❝ Do not hurt the Destiny's Slave, and do not let them lose their ability of independent thinking.
Remember the feeling of death, and bring it to them.
Remember that we've fought together against cruel fate and won. when you think of me, laugh. Don't cry.❞
a bsolved be the seekers
and when all is lost and graves gone nigh. sing an echo of the end, and look to the sky.
Kreide Iscariot | Ren | Kreide Lasserrant
a thousand forgotten memories
weaver of words. singer of harmony.
let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice.
in our name - may all be blessed upon winter's sweet light.
■■■rules
hello. i write this crazy character.
trigger warnings for psychological horror and suicidal themes, as well as mental-health things such as dissociation identity disorder.please understand i will not write anything mature with any characters or any writers who are underage, and would prefer to write with characters who are over 18+ of age, but i welcome all rpers.if something is confusing or makes you uncomfortable, or if you simply want to change something, please feel free to reach out and let me know. if you have an idea for a plot, feel free to send me a tell! i reserve the right to refuse any plots, but i like rping pretty much anything that doesn't outright destroy my character.i do not run any plots that deal with racism, sexism, homophobia/transphobia/etc., and just generally be a good person. this also includes the use of fetishing terms - i will not rp with people who call themselves a f*ta. thank you.i am ace, so please do not cause any romance drama ooc. thank you!i have a few health issues which might randomly make me have to stop roleplaying (likely because i am suddenly falling asleep). i am almost always open for discord roleplay - please just ask. thank you for understanding.
■■■Kreide Iscariot
absolved will be the seekers
❝ This too is fate. Does a caged bird dream of flying free? ❞
ㅤnameㅤㅤKreide Iscariot.
ㅤother namesㅤㅤRen |
Titania| Kreide Lasserrant |Bishop.ㅤageㅤㅤ153 cycles.
ㅤpronounsㅤㅤhe/him.
ㅤoriginㅤㅤishgard | amdapor.
ㅤaetherㅤㅤdangerously overaspected, fragmented, undying core of white magic, surrounded by void-tainted but highly pure ice aether.
ㅤdynamisㅤㅤabundant, multifaceted.
ㅤclassㅤㅤdragoon. scholar. | viper. dark knight. | white mage.
ㅤlanguagesㅤㅤEorzean, Ishgardian, Old Amdaporian, Void.
ㅤmbtiㅤㅤintj.
ㅤeyesㅤㅤpale.
ㅤhairㅤㅤwhite.
ㅤskillsㅤㅤ"weaver of Words". | blood magic. | white magic.
ㅤpersonalityㅤ both reticent and passionate, Kreide is a character that can be difficult to pin down. He is stubborn, almost aloof - but despite this, he cares for others beyond all reason and will do anything to see anyone's wish come true.
A soul of a thousand fractured masks - which is the real one? That, too, is a mystery - a thousand faces had swallowed up his identity, but he has always stayed kind to those he cares for and true to his wishes - to save the stories of his memories.He carries the stories of the dead in his dreams.
stats
ㅤheightㅤㅤㅤ6'0"
ㅤweightㅤㅤ65 kg.
ㅤstrengthㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤdexterityㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤhealthㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤenergyㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤstyleㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤhygieneㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤperceptionㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤcommunicationㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤpersuasionㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤmeditationㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤliteracyㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤcreativityㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤcookingㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
ㅤcombatㅤㅤㅤ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
motifs
foundation
ㅤheadstrongㅤ
ㅤperceptiveㅤ
ㅤadaptiveㅤ
ㅤintelligentㅤ
ㅤkindㅤ
ㅤfaithfulㅤ
ㅤstubbornㅤ
ㅤassertiveㅤ
ㅤnon-committalㅤ
ㅤsharp-tonguedㅤ
ㅤsilentㅤ
ㅤbiasedㅤ
ㅤstagnantㅤ
ㅤdissociatedㅤ
ㅤsuicidalㅤ
ㅤjudgementalㅤ
ㅤsacrificialㅤ
ㅤinsaneㅤ
history
??? was a name given - a title. His true name was obliterated - he lacked his own face, his past buried within Ishgardian snow.
An earl had saved him from a frozen grave, and he danced upon a theatre of crimson gold, blood to his face, blood on his lips - and he could no longer remember his own true face.Kreide was a priest of Ishgard, honed to be the Fury's blessed night - he would protect all under her eyes, and he would lead the faithful to their blessed, gentle night. Now he sings the song of the world, manipulating reality at the tip of his pen.Ren was a supposedly a forgemaster - he lost his hands in a fire. He was a warder, defending the groves from Mhach's poison with its own destruction. He would forge his own destiny, he would defend the moon and chase the stars. And now, he fights to find his own grave.??? was a dreamer - a breath of desire. They longed for devotion, for bliss beyond the making. They wove an endless paradise and fluttered amongst translucent wings, before their sanctuary burned to ashes in a blink of an eye.A thousand broken masks, but none to know which tale is true. A thousand fractured mirrors, and not a single soul in one.And yet, in darkness, he prayed for the seekers to find their way home.
hooks
common knowledge
requirements: nonekeeper of the Ark Library A recent development had led to Kreide inheriting a small library known as Ark located in Empyreum. As its primary keeper, Kreide is responsible for managing and maintaining the many esoteric records and directing visitors to seeking information. He also acts as its primary Archivist and will write down any facts to store them within Ark's walls.the knight A formidable knight and dragoon, Kreide is skilled the art of defense and healing. Need someone to aid you on a mission? Someone to defend you? Or patch you up after a rough day? Feel free to ask.
