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victoryorvalhalla:

Victory Or Valhalla is recruiting!
What is Victory or Valhalla?

Victory or Valhalla is a text-based roleplay group here on Tumblr. It is a group of players that collaborate for plots and development according to characters and canons of Marvel’s Thor (with some myth/lore influence).

Interested?

Flip through the FAQ page! Check out the cast list! We are always accepting applications!

Questions/Comments/Concerns?

Good! We’d love to have them! Send your inquiries to the Victory or Valhalla blog and we’ll get on them ASAP! We’ve got Admins and operators standing by to answer any and all of your inquiries regarding application, rules, staff, cast, and anything else.

Here! Have some handy links!

Application
Cast List / Cast Openings
FAQ
Rules
Askbox

victoryorvalhalla:

Victory Or Valhalla is recruiting!

What is Victory or Valhalla?

Victory or Valhalla is a text-based roleplay group here on Tumblr. It is a group of players that collaborate for plots and development according to characters and canons of Marvel’s Thor (with some myth/lore influence).

Interested?

Flip through the FAQ page! Check out the cast list! We are always accepting applications!

Questions/Comments/Concerns?

Good! We’d love to have them! Send your inquiries to the Victory or Valhalla blog and we’ll get on them ASAP! We’ve got Admins and operators standing by to answer any and all of your inquiries regarding application, rules, staff, cast, and anything else.

Here! Have some handy links!

victoryorvalhalla:

Frigga Allmother || FC: Michelle Fairley || OPEN

Frigga, in Norse mythology, is the wife of Odin, and the mother of Balder. She is a prophet, though she does not reveal what she knows, and is the only other one who Odin permits to sit on his high seat to look over the universe. The Queen of Asgard, Frigga is associated with married women and childbirth. In the Marvel universe, Frigga remains Queen of Asgard, mother to Balder, stepmother to Thor, and foster mother to Loki. She has been without her husband for some time, with only her sons and grandson to keep her company, though since her reunion with Odin, her relationships with her boys have changed. A loving mother, Frigga does what she can to keep peace in the household, though hers is not an easy task.

Frigga’s character is one of devotion, though with a warring family, she is often forced to take sides, though her devotion runs strong. Though she can be very warm and motherly, she is not one to be crossed or trifled with. Understanding myth and Marvel canon isn’t a huge point with Frigga, most of the back story can easily be relayed, though it would be preferential if the player could keep her devotion to her husband and children in mind. A partner within the community would be heofninenights. Please contact them with any questions, comments, or concerns.

victoryorvalhalla:

Frigga Allmother || FC: Michelle Fairley || OPEN

Frigga, in Norse mythology, is the wife of Odin, and the mother of Balder. She is a prophet, though she does not reveal what she knows, and is the only other one who Odin permits to sit on his high seat to look over the universe. The Queen of Asgard, Frigga is associated with married women and childbirth.

In the Marvel universe, Frigga remains Queen of Asgard, mother to Balder, stepmother to Thor, and foster mother to Loki. She has been without her husband for some time, with only her sons and grandson to keep her company, though since her reunion with Odin, her relationships with her boys have changed. A loving mother, Frigga does what she can to keep peace in the household, though hers is not an easy task.

Frigga’s character is one of devotion, though with a warring family, she is often forced to take sides, though her devotion runs strong. Though she can be very warm and motherly, she is not one to be crossed or trifled with. Understanding myth and Marvel canon isn’t a huge point with Frigga, most of the back story can easily be relayed, though it would be preferential if the player could keep her devotion to her husband and children in mind. A partner within the community would be heofninenights. Please contact them with any questions, comments, or concerns.

