Ефим Румянцев

Name: Yefim Rumyantsev
(pronounced yeFEEM)
Age: 12
School Year: Second
Blood Status: Pure-blood

Appearance

Closely trimmed black hair and heavy brow. In his younger years he has light freckles when exposed to the sunlight for long. He has distinguishing green eyes and a resting angry face. He works out.

Personality

Yefim is a stellar example of what Durmstrang values in a martial magic student: motivated, strong, and ruthless. At least that is how he is in front of his instructors. While not rebellious, he still values his individualistic perspective, and will simply do as he pleases as long as he thinks he can get away with it. He doesn’t study much, caring only for practical intelligence. Though when he isn’t training, he is more often than not lazing about. He is mostly well-mannered to strangers, but talking to him for a long enough duration would reveal that he lacks a certain amount of social understanding, and will therefore start causing unintentional harm the longer he is spoken to. He is also a pathological liar, saying things just to see how people might react, or if they’ll believe him. Because of this, he is often pegged as being unfriendly by his peers, but someone who is able to see past that would realize he is mostly laid-back and compliant, going wherever his life takes him.

He is neither selfish nor selfless, and instead comes off as detached. Despite this, he likes talking to people and making friends when he can, but he cares very little whether his new acquaintances love him or hate him. He interacts with the world without thinking much of what impact he might have, and instead will often just do whatever crazy dare anyone asks him to just because it sounds like it will be funny. He is not beyond using his strength to get his way, and in fact can get unpredictable when his ability to defend himself is taken away.

History

Yefim’s mother Panya was a pureblood wizard from Angola who attended Durmstrang as part of an exchange program. The true intent was to offer Portugese-colonized African purebloods independence to enrich the pureblooded population in Siberia. As one such benefactor, and being naturally ambitious, she used her time at school to study Dark Arts. In time she was courted by Yefim’s father, Mikhail Rumyantsev, who unbeknownst to her, was a worshiper of a false prophet. He belonged to something of a cult, one who believed their blood, rituals, and magic would give birth to a new god. Yefim was meant to be that child. In reality, his father was a charismatic paranoid schizophrenic person who had convinced a few others of his ability to speak to divine voices.

The couple and their new child settled in Moscow, Panya being successful enough in her field to allow Yefim’s father to stay at home and raise him. Once his true intentions came to light, around when Yefim was nine-years-old, Panya fled her home and took refuge with a colleague who kept her hidden while Mikhail’s activities were investigated. Panya sent Yefim to psychiatrists to try and undo some of the strange ideas that his father had planted in his mind, but the sudden distancing from the father he had spent so much time with, and who had only ever been loving and kind to him, was more traumatizing than what he had been told to believe. With therapy and time, Yefim learned not to become too attached to people, and grew to hate religion and the system that had let his father down. Now, he finds power in physical strength and is interested in the study of magical creatures, particularly dragons.

Is your character a Quidditch player: Yes

Follow-up: Removed mention of dragons in his past since it was only window dressing to begin with.

Approved

Character: Yefim Rumyantsev
Year: Second (35 points)
Broom: School broom

Stats:
Sta: 6
Eva: 5
Str: 10
Wis: 3
AP: 4
Acc: 7

Ability: pending
Desired position: Chaser

Application for ability "Martial Artist"

Reducio

Life was hard for everyone, so it was always a good idea to be able to defend yourself. Of course there was magic, but not many wizards in Russia settled for magic alone. Durmstrang was the school that most of the wizards in Moscow graduated from anyway, so if they weren't scholars, or dipped out after a few years to get into other vocations, they were martial casters. It was common knowledge, though not every family was as well-off as Yefim's. That was, while he was still growing up, before his father was taken away. While his mother had studied the Dark Arts, her and his father both expected him to keep up with physical training, though they had different reasons for wanting so.

Even if they hadn't specifically encouraged he learn to defend himself, the world would emphasize the need for it well enough. He grew up in the capital, so it wasn't as though he was blind to the dog-eat-dog nature of humanity. He had friends from school show up with black eyes and bloody lips, and saw hit and runs on his way out of the grocer. There was an overwhelming sense amongst the young future wizards of Russia that without magic to defend themselves, they would have to build their muscle and learn how to throw a punch, before it was too late and they became victims themselves.

With that in mind, Yefim fell in with a certain crowd. His mother always told him to attach himself to people that looked strong, so he simply followed her words without a second thought. They were the kids who taught the others why they should be getting stronger themselves, it wasn't hard for Yefim to find them. They weren't bad kids, but they knew how to hit fast and hard. They weren't maniacs, and they weren't cruel. In fact, they spent most of their time having a laugh and keeping each other company. Still they had a goal: they defended their right to monopolize the school's gym training equipment after hours.

There was an initiation of course, though it wasn't written down anywhere. You had to know someone, they had to trust you, and you had to show you weren't scared of throwing down at a moment's notice. After all, once you were a part of the group, you'd be expected to defend the gym as well. In return, they showed Yefim what they knew about working out properly, and he had full access to the equipment whenever he wanted.

When he started, he thought he was simply doing his due diligence, but once he arrived at Durmstrang he realized the opportunity had been an exceptional one. Most of the kids his age just threw punches without knowing how to extend their arm properly, or how to keep from hurting themselves in a fight. Just as well, he liked being better than others, like he was meant to be.

Word count: 491

Stats: Approved.
Abilities: Approved.

Character: Yefim Rumyantsev

1.) Is your character a Broom Racer?: NO YES
2.) Is your character a Quidditch Player?: YES NO
3.) Is your character a Duelist? NO

4.) Stats: +5 = 40 points total
◇Sta: 6 ◇Eva: 7 ◇Str: 10
◇Wis: 3 ◇AP: 4 ◇Acc: 10
(+2 to Evasion and +3 to Accuracy)

5.) Abilities:
First year: Martial Artist (Accepted)
Second-year: Terrible Presence
Application:

Reducio

As Yefim started to get older, the cute baby fat started to fade from his face. Without the illusion of childish innocence in his features, the inner demon began to appear more noticeable. He stood tall, bulky, too muscular for someone his age. His pronounced brow shadowed his eyes so only the whites glimmered through. He wasn't afraid of looking intimidating, having spent much of his childhood scaring other children away from his turf. He learned how to look dangerous, but more than that, he looked his happiest when people were cowering before him. Whether his opponent chose fight or flight didn't make a difference to him, and his body language said it.

The therapy could only do so much to try to rationalize the words that his father whispered into his impressionable young mind. He wasn't like other kids... he was special. Maybe more special than anyone who ever existed. After all, there was a lot of unexplainable things in the world, and with magic the possibilities seemed endless. Was it really so strange to think that someone could make their child the avatar of a deity? He behaved like a normal child around his mother, that was what she wanted, but in school, during classes, his professors loved his confidence and ruthlessness. The more comfortable he became in believing in his own strength, in believing he was destined for greatness, the more his cruelty grew.

He wasn't afraid to use force to get his way, or lie if he thought it would be funny. The world was his playground to do as he pleased with, and nothing so far in his short life had taught him otherwise. Weak people deserved to be put in their place, and victory belonged to those who did anything to get it. He didn't have time to care about other people's feelings when he dwelled so high above them. What he cared about was himself, and lording his greatness over the rabble and watching them squirm in discomfort.

It was power. Beyond just beating people to a pulp, he also had the power of intimidation. Anyone who met eyes with the wild creature would see no restraint, and no mercy. To his peers in Durmstrang, he was one of many students who were given a wide berth in the halls, but to Yefim, he was successfully exerting the pressure of his godly aura. Their fear fueled him, motivated him.

Word count: 407/400

Basics

Name: Alexandra Ansley Pearle Harrietta Christiana Basset
Age: 12
School Year: 3rd Durmstrang year
Race: Human
Blood Status: Pure-blood

Appearance:

Reducio

175 x 225

Normal resolution

With straight, long, light brown hair, and blue eyes, Alexandra is a rather pretty girl. She has a slightly upturned nose and an affinity for jewelry and accessories. She prefers formal wear over more casual clothes, but her favorite accessory has to be her coats which she collects almost religiously.

Personality:

Alexandra holds herself up with pride. She could be considered selfish, but she thinks she's entitled to feel that way; her family is a distant branch of some kind of nobility and Alexandra wears that like a badge of honor. Despite being pretty much spoiled rotten by her quite wealthy family, she understands she has the duty to treat people like her teachers with respect and unless they are a direct disservice to herself and her family will follow rules with no complaints. Towards the people that she cares about or has a debt/fondness towards she will be loyal to a fault, although so far the only people to achieve that status from her are her family. She values her school and her peers but isn't truly close to anyone.

Alexandra comes from a wealthy family, the youngest child in a family of three. All of her siblings are much older than her and quite accomplished, only living with their family for the sake of convenience. She doesn't see her siblings too much and is pretty much treated like an only child by her parents. She has gotten everything she wanted since she was a child and is used to the very best for her.

Because of her upbringing, she perceives a lot of people as beneath her and until one can show their status or at least an affinity for the finer things in life, she perceives people as unworthy and tries to keep them at a distance.

Backstory:

Alexandra Ansley was born on a warm night, 10th of May 2008 to Elias Ewoud Michaël Erik Silvester Basset and his wife, Mahaut Eleonora Vérène Ivonne Elfriede Basset (nee Renee). Her older siblings were Isa Lisette Coba Basset and Natalie Nadine Lorette Julia Godelieve Basset; both older sisters who were respectively 10 and 14 at the time. All of them coming from a long line of pureblood wizards, they were proud people. She spent her childhood days wandering the halls of their manor with one of the family cats, but her favorite place on the huge property was a certain spot in the garden which both her siblings favored as well. When she was 6, they'd spend their time there, but as they all grew older, only Alexandra and the family cats roamed that specific nook of the garden.

