(no subject)
.the mundane;
» Name: Joana
» Age: 25
» Journal: procurando
» Contact: nightofautumn@gmail.com
.the myth;
» Pantheon: Norse
» God(dess): Skadi
» Reference: one and two.
» Family: {mother & father} Unknown & Thiazi; {spouse} Njord (divorced)
» Played By: Rhona Mitra
» Human Alias: Maud Blackwell
» Human Age: 33
» Ability: The area around her turns inexplicably cold without her conscious thought.
» Occupation: CEO of a major electronics company. A very good front to laundry money and help out the illegal part of the family. Everyone pitches in, dearies. Though, seriously, someone gave her power?. Consigliere to the Blackwell branch.
» History:
In the past, Skadi was a jotun, descendent of Ymir and daughter of Thiazi, a goddess associated with bowhunting, skiing, winter, and mountains. And her story begins being told exactly when she loses her father. She knows he hadn’t done the best choice in bride nor in taking the apples of youth away from the Aesir - it was basically prodding a bull with a very short stick - but he had been honorable in all his dealings. What he promised, he had given. And to have him killed in a manner that she would qualify as cowardly, that was enough to raise her anger. Alone as she was, Skadi armored herself and crossed the paths until she reached Asgard and demanded reparation. Two things. One of the Aesir as a husband and for someone to make her laugh, as they had caused her pain.
Loki managed the second, a little trick with an animal and testicles, nothing special. The first was a little more complicated. The jotun had seen the Aesir and one in particular seemed particular fair to her. Being allowed only to choose by the Gods’ feet, she chose those which seemed more beautiful, thinking it would belong to Baldr. They belonged to Njord. Not the happiest choice then though she totally dodged a bullet there. I mean, she wasn’t that into killing herself just because he died.
The couple marries and has a happy ‘honeymoon’ period, basically. But when it’s done and they start to decide where to live, the opinions diverge. Skadi was a woman of the mountains, she belonged to the snow and ice, to the wilderness in which her father had lived. Njord was the opposite, god of the sea, lover of waves and the seagulls’ cries on the mornings. They attempt an arrangement in which they spend half the time in one dwelling and then change. It doesn’t work, either hating the other’s home. And that seems fine too, as they decide to go each to its side, actually on friendly terms. And this, dear ladies, is how you manage a divorce.
She still retains this tie to Njord in some stories, going as far as worrying over Freyr when he loses his head over one of her own. Romance, how silly can these kids be. It also allows her to enter Asgard as she wishes. This gives her entrance to the particular dinner where Loki chooses to insult half Asgard and then some. And, stupidly enough, he prods the one thing he shouldn't. He claims himself as the murderer of her father. Not just the cause but the murder itself. Not smart. Skadi bids her time and waits in silence.
When Loki is caught and jailed, the goddess comes forward to place a snake above his head, one which slowly drips venom into his face. And leaves him there until Ragnarok comes, enjoy. An event to which we don’t know if she survives or not.
» Reincarnations:
first incarnation; Smacked into the African continent, did someone hate her up there? Luckily, Skadi never knew who she was in this incarnation or the result would have been worse than it was. Instead, the woman grew up fatherless - thanks to an opposing tribe. She caught the guy later on, by the way - and made herself into what could be considered vaguely a priestess. Vaguely because she never remembered giving much more advise than ‘get the hell with it’ in modern terms but whatever for them, right? A pretty calm life. For her, anyway.
second incarnation; And then Asia, because we must run every continent. This time, Skadi was perfectly aware though that took about ten years to kick in. Exactly enough to see her father be killed again in front of her, civil war being the wonder that it was. The young girl regained enough intelligence to take a good look at the guy and run away as fast as possible. She never found him but it didn’t mean she didn’t try. And if anyone noticed that Samurai wasn’t exactly male, they never told anyone. Who knows why.
third incarnation; Yes, her father died, dear god, her mother didn’t. Should have. Surely, the girl wouldn’t say this to her face but the court of Henry VIII wasn’t a place she wanted to be. Corsets or no corsets. What if the guy looked at her and actually liked what he saw? The rest of his wives hadn’t lasted that long for her to be secure of that chance. So, Skadi allowed her mother to play dress up for time enough for her to grow up - okay, she had a heart deep down. Very deep - and sell all the jewels she possessed. From there to France and then to Austria was a matter of a lot of persistence and a good creative mind. And she did marry - shock and behold. To a shepherd who knew enough to enjoy the mountains and the cold as much as his very odd wife who could disappear for weeks at a time.
present incarnation; The Blackwells raised their kids well, that’s all Maud had to say about that. It didn’t matter that the family virtually cared for little, it didn’t matter that the illegal dealings were as common as toys. It was the right environment for a mind that was too calculating even for a child. She thrived in it. And when she had the choice to pursue either venue of the family, she took the good choice and went both ways. Advisor to the head of the family but active in the ‘legal’ world, enough to keep a good front for the rest of the world.
It didn’t mean she didn’t get her hands dirty and it definitely didn’t mean she was bothered by anything her family did. It would take quite a lot to get her bothered. Like her father being caught in the crossfire thanks to the police. Yes. Again. It only underlined her ability to move in and out of both worlds, making sure to find the bastard this time. They haven’t found him still. Thanks, Blackwells and they’re probably the only people she’ll claim to ‘like’. Mentally. Very randomly. If ever. God, you’re all mushy people, aren’t you?
