[CHAR] ://Crown of Eden [High-Casual]

[RyuShura]

NPC LIST:

Will be updated as the Roleplay progresses.

=The Other Awoken=

Description: Other survivors aboard Eden who have awoken from their magical slumber to the call of the ancient "Caretaker" and have been given their sacred divination for the journey ahead. Their motives and goals are unclear, but each of them have ties to the old world which compel them forth.

-

"Thirteen"

Appearance:

Hider

A B&W sketch I drew up...

Significant Memory:

It always begins with him standing in a city boiling in an inferno, screams echoing from all sides. He is alone, and exhausted, the armor adorned across his body dragging him down like chains. A cloth band is strapped around his arm. The number 'XIII' is inscribed on it. Blackened corpses and gore litter the ground all over, whom which barely resemble humans, but his eyes linger upon them only for a moment. He focuses mostly on a figure in the distance, another knight who rests dying at the center of this carnage. A tarnished beauty, unfitting within this scene of damnation. Her delicate face has turned pale, streams of bright blood dripping down from her chest-plate. Her war-lance lies upright atop a mound of bodies barring a large gate behind her, exhibiting the sacrifice she committed. The doors rumble and creak, signalling that the battle is far from over. She weakly reaches for him, and he rushes forward, ignoring the immense weight of everything. But he never reaches her. He stumbles to the ground, realizing that he is bleeding out and also dying. His whole left arm is torn and missing.

They lock eyes for a moment, acknowledging the end. She utters something to him, a bloom of tears steaming down her cheeks, but he cannot hear her words. Soon everything goes black and the memory is over.

-

Daresso

Age: 14

Appearance: WIP

Significant Memory:
He remembers a strong scent of snow-lilies, a flower native only in the high north, and the name "Alexander", though he does not know who that might be.

-

Genevieve De Clare

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Hider

Significant Memory:
The only memory she possesses is one bittersweet.

'Mother, mother...? Where art thou...?'

Genevieve is a child in this moment, judging from the lightness and frailty in her voice. She is wandering somewhere in complete darkness, lost to everything around. She clutches for things, anything to distinguish where she may be, but nothing feels familiar. Cold and hard was this strange place, her feet stinging with each step. It seems like an eternity has passed as she meanders desperately. Finally, her body can move no longer and she crumbles upon her bloodied trail. All she can do is cry all by herself. But then a pair of hands come to hold her and a sweet lullaby makes her pain go away.

'Mother... Please, don't abandon me again..'

Other: Is blind.

[Heap241]

Beth

Name/Title: Elizabeth Wilson

Race: All characters will be Human until further notice.

Appearance

There are three one inch long scars maybe a centimetre apart perfectly horizontal to each other on her left shoulder blade. She's maybe 5' 3" and has a quite sultry voice.

Significant Memory: Her only memory is of a cottage with a wheel barrel in front of it. Someone is speaking in a careful and gentle voice softly but the words are unclear. This memory brings both warmth and sadness for unknown reasons to Elizabeth.

Cottage

[ravenDivinity]

Everett Prachter

Name/Title: Everett Prachter
Race: Human
Gender: Male

Appearance:

Image

Significant Memory:
Everett Prachter could single out one memory from the fog of amnesia although the memory itself was a blur, distant and misty like a dream. In this dream of sorts, Everett stood in the center of a vacant, decrepit place of worship. A wind swirled around Everett as he approached an altar in a room where a shallow pool covered the ground. A sigil appeared, drawn in light in the air above the altar, and then Everett's vision is filled with white. Thus was the end of the memory, and Everett could recall nothing else.

[knighthawk]

K.K.

Name/Title:
Kyle Kalahari

Race:
Human

Gender:
Male

Appearance:


Significant Memory:
Two things always seem to conflict within him; A resentful ease at taking orders and running. He was helpful to a fault, doing whatever is asked of him to the point of doing the jobs no one else wanted to do. This obviously made a manner of mental pressure that he blew off any time he went faster than a jog. Something about exerting himself and the wind over his face let him mellow out the pressures.