Her first signs of magic manifested when she was about four. She was, as usual, roaming the halls of their house, walking down the stairs from the first floor to the living room; they were not steep, but with one of the cats that always accompanied Alexandra on her daily adventures constantly running around the little girl, it was only obvious she would trip at some point. And she did, almost at the top of the stairs, but instead of falling and probably hurting herself, her fall was unnaturally soft, and in a second, she was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, blissfully unaware.

Alexandra's family made sure that except for exploring the manor, she had many other activities around the house. She was taught to play the violin and speak different languages (mainly German, French, and Dutch) from an early age. She was enrolled in ballet classes at 3 but stopped practicing when she was 7 to instead take up horse riding which she enjoys to this day. Her sisters went to Durmstrang and her parents to Beauxbatons, but before she reached the appropriate age to go to a wizarding school herself, she went to a private school which also cultivated those interests.

Throughout her entire life, she had a rather good relationship with her family, both extended and immediate. Despite busy lives, her parents made sure to spend time with their youngest, and her older sisters were also rather fond of her presence. The only person from her family who actively disliked Alexandra was their great-grandmother who passed away when the girl was seven.

Is your character a Quidditch Player? No.

Approved

Name: Alexander Ward
School: Durmstrang
Year: 2nd
Birthday: 24.12.2007
Age: 12
Blood Status: Pure-blood
Birthplace: York, UK

Appearance: The first thing one would notice about Alexander, was his eyes; they were a piercing light blue, that would darken during the winter. People usually described his eyes as the stormy sea, wild and dark while captivating and fierce. His hair were blonde and slightly curly, on the longer length rather than short. He appeared a little older than the other twelve year old boys, probably because of his slightly taller figure (5'2" was slightly above the average height), and he had an athletic figure thanks to all the time he spent outdoor running (and exploring the mansion's gardens when he is back home in York).

Personality: Extremely curious and smart, Alexander preferred staying by himself with a book rather than hang out in a large group of friends. However, he liked being around people that he likes, while at the same time he could spend days by himself and not feel lonely at all. Because of his curiosity, he liked to bend the rules sometimes, if that meant discovering new things and go on adventures. He was extremely ambitious, and he always wanted to be the best at everything and he would do whatever it takes to achieve that (and if to do so he needed to break a couple of rules, he wouldn't have been too sad about that). Despite his ambition, he was extremely loyal to his family and his close friends, and he would never betray them - although that might not be the case for everyone else.

History: On a cold night of December, right before Christmas, Alexander Ward came into this world. His mother and father, Janice and Claudius, came from pureblood families, and since the day he was born, Alexander had to deal with the pressure that his family name meant.

Because of his parents job - they were both extremely skilled ward setters - Alexander had spent more time with his Grandfather Charles, rather than with his mother or father. Charles took it upon himself to raise the kid in a strict way, wanting only the best for, and from, his only grandson. That meant that Alexander's childhood was spend between studying - both his family history and the normal subjects that any kid would learn at school - and spending time in nature; his grandfather would bring him in the woods surrounding their mansion, and there he would teach him how to use a bow and arrows, or how to use a sword and, once he was old enough, how to defend himself without any kind of weapon. But together with the more "physical" training, Alexander got used to books and studying since he was little.
Of course, growing up with such a strict Grandfather was not easy, and more than once Alexander's rebellious side would come to the surface, challenging his grandpa and even running away in the woods to escape from his strict ways; but after all, the boy always knew that if he wanted to succeed in life, he needed to be tougher and smarter than anybody else - and if that meant having to put up with his grandfather, then he would have done that; after all, his family's motto was "Sub Cruce Salus", which meant "Salvation under the Cross" (today, the motto is still visible under the family crest).

Once he was old enough, his parents decided to send him to Durmstrang, rather than to Hogwarts, thinking that the way of teaching and possible career paths that Durmstrang offered were more suited for they child - and Alexander couldn't have agreed more, since he had always thought that Hogwarts was way too "permissive" and lacked the discipline that he felt was essential into raising proper wizards and witches. During his first year at the school, Alexander already knew his parents had made the right choice sending him there, and he had already decided that not only he would have finished the mandatory 5 years at the school, but he would have continued there and completed the additional 3 years, even if he hadn't chosen yet between Combat Magic and Dark Magic, both really appealing to him.

Is your character a Quidditch Player? No

Alexander Ward

Race, Abilities & Items

Race: Human
Abilities:

• Charmer
  Reducio

  
  Growing up mostly with his Grandfather, Alexander had learned from the start the proper way to talk to people, especially those that were older than him. His manners were always impeccable, his voice never too loud or too low, his words well thought and pleasing to the listener's ears. Everyone loved him, looked for him in a crowded room just to exchange some words with him, wanted to hear his opinion on matters that were important to them.
  
  And Alexander loved it.
  
  At the beginning, when he was still learning how to talk, his good looks made sure that the little boy would not go unnoticed, his bright, blue eyes catching everyone'a attention; his smile was pure, contagious, and his golden locks gave the boy almost an angelic aura. As he grew older and his ambitious side started emerging, Alec started testing how much his good looks would affect people, and soon he realised that if he actually combined his good manners with his genetic treasure well, in that case he would have all the attention that he wanted - or needed.
  
  One summer night, -specifically, between his first and second school year at Durmstrang- during one of his parents parties that most of the important families -pureblood and non- attended, Alec had decided to join the adults, hoping to find the reason of his parents latest discomfort. Previously that day, the young Durmstrang student had, as he was usual doing, eavesdropped his parents talking: there was this woman, Marie Lacroix, that had been complaining about some protective wards that his parents had put around her house, claiming that they were not working properly, that she was concerned for her safety, and that she would have asked someone else to put up new wards. Her words, quoted by his parents, plus the woman's picture that he had managed to steal from his dad's office, had left the boy curious; he wanted to know why she needed those wards in the first place, what she had to hide, and he wondered if maybe he would have been able to change her mind about not sticking with his parents; after all, he was good with words.
  
  So later that night, Alexander had walked inside the main dining room, dressed with a nice suit that his Grandfather had a tailor make specifically for him, and ready to find the mystery woman. It was quite easy to spot her: her white, pale hair stood out in the midst of heads; her whole presence, from her looks, to her voice, and even her movements, were hypnotic, and Alexander lost focus for a second, before remembering what he had come to do. With a sweet, innocent smile plastered on his face, he had walked up to the old woman and introduced himself, like a real gentleman was supposed to; then he proceeded in chatting with Mrs Lacroix about frivolous topics, before he started talking about his parents. Just as he was talking about how his parents were two of the best ward setters in the country, Marie, with a warm but calculated smile on her lips, stopped the boy from continuing talking. "You are quite the charmer, young boy, aren't you?" she said, her words sounding like a melody into the boy's ears. "Your parents must be so proud of you; though, I assume they have no idea of what you were trying to do over here,"
  
  As she continued talking, Alexander felt incredibly frustrated with himself; usually his charm allowed him to achieve his goal, why was it not working in this case? Mrs Lacroix answered his question, as she explained to him that she was a Veela, and suddenly everything made more sense: she needed those wards to protect herself and her house from possible enemies, no wonder she was extremely upset that they were not working. Once the old woman had finished talking, Alexander promptly apologised to her for his actions, but the woman shook her head and smiled at him again. "I have a young granddaughter, I know how you children can be sometimes. This said,"she crossed her arms over her chest, and for a small second the young boy worried that he might have actually done more harm than good. "You can let your parents know that I'm willing to give them a second chance. After all, an extremely persuasive kid reminded me that I'm in very capable hands,"
  
  With that last sentence, Marie Lacroix smiled at the young Ward, before excusing herself and walking towards another group of people. Alexander smiled bright, for real this time, and puffed out his chest, feeling extremely proud of himself; he scanned the room with his eyes, and when he finally saw his parents, he made his way towards them.
  
  It was time to give them the good news.
  

  WC: 806 words.

Items: None

Statistics

Stamina: 5
Evasion: 3
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 8
Arcane Power: 7
Accuracy: 7

35/35

Playing no Quidditch position.

Stats: Approved
Abilities: Approved

Durmstrang iNPC Update

Character: Alexander Ward

1. Is your character a Broom Racer? NO
2. Is your character a Quidditch Player? NO
3. Is your character a Duelist? YES NO

4. Stats Update (added +2 to Evasion, +1 to Wisdom, AP and Accuracy; total of +5)
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 5
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 9
Arcane Power: 8
Accuracy: 8

40/40

5. Abilities

• Charmer (1st year ability, already accepted)

• Perfectionist (Applying in the reducio)
  Reducio

  
  Being the son of Janice and Claudius Ward was not always easy. Since he was young, Alexander had to prove to everyone that he was worth of his family name; that meant he needed to always be perfect, ready for anything: his clothes would have to be of the finest quality, and always in pristine condition; the same thing applied to his hair, that were never too long or messy.
  Of course, all of this plus his ambitious and thorough personality impacted his way of studying as well.
  
  Whenever he faced a new spell at school, he would spend an insane amount of time researching the etymology of the word; he believed that if he understood better where the spell's name came from, he could pronounce it better. After that, he would spend hours just repeating, over and over again, the name of the spell; then he would do the same with the wand movement and only once everything was perfect, he would try and cast the spell for the first time.
  