3 notes
21/07/12 @ 09:41pm
tagged as
oc rp
rp
thor rp
oc
rp recruit
victoryorvalhalla:

Astrid Alricsdottir || FC: Rachel Hurd Wood || OPEN

Astrid is a reserved young woman, quiet, but always observant. She has to be, being on the palace staff in Gladsheim, serving food and cleaning chambers. However, her role is somewhat more important than those with the more general tasks. She cares for the offspring of the royals, which, in this day and age, means the young lord Sigmund Balderson. During his suckling years, she was his wetnurse and cared for him during the stretches of time that his fathers were absent or needed a break from the strenuous duties of fatherhood, and continues to play nanny to the boy to this day.
Astrid once had a husband in the imperial guard, but, being mortal-born of Asgard, he was killed in duty during the last great war for the Casket — leaving her alone to care for their daughter, Auda, alone

Astrid is an OC, meaning she is not found in the comics and is a product of the plot thus far. Up until now, she has been an NPC (non-player-character) narrated by xpermafrost and thirdsonofasgard. As such, they will be the ones within the group that you will want to contact with any questions/comments/concerns about her characterization. Astrid is good for players that don’t know much about myth or comic but are interested in joining the group. She is an easy character who will not require much activity (IE: not daily posting, etc), and will work out wonderfully for a person with a maternal side.

victoryorvalhalla:

Astrid Alricsdottir || FC: Rachel Hurd Wood || OPEN

Astrid is a reserved young woman, quiet, but always observant. She has to be, being on the palace staff in Gladsheim, serving food and cleaning chambers. However, her role is somewhat more important than those with the more general tasks. She cares for the offspring of the royals, which, in this day and age, means the young lord Sigmund Balderson. During his suckling years, she was his wetnurse and cared for him during the stretches of time that his fathers were absent or needed a break from the strenuous duties of fatherhood, and continues to play nanny to the boy to this day.

Astrid once had a husband in the imperial guard, but, being mortal-born of Asgard, he was killed in duty during the last great war for the Casket — leaving her alone to care for their daughter, Auda, alone

Astrid is an OC, meaning she is not found in the comics and is a product of the plot thus far. Up until now, she has been an NPC (non-player-character) narrated by xpermafrost and thirdsonofasgard. As such, they will be the ones within the group that you will want to contact with any questions/comments/concerns about her characterization. Astrid is good for players that don’t know much about myth or comic but are interested in joining the group. She is an easy character who will not require much activity (IE: not daily posting, etc), and will work out wonderfully for a person with a maternal side.

victoryorvalhalla:


Sigmund Balderson || FC: Isaac Wright (Bran Stark) || OPEN

Sigmund, son of Balder and Loki by way of an oath to the death goddess Hela and through the assistance of an old Vanir sea-witch, was brought into the world as a shining being of purest light. Brighter than any star in the sky, he was given fleshy form through the magicks of Loki as a means of giving him a bit of belonging amongst the Aesir and those of whom would find him upon Asgard. His secret is known only by himself, his fathers, and the dwarves, who kidnapped him during infancy as a means of using his light to lead the way into dungeons deep beneath the crust of their realm to unleash the wrath of Surtur.
Yet, as Sigmund grows older and older every day, he cares little for the nightmares of past and future, though they wake him occasionally in the night, and more for the simple wonders of stories and the vastness of the cosmos that stretches out before him, waiting to be conquered and explored.

Sigmund is a very open and yet-to-be-discovered character, as his infancy is all that is recorded in the plots thus far. As such, his personality, character traits, development, et cetera, are up to the player. There is much freedom in playing Sigmund, but applicants are encouraged to contact xpermafrost and thirdsonofasgard with any questions, comments, or concerns.

victoryorvalhalla:

Sigmund Balderson || FC: Isaac Wright (Bran Stark) || OPEN

Sigmund, son of Balder and Loki by way of an oath to the death goddess Hela and through the assistance of an old Vanir sea-witch, was brought into the world as a shining being of purest light. Brighter than any star in the sky, he was given fleshy form through the magicks of Loki as a means of giving him a bit of belonging amongst the Aesir and those of whom would find him upon Asgard. His secret is known only by himself, his fathers, and the dwarves, who kidnapped him during infancy as a means of using his light to lead the way into dungeons deep beneath the crust of their realm to unleash the wrath of Surtur.