Other:

[Light]

Geno

Race
Human

Sex
Male

Appearance

Image

Geno stands an even six feet tall, with an equally healthy posture. He is neither muscular nor lean, weighing in at 160lbs. He dresses casually in a blank t-shirt underneath a wind-breaker, and jeans with weather-proof boots. He wears gloves almost religiously, refusing to remove them even when inside or in warm environments.

Memory
Geno's only memory is fractured, split apart in flashes and moments of the picture that fail to piece it all together. Muted voices come from empty faces that rest on the shoulders of white-robed figures. Some flickering thoughts depict him in similar cloth, conversing with them but never recalling what was said. Others are dim, cramped, with eldritch and alien texts surrounding him. Each fragment is separate, but culminate in a final moment, a bright flash, voices silently shouting in pain and horror, and a searing sensation that stings his palms.

Other
Geno's palms are heavily scarred, in what looks to be combinations of burning, lacerations, and simply distortion of the skin. These marks are the only proof he has that his memories aren't some hallucination. Seeing or thinking of the damage to his hands brings forth the searing pain that stalks his memory.

[AspenIvan]

Eugene

Name/Title: Eugene
Race: I'm human

Gender: Male
Appearance:

Hider

Significant Memory: I feel...angry...frustrated. I was part of something bigger, and now it's all gone. No, I don't mean my family, or the world...it was something else. Something specific, I think we had some sort of acronym...yeah, the APF. We had it written on signs and arm-bands. I...I remember feeling so much anticipation, excitement, fear, love...and I wasn't alone. But what's killing me is I can't remember any names, any faces...I can't even remember what we were doing exactly, just how I felt about it. About us. And that acronym.

Other: I have this little device on my ear. I think it's supposed to do something, and for some reason my mind tells me that since both my eyes still work, the ear thing oughtta work too. But I don't hear anything from it, not even static.

[Cyrania]

Gwendolyn

Name/Title: Gwendolyn
Race: Human (until further notice?)

Gender: Female

Appearance

( Found through google images on deviantart by dashinvaine.)

Significant Memory:

Warm, smiling faces, she thinks her mom and dad but isn't quite sure. The women shares her golden hair. They're laughing together and having fun.

The amnesia sets in again then she recalls the two lying on the cold ground as if asleep, red all around, and something like a metal collar around her neck.

Other: Can sing, scar marks and imprints from could have been a metal collar remain on her neck

[Mag Lev]

Jezebel

Name/Title: Jezebel DeLacaire

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Appearance:
Jezebel is of a rather short height and a small, almost emaciated, frame compared to most women. Her hair is a pale blonde with streaks of white peeking out from its disheveled state. Few things stand out more from Jezebel than the blue eyes she possesses, something she may have inherited from her Father or Mother but neither of which she ever truly remembers.

Significant Memory:

The Paintings

Paintings were strew all along the small room, more like a combination of a study and a bedroom than anything else. Were these her paintings? Who were they of? What were they of? Some were faces, places, beautiful vistas and wonderful pieces of art that may have been seen as great. But, weren’t they failures? Was that not why they were strewn across the floor with no care? Or was it that they were thrown there in anger? A single brushstroke ruining some, a misplaced color others. A brown here, a yellow there. Where did they come from? Why were they made?

Fear, fear was the strongest part of the memory though. What was she afraid of as she stood amongst the paintings? Was it failure? Her parents? The will of those who pushed her to earn money for them with a talent she had? She couldn’t remember, wouldn’t remember. It hurt to see it all. The memory burned like a brand. Why? Why did it burn like this? What was missing from it that she couldn’t see?

Other: She has a small locket, though she can’t remember what was inside it. Was it a picture of her mother and father? She forgot how to open it, the key needed lost both in memory and reality.