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Charis Myron

"If you don't know history, then you don't know anything. You are a leaf that doesn't know it is part of a tree."

0 · 887 views · located in Atlantis

a character in “Beyond The Sea”, originally authored by Cloud, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description



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|{Full Name}|
Χαρις Σοφια μυρον
Charis Sophia Myron

|{Nickname}|
Kari

|{Age}|
Twenty-five

|{Nationality}|
Atlantian

|{Sexuality}|
Heterosexual

|{Occupation}|
Museum Owner

|{Group}|
Orphic



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|{Appearance}|

weight: 120 lbs; 55 kg XXXXheight: 5'8"; 172cm

Charis is tall, willowy, and possesses an undeniable grace in her movements. Naturally a slim build, Charis still possesses definite curves to her figure, those curves accented when she wishes to with clothing that she knows compliments her figure. Her skin is a fair to light olive hue, smooth and unmarred, complimented by light brown hair that more often than not curls in long waves down her back. Her eyes are a dusky warm brown, which seem to sparkle in her happiness yet are so often trained on some vision of the past.

Her style is typically understated, preferring classic items over what might pass as the latest fashion. Whatever she wears, be it shorts and a t-shirt, or a formal gown, Charis knows what shapes and colours will compliment her body and skin tone and dresses accoringly.

She bares no scars on her blemish-free skin, nor is she decorated with any tattoos. The only mark on her skin are the two piercings in her ears, one in each lobe.



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|{Power}|
Psychometry
Charis is able to perceive the residual information of an object and person. With a mere touch she can gain the past history of whatever object she holds in her hand, seeing visions and acquiring instant knowledge of when it was made, who has used it, what has been done with it and, in some particular cases, whole scenes of what is happening in its environments. With people Charis can gain a brief snapshot of their past when she touches their skin, though she will not see what they were feeling or thinking. As with most Orphic powers hers comes in bursts, showing her brief glimpses of the past. Over the years she has learned to control it, enabling her to use it only when she wants to. Her power makes her especially indispensable at the museum, as she's able to look into an object's past with the brush of a finger.

|{Likes}|
History | The Museum | Accuracy | Reading | Historical Novels | Ancient Languages | Pottery | Her power | Art | Painting | Intelligence | Old coins | Silent Films | Honesty | Curating | Whale Sharks | Atlantis

|{Dislikes}|
Inaccurate historical records | Dishonesty | Cheating | Overly-loud people | The Miracle Pill | Radicals | Segregation | Being unable to visit certain Alterist establishments, particularly the Art Gallery | Prejudice | Ignorance | People touching the exhibits

|{Hobbies || Talents}|
Charis' hobbies are tied closely with her work. For her the museum is not a job, but a passion. Cataloguing historical items, planning and setting up displays, and writing brief or lengthy descriptions of items are all things she could consider hobbies. She loves collecting things, old coins making a particularly prominent appearance. She can speak a variety of ancient languages, a necessary talent to be able to translate many of the old texts the museum houses. Though her power gives her insight into most histories, Charis still enjoys reading historical books and novels. She is also a fair artist, though Charis considers her paintings amateur work.


|{Fears || Weaknesses}|
Charis fears losing her mother. Having watched her father slowly die a few years ago, she's more determined than ever to cling to her last remaining relative. Beyond that Charis is scared of losing the work her father did for the museum. Losing his legacy would, in a way, mean losing the last reminder of him. Aside from that Charis can sometimes be too swept up with the past to give the present and future proper care. Most objects that Charis comes into contact with are seeped in history. She often fears her power revealing a murder from long centuries past, or a gruesome death of the artefact's previous owners.