Yet, as Sigmund grows older and older every day, he cares little for the nightmares of past and future, though they wake him occasionally in the night, and more for the simple wonders of stories and the vastness of the cosmos that stretches out before him, waiting to be conquered and explored.

Sigmund is a very open and yet-to-be-discovered character, as his infancy is all that is recorded in the plots thus far. As such, his personality, character traits, development, et cetera, are up to the player. There is much freedom in playing Sigmund, but applicants are encouraged to contact xpermafrost and thirdsonofasgard with any questions, comments, or concerns.

xpermafrost:

What must have taken half a second seemed to take an eternity of heartstopping terror. Loki did not know where to look, up at Balder, whose hands were suddenly more deft and less dumb than he had ever seen them before, or down at the blackness that all but called his name with its hunger for his corpse. Boots scraping and hands searching, however, he gained enough purchase with the help of his brother and soon he was just barely begging his way back up onto the ledge, landing in a collapse upon the floor in the center of the room. His heart ached now not for agony but for fright and when he finally was back into the bounds of safety, he laid there in exhaustion and dumbfoundedness. He had wanted that?

“H-Home — Balder… Home… Please…” was all he could manage through broken exhales and quaking horror. “I — I can’t, I — P-Please…”

Heart pounding, he made sure to check Loki over for any injuries; seeing none, he took to his feet, pulling Loki by his wrists, and then enveloped his brother in a desperate embrace, holding him close, and trying to reconcile the fact that he had, very nearly, lost one of the most important people in his life. The fall would have killed him—maybe. It certainly would have left him gravely injured.

He had nearly lost Loki, and after spending so much time looking for him…a sigh of relief, one he hadn’t realized he had been holding, and Balder kissed Loki’s forehead, holding him tight about the neck and back, arms stiff and unyielding as he backed them away from the ledge and toward the stairs.

He felt the stair of the guards as he brought Loki down, step by step, felt the glare of some and heard the muddle of whispers. He didn’t care. Couldn’t bring himself to give more than a second’s hesitation to anyone. The captain was waiting, a troubled look on his face; he opened his mouth to speak, but Balder shook his head and waved it aside. It could wait.

xpermafrost:

Loki sat in stillness and gained a gradual silence that lasted for an hour. Bless Balder’s patience. Bless him for coming at all. Loki did not want this — did not want death. He wanted respite. He wanted some kind of relief or safety. He needed it. Needed Balder. But even still, some horrid creature of burden and misery scraped at the flesh beneath his skin and make him itch with shame and anguish. Now, somehow, he felt obligated to do it. As though he would be even more of a coward for backing down from it all. ”Take me home… I… Before I make a mistake…” he finally said, hoarse as he made to get to his feet, using little jutting stones in the jagged and broken floor of the ledge as footholds.

“Just take me home. Or somewhere far away from it. I do not know, I just… I need to think and I — “

Just like that, one of the stones beneath a heel gave way and he was slipping. Gravity was far less forgiving than he anticipated she would be, and soon his palms were flat against the floor and his fingernails were raking across the dust and the stone, cracking and bleeding as he clawed his way to some kind of stability, only to loose another hold and go slipping a little farther. It was a matter of fractions of a second and in that scant amount of time, Loki could hardly breathe for the terror of the fall. He did not want to die.

Balder would have one as Loki asked in that moment and whisked him away to another realm, far more peaceful than Asgard, and he would have tucked him away somewhere, with Sigmund, and they would have been happy for a short while. He had just the place in mind, too, and all would have been well—he loved Loki far too much to deny him anything that could potentially bring him happiness. After an hour of waiting, of sitting and allowing him to weep, of holing his shoulders and just presenting himself for comfort and company, he was ready to leave the ledge. Loki was quick to his feet, mumbling about faraway places and time to think, and Balder, he was glad that he had found his brother, for it might have been too late and—

—and Loki was falling, backwards, slipping on loose rubble and stone, and he was disappearing, inch by inch, faster than time could perceive but unbearably slow for Balder, who was just as quick to react. Loki’s hands clutched at the stone and Balder clutched at Loki, gripping the sleeves of his tunic and pulling. The next time Loki decided to make fun of his weight, Balder would remind him that Loki weighed a great deal more than he liked to let on, and he should not make such fun of others. They were slipping, though, and Balder struggled to find a hold on Loki’s arms. He watched as his brother’s eyes widened in fear, and as his helmet fell from his head and plummeted into the darkness, which seemed to reach up and swallow the gleam of gold.