A knight in both profession and sometimes character, Kreide doesn't hesitate to help out a soul in need.Ishgardian Despite all the changes that has happened in his life, Kreide is very familiar with Ishgard and its happenings. Need any information regarding the See, especially its Orthodoxy? He'll likely have a story or two.
A former priest and Inquisitor, Kreide is familiar with with Ishgardian politics and can help with anyone who may need help navigating Ishgard's customs.
Often times, Kreide will introduce himself by his former house name, Lasserrant, for those who may be more familiar with nobility.Needle and Thread Kreide has a hobby of designing and sewing outfits. While he is no professional weaver, his talents with the needle tend to make his outfits quite good. He also enjoys shoving his friends into his creations.
uncommon knowledge
requirements: ic explanations, friendshipsA Thousand Voices Due to circumstances throughout his entire life, espcially within the last few years, Kreide manifests different "alters" that take on their own names. These fragmented personas sometimes come and go, but the most common one is a man named "Ren", who acts quite differently than Kreide. He is, however, not the only alter Kreide has.The Fallen House Kreide does not live in House Lasserrant - he actually lives in one of the rooms of the Cathedral itself. A bit more digging reveals some interesting secrets regarding his family name. House Lasserrant was a minor noble house under House Durendaire - and Kreide himself was a bastard of one of their former lords, only living for so long due to his viera heritage.
The house prospered in its duty, though Kreide himself was left with the church, but within the past few years, the house itself all but was destroyed in fire, its manor consumed in flame, claiming the lives of most of its lords and ladies, save for the knight and last living lord, Mlynar Lasserrant, Kreide himself, and a few scattered knights that served the house in Whitebrim.
No one knows why the house suddenly fell, and despite investigations spearheaded by Kreide himself, a cause was never found...or so it was told.Nightkin The voidal aether that sometimes clings to Kreide is very faint, but to a trained eye, he is unmistakably a nightkin of Orion Iscariot's court, so intertwined that he even took Orion's namesake. Despite this, Kreide wears a significant number of charms that allow him to safely operate within the See's most holy places, making this aether sometimes difficult to spot.
hidden secrets
these are elements that are considered lore bending/potentially lore breaking or are considered "deep knowledge". i'll only use them on request.Weaver of Words Gifted with a skill to make "miracles" through the manipulation of Dynamis, Kreide can sometimes turn faith into something more than just an errant wish - into something truly tangible. Under his mentor, Kreide can now harness the power of Words themselves, turning language itself into creations that alter even reality, though often times he's unable to control the result.The Blade Cursed and blessed by a gift of Amdaporian white magic, ren is fated to never be able to die. The white magic that sustains him revives him from any injury, from even the worst of wounds, bearing more pain and scars with every breath. His wish is oblivion, the one thing denied to him again and again - and he will stop at nothing to seek it.the blue butterfly An echo of an eikon experiment had splintered Kreide's personality with the memories of many. Dancing with blue butterflies, Kreide is the host of the Kithain known as Titania, of the Dreamer's Children, even though he is but a remnant. He is highly associated with Amdapor.
Ark Library & Study
A small library located in Empyreum created by an elusive playwright named Erra, Ark Library stores information from all over the star, accessible to anyone who wanders in its doors. While appearing to be naught but a simple, cozy place to read and study, Ark Library hosts hundreds of books and manuscripts, many dating back to eras long gone.Anyone is welcome within its doors, though those seeking more esoteric information need speak to one of its Keepers, who have access to the more forbidden texts.
While anyone is welcome to read any of the books, checking out any of the novels requires an access card, with a two-week limit before returns. And those who do not return the library may find themselves with fines or worse...Ark Library also serves as a cozy meeting place and a study, open to anyone who wishes to simply find a quiet place to read, listen, or chat with friends.Location: Dynamis, Kraken. Empyreum, Ward 27, Plot 8.
■■■ 01
The only thing he could sense was a splotch of crimson in his sight and the taste of iron in his mouth. His limbs were unresponsive.
— He must have died.
"Do you remember?"Winters were cold, the corpse next to him colder - ice had already formed on the seam of his brother's lips. His breath was wet - rattling icy shards in his lungs that tore across his veins.
