NAME. Pandora AGE & BIRTH DATE. Prehistoric & Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/her. SPECIES. Aspect OCCUPATION. Worker at Woven & Volunteer at Porus FACE CLAIM. Zorzo Natharuetai Akkharakitwattanakul
biography
Pandora’s existence begins amidst the flames of the Abyss.
Born from Vulcan’s forge, she is a prototype for mankind but not one of them.
Never one of them.
The blueprint to Lilith, Eve, and every woman that came after, and yet she cannot be counted amidst their numbers.
She was never expected to be anything else than the first masterpiece, the first creation that leads to a thousand future vessels for the gods, meant to be set on the shelf and be left alone forever more. Not a true mortal, not a true daughter of the Gods, yet all gifted nonetheless. A lifelong companion in the shape of an avariel that understood animals better than people, a beauty to compare to the gods and a jar of wonders that she was asked— no tasked— to never open.
Created, not born, Pandora was an unnatural distillation of the cosmos and as such held a great curiosity by what was natural, what was meant in a way that she was not. Not a denizen of the light, nor one who walks the dark, she found forever at the borders between both, never quite belonging to either, neither quite fitting in. Curious by creation and akin to her godly creator, her intelligence shone in a way no other talents except those gifted by the gods did.
Not a warrior, but a lifelong learner, not a dancer but a patient weaver.
Entirely unlike the Gods, but far too precious to be discarded for her very existence held the key to the creation of humanity.
Pandora came into being under Vulcan’s careful hands and dedication. Outside of Vulcan’s forges as the sanguine elf elevated to god worked on his creation, outside of Elysia as disinterested gods mulled around and prepared for a new realm and the new vessels that would come with it, seraphim fought against the Great Old Ones residing on the realm Ulthar had chosen to conquer. Pandora was not made for that realm, no, the pleasure would fall to her successors, to the complete masterpieces given free will by Prometheus’ rebellion.
Pandora was not made for the mortal realm.
She wasn’t made for anywhere, never meant to go anywhere but the forge she was created in. And yet, she was given a privilege like no other: she was allowed to watch what would never be hers.
She was far too young to understand the seeds of bitterness and resentment planted upon her chest as she watched Laurelin and Telperion grow. Too young and ignorant to understand the mockery hidden behind the gifts given to her by the gods.
Pandora was too young to understand that one should never trust the gift of the gods.
Until she did, far too late for it to matter.
Created and thrown into Eden without any experience to hold to her name and with nothing but what she was taught to guide her, Pandora took to this new world with a sense of childish wonder as she went off to explore, arms always wrapped around her jar as if it was her lifeline.
She doesn’t know how true that is.
Through it all, her only constant was the jar she felt an enduring attachment to, the jar gifted to her by Vulcan — the man that she would grow to see as a distant father as she discovered the meaning to the word —, the jar that picked and prodded at her ever curious nature as she fought the urge to do as she was asked and not open it.
In the end, she lasted longer than she thought she would, keeping the jar closed even as Eden’s destiny fell upon it and she stood at the edges, waiting, watching.
Pandora stayed as Eden fell, as humanity died under the rebellion, all too curious to see the progress, all too curious and wanting to understand why would anyone do such a thing as the fallen did. She didn’t understand then, what it meant to hold fury against the gods in her heart, didn’t understand what it meant to be tricked and set aside by those that stood above.
With time, she would learn.
With time, she would see the unfairness of the gods and their games.
Pandora is just barely an adult, not yet grown unto herself, when Eden falls. She watches it fall, watches it burn, eyes curious and bright and yet pained at the misery she can see as the garden falls. Pandora is barely beyond a child, when she realizes she is one of the last Elysian left on the mortal realm.
She is alone.
Alone with her jar.
The jar she had wanted to open for so very long.
Curiosity wins, and the lid comes off.
Pandora opens her pithos.
Pandora opens the jar she was told to never open.
Pandora opens the box that contains all of humanity’s evils within.
The world is never the same.
Not when in this universe, in this life, there is no hope left behind.
Pandora opens her pithos, and with it, she loses the last vestiges of the innocence of her youth.
Open and quickly sealed once more, that means nothing in the face of famine, plagues, curses and disease. These curses upon the universe had existed before she did, but it was by her hand she had returned them to Earth, by hers alone.
It’s a burden she never forgets, not even as she takes her pithos and flees back to her father’s forge.
A forge that she finds empty, the flames gone and the man she had seen as a father gone.
She has no one to turn to with Prometheus bound and punished, Vulcan packed and gone.
Pandora is left alone, given just enough to keep her complacent, given just enough to ensure their precious blueprint does not leave.
But a house is not a home, when there is only one person to haunt its halls.
Elysia is awfully lonely, when you don’t belong amidst the gods nor their chosen lovers.
Elysia is awfully lonely, when you inherited your father’s creator’s curiosity, but none of his skills on creation.
Elysia is awfully lonely, when your only place is on the shelf; like a forgotten porcelain doll left alone to gather dust.
personality
+ Curious. Imaginative. Intelligent. – Insecure. Cynical. Resentful.
played by ori. est. She/her.