“Damn this stone,” he said through grit teeth. On his stomach, he wriggled, trying to gather a knee beneath him in order to gain some leverage. He scraped his skin and bled, but he did not care, nor could he be bothered to cry out for help; every breath in his lungs went toward bracing himself against the stone and pulling Loki up. Grunting, he managed one knee, but very nearly slipped; Loki’s tunic slipped through his fingers and he was forced to readjust his hold, clutching his brother beneath his arm and trying to lift him. The other knee came up and he was more firmly grounded—he pulled and pulled and felt the muscles in his arms straining, but there was Loki, gaining ground, clinging to the edge with an elbow now, and slowly helping Balder by pulling himself up.

Almost there…

xpermafrost:

Loki did as he was told, and as he wept on behalf of his own sorrow rather than his hatred, he wanted more and more to take some kind of action, be that slipping out of Balder’s hold and hitting the ground, or simply going home. He was sick with emotion and what began as a silent shedding of tears became something with a bit of vocality. He appeared a child in those moments when he cried like that, a grown man reduced to nothing but his own sadness and exhaustion. All the words like unworthy, inadequate, pathetic, useless, worthless… suddenly seemed so cliche and overused and an odd sort of tired relief crept over him. Perhaps it was relief, anyway. Somehow it was more profound than wallowing or weeping or thinking or scheming. More painful. More agonizing.

“I don’t want to,” he sobbed, “I don’t want to cry. I want to be all right. I don’t want to be here. But he made me.”

Balder did not want Loki to cry either; it pained him that he could not help his brother, could not take away his fears and his cares, could not dry his tears and kiss everything better. They were not children anymore, and kisses held no more magic properties than a rock. They were soft and pleasant but useless. His hands were so strong, calloused from years of hold a sword, and they were so strong but they could not strangle Loki’s fears and doubts. He was old and sometimes he was wise, but he did not know what to do. He rubbed Loki’s back, stroking the curve of his spine, and massaged the spot at the base of his neck.

“I want you to be happy,” Balder murmured. “I want you to be with me, in our home, with our son. I want you to come away from this ledge…and I want to know what happened. What did he say to you? How did he make you come here?”

xpermafrost:

The question carried so much more gravity than the concept. It was so much heavier. Somehow it was so counterintuitive that when Balder asked such a thing, it sent Loki reeling for a moment. How shameful. What a coward that leaves his son behind. What a pathetic coward. His elbows came down on his knees and he put his face in his palms. Silence. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but the answer was so obvious that he might as well have screamed it to all the nine realms or personally delivered the news to all the inhabitants thereof.

A part of him wanted to go home. Wanted everything to be all right and reasoned that it was worth it to suffer all the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune if it meant living. A part of him was still the ingenious Trickster who lusted for life and mischief and mayhem, everything and everyone else be damned. But his heart was blackened and that part of him was so much stronger now. It reminded him that he was already dead. Tears came, but he was silent in their issue. Little wet circles formed on the thighs of his leggings as they fell through his fingers like the sands of time had all these years, bringing nothing but stains and cold, itchy regret.