They were nothing, in the wake of the city. They were sacrifices to the goddess, a stain, a mark of tragedy. They would die in the snow - they would become martyrs.
He did not wish to die.
He grasped onto his hammer tried to crack the ice.
An earl with blue butterflies in his eyes answered his plea - pale fingers grasped onto salvation, onto undead infinity.
■■■ 02
The only thing he could sense was a splotch of crimson in his sight and the taste of iron in his mouth. His limbs were unresponsive.
— He must have died.
"Do you remember?"A thousand masks stared back at him. Some laughed, some cried, some wept bitter tears and grinned manic smiles.
He was their actor - he breathed their name. He danced - he sang, he forgot his own face and died.
He sat in the laps of a thousand faceless souls, he donned costumes - and his hands, too, wrapped that leash around his pale core and bound his own breath.
They saved him. He, too, would be their tool - his bitter tears the fuel of their progress.
■■■ 03
The only thing he could sense was a splotch of crimson in his sight and the taste of iron in his mouth. His limbs were unresponsive.
— He must have died.
"Do you remember?"The city tied around him - the mages had suffocated the chokepoints, and the grass had died. He held onto the soil and casted his pale gaze to the sky.
How marvelous - he had already lost the will to live, but this world cried out - and he could only listen to their prayers.
How marvelous - he no longer remembered his own face. His own name. His own wish.
He stood up on two feet, threw his tears to the world beyond, and let the vines fill those empty seams.If they could not remember themselves, he could remember for them.
■■■ 04
The only thing he could sense was a splotch of crimson in his sight and the taste of iron in his mouth. His limbs were unresponsive.
— He must have died.
"Do you remember?"They started a ceremony with wine, and ended it with a prayer to the snow. White clothes of sanctity draped over his shoulders - he could not remember why he wore them. But he was to - for it was pure.
He, had to be pure. He - was their savior. He lit the incense and recited the prayers - to heal the soul, to heal the body.
His own body had long since gave out - tendons snapped. The bandages on his palms had bled a crimson red. In the end - he was a tool for this unending calamity.He wished, silently, that he too could weave a miracle that could change fate.
■■■ 05
The only thing he could sense was a splotch of crimson in his sight and the taste of iron in his mouth. His limbs were unresponsive.
— He must have died.
"Do you remember?"They came to him for miracles - forged by his hands. They came for him, for them, the knight and the warrior. The forgemaster twins. They were warders - and the city of darkness kept enroaching.
He would protect them all - his brothers, sisters, all of them, for this sanctuary dream they had carved out together.(oh, but to protect a dream, it means to lose your mind, and to lose your mind is to forget reality, too, is sublime).
■■■ 06
The only thing he could sense was a splotch of crimson in his sight and the taste of iron in his mouth. His limbs were unresponsive.
— He must have died.
"Do you remember?"An angel came down and struck him in his core.
The flowers bloomed once more, white lycoris stained red, blossoming from his stomach, from his chest.
He remembered death - again and again. Life, however, would not let him go.How bitter. He clawed his way out of his nightmare, and opened his eyes. If he must kill his own dreams to achieve the death he sought, so shall it be.
So shall it be.
■■■ encore
He could no longer see anything.Each mask had shattered into ground porcelain dust, each butterfly fluttering against his chest - not even the greatest plays could keep him awake anymore.
What was he? No one. But a false face - a false name. False everything - he had died long ago.Someone placed a blade in his hand. Wrapped his fingers around a familiar hammer and breathed warmth onto corpse-cold limbs.
His heart had long been corrupted.
Some did not care."You are not your dreams yet, ■■■■■■."
A smile - no wishes. No miracles. No blessings. A smile.
"You can also use your will to not become something you don't want. You can still do what you want."The hands wrapped around the blade.
"Why don't you make something for yourself this time?"
■■■Orion Iscariot
Lord, Shadowsworn
❝ He is a kind lord worth serving, even though it is his gift that led to my tragedy. ❞
■■■Fang Yun
Brother in Arms, Bladesworn
❝ He forgets the sun and believes he wants to dwell in the darkness. I'll follow him to the ends of the earth to remind him what it means to live. ❞
Healer's Touch, Heartsworn
❝ One day, he will remember that he, too, can touch the sky. ❞
Moon Eater, Sinner, Architect
❝ When will our retribution come?
How can our debt be repaid? ❞
Comrade, Doctor, Stranger
❝ He's not as cold as he appears, this doctor is far softer than his reputation would make him. But he's still a beast in the end. ❞
■■■writer
ㅤnameㅤㅤmelafyre.
ㅤageㅤㅤ21+.
ㅤpronounsㅤㅤthey/she.
ㅤtimezoneㅤㅤest.
little about
artist. honkai star rail enthusiast (that might be obvious). i also have two cats who are my muses and menaces.
sometimes i write terrifying body horror, and sometimes i scribble beans.
thank you for writing with my strange, fantastical muses.
■■■Gallery