  Some people might have said he was a little too obsessed with getting the spell's pronunciation and wand movement right, but for Alexander all of that practice was worth it. If he wouldn't take his time practicing the spell, if he would just try and see what would happen, the chances of failure would be way too high for his liking; he needed to be good, perfect, even at his first try.
  
  His parents were incredibly skilled spell casters, and he could not imagine them failing not even once; if some of his classmates preferred stying outside and relax during their free time, Alexander would often practice the spells he had learned. "Practice makes perfect," was one of the mottos he would often repeat in his head when, his wand in his hand, he would cast a spell for the 20th time in a row.
  
  There was no room for failure, not for him.
  
  With his family name on his shoulder, the weight of their job, their legacy, he could not afford any error. Of course, sometimes it would get a little overwhelming for the young boy, especially if a spell was particularly complicated, or during the exams weeks when the time to over-practice would be too little for his likings; but Alexander never backed down from a challenge, he was way too ambitious for that.
  
  He would have made his parents and the whole family proud.

  WC: 409 words.

  
  

Approved

Approved

──────────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────────

───────The Basics─────── Reducio Name: Hans Fransson Nickname: Hanzo Species: Human Nationality: Norwegian Age: 12 Year: Second Home: Flåm, Norway School: Durmstrang Blood Status: Pureblood Birthday: September 1st, 2007 Quidditch Player: Yes

─────Personality───── Reducio Anyone who dares lay eyes on the boy, can easily tell his exuberant personality. Though rather soft-spoken and shy, he’s an incredibly kind soul, a bleeding heart to all those in need of love and affection. His patience in others is commendable, as is his optimism unending. He is slow to get angry – and even then, he loathes confrontation. However, never let it be said that the boy is a coward. No, on the contrary, his bravery is very akin to that of a Gryffindor. He’s free-spirited, adventure-seeking, and doesn’t fear taking a hit.

────────Looks──────── Reducio Hanzo has a bright, friendly disposition, his eyes startlingly blue, almost gray, much like the waters off the Scandinavian Pier in which he lives, and his face forever smiling, a shiny set of teeth hidden behind ever-upturned lips. His hair, unkempt and wind-swept, takes the color of a golden, sun-kissed blonde, gently highlighted with a light brown at its roots, his skin porcelain, pale much like a vampire’s. He’s a small boy, only 4’8 in height, with gangly arms and a fair build, his hands small and nimble, much like a thief's, covered with small scars and natural markings. In addition to all this, though he be a small stick-like child, the boy is well-built, the result of his extracurricular activities of caring for his father's animals.

──────Backstory────── Reducio Hanzo has always been a bit prejudiced. After all, what is one to expect of such fine, pure blood? Well, to start off such a story, one would have to travel to the beginning. Hans Fransson’s story, in particular, began in the lovely country of Norway – particularly in the town of Flåm, a small fishing and farming village sitting peacefully on the edge of a rather magnificent fjord. The young boy, born to midwives, was proudly raised by two prideful, yet reclusive pureblood parents. Because of this, Hans and his sister Greta had been taught prejudice at a very young age, knowing only that wizards and all their facets were superior to that of the muggle race. Astrid Fransson, the boy’s lovely mother, was a well-traveled and esteemed wandmaker, Jakob Fransson, the boy’s father, a keeper of magical animals. Reared in such an environment, the boy had been taught labor at a very young age, garnering quite the work ethic and shortly learning that, with the right mindset, one was capable of anything. Hanzo had learned at a very young age what it was like to feel helpless. He was premature, small for his age, a little child in comparison to the hulking brutes of boys that inhabited his village. Perhaps you can imagine a small boy, with long gangly arms and a scrawny neck? He wasn’t sure why such characteristics made him different to his peers, why they’d ever decided to prey on his weakness at such an age. Perhaps he would never know. He’d always suspected the faults of the human race, and the hate and discord in which it entailed. He would never truly be able to explain to his parents the bruises that he’d garnered walking home from his muggle school each night, nor be able to tell Greta of their origins. He was weak, he was vulnerable. But that had never made him helpless. No, on the contrary, such adversity had taught the child to be strong, graceful in the face of the storms that God threw at him. He’d learned to be mentally unbreakable. It was in this way, that he’d grown in his years preliminary to Durmstrang. Hard work on his farm pushed him to be physically stronger, as did the bullying he’d endured in his village. Rather than letting himself get beaten by his problems, he’d learned to push past them, be a better person. It was in this way, that he also attempted to be a good image for his sister, Greta, for one day, she too might face adversity. Many years of endurance passed, as did many years of weathering the hardships of his small town. However, such patience did not go unnoticed. It wasn’t long before he’d gained not only the respect of the boys in his village, but his own parents, and peers of his fair town. He was no longer the frail, gangly weakling he’d been in grade school. He was no longer breakable by the fists and jeers thrown his way. His first instance of magic occurred one day when he was fishing with his sister and a couple of family friends upon the fjord in a rather massive boat. The fish, as it seemed, had utterly deserted the small fjord, leaving the merry group discouraged and without success. That was, before Hanzo had tried his hand at the art. Having spent the entire trip drawing on his notepad, he was shortly ushered out by his sister and a few of his friends. It was when he cast his net, that the fishing adventure finally became worthwhile – the net, as it seemed, had been chockfull of massive, meaty fish, enough to tilt the boat onto its side in mass. The group had been very impressed with his newfound skill, and had shortly shared with his parents what they had found. However, when asked by his family to use this unusual ability again, he found that it had sorely deserted him. He’d received his Durmstrang Letter a couple of months before his eleventh birthday. Upon reading the invitation with his own two eyes, he’d felt an immense surge of joy – perhaps there was more to learn, more to the world than the hometown in which he presided. What lay ahead for him? What challenges would he face?

──────────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────────

For Accessibility

Reducio

Name: Hans 'Hanzo' Fransson
School: Durmstrang
Year: Second
Appearance: 

Hanzo has a bright, friendly disposition, his eyes startlingly blue, almost gray, much like the waters off the Scandinavian Pier in which he lives, and his face forever smiling, a shiny set of teeth hidden behind ever-upturned lips. His hair, unkempt and wind-swept, takes the color of a golden, sun-kissed blonde, gently highlighted with a light brown at its roots, his skin porcelain, pale much like a vampire’s. He’s a small boy, only 4’8 in height, with gangly arms and a fair build, his hands small and nimble, much like a thief's, covered with small scars and natural markings. In addition to all this, though he be a small stick-like child, the boy is well-built, the result of his extracurricular activities of caring for his father's animals.
Personality: Anyone who dares lay eyes on the boy, can easily tell his exuberant personality. Though rather soft-spoken and shy, he’s an incredibly kind soul, a bleeding heart to all those in need of love and affection. His patience in others is commendable, as is his optimism unending. He is slow to get angry – and even then, he loathes confrontation. However, never let it be said that the boy is a coward. No, on the contrary, his bravery is very akin to that of a Gryffindor. He’s free-spirited, adventure-seeking, and doesn’t fear taking a hit.
History: Hanzo has always been a bit prejudiced. After all, what is one to expect of such fine, pure blood?

Well, to start off such a story, one would have to travel to the beginning. Hans Fransson’s story, in particular, began in the lovely country of Norway – particularly in the town of Flåm, a small fishing and farming village sitting peacefully on the edge of a rather magnificent fjord. The young boy, born to midwives, was proudly raised by two prideful, yet reclusive pureblood parents. Because of this, Hans and his sister Greta had been taught prejudice at a very young age, knowing only that wizards and all their facets were superior to that of the muggle race. Astrid Fransson, the boy’s lovely mother, was a well-traveled and esteemed wandmaker, Jakob Fransson, the boy’s father, a keeper of magical animals. Reared in such an environment, the boy had been taught labor at a very young age, garnering quite the work ethic and shortly learning that, with the right mindset, one was capable of anything.

Hanzo had learned at a very young age what it was like to feel helpless. He was premature, small for his age, a little child in comparison to the hulking brutes of boys that inhabited his village. Perhaps you can imagine a small boy, with long gangly arms and a scrawny neck? He wasn’t sure why such characteristics made him different to his peers, why they’d ever decided to prey on his weakness at such an age. Perhaps he would never know. He’d always suspected the faults of the human race, and the hate and discord in which it entailed. He would never truly be able to explain to his parents the bruises that he’d garnered walking home from his muggle school each night, nor be able to tell Greta of their origins. He was weak, he was vulnerable. But that had never made him helpless. No, on the contrary, such adversity had taught the child to be strong, graceful in the face of the storms that God threw at him. He’d learned to be mentally unbreakable.

It was in this way, that he’d grown in his years preliminary to Durmstrang. Hard work on his farm pushed him to be physically stronger, as did the bullying he’d endured in his village. Rather than letting himself get beaten by his problems, he’d learned to push past them, be a better person. It was in this way, that he also attempted to be a good image for his sister, Greta, for one day, she too might face adversity. Many years of endurance passed, as did many years of weathering the hardships of his small town. However, such patience did not go unnoticed. It wasn’t long before he’d gained not only the respect of the boys in his village, but his own parents, and peers of his fair town. He was no longer the frail, gangly weakling he’d been in grade school. He was no longer breakable by the fists and jeers thrown his way.

