Zlatan "Z" Kanus

The Haunted Artist
This character belongs to Lissy

Zlatan, who prefers to be called, "Z", is a Bosnian fifth year Mielkutė in EESM.


Zlatan "Z" Kanus

The Haunted Artist

Vital Statistics
Age fifteen
Date of Birth May 20th, 1999
Birth Place Visoko, Bosnia and Herzegovina
Ethnicity Bosnian
Accent Bosnian
Species Human
Blood Status Half-blood

Physical Characteristics
Gender Male
Eye Color Brown
Hair Color Blond/brown
Height 5'6"
Weight 140
Magical Characteristics
Wand Wood Pine
Wand Core Phoenix feather
Wand Length 11 1/2
Wand Arm left
Patronus Hawk
Boggart Losing to depression
Amortentia Oil paint, fresh parchment, grass
Mirror of Erised His family, happy and alive
Affiliation & Relationships
Father Ivan Kanus (Dead)
Mother Emira Kanus (Dead)
Siblings Azra Kanus (Dead)
Other Important Figures (___)
Relationship Status Single
Sexual Orientation Bisexual
School EESM
House Mielkutė


Zlatan Kanus was born to two parents, who were happy, in the beginning, in Visoko, Bosnia and Herzegovina. He had one older sister, who was about ten years older than himself. At the age of four, Z and his older sister, Azra, who was fifteen at the time,  faced a horror that no kid should ever have to go through, when his parents passed away on their father's accord, having shot their mother first, then himself.. With no one else to turn to, Z's older sister did the best she could to raise him. In many cases like this, you hear of the two children persevering together, united against the odds! But that's not always how it goes. Azra, devastated by her parents deaths, turned to the bottle frequently to deal with her problems, while Z turned to the canvas, and dealt with his blond by creating dark, occasionally disturbing, works of art.

What Z would never be able to tell his sister, is that, even though it might be evident through much of his work, he has been deeply troubled, and is most likely battling a fierce depression. 

Z learned quickly to avoid Azra when she'd been drinking, as "unpleasant" would be a nice way of describing his sister's actions. He never blamed her-- he blamed the alcohol, but her abusive words did more harm than good. Z was eight when he had gotten his first sign on magic, and though he'd known before about his abilities, since his mother was a witch and Azra had magic, it still surprised him. He managed to toss a complete set of oils and acrylic paint bottles at his sister, during one of their infamous arguments, and had gotten it all over Azra. She stormed out while cleaning herself magic, while he sat with his back against the wall, scowling, since he didn't have his paints with him. His sister was out for a couple days. After the second day, he'd gotten out, taken some of his sister's money, and bought a couple things, then he left for a while, too. He came back days after his sister had finally come-- about a week since he'd been home. The two weren't on speaking terms, but she'd shown her apologies by having his materials and canvasses fixed and replaced.

They were good after a few days, and they were smiling and laughing again. The two had their fights in the coming years, sure, but it always ended the same. Until one night, when Azra was out one night and hadn't come back, barely a month before his tenth birthday. She didn't return. He went out to look for her, of course, but he soon got back to find people in his house, looking for him. They were there to tell him that Azra had died, and died fighting, too. Turns out she'd taken a gun in a barfight and put it to a guy's head, only to have her own head shot. Z was in tears, and was in pain for the coming years. He had nobody left. They'd either killed themselves or were too stupid to stay alive. So he spent his last few months in that town in a home, then he'd disappeared to Eastern European school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and had gotten into Mielkutė.

He continued his painting, which is the only thing he seemed to do. He barely had any friends, and he spent most of his time in his room, or in class, painting or drawing. He didn't seem to care about much, either. He's now in his fifth year, and while he's fighting depression and drinking, everything seems pretty normal for him.


He's pretty emotionless, really. Brutally honest, and though he can take a joke, and laugh at other people's jokes, he's very dark, even in the humorous sense. He tortures himself a lot, mentally. He felt blame for his parents and sister, even though, deep down, he knows it wasn't his fault. But he's very bright, very creative, and manipulative, and clever. Most of all, though; He doesn't care anymore. About people, about himself. He just really doesn't give a crap.

He sometimes likes to pretend, though. Likes to pretend he does care, or that he does need people. But he doesn't. In fact, he's scared of having somebody around. Which is why he's always alone. That, and people are usually scared off by his art.

He likes demonology. He loves learning about types of demons and how to kill them, and what they do, the signs and the history, and everything. Even he doesn't understand why, but the whole thing is just really interesting to him. He has bookshelves full of demon books and art books.




  • He smokes. Cigarettes and weed.
  • He tend to hurt himself a lot.

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