» Personality:
Everything that someone can expect from an individual who personifies ice-covered lands and winter, Skadi can safely fit the bill. Harsh, abrasive and cutting. If she insults someone, it’s certainly not a joke. If she seems serious and threatening, there is a high probability of her being serious and about to do something damaging. Take everything Skadi says at face value because, well, that’s what she is. Direct and to the point. She doesn’t cut corners into getting what she wants, be it emotionally or physically, nor does she request things. Conversely, the Jotun demands it. Though, credit where credit is due, Skadi doesn’t demand anything more than what she is due. Small miracles do happen.
Obviously, this way of being doesn’t grant her a lot of friends. Skadi will make sure to send a worldwide warning the second that bothers her. She’ll take someone with a backbone before anyone else and the sheer idea of ‘love and care’ being all that she needs to be a ‘good’ person will make her laugh to tears. Or reduce someone to tears, those aren’t mutually exclusive. The woman isn’t exactly cruel, she just doesn’t give a damn about the 99,9% of the population around her. And those 0,1%? Fine, her husband. He’s a seriously good lay and not bad for someone stuck in his situation, even if his tastes left a lot to be desired. His kids even. Some blood relatives (with brains, please, don’t strain her generosity. Has to last a couple more reincarnations). The rest, well, choose your weapon of choice if you’re whining and save the world from listening to you. More importantly, get the fuck out of her way.
Bitchy? Huh, yes, obviously. She won’t apologize nor find reasons to explain it. Though having her dad killed off in every incarnation was certainly character developing. And she is quite the character, modesty not being called into the equation. So tough, abrasive, somewhat honorable (unlike some Jotun she could name if she bothered. What, bitter? Never. That’s why she got a snake dripping venom onto a guy’s face for years. Because she’s not bitter at all, gosh). Skadi will never ask for permission to speak what’s on her mind either. It happens.
But she will never request for help either nor will she lean on anyone else. If she can’t manage, well tough, next life might be better. Or death, she’s not incredibly afraid of it. The woman has too much pride to lower herself to ask favors from anyone. Sooner would she find a very tall tower and jump without accessories than she would even consider the idea. No man is an island, they say. Skadi considers herself quite a functional one, thank you. Not it is completely true but it’s her belief.
Neither selfish nor possessive though, if you share her bed, you better share it just with her. Because you don’t mess around in her huddle. It puts a major damper in any of her ‘relationships’ since Skadi’s more into the ‘what’s yours is mine’ than ‘this is ours’. Totally wife material. But one can count on her being honest and loyal when she’s with someone, for as little time as it can be. It usually is little.
Oddly enough - or maybe not - another weakness lies with her own body. What in the world, right? Strong heat bothers her severely, which makes even bitchier than normal (it is possible) and makes her react much more instinctively. Violently like even.
That said, Skadi has modern replacements for her snakes. Just saying.
» Journal: orgundo
» Sample Journal:
Are you for serious? Someone just drops this on your lap and you actually go writing personal information on it.
Gods, you’re idiots.
But keep going, you’re entertaining.
» Sample Roleplay:
Kids had no self-preservation instinct. None whatsoever. It didn’t matter the age. As long as it was bellow fourteen, they all acted like she was some sort of playground, a big entertainment system which was there for their amusement. Maud wrinkled her nose in distaste, watching as the most energetic brat found its way into her make-up box and chose to paint her curtains all over again. Gods, it still amazed her. Why would people have these things voluntarily? They weren’t productive, they did nothing bar annoy the hell out of their parents. And relatives.
She was going to kill her sister for making her do this.
Crossing the room in a quick movement, the woman reached out to grasp the kid’s collar, trying to tune out how it began shrilling like she was about to kill it. Fine, him. Her make-up box fell to the floor with a soft thud and several contents began leaking towards the mat. She would deal with that later. First, to contain this little menace - which was annoying enough to be Jörmungandr itself - before her sister returned and didn’t manage to find her kid. There was only so much she could deal with.
In silence, Maud pulled her nephew to the bathroom and, yelling or not, pulled him into the bathtub, making sure to open the cold water strong enough to shock an adult, never mind a child. It took him little less than twenty seconds to finally shut up. Once he did, she grinned, head tilted lightly to the side as if asking if the show was over.
The boy sniffled. The woman grinned more widely.
Screw modern psychologies. This was how you treated a brat.
Still, it was her nephew, a small part of her whispered. Briskly, she pushed one of the towels from the hanger and wrapped the kid in it, making sure he was actually tucked in. And didn’t flinch when cold arms clung to her form, searching for warmth. Though she should have. Being soft would lead to repetition and repetition would lead to… it didn’t matter. Maud’s smile turned into just a flat line, slightly turned at a corner. Resignation, she could do that. After all, it was her sister’s brat and she could be rather threatening when she wished.
“Auntie Maud?” The little voice by her ear whispered, interrupting her inner monologue. A small pause and then the arms tightened. “I’m sorry.”
See? Screw modern psychologies.
“You better be sorry, brat.” But her arms were slightly - slightly - gentler as she placed him on the floor, searching quickly for a change of clothes before the kid dropped with a cold on her apartment. “Your mom wants you to be decent not to fu-make trouble for me.”
“I won’t again. Promise.”
Right, because kid’s promises were that lasting. Maud stared him down, the little face actually scrunched in an imitation of her expression.
“Promise.” And a small hand gripped her jeans.
Forget harm. Her sister was going to murder her the second she discovered the kid somehow was trying to emulate her.