OOC Let's Chat!

With smooth black hair- sometimes spiky at times- the boy smiled- with his brown eyes, and slightly crooked lips. He was often seen as the cute one in his family- back when his mom was still alive. Now, he just lives to wear a t-shirt and jeans for the most part. He might still be considered cute- or handsome to some- but not necessarily trying to show that.

Vlad was normally a boy that was delighted to see everyone- but feels very insecure when talking about himself. When asked personal questions- he flips out and as one of the calming techniques the boy has, is complaining.

Almost as if the boy was born outside of Russia, and he was, he acted as if he were a pure country kid from the United States. It was only when he was 8, when he moved to Yekaterinburg, a city near the Ural Mountains- where Koldovstoretz was resided. His first instance of magic was simply when he sat down, and the chair he was sitting in animated itself and moved to the other side of the house and back. Almost as if it were a flicker of a sign of what was inside him. He was extremely delighted with the result- obviously running into the room his dad was in to report back to his dad. "DADDDD! I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU!" He bellowed, a grin upon his face. "THE CHAIR FLEW AND CAME BACK AND IT WAS SO COOL!" (first instance just stated)

The dad had a gentle, southern smile- something you'd see in one of the southern states of the United States. "That's good, son. I'm sure if your mother was here, she'd be proud of you. After all, she's the reason we moved here. May she rest in peace." Vladislav, moaned in sorrow. He knew his mom was from Russia, and upon her death- they moved mainly to be closer to her grave. As she died in her sleep- from Cardiac Arrest- something that took the family by surprise- as the doctor said it must have been a sudden cardiac arrest- as she was diagnosed as healthy- the wish she made to be buried in Russia- was coming true.

It was probably a good thing Vladislav had his dad- and the money his mom left for him- for his schooling. He looked up at his father. "Dad, I want to go. To the school Mom went to. I don't want to go to Hogwarts, or Ilvermony, or Durmstrang- I want Koldovstoretz. Please?" The boy said, practically begging his dad- but he had no control over what his son wanted.

He felt crushed that if he couldn't go to Koldovstoretz, he would lose all further memory of his mother- and that wasn't something he wanted. He knew loss was great, and painful- but escaping it? Hard. But to him, it would be the tiny sliver of not going to Koldov- to take away his privilage to keep his mother's memories- to maybe pass it down through his family- to his friends.

Dying in the middle of sleep was how most people died, and Vlad knew that, but he couldn't accept it. It was a lifetime of pain instilled on him- even if other kids had to go through it too. Almost as if he were being a caring child.

When he turned ten and a half (10 1/2) he got the acceptance letter to Koldov. He was ready to go. It was go time. Well- he still had to get his necessary supplies- but that was obviously a story on it's own.

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