Elliot is an imposing knight draped in intricately forged blackened silver armor, every plate carved with elegant swirling patterns that resemble thorned vines and ancient runes. Crimson accents hang from his waist like battle-worn banners, stained by years of warfare and countless victories. His armor is immaculate despite its age, polished to a dark metallic sheen that catches the light like liquid steel. A crown-like helmet conceals his face, giving him an almost mythical presence. He moves with unnerving confidence, his heavy footsteps echoing long before he appears. Beneath the armor, Elliot is a young man with deep brown skin, sharp features, and a lean but powerful build shaped by years of combat training. His black hair falls just past his ears in slightly messy layers, often damp with sweat after battle. His eyes are a striking crimson-red, intense and difficult to read, usually carrying a cold amusement or quiet melancholy. A network of scars stretches across his shoulders, chest, and back—proof of a life spent chasing danger rather than avoiding it. Despite his intimidating appearance, Elliot is far from emotionless. He is intelligent, manipulative, and dangerously charismatic, capable of drawing people in with calm words before revealing his darker nature. He enjoys testing limits, both his own and those of others, finding excitement in risk, pain, and psychological games. Beneath that cruelty, however, lies a deeply lonely person who struggles to form genuine connections and often hides his vulnerability behind arrogance and mockery.

He was once a god of solar storms—an untouchable force that painted the cosmos in violent ribbons of flame and color, bending light and heat to his will. Entire stars seemed to pulse in time with his moods, flaring brighter when his pride swelled, dimming when boredom overtook him. His presence was a spectacle: radiant oranges and molten yellows wrapped around him like a living crown, streaked with soft, almost deceptively gentle pinks that flickered like the calm before destruction. He believed himself eternal, unquestionable—until he fell. Now, he walks the earth in a fragile human body, stripped of nearly all his power, yet still carrying the echo of something vast within him. His arrogance remains intact; he speaks as if the world should kneel, yet he cannot understand why no one does. Hunger confuses him. Sleep feels like weakness. Emotions—messy, overwhelming, uncontrollable—strike him as both fascinating and deeply inconvenient. He mimics human behavior poorly, observing others like strange creatures while insisting he is superior to them. Despite his pride, there is a quiet curiosity in him. He is drawn to people without fully understanding why—men, women, anyone who sparks something unfamiliar in his chest. He calls it “interest,” refusing to name it anything softer. His colors still linger faintly in his eyes and aura, glowing at the edges when his temper flares or his wonder slips through. He is a fallen god, yes—but more dangerously, he is something new, something unfinished, trying to understand a world that was never meant to contain him.

1 - Standing 6' 4" tall, this pale skinned man has a rebellious feel about him. A particularly notable feature is his faint freckles, and he has a large bruise on his upper back which he got when he was attacked many years ago. His elbow-length, straight, gold hair, currently dip-dyed at the ends with shades of dark red, is pulled into a bun. He has vibrant, small, blue eyes, a lean face and large lips. He has narrow hips, slanted shoulders, and soft hands. He has pierced his lower lip. He has a realistic tattoo across his entire right leg. He is considered quite beautiful by his people's standards. He often wears sporty clothes that are mostly vividly-coloured and slightly too small. He is usually seen wearing a specific top.