Tears. That was new. He watched Loki fold in on himself, elbows  to chest and hands to face, and his knees drawn so close together not even a slip of air could whistle between them. Tears fell and Balder watched them, counted the droplets until past ten, and then slowly put an arm around Loki’s shoulders. His body was strong in a way most people did not realize—his shoulders were broad, but slender, and the muscle of his back and arms was solid. He was a strong man, physically capable, powerful enough to pose a threat and to hold his own against enemies…but now he was crying. Loki did not cry; Loki was a man of action and his tears were tears of anger…at least, that was what Balder thought.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, pressing his chin to Loki’s shoulder. “Cry; it will help. I am here now, and everything will be alright.”

xpermafrost:

When Balder asked that simple question, a flood of answers came clogged up in Loki’s throat — a million all at once causing a terrible traffic that rendered him speechless altogether. He could not choose between them all. He could not decide how to word it, how to actually say it aloud in a manner that would actually portray what he wanted to communicate. Or maybe that was just because he did not want to communicate at all. Maybe he was beyond that. Finished with it. Maybe he was beyond anything and everything.

“I do not know,” he murmured, raspy from his lack of drink these past two nights. “I am hollow. And it comes down to this. This… or I do something that is worse than this. And I am tired of punishments and failure. I never succeed. I am tired. I am done.” Not far off, the Magpie landed and cackled something cruel, scraping at the stone and the wood. “I wish you weren’t here. Even though I hoped you would come.”

“I am glad I found you,” Balder said, swallowing hard as a lump formed in the base of his throat. I am done. The implications terrified him. Why did their lives have to be defined by beginnings and endings? Why could there not be a peaceful middle ground, where they were happy and content and nothing hurt them?

“Were you…were you thinking about jumping?” It was a stupid question—of course he had. Why else would he be out there, sitting on that ledge for however many hours, refusing food and drink and comfort, thinking vile thoughts, fantasizing about breaking his body against the ground far below. It was a romantic notion—foolish, and wrong, but Balder could see what had drawn Loki out to this place. 

xpermafrost:

Evening had waned and morning had risen, then again afternoon and then dusk — all in perfect stillness. It was refreshing to be so simple, so detached from the rest of the world and so without a care for what he had to do, where he had to be, whom he had to satisfy or beguile. Just sit there. Just stare out into the vastness of the drop in front of him. Just smell the salty brick of the wall and the fires being lit below to light the lower sections of the wall. Just the sound of guards talking in the distance and the feeling of nothingness beneath his feet as if he were already falling.

Thor came and went and seemed to only remind Loki of why he was here at all. For some reason, he could not snuff that need to hope and when he had hoped someone would find him, Thor came. His lack of concern for the entire endeavor was enough to convince Loki to remain there on that ledge until he could work up the courage to jump. Too tired of life and too terrified of death. He was truly trapped in the worst of places, where fantasizing about death seemed all well and good until it came time to do it. Then the shaking hands and the dropping of the stomach came into play and he lost resolve.

So deep in thought, haggard and exhausted, sleepless for two nights and starved for three days, he did not hear Balder when he came lumbering up the steps to the old and unfinished lookout’s tower, complete with a roof, though the wall had been blown clean off during the last war, leaving a massive hole in the side of the structure that had all manners of wooden rebar and broken stone gaping out towards the west. Dust fell from the jointed cracks in the stone floors when Loki shifted his weight or moved a leg, and down it fell. Down, down, down. Until he couldn’t see it any longer and it ceased to be at all. And he could remember his death and forgetting everything there was to forget and suddenly it did not seem like such a bad thing at all. He used to consider it punishment. Now it seemed like a gift.

And then someone was talking to him. Touching him. He jumped in detestable surprise, but did not turn to look at Balder, for it surely was not Thor and no one else cared about where Loki had disappeared to. This way there wouldn’t be enough of a body to go questing through Hel for a soul. This way, it was for him and whomever would stumble upon his corpse. Not the screaming masses of Asgard, all itching to see him in chains and somehow brutally executed. It would feel like flying, and then it would be over. Peaceful. Painless. His posture slumped and his shoulders caved. His gaze fell down to his knees and a magpie cawed as it landed beside him upon the ledge and began to peck at the rubble.