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|{Personality}|

Intelligence and a good deal of curiosity have always been evident in Charis' personality. She excels in her chosen field and always has, quietening anyone who doubts that someone of her age can run a museum the moment they hear her speak of it. Driven to discover all she can of the past, Charis has dedicated her life to the museum. She takes pride in all the exhibits, knows each item's story, and is a walking encyclopaedia of knowledge on everything within the museum's walls. Her passions; history, languages, and art, become obsessions. Languages have always been of particular interest to her, especially those long since passed from common use. Art too, whether it be admiring famed works or making her own, has also become a hobby she loves. What her mother called stubbornness, Charis termed perseverance and a desire to know all she can about a certain subject. A perfectionist at heart, she's rarely happy until her work has reached the benchmark she expects. Anything less will see her continuing with her task until it has met her desired standard.

For all that she is remarkably reserved, carrying out her tasks with a quiet independence. She isn't someone who talks for the sake of hearing their own voice. If asked her opinion she will give it as honestly as she can, but she's not someone many would class as outspoken or abrasive. In fact the only time you're likely to ever hear Charis raise her voice is if she finds you about to spoil one of the museum's prized possessions (which is everything in the museum in her eyes), or threaten her mother.

Once you've dragged Charis away from whatever project has currently captured her attention at the museum, you'll find a fun-loving young woman with energy to burn. She might be more inclined to watch a silent film over drowning herself in alcohol, but given the chance she's a thrill to be around. Of course, she's much more comfortable with her close friends, but one should never mistake her reserved nature for shyness. She has no trouble speaking to strangers when needed, most of the time she merely chooses not to in favour of conversing with friends and family.



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|{History}|
Charis Sophia Myron was born twenty-five years ago to Alexander and Sophie Myron, proud Atlantians who maintained the already prestigious museum. Charis grew up with the museum as a second home, its quiet halls filled with history holding her in awe for most of her life. In fact there are moments even now that she will find herself gliding through corridors lined with ancient trinkets, still caught by the wonder of these long gone civilisations. Growing up in this environment helped shape Charis into the woman she is today. It gave her a love of silence, an appreciation for history, and constant curiosity to discover more. Alexander, who was also gifted with the power of Psychometry, was able to teach his daughter and only child how to utilise her gift. At first she was constantly fearful of touching anything and anyone, scared of seeing flashes of history unasked for, but as she learned to control her power she could chose when to use it, saving herself the irking recharge time and unwelcome visions.

When her father died a few years ago it only seemed natural that Charis take control of the establishment. Her mother, now retired, offers advice when asked for it. Owning the museum is bittersweet. Every nook and cranny reminds Charis of her father, and yet she was born to run it. She pours her soul into every exhibition, literally relives the lives of each object that finds its place in the collection. She's so wound up in the museum that everything else seems to take a back seat. Of course she could have to lock herself away entirely to not have heard of the problems stirred by the creation of the Miracle Pill. It troubles her, to say the least, and not merely because of the sudden decrease in visitors to the museum. Charis has friends among the Alterists and she worries for their health and safety.



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|{Theme Song}
TBA

|{Face Claim}
Gal Gadot

Character Dialogue
#9393b8

|{Portrayed By}
Cloud

Inspiration for the aesthetics of this sheet comes from ibecameinsane


So begins...

Charis Myron's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aldric Dahl Character Portrait: Yvonne Devereux Character Portrait: Giselle Antoinette Character Portrait: Edith Von Kessler Character Portrait: Jackie Rusa Character Portrait: Joseph Gallaway
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~ January 15th, 8 pm. ~




ImageImage Tonight is a very special night. Perhaps the most special night if you don't count Christmas or New Years. January 15th is Conjoinment Day in Atlantis. That's the day when the surface dwellers first came down into the underwater city, connecting themselves with the seafarers, creating one indivisible population that still resides inside Atlantis's great protection today. Traditionally, the holiday is spent in great celebration. The Cabaret, Pub, and Casino are usually packed, and even on the streets, crowds of socialites are chatting and cheering. Everyone is dressed to the nines, whether they be dancing in the club or just chilling out at home. It's supposed to be a very peaceful, unified day full of fun and excitement. But during these times of segregation, revolution, and change, tradition may not last for too long...




Setting

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Character Portrait: Charis Myron Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Cloud


───────────────────────────
C H A R I SXM Y R O N
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"If you don't know history,
then you don't know anything.
You are a leaf that doesn't know
it is part of a tree."