His first instance of magic occurred one day when he was fishing with his sister and a couple of family friends upon the fjord in a rather massive boat. The fish, as it seemed, had utterly deserted the small fjord, leaving the merry group discouraged and without success. That was, before Hanzo had tried his hand at the art. Having spent the entire trip drawing on his notepad, he was shortly ushered out by his sister and a few of his friends. It was when he cast his net, that the fishing adventure finally became worthwhile – the net, as it seemed, had been chockfull of massive, meaty fish, enough to tilt the boat onto its side in mass. The group had been very impressed with his newfound skill, and had shortly shared with his parents what they had found. However, when asked by his family to use this unusual ability again, he found that it had sorely deserted him.

He’d received his Durmstrang Letter a couple of months before his tenth birthday. Upon reading the invitation with his own two eyes, he’d felt an immense surge of joy – perhaps there was more to learn, more to the world than the hometown in which he presided. What lay ahead for him? What challenges would he face?
Is your character a Quidditch Player? Yes

Approved

Link to Hanzo: Here we are~

♛ Abilities ♛

Ability: Monster Hunter

Hanzo was afraid of a lot of things. Monsters weren’t one of them.

He hadn’t always hated the creatures. There was once a time when his thoughts would be entertained with the existence of the other races, his father telling him beautiful and vibrant tales of dragons and imps, women far too pretty for their own good, men who could change their faces at will. Good bedtime stories, if you asked him, the creatures dancing around the contents of his brain, leaving him breathless in wonder as he snored silently in the midst of the night. Mysterious, intriguing, in the same way that they were utterly terrifying. A fearful race, monsters were, one he had told himself at the time to always be wary of. There was no telling what they were capable of, what monstrosities they could commit, should they use their power for evil. And he was just a small child, insignificant in the sight of the world. Monsters were heroes, as much as they were villains. Monumental characters in the story one called reality, creatures that condescended humans in many more ways than one. Monsters were special. Monsters were good.

And, he’d learned to respect them, if not fear them in the slightest. It was funny, because he’d always recognized his fear for what it was – artificial, the body’s way of telling one that something was far from safe. A mere feeling. Feelings had always been false, he’d long since learned, as pain wasn’t anything to be afraid of, in the same way that sadness was only temporary. And, though he was far from fearless, he’d learned at a very young age that the feeling was unrealistic, in the same way that a unicorn could fly. If something was feared, then he would fear it. But never would the fear consume him.

He’d been naïve once, given monsters the expensive gift he called his respect. There were monsters everywhere he’d ever been – people with power, the ability to fix what was wrong in society. They were living in his house, attending his school. And, while some of the ‘monsters’ had been kind, loving, nurturing to his growth, the good majority had only caused him pain, strife, anxiety. Kids were mean, and people could be bloody horrible. No matter, there was no room nowadays for pity or depression in the life of the child. He’d long since come to terms with his demons, every day choosing to rise from his bed ready to fulfill his miserable existence. He’d learned to be strong. Fighting wasn’t physical, as much as it was mental – giving in to the propaganda of threats and fists only made one weaker, more prone to giving in to the clutches of the fear he so strongly despised. How a monster could ever use his power for evil, purely sickened the boy, making his stomach twist in agony and his eyes water in strife. The monsters he had once idolized were no more than crumbling monuments, burning with the fires of hate that billowed in his stomach.

The bullies that caught his eye now had horns, a tail, eyes red with the hate their souls held. All in his mind’s eye, surely, but that didn’t make what he was seeing any less real. They were his demons, the tormentors of his existence. His monsters. And there had been a day when he’d feared them.
But there was fear no more.

He’d faced his existence, and had deducted that the life he had chosen was perfect just the way it was. And, though he would never resort to his fists to settle his disputes, he knew that no monster could ever use him again. He was stronger than them, better on all counts, and he would strive to live up to that. A kind heart he was, there was a special place for monsters. The creatures his father had told him about were the villains of his story, and he’d sworn revenge. He would hunt them down. He would prove his worth.

Hanzo wasn’t afraid of monsters. They were afraid of him.

WC: 684

Year II: Comprehend Languages [Parseltongue]

Reducio

Hanzo, for as long as he could remember, had been burdened with a terrible bout of curiosity.

A sickness it was, or perhaps it was a blessing, should one count the constant pursuit of knowledge a beneficiary to one’s growth – while many adults had smiled upon the boy’s progressive endeavors, no words could dismiss the skepticism held within the mind of the third year, nor take back the years of bullying he had endured in his search for answers. However, though he’d found a great deal of trouble in his studies, he couldn’t find a reason to take back those years in favor of a different course. Now a master of four languages, he knew full well that his endeavors would come with great reward – but, of course, there was no reason to stop due his lengthy advancements. If he’d learned one thing from his endeavors as a Quidditch Captain, it was that one could never stop learning.

Perhaps this is what spurred the boy’s interest in Parseltongue. A difficult language it was, if not beautiful, the linguistics a fickle creature of its own in the way it twisted like the progression of a river, falling off the tongue like sweet water and pouring into the open air. From the first time he’d heard it, spoken from the lips of a customer in his mother’s wand shop, Hanzo had found himself wildly intrigued, perhaps even mystified by the strange, foreign syllables – being as strong-willed and astute as he was, it was a silly notion to consider disregarding the pursuit this strange new knowledge. A mere first-year at the time, he knew with a stark certainty what he was to do – it didn’t matter what his peers told him, whether or not it was possible, if he could do it. He would speak Parselmouth, some way, somehow. Rules, after all, were meant for shattering, were they not?

Learning the language was not in the least an easy endeavor – his studies, rather, took the span of two long years, and even at the pinnacle of mastery, he was still lost in the strange linguistics. The pronunciation, after all, was a mystery all in its own, the words slurring together and stated in a way that was distant to the young scholar, a foreign concept to his poor Norwegian tongue. No matter how much he twisted his lips, mouthed the syllables – no, the boy would never be able to speak the snake language, no matter how hard he tried, a fact that was only evident now that he had finally completed his studies. However, his hard work had bore some fruit – upon journeying out to his father’s garden on a particularly sunny day during his break, he could hear the cool tones of a snake nearby, the animal hissing in a language he could now understand perfectly. So he could, in the least, understand the words of the snakes. A smile would curl onto his face in the moment, his eyes bright as he shoved a fist in the air – a master of five languages! Way to go, Hanzo! [516w]

♛ Statistics ♛

Stamina: 4
Evasion: 10
Strength: 3
Wisdom: 10
Arcane Power: 4
Accuracy: 10

41/41 [+1 Quidditch Win via Rafael]

♛ Priority ♛

Keeper
Chaser 1
Chaser 2
Chaser 3
Second-string Keeper
Second-string Chaser
Seeker
Second-string Seeker
Beater 1
Beater 2
Second-string Beater

*Wrote the stats mainly for the Keeper and Chaser roles. Beating really wouldn't be a good fit, really want to help the Team in this way. If the first-string positions listed above aren't available, second-string works.

Name: Valentin “Der Niffler” Schnell (credit to Dealla Prince for naming/origin help)
Birthday: October 3rd, 2008
Age: 12
School: Durmstrang
Year: 1st
Race: Human
Blood Status: Wizard-born
Birthplace: Regensburg, Germany
Face Claim: Sasha Moloko (aka Alexander/Nikolay Molochnij/Molokny)

Appearance:


Valentin is a natural-born albino male with eyes of a silvery violet color. He has an extremely thin build due to genetics combined with an eating disorder. Valentin’s hair is very pale and due to his gaunt physique he looks several years older than he really is. He often has scratches and other wounds all over due to quidditch- and flying-related accidents. He is quite pretty for a human child, though his skinny body may be a little too far on the skeletal side for some tastes.



Personality:
Valentin loves humor and is very lighthearted. While this makes him quite affable, he can be impatient and does not tolerate things he is not interested in very well. As a result he makes good friends with people he shares interests in but can be rather cold about things when he is bored. Although he would make a terrible counselor due to his frequent lack of patience for listening, when he is passionate about something his energy and warmth can be stunning. Valentin likes to use humor as a coping strategy, so sometimes he makes insensitive jokes, but he’s really trying to stop hurting other peoples’ feelings. This has led him to feel conflicted about if he should just keep quiet and make jokes in his head, but since Valentin really craves social interaction this feels extremely unpleasant.

Growing up as an albino, Valentin was lucky to have a lot of supportive friends and his unusual physical features actually made him particularly popular due to his overall good looks. As a result he enjoys the limelight and would like nothing more than to be a championship quidditch Seeker. Quidditch has been central to Valentin’s life ever since entering Durmstrang, partly because of its social bonding and also because Valentin is thrilled about speed racing. Though albinism often brings vision problems, Valentin’s albino genetics got this backwards and gave him exceptionally good vision and movement-tracking skills. This visual acuity and Valentin’s inborn need for speed made the position of Seeker the natural avenue for channeling his youthful energy.

However, Valentin is not your typical athlete. His extremely thin build makes him light and fast on a broom, but as a result he lacks the physical strength of his peers. While this is largely genetic, this trend has been compounded by Valentin’s lifestyle as a quidditch Seeker. That is, since he wants to stay light and fast on a broom despite growing in size every year, Valentin developed something of an eating disorder and he is constantly concerned about his weight. Lacking enough food to build the muscle natural to a boy of his age, when combined with genetics Valentin has become quite physically weak. Nonetheless, Valentin does not act like a wimp. He does not mind being thrown around and getting quite beaten up during quidditch matches. It is very common for him to be walking around with a new set of injuries because, even though Valentin is good at speed racing, he is still a child lacking a certain degree of control. But you know, he’s working on it.

