Yesterday, 19:35
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
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ᴘʀᴏꜰɪʟᴇ
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ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ
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ʙɪᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ
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ʙᴀᴄᴋꜱᴛᴏʀʏ
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ꜰɪᴏᴍ
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ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴꜱ
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ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴꜱ
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ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ
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ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛꜱ
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ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ
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ʜᴏʙʙɪᴇꜱ
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ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ & ᴅɪꜱʟɪᴋᴇꜱ
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ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ
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ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ
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ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ
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ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ
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ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ
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ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴅꜱ
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ᴘᴇᴛ
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ᴀɴɪᴍᴀɢᴜꜱ
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ɪɴᴠᴇɴᴛᴏʀʏ
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ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴅ
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ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴅᴜᴍᴘ
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ᴛᴏ-ᴅᴏ
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ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ
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ᴏᴏᴄ
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ʙᴀɴɴᴇʀꜱ
Last edited by Ophelia Vanderbilt on 18 Jul 2026, 20:49, edited 4 times in total.


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then

Yesterday, 19:37
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
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statistics
sta - 7
eva - 5
str - 8
wis - 5
arc - 4
acc - 6

abilities
Y1 - xxx
Y2 - xxx
Y3 - xxx
Y4 - xxx
Y5 - xxx
Y6 - xxx
Y7 - xxx

Last edited by Ophelia Vanderbilt on 18 Jul 2026, 21:41, edited 3 times in total.


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then

Yesterday, 20:09
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
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ᴠᴇɴɪ ᴠɪᴅɪ ᴠɪᴄɪ

name. theodore alexei
surname. vorona-russo
alias. theo, alex
birthdate. 24th november 2014
age. eleven
gender. male
pronouns. he/him
school. durmstrang
year. first
nationality. russian-italian
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moscow, russian federation .residence
quidditch player .sport
sagittarius .zodiac
human .species
pure-blood .status
italian, russian, english .languages
kayden hammond .face claim
xxx .amortentia
xxx .patronus
xxx .boggart
Last edited by Ophelia Vanderbilt on 18 Jul 2026, 20:20, edited 3 times in total.


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then

Yesterday, 20:10
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
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Theodore Alexei Vorona-Russo is the only son of the Vorona-Russo family. His father, Vincenzo Russo, is the eldest son and the current patriarch of the Russo family. His mother, Ekaterina Vorona, is the eldest daughter of the Vorona family. Both of these families were pure-bloods, the Russo family having always attended Beauxbatons, and the Vorona family always attending Durmstrang.

When Vincenzo and Ekaterina met, it was in their sixth year at their school in a ball hosted in Hogwarts. Their families welcomed each other due to both of them being pure-bloods and having similar traditions, and accepted their relationship. One year after their graduation, Vincenzo proposed to Ekaterina with a bouquet containing nine hundred and ninety-nine red roses. The proposal took place at night in the Russo manor’s garden. Vincenzo had knelt down after giving Ekaterina the bouquet and took out a red, elegant ring box, and opened it. Inside, there was a silver ring with a Burma Ruby gemstone.

Their wedding took place in the ballroom of the Vorona manor, the theme being dark red -Ekaterina’s favorite color- and black -Vincenzo’s favorite color. Three years later, after Vincenzo was succeeded as the Head of the Russo family and had inherited one of the manors, and Il Cerchio Rosso The Red Circle, and building the organization into a more dangerous and feared one, Ekaterina got pregnant with Theodore.

As the only child, Theodore was cherished by his parents, but not by his grandfathers. Theodore’s parents loved him, and how he always seemed to be a shy and polite kid. When Theodore was a child, Vincenzo took him with him to the headquarters of Il Cerchio Rosso, and even the blood thirsty members loved the kid and always brought him a small gift, be it a toy or a candy.

When Theodore wasn’t with his father, he’d spend time with Ekaterina, who was a soft-spoken but elegant woman. She’d take him shopping or to a cafe, and they talked about everything. Well, almost everything.

Theodore was always happy and smiling around his parents, but not very much so when he was being ‘babysat’ by his grandfathers. Ekaterina’s mother had died when she was in her fifth year at Durmstrang. Vincenzo’s grandmother was targeted by the enemy organization and died when he was sixteen years old. These occurrences resulted in Theodore only having his two grandfathers left, who didn’t treat him like the kid he was.