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A jar sat before the young woman, plain in appearance but seeping in thick history. It is no larger than Charis' palm, seemingly innocuous in its mundane image. The remnants of a vibrant paint job can be seen littered across the grey jar, faded colours of what once would have been eye-catching purples, blues, and reds decorating the chipped clay. Undecipherable words lining the bottom have worn away with time, possibly their letters indicating who crafted the small container or even who owned it. For most the mysteries of this small jar might never be unlocked. Carbon dating and careful inspection can only offer a limited amount of information. One would never be able to physically see the item in use as it was intended, or see those who used the object. Tracking it's path throughout history would be almost impossible. Unless of course you happened to have Charis' gift.

Activating it took only a fraction of a second, the power concentrated on the small jar as the museum owner lets her fingers slide around the object. Almost instantly her mind is filling with knowledge, memories of the artefact's past colouring her mind with images. She's watching as a craftsman sets the clay, before those colours she had guessed at are painted on, brilliant, vibrant flowers painted around the object's surface. Fast-forward and the item resides in a wealthy Greek home, filled with powder. Charis spies the jar's own, carefully applying the make-up to her face. From there Charis traces the object's journey over the centuries, as it first passes through the hands of the original owner's children, then lays abandoned in an old home for centuries more. She gains a complete illustration of its life before it wound up here, on her desk. These flashes of long gone histories are one of the reasons why the Museum offers such a world class collection. Not only are the items they procure unique and beautiful, but the stories they tell offer visitors an in-depth glimpse into the past.

All this gathering of information takes place in less than a minute, the jar's history sorting itself out in her mind quickly and efficiently. It wasn't always this way, when she was younger the knowledge she had gained through her power had arrived muddled and confused, everything out of time. With the help of her father, Charis had honed her ability until it was what it is today, allowing her to read an object's past and slot those memories carefully into her mind. As she removes her hand from the Jar Charis makes sure to inactive her ability, knowing that if she doesn't everything she touches will offer her pictures of its past. One object, two or three at a stretch, is enough for the time being. If she pushes it Charis risks fainting. It's the same with all Orphic powers. They come in bursts, and Charis is no different.

Gripping a pen tightly in her hand the young woman begins to write down the history she has just seen, making her notes accurate and concise. This jar may not end up as the central exhibit, but it deserved just as much care and attention as the big pieces did. It had been loved and looked after in its time, and now it stood in present day as a reminder of the past. So Charis takes her time writing out her description, leaving no detail of importance unsaid. By the time she is done her hand aches from writers' cramp. Stretching out her the muscles in her hand Charis pushes herself to her feet, carefully replacing the jar in its box and placing it on top of the written description before picking up both.

With both in hand Charis leaves her office, gliding down the private corridor as she heads for the museum's archives. Her feet carrying her down a flight of stairs to an expansive room filled with artefacts that haven't made it to the floor above. Broken busts of Ancient Greek scholars and gods sit beside water-logged paintings of mythical creatures. Down in the storeroom everything has its place and though the items may not be on display, Charis adores them just as much as those under the spotlights in the public halls. Charis finds an unoccupied slot in the appropriate section, labels her item and the card used to identify it, before placing the jar inside. With that job done Charis continues on her way, heading upstairs by another stairwell so that she might walk through the exhibits above.

The underbelly of the museum is a maze, twisting corridors and large cavernous storerooms offering a labyrinth of turns and apparent dead ends. Though, for someone who has all but grown up in the museum finding ones way is reasonably simplistic. Charis could find her way blindfolded. Though luckily she isn't forced to and, once she's found her way into the public gallery, her eyes are able to feast on the descendant display before her. A shipwreck, centuries old and yet carefully preserved by countless curators before her stands in the middle a large hall. A broken mast, torn sails, and scorch marks from whatever battle ended its reign of the seas are evident. It is one of the many wonders that the museum holds, and though Charis has seen it endless times before she stops again to marvel at it.