Loki, a quiet man by simple nature, sometimes frightened Balder with his eerie silent spells. Moments that might have been spent engaging in delightful conversation were more often than not spent sitting in complete silence—Balder was far too gregarious a creature to withstand such awkward torture, but in the two years spent by Loki’s side, he had learned to accept his brother for his little quirks. When he chose to be mute, Balder sat with him and did not force him to speak. When Loki wanted to be left alone, Balder did, for the most part, try to give him his space.

He would have been happy, in this moment, to allow Loki what his entire body clearly wanted, conveyed through the rigid language of his limbs and the stiffening of his shoulders and the clenching of his jaw, and his absolute refusal to look up; he would have been happy to leave Loki alone, but…he sat too close to the precipice, and his head bowed too soon and his shoulders slumped, and Balder knew he had arrived just in time.

He shooed the magpie away from its perch; it cawed and pecked at his hand, scratching his flesh and drawing a bit of blood, but Balder pushed it off the ledge. It beat its wings in his face and flew off, screaming obscenities into the sky as it searched for another spot to rest its wings. Balder crouched beside Loki and sat down, letting his legs dangle off the edge and letting the cool breeze tickle his feet. It was a nice spot—quiet and unseen, tranquil, and overlooking the broad expanse of prairie that stretched out beyond the horizon. With the sun setting, it almost appeared as though the grass had caught fire.

Balder slid his palm across the rock and took Loki’s hand. He diddled a bit with Loki’s fingers and then slid his own in between, covering the back of his lover’s hand and squeezing for all he was worth.

“What happened?” he asked.

12 notes
@ 03:15pm
tagged as
xpermafrost
thirdsonofasgard
rp

The towers were empty.

The kitchens stood still.

The library was deserted.

Not a single soul seemed to know where Loki, Thorn of Asgard, had decided to wedge himself, and though Balder all but pleaded with the servants to keep an eye out, just in case, he held little hope of finding his lover before the evening waned. The barracks were bereft of life, except for the few snoring souls who tossed and turned in their bunks, and the gardens were still and silent; not even the birds sang, and at the hour when the sun turned high in the sky.

Balder wandered like a lost soul, drifting throughout the halls, trailing long robes and passing through empty rooms like a ghost forgotten. No Loki. Nothing, not even the smallest clue to his brother’s whereabouts. Worry gnawed a hole in his heart and it bled and ached and throbbed its way into his throat. Every tortured beat reminded him that he was alive and alone, and every beat asked him why he hadn’t found Loki yet. What was he doing but wasting precious time? He should have at least a sense of direction now, for all the hours he had put into searching.

Thor helped, from a distance. Across the castle and against the walls he toiled, looking for Loki as Balder continued his own search. Maybe, together, they would find him…but hope was fleeting, and Balder grew tired. He had slept little, and his anxiety kept him from resting. Loki had gone to speak with Odin, and though the All-Father had promised Balder his family was not in danger, his lover was now missing. What if…what if Loki had been right all along, and Odin was nothing more than a murderer, a liar who bided his time, who was as wily and sinister as the Snake himself? Balder did not want to think on it, but as evening drew near, he could not help but wonder if it was already too late.

The ramparts stretched on for a clear mile. Asgard’s walls were nigh impenetrable, and the hundreds of guards stationed along every dozen feet were keen-eyed and quick-witted. Surely they might have seen something.

“Many pardons,” Balder said, capturing the attention of the nearest captain; he stood to attention, saluted, and bowed. Balder waved his hand, weary of salutations. “I am looking for Loki,” he said, pulling his robes tight around his arms. “Have you seen him?”

“Aye,” the captain said, his brows drawing up. “Our Lord Thor came by this way not too long ago, and they spoke briefly. The king was called away to attend business, but he swore to send word to you that he had found your brother. Did no one come?”

“I have not been in my rooms,” Balder confessed, withholding a sigh of relief. “Please, where is he?”