Ivanov Vorona and Alessandro Russo had teamed up in adultifying him. Whenever Theodore was at one of their places, they’d be training him. From the ages of one to three, Vincenzo and Ekaterina didn’t want to let him be out of their sight, not even with their fathers. But after he turned four, they started to be less cautious and agreed to their fathers babysitting him when they had to go to events or dates together.

Ivanov and Alessandro taught him manners and asking for permission from ages four to five. When Theodore turned six, boxing lessons started to keep him fit. Boxing was a Muggle sport that both bloodlines had taken a liking to and had been doing to stay in shape, strong, and fit. This was going to be passed down to the later generations.

Whenever Theodore spoke without the required manners or did something specific without asking for permission in front of the grandparents, he was glared at and slapped softly across the face, so as not to leave a red mark or hurt badly. He was also told not to tell anything about his training to his legal guardians until they understood themselves.

Vincenzo has a younger brother, Santino Russo. Santino was a respected and respectful guy, who was, unlike what may be said in books, not jealous of his older brother. Theodore usually saw him at family events and when he was invited as a guest to the Vorona-Russo manor. He taught Theodore how to throw a ball, and Vincenzo watched his son smiling while spending time with his twenty-year-old uncle. Santino was quite a good and well-liked student in Beauxbatons and was currently an Auror in Training.

Ekaterina had a younger brother and a younger sister who were twins. Sergei was a quiet and nerdy boy who proceeded in studying Herbology, now being a Novice Herbologist. He received support from his siblings in this path, not as much from his father. Svetlana was rather the opposite of her younger twin. She was loud, not nerdy but also not dumb. After she finished her studies in Durmstrang, she started her profession as a Quidditch player, now being a First-String Chaser. Theodore saw them, like Santino, only in family events and when they were invited to their manor as guests.
Last edited by Ophelia Vanderbilt on 18 Jul 2026, 20:20, edited 1 time in total.


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then

Yesterday, 20:10
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
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One night, when Theodore was boxing in the Russo manor, his grandfather started getting the impression that Theodore was slacking. He was. He’d been training for an hour already, and his eight-year-old body was exhausted, even though he’d been doing this for three years now.

Alessandro frowned, not enjoying the way the young boy’s arms looked as if they were made out of jelly. He started to get frustrated with the young boy, spitting out toxic words as motivation, next to multiple Italian curse words under his breath.

Theodore started to hit harder with each word that was leaving Alessandro’s mouth. Each punch made a satisfying sound as it hit the boxing bag, one after another, and each of them got stronger and stronger. The boxing bag had survived three generations of boys: Alessandro, Vincenzo, Santino.

Another toxic motivation was spat out, and Theodore hit the bag at it. Immediately, the bag exploded. It didn’t tear. The foam didn’t spill out. The bag and the foam inside literally exploded, but did not burn Theodore. His shirt, which was on the floor, caught on fire, but Theodore wasn’t hurt.

Alessandro was shocked at first. Then he let out a laugh and walked toward Theodore. He cast a spell and put out the fire. Then he turned to Theodore and patted his back and praised the boy for this, not at all minding that the punching bag was ruined to… nothing.
Last edited by Ophelia Vanderbilt on 18 Jul 2026, 20:21, edited 1 time in total.


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then

Yesterday, 20:10
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
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C-PTSD
Theodore despised being told what to do. He was used to it by now, but that didn’t mean he loved it. He hated it in silence, but still did what he was told to do. But when he was told by his parents that they wanted him to see a psychologist, just to know how much their fathers had already influenced the child, he lost it. They argued, something they didn’t do often, if it was even being done. Vincenzo wasn’t a fan of raising his voice, he’d do it if it got the job done at work, but he’d never yell at his wife and son. But Theodore, his soft childlike voice screamed at them that he was fine; that he didn’t need to be be looked at like he was crazy by some so-called professional who could never convince him that his words were being kept private and between them. Now, the crazy part was that Theodore was yelling, because he never yelled. They didn’t take him to the psychologist, instead, they went to the professional themselves and described him their son’s behaviour.

