NAME. Krys ( Chrysaor )
AGE & BIRTH DATE. Unknown & 3000+
GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him
SPECIES. Rift
OCCUPATION. Unemployed
FACE CLAIM. Dylan Sprayberry
He was alone when he first came to be. No mother, no father, just the darkness and the two women who raised him. His aunts Euryale and Stheno who took him under their care, acting as his guides and informants. They spoke of his parents, of the God Poseidon and the gorgon Medusa. He cursed her, your father cursed your mother. Terrible, terrible. Their words flooded his senses and memories like a melody, a sweet lullaby that would put you to sleep. He cursed her, he cursed, he cursed her. Donât trust him, donât trust him, donât trust him. The child was the good one, he stayed on his motherâs side as his twin brother left to be with Poseidon. A traitor, a traitor, a traitor, another melody that he created himself. While Pegasus flew with the Gods and Goddesses, it was he who remained in the underworld. Surrounded by darkness, surrounded by Gorgons, it shouldâve been hell. But it was his heaven.
Always so curious and needing to know everything, he explored what was around him. Of a river made of flames and areas that no child should explore. It was Elysium, a land filled with heroes and blessed individuals that shined brighter than his home filled with darkness. It was great, grand, and awfully different. It wasnât his favorite place to see but he always went back, he never knew or understood why. Then there was Hadesâ palace, of a looming and dark castle. Of a man who was to be feared, of a wife who was unknown to the boy, of a place that was off limits. There was no area within the underworld that went without his touch and eyes falling on it. If it was within his reach, he would explore it and make it into his playground.
While the underworld was his heaven, he did dream. Of exploring the world above, of the place where mortals roamed, a place full of unknown and new places for him to see. Of kingdoms, of villages, of forests, of rivers that didnât hold a flame, of land kissed by the sunâ of a world that he deserved to witness. In his mind and heart, he deserved both the world blanketed by darkness and the world kissed by the sun. And he deserved to see it with Medusa, his mother he dreamed of constantly. He dreamed of a mother, smiling and happy, telling him stories and caring for him. He dreamed of a mother who welcomed him back from a long day full of adventures. He dreamed of a mother who listened closely to his own stories of what he saw, smiling brightly at his excitement. He dreamed of a mother who deserved the entire universe.
He didnât have to meet Medusa to take her side and to follow herâ who wouldnât? She was a woman who did no wrong, she wasnât a villain, no, that was Poseidon and Pegasus who sided with him. The Greek Gods who all turned their backs on his mother and sided with Poseidon, they were his enemies. A promise was made to himself that heâll take revenge against all of them in the name of his mother. So when the time came for him to leave the Underworld, he took to it and his plan was set in motion. His aunts gifted him with two things, a golden sword and a moniker. The last two gifts heâll ever receive from them and the only gifts that heâll ever need as he departs. Chrysaor, the son of the gorgon, the son of Medusa. Heâll be remembered as that.
In no time, he showed himself to be the enemy of the Gods. Deemed the villain in all of their stories, though he never saw himself as one. Chrysaor was no villain, he was the hero. The hero who will show the world of how tainted their Gods were. With anyone who tried to stop him or sided with the Gods, they were attacked. Taken down with his golden sword, Chrysaor was a young man on a mission to turn things around. His seriousness could be seen by all that, by the mortals, by the Gods, and by the beasts and daemones who he befriended. They followed him, helping him on his quest, all wanting to get back at the Gods and to destroy them. None of them were taking revenge like him but it didnât matter, their common goal was the same: the destruction of the Greek Gods and Goddesses.
And maybe, if they had been stronger or had more luck on their side, their goal couldâve been achieved. But it didnât, after all, the villains can never win. It was fate for his motherâs murdererâs son to cut him down. A battle against Perses and his men, that was all it took to cut Chrysaor and his mission down. And with his own golden sword no less. That was all it took to send him back to the underworld.
Humiliated, Chrysaor sat in the darkness, wallowing because of his own failure and hating himself for disappointing his mother. He tried so hard to make the world into one that she would love, only to come out as a fool and failure. He sat there, believing that heâd never get a second chance until it was presented to him. A voice that whispered to him, like a lullaby. She awaits you, your mother, sheâs waiting, waiting, waiting. The voice wasnât dreamlike as if his aunts but it was hypnotic all the same. This is your chance, leave with the manticores and get your revenge against those who defied you! It was the push that he needed.
Following behind the manticores, Chrysaor arrived at the Corinth of today. The world has changed so much from the last time he was here. From the language, the people, the fashion, to the weird devices that they held, it was all different. But there was one thing that was still the same; the Gods and Goddesses who remained on top and his mission to destroy them. And this time, heâll have his mother at his side.
+ adventurous, independent, loyal
- gullible, charmless, stubborn
PLAYED BY KASHIA. EST. She/Her.