History:
Valentin acquired a nickname, “Der Niffler,” at his time at Durmstrang because of his obsession with the golden snitch and tendency to take people’s shiny things. He has gotten in trouble before for “borrowing” certain metal objects, such as bracelets and quidditch trophies, which he has played off as theft for the sake of practical jokes. It is not that Valentin wants to acquire things, however. Ever since he was a toddler he enjoyed the thrill of the chase, as a baby often taking shiny things in order to send his parents running after him. He liked to be chased. In part, Valentin steals people’s shiny things in order to get their attention. He thinks it is just a game and does it when he is bored or lonely. Unfortunately not everyone thinks it is so funny when their precious shiny object goes missing. Not everyone knows that everything Valentin has ever taken always ended up with their original owner eventually (with one special exception). Valentin “Der Niffler” loves to chase the snitch for its own sake, but an even stronger drive for him is his need for attention.

Valentin is a great student due to his intelligence, but sometimes he does badly if he is feeling bored since he can get easily distracted if a lecture is too slow-paced. It was quite difficult for his parents to keep Valentin sufficiently stimulated as he was growing up. His parents bought him a piano, which he has used often to vent excess energy, especially by playing difficult songs very fast. However, after a while this can get tiresome for a child.



Valentin’s tendency towards boredom led to various hijinks throughout Valentin’s life, including his first accidental use of magic. One day, Valentin was in trouble again – this time for stealing his mother’s engagement ring. After all, when she already wore a wedding ring every day, what was she even doing with that engagement ring stuck in a jewelry cabinet? The object clearly needed some attention, so he took it to see if his mother would notice. His mother was quite accustomed to watching for the disappearance of shiny objects and so noticed after a couple of weeks. When confronted about it, Valentin took off running again like he usually did, and as usual he got cornered by his parents. However, this time her parents were both really upset because the item had a lot of monetary value compared to the usual silverware and ball bearings. When his capture turned overly serious in tone, Valentin got really scared and tried to lie about taking it, which he usually did not do. Mysteriously, during this stressful conversation, the ring was vanished from his pocket. His parents were never able to find proof of his theft, but Valentin did have a good heart and he became haunted by his lies. Eventually he confessed that he had taken the ring and that he himself could not find it either. This got him in a lot of trouble, of course, but Valentin’s addiction to this sort of behavior has continued unabated to this day.

Is your character a Quidditch Player? Yes! He lives to be a Seeker.

Reducio

Suggested character stats:
Stamina✵ 6
Evasion✵ 6
Strength✵ 2
Wisdom✵ 10
Arcane Power✵ 1
Accuracy✵ 10

Mentions: @Dealla Prince

Approved:

User is aware of the following:

I cannot guarantee Seeker as a role and that is a very large part of your bio. After these iNPCs are made, those that want to be quidditch players will simply announce their roles, the players that have played the most games (while getting the least points) have dibs. You might get this role but I have no way of knowing or promising that. =(

Name: Valentin “Der Niffler” Schnell
Link to Character Description
Year: "2nd" (35 stat points)
Broom: School Broom

Role Aspirations:
First choice: Seeker
Second choice: Second-string Seeker
Third choice: Second-string Keeper
Fourth choice: Keeper
Fifth choice: Second-string Chaser
If none of the above are available please owl me and I will pick from what is left.

Character Stats:
Stamina✵ 6
Evasion✵ 6
Strength✵ 2
Wisdom✵ 10
Arcane Power✵ 1
Accuracy✵ 10

Ability Application: Keen Eye

Reducio

Keen Eye

Note for mods: I am applying for this ability regardless of if my NPC will ever get to play as a Seeker, and if he is to play another role I will make up a suitable excuse for him to be playing in the respective position. However, this ability would be central to his backstory regardless and I want Keen Eye for him no matter what role he gets.

As mentioned in his full backstory, Valentin has genetically superior eyesight. This natural advantage led to him taking advantage of his vision from his earliest years, thereby enabling him to hone it further with many years of practice. Even before quidditch, Valentin had always tried to impress other people with feats of visual acuity and proprioception. After all, if there was one thing Valentin needed other than food, water, and air, it was attention. Often he would combine his lightweight frame with these visual talents, balancing on a high tightrope while catching grapes or marbles that his friends threw from ever-farther distances. After stealing shiny objects this boy “Niffler” would often run off to climb a high tree in the park from which he could observe his pursuers from a distance. The fact that it was almost always the same tree, however, was a symptom that he had always really wanted to be caught in the first place. That, and it was a very fine tree for climbing.

Another habit of Valentin’s that contributed to developing a keen eye was his kleptomania itself. The people he stole from were always people he loved or otherwise wanted attention from, so a lot of people came to expect this game from him. His family especially stayed highly vigilant since his little bouts of thieving could end up inconveniencing them if he was not spotted beforehand. As a result, Valentin needed to become very observant of his targets and be able to spot openings where his theft could succeed without being detected. Also, as many people tried to hide away their shiny objects, Valentin had to practice spotting and guessing where any given precious MacGuffin might be tucked away.

Ever since he learned how to mount a broom, Valentin has loved to fly fast. Not only was speed flashy and could garner a lot of praise from his peers when augmenting stunts, it made running from pursuers even more exciting. However, with speed comes great danger, so his sometimes reckless maneuvers often require for him to quickly spot an incoming branch and other obstacles that can be hard to see at high velocities. Although his keen eye continues to get practice during high-speed chases and daredevil stunts, this does not prevent Valentin from occasionally failing and wiping out. Usually the Niffler can be seen with wounds, sometimes bandaged and sometimes not, that resulted from moments when his powers of observation failed. Broken bones can be an excellent deterrent, but pain is no match for Valentin’s habitual dangerous behavior – instead, the threat of injury compels him to see better, spot faster, and predict with ever-greater precision.

To sum up, a natural genetic gift combined with a lifetime of practice has given Valentin a keen eye, which is a trait that has surely saved his life on a number of occasions.

Word Count: 476

Completely Unnecessary Photos

Reducio

This is so exciting!

Stats: Approved
Abilities: Approved

5/23

Update Form

Name: Valentin Schnell
2nd Year Durmstrang
Still a quidditch player (presumably 1st string seeker)

Statistics Update:
STA 8
EVA 10
STR 2
WIS 10
ARC 1
ACC 10

Graduation last year = plus five, plus one for duelling win on same account (evidence here: viewtopic.php?f=16&t=15267&start=60#p245211 )

Ability Addition:
Charmer

Reducio

Valentin was known for being the (in)famous first-string seeker of Durmstrang’s quidditch team, and with it came fame that spawned from not just the fans’ love of the game. No, Valentin had a magnetic, charismatic personality and he truly loved his fans... resulting in them feeling that his victories were theirs. Energetic, extreme, flashy: Valentin was born for the limelight and high-pressure situations. Win or lose, Valentin was always able to say something inspiring, funny, or exciting to his people, to whom he was always selfless and loyal.

With his silky voice (inherited from his musician mother) and his striking pale features, the White Niffler stood out like no other on the quidditch pitch. Wherever he went his fame came with, so he tended to attract the attention of those around him. Still, even people with no interest in quidditch were often charmed by his positivity, spontaneity, and high-speed antics. For all his life Valentin fed off attention, actively seeking it out and thriving in its crucible. Together all of these positive facets made for a gravitational well for onlookers. However, his negative traits could also be extremely distracting.

Though not a loud boy, Valentin was one of the most impatient people around when it came to anything but quidditch or his fans. When his world seemed to exist for only these, little else could hold his attention for long unless it was as fast-paced as this quicksilver boy. Whenever he would get bored in class or other obligatory occasions Valentin would find something to amuse himself with, even if it distracted others and earned him the scorn of teachers.

In his free time Valentin was obliged by his family to perform at piano competitions and concerts, but whenever those required a bit too much waiting around he was likely to get into trouble, regardless of his mischief drawing the eyes of others around him. It didn’t seem to matter to Valentin when his impatience made a scene in public: his charismatic smile, laughter, and banter usually turned it into something positive, or at minimum, neutral.

Altogether, Valentin was naturally a charmer, but even more, when bored or lonely he went out of his way to get even more attention.

Approved
The stat total is 41 -- approved.
Approved charmer ability.

[font=Monotype Corsiva]MIKAEL HALLDORSON[/font]

Age 12 years

School Year 2nd Year

Race Human

Blood Status Pureblood

Appearance: Mikael is rather tall for his age, reaching a height of 5 feet and 3.5 inches. Mikael has dark brown hair that looks almost black. His hair is kept fairly short, and he has bangs that fall just at his brow line. Mikael has dark blue eyes that usually look like a dark blueish-grey. Though when the light hits them just right his eye color can look almost blueish-green. Mikael has lightly tanned skin. His skin is dusted with a couple of freckles. Mikael looks like a fairly nice person though he sometimes looks a touch too serious.

Personality: Outwardly, Mikael can be seen as a very kind, polite, and hardworking boy. He is willing to throw himself at any challenge and work on it till it is resolved. Mikael is fairly compassionate, and when he clicks with someone he has trouble seeing that person hurt. He wants to protect those around him, especially those he thinks as his friends. Though at times, Mikael can hate the fact that he cares so much for his friends. Especially when he feels like his feelings aren't being returned with the same vigor.