Emotional disregulation, it was called. Theodore, composed, calm, and cold Theodore, had trouble controlling his emotions. Sometimes they got the best of him, like when he yelled at his parents. Sometimes they got buried so deep that he could swear he’d be throwing them up at some point.

Then, interpersonal struggles. That was to be expected, given how much trouble his grandfathers had put him in. How much they’d pressured and exhausted him. And how he didn’t trust a psychiatrist, who claimed wouldn’t say a word to not even his parents. Due to his grandfathers keeping the training a secret from the parents who had to go through the more or less same thing, Theodore also started trusting them and his parents less.

The boy wasn’t risky. That was what everyone thought of him, because he was always in high alert, always looking around when he went out as if there was a paranoia following him everywhere he went. Oh, but he was. He remembered when he was playing with his childhood friend, when they did so many childish, risky, almost life-costing stuff. But did the kids care? No, not at all. They were having fun, they didn’t think of them walking on rails or fences to be that much of a big deal. But ever since he stopped getting messages from his best friend, he got worse, and he shut down even more. He was now more on alert, and spent more of his time in the basement, training. He missed his bestfriend, and his disappearance infleunced him a lot.

His grandfathers, having always wanted to adultify him, proceeded in making the young boy start drinking and smoking at the young age of twelve. Sadly a quite common and normal thing for Russian children to start using these substances at a young age, although Theodore’s wasn’t very voluntarily. But those, eventually, became his way to cope with stress and pressure.

Note: This is a general thing. Won’t edit it for his next years, the cigs and alcohol aren’t used when he’s under twelve, but I’m writing it now so I don’t have to re-register, and so that the idea of his condition and symptoms makes more sense with a way to cope.
Last edited by Ophelia Vanderbilt on 18 Jul 2026, 20:23, edited 1 time in total.


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then

Yesterday, 20:10
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
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chronic migraine note: starts after the end of third year
Being in the loud and crowded school of Durmstrang for quite some time, Theodore’s ability to concentrate suddenly started to get worse. He got dizzy more often, had lack of appetite, and a lot of headaches migraines. He, of course, being Theodore, didn’t tell anyone about the annoying feelings of weakness. The migraines always lasted six hours to days, and every time he had them, he couldn’t sleep; but his awake self sweated a lot and he had this feeling of neausea following him everywhere he went; the amount of times he ditched his group of friends to throw up somewhere private was uncountable.

His head felt heavy, and there was a pounding behind his eyes. And, as much as he hated it, it kept getting worse whenever he ran away from his friends. Because, no way in hell they’d see him like this: weak, shivering, throwing up. The light could’ve as well killed him, at this point he had to learn where the walls, doors, and stairs were by heart, because no way he could keep his eyes open for more than two seconds.


addiction note: addiction part starts after he turns fifteen
One way to cope with his C-PTSD was alcohol and cigarettes, which he had started taking involuntarily, forced to do so by his grandfathers, but never stopped. He’d eventually found comfort in them. Whenever he felt weak and sad, he grabbed a bottle. Something that would make him forget his pain, and his worthlessness. How he hated getting high, but oh, how he loved it. Because alcohol didn’t judge him. Alcohol didn’t call him a weak link. Alcohol let him die happy. And smoke? The thing filled his with agony and pain filled lungs with forgetting and happiness. He knew, always knew, when he got high enough that his pupils dilated. And he loved the feeling of knowing that. It gave him a sense of control, that no matter how exhausted and melancholic and drunk he was, he could still stop whenever he wanted. Or he could drink to the point of nausea until one of his friends dragged him away from the place or stopped his reckless behavior with his health.
Last edited by Ophelia Vanderbilt on 18 Jul 2026, 20:25, edited 1 time in total.


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then

Yesterday, 20:10
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
ph


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then

Yesterday, 20:10
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
ph


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then

Yesterday, 20:10
ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴇxᴇɪ ᴠᴏʀᴏɴᴀ-ʀᴜꜱꜱᴏ
ph


i knew who i was this morning, but i've changed a few times since then