The museum is open today, offering those that might wish to cast their eyes upon items from that historic day of discovery the chance to do so. Most of the visitors streaming through the door are families, parents hoping to pass on the history of Conjoinment Day to their children. Charis, still standing absorbed by the shipwreck, can think of nothing she'd rather being doing that reliving that momentous day. She would quite happily spend all day and night roaming the museum's halls. Though perhaps, given the celebrations that are likely to occur she will leave the comfort of her second home and venture into the streets or the cabaret. That would certainly be entertaining and, as her mother so often reminds her, she can't always live in the past. Sometimes the present deserves just as much attention.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Macheath Mariano Character Portrait: Charis Myron Character Portrait: Andreus Zervas Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Andreus left the Ceremony with a smile on his face. No matter the situation, the Sanctuary always succeeded in making him feel at peace. It had been a lovely ceremony, as always, and now it was his job to rally the children home. This of course was like herding cats, so he scanned the crowed of Orphics leaving the Sanctuary on his tip-toes, searching for the seven orphans who had come along with him.

"Four of us here," A voice said to his right, and he turned to face the second oldest of the crew. At seventeen, Amara was tall and lanky, almost as tall as Dreus himself. Next to the teen was Lee, who was fifteen and stubborn, his arms crossed over his chest, scowling, as usual. The two next to him were twins, and at seven years old, Karissa and Noah were inseparable. The two were holding each other's and Amara's hands, to stay with the group and not run off.

"Great, have any of you seen Lincoln or Matteo?" he directed the question mainly to Amara, who nodded her head.

"Yeah, they're going to the Delis house for lunch," she said, smiling softly at the look on Andreus' face. "Don't worry, they were invited, you know how they're friends with the Delis kids." Andreus nodded at thins and took another look around the emptying Sanctuary for the last and youngest of the orphans, Lila, who was five and more curious that ever. He caught a glimpse of her fiery red hair near the waterfall, leaning precariously over the edge to look into the pool.

"Lila!" He shouted, rushing over to the girl and sweeping her into his arms just as she began to fall into the water. He exhaled and adjusted the small girl in his arms. "Don't do that, you could have gotten hurt, μικρέ." The little girl nodded silently and looked at the ground, ashamed. He kissed her forehead and she giggled as they returned to the rest of the children.

"That's everyone, the rest are at home," Amara said, and began to lead them out. Andreus took the lead as soon as they made it out into public, Lila still on his hip. "There's a lot of people out, so stay close to me," he said, weaving through the crowds who were lined up and waiting for the parade. He saw several familiar faces along the way, and smiled at them, but his job was to get his kids home and then head to work, after all, the museum would be a popular place today. They reached the house after around fifteen minutes of weaving through the crowds, and were greeted by some of the other children at the door. Dreus set Lila down and she ran off after kissing him on the cheek.

Andreus checked to make sure everything was in order and made sure that if anyone decided to go to the parade they would use the buddy system, and after kissing Cleo on the cheek as she lay in bed and making sure Amara could handle things, he left, swinging his suit jacket over his shoulder and putting his hand in his pocket. It wasn't often that he got to dress up, so he decided to make the best out of it and had shaved and worn his best clothes. Meandering down the street for a while, he stopped only to let others pass, and made it to the museum on time for once, heading straight to the employee room and putting his jacket back on.

He stepped out into the public galleries now, ready to meet and greet families and give them backgrounds on the pieces that were currently on display. His smile widened, this was his favorite part of the day, for sure. With a wave he greeted Charis who seemed to be absorbed by one of the exhibits.