Mikael grew up in a very strict Pureblood family, that would stress the idea of honor. To him, his family name is his greatest pride and is not afraid to protect it at all costs even if can lead to trouble. Mikael works hard in his classes to prove that he deserves the Halldorson name. Mikael is the most like himself around to his close friends. Those not close to him may say they know him, though they are not even close to knowing.

History:
Mikael was born to Øistein and Ingeborg Halldorson, and grew up in Trondheim, Norway. He grew up having his head filled with his family's history. From a young age, his ancestors were put on a pedestal that he would have to reach one day. As a child, his favorite bedtime stories were not traditional stories. Instead, he listened to his nanny to recount his Great-Great grandfather's success in the wars he fought in. Mikael's youngest memories are of him tying a blanket around his neck, and acting out the stories he heard so often. Even to this day, he still thinks fondly of the heroic stories told to him. Mikael wants to make his Great-Great grandfather proud.

As Mikael grew older so did the burden his parents put on him. Gone were the sweet bedtime stories and replaced with the knowledge that if he failed he would disgrace his family name. Mikael was supposed to act properly like a good little Pureblood. He was no longer allowed to run around the house and play. Roughhousing was out of the question, and he was expected to study instead. Mikael wanted to make his parents proud so he followed their orders with little complaint.

Mikael was homeschooled for his entire life before he was sent away to Durmstrang. The boy was thrown for a culture shock as he was thrown into an environment he had never experienced before. Finding it hard to adjust, Mikael put on a mask in hopes of easing into his new environment. Mikael met Yefim, one of his closest friends now, after class. The two had stayed a little late to finish their projects. The two ended up talking for a good hour, and continued to talk on their way to dinner. It was at that moment that Mikael's mask began to crack, and he felt more at home at Durmstrang.

Quidditch Player:Yes

Approved

Character: Mikael Halldorson

Year: Third (40 points)

Broom: School broom

Stats:

Stamina: 8 | Evasions: 8 | Strength: 8 | Wisdom: 3 | Arcane Power: 4 | Accuracy: 9

Ability: Pending

Desired position: Chaser

Application for ability:
(Lovely Creature)

Reducio

Mikael Halldorson had been told all his life that he could be considered easy on the eyes. It had started when he was fairly little when his grandparents would call him their poster child. He had not thought much about it at the time. Though as Mikael grew up he realized just how much weight that statement would carry. Mikael's family considered Mikael to be their poster child. A child that represented and epitomized the entire family's image. Being the only male heir to the family, Mikael was supposed to look and act his best at all times. This meant staying well-groomed and using his best manners, especially when attending balls. Through schooling, Mikael could not help but notice how other's reacted around him. Boys and girls alike would turn their heads as he walked down the halls. Mikael could get people to do things for him just by giving the smallest bit of attention. The boy could simply smile to get what he wanted. For a child who liked to act out, it was the perfect way to cause trouble. On multiple occasions, the boy would convince others to give him their homework answers. To a child, it was the best thing that could happen even if it was morally wrong. When he was younger he had found it funny. Watching people become desperate over someone so easily. The boy had found thought it to be a silly thing to do. To give your heart over to someone to break. Mikael seemed to distract people just by entering in a place. Heads would turn to glance at him as he walked into his class or his dorm. He was told countless times that he was incredibly handsome and that any girl would be lucky to go out with him. Though as Mikael got older he became more resentful of how others treated him. Beauty would only last forever, and he wants to find someone to love him for him. When Mikael entered Durmstrang for his second year, the boy had more incidents of people trying to confess their feelings for him. It bugged the boy to no end since he would do nothing to give these suitors a reason to believe he liked them. Mikael could simply hold a conversation with a girl, and she would take it as flirting. Due to this, Mikael rarely hangs around with girls and instead spends his time with his best friend.

(WC:409)

Second-year: Terrible Presence
Application:

Reducio

Mikael Halldorson had always tried to be conscious of how other's may perceive him. He wanted nothing more to fit into the social climate that surrounded him. Afraid of not fitting in, the fear of being rejected by his fellow peers was constantly in the back of his mind. As a young child, Mikael looked to those around him to perceive how his other school mates acted. Piecing together a mask, where he was nothing but the golden child to his parents and the friendly student to his peers. Despite this, Mikael could not help but hate the mask he himself had formed and the guidelines he had created for himself. He should be empathetic to those around him and their problems. If someone were to fall he should help them stand back up. If someone were to cry he should do his best to console them. Pretend he actually cares about those around him. Afraid to break his little rules, but hating every second while under them. His fears stuck fast to him like a tar pit unwilling to let go of its latest victim. The mask he wore holding him captive for all of eternity. Yet, ever since Mikael's first year at Durmstrang, his mask has begun to crack. At first, the cracks started small though as time passed they slowly spread across the entirety of his porcelain mask. At the beginning of his third year, Mikael's carefully constructed mask shattered into a million pieces. Unable to handle the stress of continuing to live the lie any further. Mikael couldn't keep pretending he cared for those around him. The need to pretend to be someone he is not and to fit in has vanished. For the first time in a long time, Mikael's face feels naked when he stares into the mirror. Nothing left except his true self, and he swore to himself to never hide behind a mask ever again. It felt like he had finally come home after a long vacation. Though now, an unsettling aura seems to hang constantly around Mikael now as if something about the boy is off. It's like a cloud of smoke hanging and suffocating the surrounding environment. Anyone can see the stark difference between the boy and his younger self. A more genuine boy stands in front of his peers now. Apathetic to those around him. No longer willing to hide behind formalities. (WC: 403)

1.) Is your character a Broom Racer?: YES
2.) Is your character a Quidditch Player?: NO
3.) Is your character a Duelist? NO

Stats: Approved
Abilities: Approved

Name: Maksim “Max” Aleksandrovich (formerly Mikhailovich) Preobrazhensky

Reducio In Russian: Максим “Макс” Александрович (formerly Михайлович) Преображенский

Reducio His classmates will call him Maksim or Maksim Aleksandrovich. As of right now, only Vyacheslav may call him Max.

Age: Fourteen

School Year: Fourth Year

Race: Full Human

Blood Status: Wizard-born

Appearance: At first glance, Maksim already stands out from his peers with his dark skin and curly hair, but setting him apart even further are his facial expressions. In a castle known for its strict and cold education, Maksim has no problem with wearing his heart on his sleeve, and his face is the farthest thing from a poker face. Standing at a solid 173 cm, he is slightly taller than average and built with plenty of muscle to spare. His hair is always kept short on the sides but longer on top, and he has clear skin devoid of freckles or acne. His clothes tend to be on the more rumpled side, although he likes to dress nicely when he's not in uniform. He is never seen without a black leather Blancpain watch with a cracked glass face on his wrist, or a slightly chipped silver cross on a thin chain around his neck. The watch was his mother's, and the cross his father's. These two items, along with a photograph, are all he has left of his birth parents.

Picture: Reducio

Accessories: Reducio

Personality: Confident and borderline arrogant, Maksim doesn’t need to use words to talk. He is, if anything, a human embodiment of “Do it first, explain it later”. His body language does most of the talking for him, whether it’s his hands or his face, or just the way he’s presenting himself in general. He may be a boy of few words, but when he does speak, it is always sure to be something worth listening to. Additionally, he tends to turn a cold shoulder to anyone who tries to address him as "Max" without his permission, or anyone who dares to insult his brother in front of him. He is not afraid to draw his wand or use his fists when it comes to conflicts, even if it lands him in trouble.

While Maksim fancies himself to be quite the player, having never had much trouble in making friends or talking to girls, this couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, Maksim isn't quite sure he even likes girls, at all. He's tucked this problem away in his head for another day, but it's a problem that's coming to the surface more and more often as he's growing older and the girls are growing... well, prettier. And although he may come off as extremely happy-go-lucky and as silly as his brother, Maksim is a hard-working student who puts his all into everything he does. The second he sets his mind to something, it will get accomplished, no matter how much blood, sweat, and tears will be shed over it. However, it’s this same stubbornness that is his greatest weakness- his pride and inability to back down is a flaw that he has yet to learn to overcome.

History: In a life he’s long forgotten about, Maksim was born to Mikhail and Natalia Lebedev, two average wizards who were good friends with Aleksandr and Sofia Preobrazhensky. Consequently, Maksim grew up being best friends with their son, Vyacheslav, who was a year younger than him. After his parents died in a car crash when Maksim was 4, the Preobrazhenskys took him in as their own, raising him as their son. The adoption was made official a year later, and Maksim Lebedev became Maksim Preobrazhensky.

At Durmstrang, Maksim found himself drawn to martial and combat magic, even if he couldn’t study them as closely as he wanted to quite yet. While he’s only a fourth year, he has already decided that he will stay on to finish all eight years at Durmstrang, and hopefully, once he leaves, he will become a professional duelist. And, well, if that doesn’t work out, he’s been used to caring for Vyacheslav’s various scrapes, cuts, and the occasional sprain over the years. Being on the healing end of magical injuries is not a role unfamiliar to Maksim.

The summer before his fourth year, Maksim found himself taking a walk alongside a cliffside with Vyacheslav, and the two brothers were talking about nothing in particular. At least, nothing until Maksim brought up the Quidditch team. Although Vyacheslav was never the fondest of heights, Maksim was absolutely scared to death of heights and the sensation of falling, and he challenged his brother on a dare to try out for the Quidditch team. A triple dog dare. Therefore, by the law of macho men, Vyacheslav couldn’t possibly refuse. However, to both brothers’ surprise (and Maksim’s delight), Vyacheslav actually made the team. Not a single game has gone by without Maksim there to support his brother and best friend.

