael smiled. “And lighting. That television set. Water. The essentials.”
Delia raised an eyebrow, “Drink. Now. I make more money than you so I deserve it,” she stated. “My dearest father’s been in touch and I’d like to forget him please.”
“Where did you find it?” Del asked, at least feigning some curiously, “What is it supposed to be?”
“ what do you reckon this is, a folded art ornament turned pendant? “
“I think what it is is absolutely hideous.”
She frowned at him, clearly he was extremely arrogant if he hadn’t even noticed the ever growing line behind him. No one could be that invested in a conversation for goodness sake. “Yes, because sorry will make me not late for work,” she retorted bitterly. “Perhaps you should pay more attention.”
Cornelius mad a face reminiscent of a puppy being scolded. “I really just loose the world around me sometimes–bad habit–I really am sorry, love. But you’re right. Let me make it up to you. Here give me those.” He took her books and gave them to the casher along with his. He spoke to the casher. “And I’ll pay now before someone else gets made. Tell you’re brother I’ll let Victor know he’s looking for him.” He gave the books back to the girl behind him. “These are yours.”
Delia debated wether or not snatching her books back would be perceived as rude or not, but technically he was being rude by neglecting to notice his surroundings. All she did was glare at him, who was she object to an act of redemption. She took the books but continued to stare at the man. She didn’t like how jolly and confident he seemed, perhaps because she was the complete opposite. “Thank you,” she eventually said, stepping out of the line. “What is your name?” She asked, in a well practiced professional manner.
[ Once upon a time ] I swore I had a H E A R T Long before the world I know tore it all A P A R T
“Del, I love you but I can’t.” Michael sighed. “And I’d appreciate it if you would stop spending our money on alcohol.”
Delia stuck out her lower lip, “Oh, come on. Don’t be a spoil sport, Mikey.” She smiled at him and leaned across the bar, “I make my own money too, you know. I am an independent free woman and I should be able to buy a drink when I want to.”
She frowned at him, clearly he was extremely arrogant if he hadn’t even noticed the ever growing line behind him. No one could be that invested in a conversation for goodness sake. “Yes, because sorry will make me not late for work,” she retorted bitterly. “Perhaps you should pay more attention.”
Michael sighed and leaned against the bar. “Look, I would totally serve you but you look so done.”
Delia’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Perhaps she had had one too many but she had good reason and he knew it. “Bloody Mary,” she repeated slowly. “I am not done.”
|| Delia Mulciber || 18 || Pureblood || Neutral ||
“True strength is keeping everything together when everyone expects you to fall apart.”
B I O G R A P H Y –
Delia Claudia Mulciber was born on July 4th 1960 to Julius and Pamela (b. Parkinson) Mulciber along with her twin brother. From an early age she was taught the ways of pureblood families and how to be a proper lady. She was taught discipline and respect, diligence and perseverance. She was taught to use her words to her advantage and how each action, if carefully thought through, could have any consequences she desired. Like most magical children, she was homeschooled until the age of eleven. She always did well in her classes, she liked attempting to beat her brother in ever subject and most of all she wanted to make her parents proud. Academia seemed to be the only way she could do that.
Despite her best efforts at pleasing her parents, her father was a man with certain habits - that of his drinking habit being particularly bad. It was a rare occurrence that Julius Mulciber was sober, in fact, Delia and her brother came to refer to those such occasions as the ‘miracle days,’ simply because it was something they didn’t think was possible. Her father was a man quick to anger and he never failed to make that known. It wasn’t uncommon for him to take that anger out on his children. After a while, Delia simply became used to such behaviour. As for her mother, the woman was too timid to object to her husband who had once been a man far more gentle and kind.
By the time Delia was old enough to go to Hogwarts she had learnt to deal with her father’s moods although that didn’t necessarily mean that she could escape them entirely. Upon arrival at school she found the amount of people around her to be incredibly overwhelming so she tended to keep to herself, the only person she allowed herself to spend time with was her brother with whom she had always been incredibly close. Being sorted into Slytherin came as no surprise, it was family tradition after all. She studied harder than most, with such a large amount of free time it was easy, and by the time she began exams in fifth year she was achieving practically perfect results. When she reached her sixth year, she started to come out of her shell a little more. She allowed herself to participate in conversations in the Great Hall, much to those around her’s surprise. Although she didn’t have many close friends, she finally had some sort of social life. When exam season came around again, her grades started to slip much to her father’s disapproval.
When she returned for her seventh year after a summer of being berated and punished by being forced to stay in her room, she shut off again, closing everyone and everything but her studies out. Near the end of the year she received a letter from her father (written in her mother’s hand) explaining that she was to wed one such Michael King.
It was fair to say that Delia wasn’t pleased with this despite the fact it was what she had been preparing for her entire life but there was nothing she could do so she went along with it. After a while she found herself becoming less and less afraid of the future but rather excited. Upon graduation she and Michael moved into a small London flat. Delia is yet to tell her father her plans for the future don’t consist of following the housewife career path he elected for her.
P E R S O N A L I T Y –
Delia is ultimately a very closed off type of person, she doesn’t like opening up to any one for fear she’ll be shot down. She’s very guarded over her personal life and would prefer it if people didn’t try so hard to ‘get to know’ her. She’s very opinionated when it comes to others and isn’t afraid to tell them what she thinks of them - with some minor exceptions.
She’s not very good at dealing with other people’s emotions although on the few occasions she trusts someone she will be unwaveringly loyal and caring to the point it’s almost irritating. She isn’t very quick to anger but when she is mad there is no stopping her. She will go to extreme lengths to destroy anyone who crosses her or those she cared about, (especially if it concerns her brother.)
For the most part she is quiet, she likes to carefully assess the situations she finds herself in so as to find the best outcome for herself. This can result in her coming off as condescending or cruel but she doesn’t mind that at all. It makes her look like she fits in with her family’s reputation.
A B O U T –
Occupation: Hit Witch
House: Slytherin
Wand: 12”, Vine, Dragon Heartstring.
Boggart: Delia’s biggest fear is never being good enough for her father and not living up to his high standards. Naturally, her boggart is her father on another one of drunken rampages.
Amortentia: Firewood, old books, freshly baked apple pie
Patronus: Crow, corporeal
C O N N E C T I O N S –
x– ____ Mulciber - (Twin Brother)
x– Michael King - (Betrothed)
Faceclaim: Daisy Ridley
This character is: TAKEN
The day had been extremely long - that was all Del could say and that probably added to her irritation at the person in front of her. She’d only come to Flourish and Blotts in search of a couple of new technique based books, she hadn’t expected to be help up for half an hour in a line that was going absolutely nowhere. “Excuse me, but my dead grandmother could have been through here a hundred times already. Could you pick up the pace a little?”
You must put these dreams aside, they will only break your heart.
George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones (via thelovejournals)