It's going to be a busy day," he called out as he walked towards her, feeling that she was happy yet apprehensive, and came to a stop beside her and gazing at the shipwreck that towered in front of them. "I can't wait."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jackie Rusa Character Portrait: Charis Myron Character Portrait: Andreus Zervas Character Portrait: John Lang Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Haas33
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Jackie Rusa was spending her first Conjoinment Day completely and utterly alone. Weirdly enough, this didn't bother her as she quietly shelved the books she had stacked in her hands, walking through the maze of bookshelves with ease. The smell of old books and old wood shelves wafted up to her, calming her tingling senses. As the last book found its place between two others, she brushed a stray curl back from her face with a long slender finger. She sighed, the soft sound shattering the complete silence that suffocated her. Sometimes she felt so alone in this world, trapped between two bookshelves, hidden away in a gigantic library surrounded by forgotten tales of love, adventure, and tradition. But then she'd spot a book she'd recognize and she'd sit down and read, filling the gaps in her existence with someone else's story.

She supposed she should probably watch the parade or go to a party of some sort instead of stuffing herself in her library for the night, but without her dad it just wasn't the same. Every year they would watch the parade, then meander down to the museum where he would tell her stories about the Orphic's, about his grandfather and his great grandfather and every tradition passed on down through her family (the gigantic library being one of them).

Jackie made her way up to the front of the library and turned off the lights for the night. She closed on Conjoinment Day because nobody ever visited on that day, too many other festivities in mind. Although she did have some great ancient literature preserved carefully in a special section of the library, some of the more famous and historical books she had donated to the museum, so most people made a trip there rather than the library when they wanted to commemorate the day. With one last glance into her dark library, she shut the door and locked it.

She pushed her way through the crowd to reach the museum not too far away, hoping to get in before people rushed in after the parade. When she pushed open the doors some families could already be found milling about. She wove her way through the maze of exhibits, stopping briefly at a couple that looked new. She skirted past two employees, not really looking for a run down on Orphic history (since she'd spent a good deal reading about it.) She continued on until she found her favorite exhibit, down the hall from the great ship wreck exhibit. It was what seemed to be a rather ordinary looking inkwell, more pot like, to match the Minoan style. Her great grandfather had made it as a gift to his wife who was a well known writer of her time. However, he wasn't much of a potter and it took him five times just to get the shape right, twice more for the clay to dry and set properly without breaks or cracks. His wife had loved it so much that she used it every time she wrote, and when she died she passed it onto their eldest daughter until it came into Jackie's dad's possession, him being an only child. As he was not a writer and the inkwell was starting to get some chips and cracks in it, he decided to give it to the museum so that others could admire it.

Jackie's father had told her this story every time she came here.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared longingly at the glass case holding a lifetime of memories.





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"Black coffee please. No cream no sugar. Atta boy Johnny." The voice of one of his regular customer barely registered in his head as he automatically tipped the coffee pot, little the dark liquid splash into the cup. Rickie, an older gentleman who came here more often than some of his employees did, sat in his usual spot by the diner bar.

"Coffee and Cream Cafe" Wasn't just a coffee shop, they also served sandwiches and breakfast, but their menu wasn't huge. The drink menu well surpassed that actual food menu, but John had decided to add in a counter by the register and barista area for a bit of a closer feel.

"Anything else I can get for you Rickie?" John asked, walking around from the counter, coffee pot in tow, ready to refill some of the customers waiting at the tables. It wasn't too busy because it was Conjoinment Day, but it certainly wasn't slow because some other places could be closed. John didn't bother to stick around for Rickie's reply because he knew it would be a no, the man only ever came here for coffee and never had food. Moving from table to table he noticed a sort of buzz between tables. People were kinder, occasionally getting up and striking a conversation with an Alterist or Oprhic, despite issues. It made John happy to see people recognizing each other as people rather than Alterist vs. Orphic. Tomorrow it probably wouldn't be this light and cheery. In fact lately his little coffee shop had been tense and high strung. Just the other day he had to kick an Alterist man out for nearly starting a fist fight with one of his older Orphic regulars. Things have been weird lately.

He strode over to a lone woman sitting a table. She was rather pretty and John put on a wry smile, gripping the coffee pot tighter. Maybe he would be lucky and wouldn't be alone again on Conjoinment Day.

"Excuse me, beautiful, would you like some more coffee?" He asked, holding up the coffee pot with a casual smile.