Is your character a Quidditch player? No.

Approved

Spoke with the owner of the iNPC Vyacheslav -- it is highly likely due to their position on the list that this user will get a quidditch position however because we are not there yet I am attempting to keep everyone aware.

statistics
stamina || 7
evasion || 6
strength || 6
wisdom || 11
arcane power || 5
accuracy || 10

abilities

year one: perfectionist.

Reducio

From a young age, Maksim has always made sure to do things right. Like Vyacheslav, he is loud and rambunctious, and he doesn't hesitate in the slightest to do the wacky and the crazy, but he has always made sure that he did everything to the very best of his ability. For him, if it wasn't perfect, then it simply wasn't good enough. "About" or "around" was never good enough, and guess-timating was simple out of the question: everything had to be exact. From learning phrases in English to making his bed, from washing the dishes to doing his schoolwork, everything was done with the utmost care and precision. Maksim refused for there to be any room for error.

Part of this stemmed from the car accident that ultimately took the life of his parents. His mother was an excellent driver with a pristine record, and yet, something so terrible still befell them. The only possible reason, Maksim had figured, was that they hadn't been completely prepared. Something had happened to throw his mother off her game, and because of that, they no longer walked the earth. If everything had gone perfectly that day, if his mother had slammed on the brakes just a fraction of a second sooner, things would be so different, today. Perfectionist was a mild way of describing Maksim- control freak would be far more accurate.

When it came to magic, Maksim was a natural. Latin may have been tricky for others to pronounce, but something about the dead language just made sense to him. Casting spells, and even duelling, was seen as an art to the young boy, and he launched himself into learning as much as he could, as well as he could. He practiced for hours and hours each day, perfecting his pronunciation, his wand movement, and his hand placement on his wand. If there ever came a time where he really needed magic, he would be ready, and he would not let down anyone who was counting on him.

But beyond an extremely traumatizing incident in his childhood that would scar any child for life, Maksim also had an insatiable hunger to be the best. Oh, he hid it quite well from most people, although Vyacheslav could see right through him in an instant. They were brothers and best friends, after all. But unbeknownst to everyone else, Maksim was one of the most overly-competitive people that could ever walk the earth. It was always in small ways, too- like who woke up the earliest, who stayed up the latest, who had the best hair, who could talk to the most girls, who had the best grades... But being so overly competitive also meant that Maksim naturally got better and better at everything he did.

Maksim has always had this need to be in control, and for everything to be as perfect as possible. Impeccable planning, hours and hours of practice, and an over-competitive drive are what fuels the young boy's actions, even if he masks it all with his charisma and good looks. It's always the smart ones who know how to lie that are the most dangerous. Despite how hard he's tried to hide it, without a doubt, Maksim is a total control freak. But, since that's a little rude to say to someone's face, many people prefer to identify him as a classic case of a perfectionist.

word count: 566
year two: evasive maneuvers.

Reducio

Maksim is an athletic young boy- or, at least, above average in terms of speed, stamina, and strength, combining to make someone who is more athletic than your average Russian Joe. Although he certainly isn't the strongest kid around, he is tall for his age, with a lean and slightly muscular build. In short, he looks like he could easily play any number of sports, all with great ease. He is light on his feet, extremely reactive to any changes around him, and in general, could remind one of a jumpy rabbit, ready to flee at a moment's notice.

Of course, much of this trait also stems from his parents' car crash, although obviously, he doesn't know that trauma changes the way people act. In his subconscious, though, hypotheticals replayed over and over again, as if he could find a parallel universe in which his parents had walked away from that awful accident. Maybe... maybe if his parents had been just quick enough, they could've avoided the other car altogether, or they could've gotten out of the car quicker, or... If things just hadn't gone so disastrously wrong, Maksim might've still had his parents here with him. He was not going to let that happen between him and his new family, the Preobrazhenskys, and thus, had made sure that he was always in the best possible form to dodge any horrendous situations that might arise.

Beyond a crippling trauma that deeply affected the young boy's every personality trait, you simply had to be good at dodging things when you had a younger brother- specifically, if you had a younger brother who was a troublemaker. The Preobrazhensky brothers were always messing around with each other, whether it was at their parents' pub entertaining the patrons, or outside taking walks around the city. He learned to dodge any joking punches, duck away from any thrown Quaffles or balls, and avoid any embarrassing kisses from their mother in public.

Now, Maksim uses his lithe build to his advantage. An aspiring duellist, the young Durmstrang student takes every chance he gets to take advantage of Durmstrang's grand duelling hall, testing his skills against his classmates. With time and practice, of course Maksim has gotten better at dodging all manner of jinxes and hexes from the bloodthirsty Durmstrang students. After all, if it saves getting hurt day in and day out, it's worth improving at. The agile and graceful young boy is determined to avoid trouble at all costs, both physical and mental.

word count: 417
year three: charmer.

Reducio

It's no secret that Maksim fancies himself to be a bit of a hottie. In fact, he likes to flaunt it at every possible moment, and his confidence is only bolstered by the comments of, "Oh, what a(n) adorable/wonderful/amazing/handsome child you are!" from patrons of his parents' pub. Borderline arrogant, he has no problem talking to anyone and everyone in an effort to make everyone like him. Or, you know, to flirt with everyone possible, gender be damned.

Of course, Maksim's already had lots of practice charming people. As a natural people-person, even from a young age, it was only natural for him to strike up a conversation with the magical community that passed through his parents' pub. From the people, whether they were locals or from around the globe, the young boy learned to hone his conversational skills, and also learned quite a few other languages. He could hardly claim to be fluent in them, but he is certainly much better at them than most other young wizards in Russia. His English is remarkably good for someone who's never left Russia, and knows quite a lot more than the average kid at school about the language.

Talking to adults all the time also taught Maksim how to sweet-talk others into getting his way. More often than not, at the pub, he can be seen chatting to the adults in such a manner that they end up scrambling for their wallets, to buy him some food or a drink; and from his family's pub, no less! While he is no Veela, his undeniable charm and suave demeanor puts most people at ease in his presence. Well, most adults, anyhow. With other kids, it is probable that they see him as more of a smooth-talker or a suck-up than a charming, charismatic young man, although it does seem like Maksim gets more than his fair share of friendly favors and bonus help from his classmates.

He has absolutely no qualms about flashing a blindingly white smile and tossing around some puppy-dog eyes if he ever needs a leg up on everyone else. Does this make him ruthless? A little bit, yeah. But the very things that make him a dangerous enemy make him a powerful ally and a fantastic friend. Maksim knows how to turn on his charms when he needs them, and his charisma and personality can be just as dangerous as his wand when Maksim wants to use them as weapons. Indubitably (how's that for an SAT word?), Maksim Preobrazhensky is a charming young man.

word count: 425

any and all mentions of and content pertaining to ruby cazares' inpc vyacheslav preobrazhensky have been approved of by ruby herself.

edit: Maksim is not a Quidditch player.

Approved

I am a tad confused if your parents are alive or not. I might just be sleepy of confused. To be clear, your wizard-born mother was driving a car? This is highly unusual because of how separated wizards are from muggles (it is why we have muggle studies). Regardless, approved.

Name: Vyacheslav “Slava” Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky

In Russian: Вячеслав “Слава” Александрович Преображенский

Age: 13
School Year: Third Year
Race: Human
Blood Status: Wizard-born

Appearance: Vyacheslav doesn't particularly stand out in a crowd due to his height—160 cm, around average for his age. His dark curls frame a pale face, a smattering of light freckles across his nose and cheeks. His brown eyes are alight with mischief, a constant spark accompanied by a cheeky grin. He has a tendency to leave shirts untucked and doesn't care for pristine appearances. The occasional bruise and scratch is a given considering his reckless nature.

Personality: Overconfident and thrill-seeking, Vyacheslav can become annoying to many quite quickly, especially considering the fact that he has no qualms with being loud and talking to fill the silence. He seems unable to take most things seriously, preferring to joke or cause trouble instead of confronting problems that arise. Once he is friends with someone, he is loyal and there will never be a dull moment, dragging people along with him to explore new places or exchange dares. He has a weak sense of self-preservation and would go to great lengths to protect a friend, complete a dare, or even to entertain someone.

He is unable to back down from a challenge and is headstrong, cocky, stubborn, and impulsive. He acts immediately, often without thinking, and worries about the consequences later. He also angers quickly and his verbal jabs can easily lead to physical fights. His self-control is poor in those types of situations, but overall he is happy-go-lucky and seeks fun and excitement. He is likely to show affection through teasing, going out of his way to spend more time with loved ones, and the occasional heartfelt moment.

History: Aleksandr and Sofia met when they were students at Durmstrang. They were both members of wizarding families and excelled in their respective fields. Years after their schooling ended, their paths crossed again and they married. They eventually produced a son, Vyacheslav. The first few years of his life were mostly uneventful, just a toddler exploring the world around him and his parents having to keep him out of danger. His best friend from this age onwards was Maksim, son of Mikhail and Natalia Lebedev. The adults had been close friends for years, so their sons saw each other a lot starting almost at Vyacheslav’s birth. Maksim's parents died when he was four, and he was adopted by the Preobrazhenskys. Because Vyacheslav was only three at the time, he does not remember any time when Maksim was not his brother.

They were a happy family, living a little beyond comfortably in terms of wealth. Aleksandr and Sofia have always been good parents, giving their sons proper care and attention. They are not overbearing, but they are invested in their sons' happiness. Joking, fun, kind-hearted, and fair, they are loved by their sons. They studied some Dark Magic at Durmstrang, but only use those skills when necessary for protection or specifics of their jobs, and don't care for it much otherwise. They taught their sons that magic—regardless of whether its nature is dark or not—should only be used for good.

