(no subject)
[normally he'd be a bit more quiet and subtle about having escaped from his captors' immediate attentions. one look at this place tells Vlad, though, that he's not in the Ottoman Empire anymore. people wear strange clothing- nothing like what the Turks wear, nothing like the ripped, dirty rags he wears, nothing like what his father or mother or brother wore. in fact, the building calls to mind a distant echo of his home. the longer the bruised, badly-beaten boy explores, the braver he gets, until he's finally holding his head up high and glaring suspiciously at everything he sees that he doesn't recognize.]
[of course, it's possible that he's the subject of a cruel joke, but... perhaps God has finally answered his calls?]
((OOC: Tinycard is a go! He's always been a crazy-ass mofo, though right now he's a bit less crazy-ass and more confused. What are lightbulbs. Wat.))
[of course, it's possible that he's the subject of a cruel joke, but... perhaps God has finally answered his calls?]
((OOC: Tinycard is a go! He's always been a crazy-ass mofo, though right now he's a bit less crazy-ass and more confused. What are lightbulbs. Wat.))