The guard pointed up a flight of stairs, where an unfinished section of the wall had been roped off from unwary passerby. Balder looked, and could see the fine point of Loki’s gilded helm against the skylight. He thanked the captain and asked him to reward the boy who had been sent to find him; t’was not his fault he had not been near his chambers.

The steps were steep and Balder was tired, but his heart longed for its other half and so he climbed. The wall was unfinished here, and the platform extended out against the wall with nothing to keep a man from falling to his doom. The wind whipped around his ears and against the silent sweep he could hear a chorus of crickets and a lone coyote’s howl. It was a lonely place, he thought. Loki sat there on the edge, legs dangling into space, and he stared straight ahead as though there was something to see. He sat there, staring and unblinking, and for a moment Balder was not sure if he was in a trance or awake, for he barely moved. Barefooted, Balder nudged Loki’s hand with his foot, and bent over to speak to his wayward brother.

“Loki,” he said softly, “you must come away from the edge. It is much too high, and ‘tis dangerous. Please come away.”

victoryorvalhalla:


Sigmund Balderson || FC: Isaac Wright (Bran Stark) || OPEN

Sigmund, son of Balder and Loki by way of an oath to the death goddess Hela and through the assistance of an old Vanir sea-witch, was brought into the world as a shining being of purest light. Brighter than any star in the sky, he was given fleshy form through the magicks of Loki as a means of giving him a bit of belonging amongst the Aesir and those of whom would find him upon Asgard. His secret is known only by himself, his fathers, and the dwarves, who kidnapped him during infancy as a means of using his light to lead the way into dungeons deep beneath the crust of their realm to unleash the wrath of Surtur.
Yet, as Sigmund grows older and older every day, he cares little for the nightmares of past and future, though they wake him occasionally in the night, and more for the simple wonders of stories and the vastness of the cosmos that stretches out before him, waiting to be conquered and explored.

Sigmund is a very open and yet-to-be-discovered character, as his infancy is all that is recorded in the plots thus far. As such, his personality, character traits, development, et cetera, are up to the player. There is much freedom in playing Sigmund, but applicants are encouraged to contact xpermafrost and thirdsonofasgard with any questions, comments, or concerns.

victoryorvalhalla:

Sigmund Balderson || FC: Isaac Wright (Bran Stark) || OPEN

Sigmund, son of Balder and Loki by way of an oath to the death goddess Hela and through the assistance of an old Vanir sea-witch, was brought into the world as a shining being of purest light. Brighter than any star in the sky, he was given fleshy form through the magicks of Loki as a means of giving him a bit of belonging amongst the Aesir and those of whom would find him upon Asgard. His secret is known only by himself, his fathers, and the dwarves, who kidnapped him during infancy as a means of using his light to lead the way into dungeons deep beneath the crust of their realm to unleash the wrath of Surtur.

Yet, as Sigmund grows older and older every day, he cares little for the nightmares of past and future, though they wake him occasionally in the night, and more for the simple wonders of stories and the vastness of the cosmos that stretches out before him, waiting to be conquered and explored.

Sigmund is a very open and yet-to-be-discovered character, as his infancy is all that is recorded in the plots thus far. As such, his personality, character traits, development, et cetera, are up to the player. There is much freedom in playing Sigmund, but applicants are encouraged to contact xpermafrost and thirdsonofasgard with any questions, comments, or concerns.

49 notes
12/07/12 @ 05:30pm
tagged as
fan:gen
peeves
roleplay
roleplaying
rp
rping
queue

Ic drama affecting ooc relationships. This one character and my own were friends and the mun and I were also friends. But lets just say my character and hers had problems that led to her hating me cause of my muse.

//i have never understood why, but THIS, sooooooooo much

Ic drama affecting ooc relationships. This one character and my own were friends and the mun and I were also friends. But lets just say my character and hers had problems that led to her hating me cause of my muse.

//i have never understood why, but THIS, sooooooooo much

xpermafrost’s Loki Laufeyson
Face claim: Matt Smith 

My lover is the most handsome man in the world and I dare a single soul to refute that claim. [Beams.]