As they got older, Vyacheslav and Maksim fed off of each other's energy and they could get a bit out of control. They are truly close and would do anything to protect one another, and this has led to many situations involving conflict with others. Vyacheslav knows that no matter what, he can count on Maksim. Dares and wildness play a large role in their friendship, and the younger of the two even joined Quidditch on a dare. He was afraid of heights—although not as severely as his brother—and he was shocked when he actually received the position. While apprehensive about it, he was never one to pass up an opportunity, so he trained hard and eventually overcame his fear, realising that he enjoyed the sport after all.

The boy's time at Durmstrang had been enjoyable so far. He continues to mess around and get into trouble, but he truly does like it there. He has not thought far enough into the future as to get a sense of which branch of magic he will go into, but he reckons that he will be staying for all eight years. Maksim plans to, and the two are virtually inseparable, so Vyacheslav sees no reason why he shouldn't accompany his brother for the remaining years.

Is your character a Quidditch player?: Yes

Approved

Very high on the list, very likely she will get her coveted role, however it is important for her to remain aware that we are not there yet.

Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky

Statistics
Stamina: 8
Evasion: 7
Strength: 10
Wisdom: 6
Arcane Power: 5
Accuracy: 10

Abilities

First Ability: Evasive Maneuvers

Reducio

Vyacheslav, even at the young age of 13, had already been involved in perhaps more than his fair share of fights. His desire for the rush of adrenaline and his tendency to tease people and stir up trouble had pushed others over the edge many a time. Still, he mostly enjoyed it, even if his older brother had to come save his neck sometimes. He learned to dodge, to be light on his feet, and to sharpen his senses so that he would know when people were coming—which also helped him avoid getting caught when he set up pranks. With endless amounts of energy, reacting quickly and ducking or jumping to the side was never a problem.

At home, he got practice by dodging Maksim when messing around. While Vyacheslav was often the one to initiate it, Maksim wasn't afraid to hit back—jokingly with his fists or by throwing objects at him in a futile attempt to get him to shut up. When he was younger, a fair amount of them would hit, but he soon learned to dodge and would do so with a huge, self-satisfied grin while continuing to babble on about whatever he was annoying his brother with that day.

Once, he got to see a travelling circus. In awe of the acrobatics in the performances, he persuaded his parents to sign him up for gymnastics. He did that for years before going to Durmstrang, and continued to return there during the summers. He had a natural affinity for it, and became rather good at it after lots of practice. Using it as a way to dodge was almost too showy and unnecessary, even for him, so he used it sparingly. However, these skills and the training made him more nimble and improved his flexibility and reflexes.

A flicker in his peripheral vision, the sound of footsteps, the slight raising of a voice, an innate sense… all of them would alert the boy to impending danger. Avoiding getting hit became something ingrained in his nature, and he started doing it almost subconsciously, moving in response to the small signals before he even realised that he had spotted them. He could dodge hexes, punches, and things that his brother threw at him, often in the morning in an attempt to wake him up or if he got irritated after Vyacheslav woke him up instead. Sometimes he still got hit, but it was undeniable that he had improved greatly over the years.

Word Count: 413 words

Second Ability: Broken Broomshaft

Reducio

Quidditch. It was one of the things that Vyacheslav had become most passionate about, even if that had only taken effect in the past year. He had had a minor fear of flying until he put himself out there and joined the Quidditch team on a dare. He realised that he was starting to enjoy it, and the fear dissipated with a little bit of time and the thrill of some danger. There was always the risk of being hit with a bludger and off of his broom, but there was also the chance that he could hit back. Hard.

Impulsive, reckless, and hotheaded with a penchant for insults were not good traits to have if one wanted to stay out of trouble. Slava made no attempt to avoid it, provoking people regardless of the consequences. Light on his feet after years passed, his dodging had improved, but the fact remained that he had to get help from Maksim or flee a lot of the time. Sure, he had fists and learned to use them, and he wasn't weak, but he was often faced with bigger and stronger opponents. He had to learn to do more damage.

Training was the simplest way to improve, getting his brother and parents to help him practice or set up equipment. His parents didn't approve of the physical fighting, but it was difficult to stop him and there was no harm in being prepared with self-defense techniques in case things ever went wrong or magic couldn't be used. He managed to make some progress in this time, and he just got further with that in his years at Durmstrang, particularly during his first year of joining the Quidditch team. His motivation was rekindled by the desire to be the best at what he did. His highly competitive nature helped him improve himself and his strength.

Slava was not a boy with a tough upbringing or tragic past, and he frequently struggled to take things seriously. Despite that, he did get knocked down—literally and occasionally metaphorically—but he would always get back up again and finish what he started. His determination didn't cease and he learned to hold his own without needing as much help from his brother. He began hitting things with enough force to sometimes break them. He was a happy kid with a good heart, but a rather destructive nature. This nature was demonstrated in Quidditch by his position as a Beater and from the first time he broke someone's broom.

Word Count: 420 words

Third Ability: Charmer

Reducio

Bright eyes and an ever-present smile seemed to define Vyacheslav. Perhaps not taking things seriously made him foolish, but he enjoyed living life. He felt emotions powerfully and the joy that came with the dawn of a new day never ceased to refresh him every morning. An energetic spirit and a laugh always at the ready made him get along with many people. His impulsivity and the fact that he was rarely ever quiet got him into his fair share of trouble, but he would bounce back each time, and his recklessness made him fun. He was incredibly loyal and would do anything to make sure that the people he cared about would keep smiling.

He grew up with an older brother and parents who owned a pub. People from all over the world passed through and Slava would never hesitate to attempt to entertain them in return for a few stories. When he was little, kind visitors would buy the cute kid with a smile too wide for his own face a snack or gently tell him about their travels. Adventures had always been his favourite—both to hear about or to attempt to go on. He dragged his brother on many a fantasy quest in their childhood, most of them inspired by the tales he had been told. When a few more years went by, he took more of an interest in sports or fighting as adventures, but he still enjoyed talking to the people who spent time at the pub.

Maksim was far better at sweet-talking than Slava had ever been, but that hardly bothered him. His eagerness made up for whatever refined smooth-talking he lacked, and he developed a natural charisma as his early childhood faded away. There was something about his mirthful energy that tended to attract people without him having to try. It was in his nature to make sure that he and anyone who didn't oppose him was having fun. He had no qualms with doing things that other people would consider embarrassing or making silly faces to try to cheer a friend up. He had no training in proper etiquette compared to many of the purebloods that filled the school, but he truly cared and he was nothing if not real and genuine in everything he did.

Fake masks to make people like him was never his style. As long as his brother and his closest friends still cared about him in return, he would not worry himself with whether a stranger liked him or not. Despite that, he would never hesitate to try to impress someone or rise to a challenge, so long as it was by being himself. The more he grew up, the more sure of himself he became, and when he was confident in his own abilities, it showed. It allowed him to love other people fully without much penalty, as he knew that even if they hurt him by leaving, his family would always be there for him and he wouldn't hate himself for being unable to please everyone. The content child would instead go into most situations with an open mind and an endless amount of excitement.

Word Count: 530

Broom: Silver Arrow

Note:Mentions of Maksim Preobrazhensky were approved by Ami Procoppio.

Approved

1.) Is your character a Broom Racer?: No.
2.) Is your character a Quidditch Player?: Yes.
3.) Is your character a Duelist?: No.

Alexei is surprisingly tall for a 13-year-old, standing at 5'7". He has light brown hair which he usually spends far too much time styling so that it looks effortless. He is muscularly built, and overall is rather physically intimidating to people his age. He has dark eyes that are constantly moving and never stop on one thing for very long.

Alexei is certainly special. He is bright, but lazy, meaning his grades are barely above average. He is also incredibly vain. Coming from a wealthy well-known pureblood family means that he has a certain confidence and air about him. He is extremely ambitious, with his personality aligning fairly closely to a Slytherin. He feels as though he has something to prove, and is completely dismissive and rude to people that he doesn't believe can help him further his goals. He would fight anyone who said this, but he is also extremely insecure. However, to hide his insecurity, he comes off as overly arrogant. His sisters were both Quidditch players during school, but Alexei isn't fond of the sport.

He also has a need to assert his dominance around other boys, which means he doesn't have many friends. He tries to flirt with pretty much every girl he considers pretty but just comes off as a jerk.

Alexei's childhood was fairly normal for a Pureblood. He has twin older sisters and 4 older brothers, Natalia is the eldest, she's currently finishing her last year of studying to become an alchemist. Her twin, Alia, is training to be a dragon master. His brothers are 2 sets of twins, Boris and Ivan, and Grigory and Yegor, respectively, that are all finishing up their last years at Durmstrang. Being the youngest means that he has a lot to live up to. He was also an unexpected child and grew up spoiled but lonely. All of his siblings were older and had someone that just seemed to get them. He never had that. Still, he had everything a child could ever want and his parents doted on their precious youngest. With so much to live up to, Alexei yearns to be exceptional.

His mother, Anastasia, and his father, Leo, definitely coddle him. While having the family he has means that he feels like he's living in a shadow, he is the apple of their eye, and he has a genuinely good relationship with them. His mother is a Healer, and his father has some fancy job that Alexei really doesn't understand.

Is he a Quidditch player?

No

Approved

Stats: Approved