Vladimir "Drakul" Zaharie

You minimize the hurt you gave me. You minimize the pain that plagues me.

Appearance

He's covered in piercings, some you'll see when you see him, some you will never see. To a more serious point though, he has short, strawberry blonde hair that he refuses to grow out past his shoulders, and his red eyes have been covered up and turned a green, by contacts, to hide the heinous truth that he’s a Sheikah

He loves his hat, and will get angry if it's taken off of him. He's almost always cold, so he constantly wears this hat to help compensate for it. His clothing is incredibly difficult to explain, getting down the root of all this, and it may take the average person a couple of glances to figure out what he's wearing. And it's even funnier when they look for a weapon on him, they won't find it, unless they look really hard at his outer, right ankle.

When he's tending to the graveyard, he takes off his hat for once though, and replaces it with the hood of a black cloak. His shirt and tie also come off, and he walks around the graveyard with minimal color on him. He’s been known to startle the people that visit if they don’t know how to look for him since he blends into the darkness so well and moves without a sound.

---

Personality

He tends to keep to himself on most things, and when found alone, is quiet and thoughtful. He does love to talk about certain things, but not when the other person won't shut up and only whenever he thinks it’s worth the time to talk to that person, which isn’t often, if at all. When people fail to make intellectual comments, and spout bullshit, he finds himself enraged at the other person and will attempt to blow them out of the room.

He has no close friends, has felt like he never made one, and can’t ever recall a time if he ever did. As a result, no one has gotten a chance to see how open he can be, no one but the dead that he considers to be his only friends. And surely, the dead typically dislikes what they see out of his aura when he’s left alone to his thoughts. This lonely blonde Sheikah bears a lot of hatred for many, many things.

While he would grant a place for merchants to sleep without being ambushed, the list of what he hates is actually too big to compile. He stays to himself and the dead, brooding about what could have happened if maybe he had stayed behind in Ikana. He often wonders about these things while he sits awake at night.

To wrap it up, he's mostly a brooding pile of hatred that's slowly teetering the grey smudged line between good and evil. But he does have things he cares about, even if he refuses to show it.

---

History

Vladimir grew up, very far away, in a place almost further away than you could imagine from the civilization that you know. But he grew up alone, for the most part. His father disappeared at a young age, and by young age, I mean when he was conceived. No one knew where he went, and Vladimir's mother passed away when he was only 6 years old.

Ikana Valley was always such a haunted place, filled with lingering ghosts and Vlad always felt them. Whether it was a weight on his chest while he tried to sleep, or he communicated with them directly as he grew up. He was always an odd child, he felt, a freak.

His mother is the only kind thing he can directly remember from his time in Ikana. Almost everything else to him is a blur, especially faces, not that he wants to remember anyways. Her bright smile no matter how ill she felt that day, was always directed at Vlad when he showed up to do his best to take care of her. As good as a toddler could, until she passed away. She refused to seek help from the Sheikah village. To her, they always pushed too far into things they shouldn’t, but Vlad was too young to understand that.

Some of the other Sheikah from a neighboring village had adopted the boy when his mother passed away. He didn’t want it, and fought against them, but he had to go anyway, there was no choice for him. They raised Vladimir, telling him that his parents should have never moved that far away from the village, that where they lived was cursed. But Vladimir didn't care, he didn't pay attention. More often than not, he was scolded for sneaking away to go clean off some of the abandoned, neglected graves or just wandering off to be alone in general.

Ikana was too violent, therefore the Sheikah there traveled in pairs. The wandering spirits of the Garo were one of the many threats they faced, but one of their biggest. His scolding carried on though, until he finally reached the point in his schooling for Sheikah skills that they partnered them up. He hated it, but he had to deal with it, it wasn’t his choice. When he was seven, he was partnered with another boy, raven black hair and ruby red eyes, just like Vlad, he would have passed for a normal Sheikah were it not for the hair. As they stood next to each other in front of the master that partnered them up it became apparent he was just as quiet and detached looking as Vladimir.

The boy wound up not being half bad to young Vlad, but young Vlad was still angry and bitter, so he was good at pretending he hated it, or so he thought. If his partner showed up to study in the same room as him, he didn’t chase him off with magic or by kicking him, he just let it happen.

It was odd for him to have a friend, and it was very odd for him to have a sparring partner that could actually throw a spell on par with his, much less pushed back evenly when he overdid himself. Vlad grew off of this friendship, even if he didn’t remember it.

It also paid off when he found himself in the well when he was ten, surrounded by Gibdo that ultimately overwhelmed him. As he was phasing in and out of consciousness, he still remembers what happened as vividly as the day it happened, but the face that lifted him up after scorching the gibdo was obscured. It was his partner, but he can’t recall that part of that memory.

Vlad’s recovery was a bumpy road, but with faces so blurry in his own memory, he probably wouldn’t have been able to tell you everything that happened during his own recovery if he did remember clearly.

Other than that, between that and the year he left, not much else happened. At least not much else he would be able to remember. He trained with the same partner and traveled with him, he was even there to help him fight the Garo and ran to his side to carry him back to the village. But he doesn’t remember that either, he can’t remember the face of his own partner both willingly and unwillingly.

He still didn’t like being a Sheikah though, and he had no reason to stay. So as soon as he graduated a fully fledged Sheikah, he prepared himself to leave without warning, and as he stood at the foot of the Canyon on the road out, he still saw all of the Poe roaming his former home, and was powerless to do anything to help them. It shattered his heart to see his only friends, trapped there, roaming forever in an agony that would never end, while he was stuck in this stupid village, surrounded by people trying to make him what he never wanted to be. He doesn’t remember he also saw his partner watching from a distance, much less failed to remember he helped him pack his bag. He was watched to make sure he left the valley safely.

He never wanted to be a Sheikah, never ever. He didn't honor the blood within his veins, and when he had turned seventeen and ran away, and began a long, painful adventure. It was full of trials to overcome, but it was rewarded in the end. He saw the tale tale sign of the other civilization. Hyrule castle. He was swift to change his identity upon entering this new place. Getting green contacts and obtaining quite a few piercings, meant to symbolize pain and the marks left on him from the spirits of his home.

He wandered for a while after arriving in this new place, until finally, he found some place that would feel a lot like home to him. He found a town, with a graveyard that was in a disgustingly disgraceful bit of disrepair in some spots. He quickly found someone to talk to, and as it turned out, the gravekeeper before Vladimir came along had just quit a week ago. He never did his job well, and they'd be more than happy to see what kind of job Vladimir could do. But he would be under scrutiny, of course, not like Vlad wasn’t used to it.

---

Miscellaneous Information

He will fight Poes and other undead/ethereal, but when fighting without reason, it will make him upset.

Nobody knows how his mother died. The Sheikah village that took over raising him blamed a curse, since Vladimir refused to mention any details about how she died.

If it wasn't obvious, he hates that he's a Sheikah.

He's always cold because he tries to comfort sorrowful spirits. These spirits may or may not mean to do this to him. But Vladimir has been known to return with cold limbs, and spots of first stage frostbite.

He has had an out of body experience once, thanks to the experience in the well. I can’t give you the full details of what happened, but he was harmed and damaged enough and that’s why he wears bandages to cover his hands, and why he never takes his shirt off. It also includes how he learned to respect the space of gibdo and redead. His torso and arms are covered in scars.

The poe of his mother follows him around, and watches over him. She will move on when she's content with what he finds he is. Whatever that may be.

Vlad has Anxiety, PTSD and some more. He's receiving help for it.