Character OTS


Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS


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  • OOC Name: Kagome
  • Total Posts: 74 (Find All Posts)
  • Rank: Fjalltindr Commoner
  • Age & Season: 8 (Winter ❅)
  • Species Equine
  • Lineage: Settler
  • Height: 19hh
  • Sex: Stallion
  • Mate: None
  • Crystals: 750
  • Tag: @[Nevermore]


"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil"

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OOC & Character(s)


Whom shall I fear...
His height is staggering to most he happens to stumble across. Long slender limbs hold up his frame, help him to tower over the ground he treads upon. A freak of nature is he, possessing forearms in the shape of eagles talons covered in dark charcoal scales. Curling ebony claws jut out from each toe giving the forefront of his bodice a menacing appearance. Powerful hind legs sport large charcoal colored hooves, all limbs laced intricately with rippling muscle despite his deceivingly lanky appearance. The entirety of his coat is dark in coloration, sharing mixtures of black and greys. Vast ebon wings sprout from his shoulder blades with iridescent feathers mocking those of a raven. A thick, broad neck holds his head in place. His face is ghastly yet eerily charming, with sunken cheeks and glowing, pupiless purplish blue eyes. Hidden with his jaws are rows of hypodermic needle like teeth. A long and luscious mane flows from the nape of his neck and forelock down past the length of his shoulder.


Whom shall I be afraid...
To a degree, Nevermore remains to be a rather elusive creature. Drifting through life like some sort of invisible specter silently haunting the space of the living. One could even go as far as to say that the phantom holds a strange finesse that draws others to him. But by no means is his he shy, for he is far from it. On the contrary he is quite the opposite, speaking valiant soft words clothed in a thick Romanian accent. His ways teeter between the realm of suave tactful elegance to utter indifference when regarding others. He has seen enough to know when stroking an ego can gain him favor. Though most of the time if he gifts one a compliment then he ultimately means it wholeheartedly. While it might seem like he is a lamb in wolf's clothing Nevermore can have a side to him that can make even the fiercest of demons tremble in his wake. His words become like a serrated blade dripping with poison, ready to harm just as bad as any wound.


Nevermore was not born in the same way that most equine are birthed. No. He was born from the mind of a crazed alchemist obsessed with the idea of creating life. The equine spent his life locked away trying to perfect his test subject only to fail time and time again. He constantly changed out body parts for others hoping for the right concoction to bring his precious beast to life. That day finally came but at the cost of many, many years later. It was only once the alchemist realized that his subject needed a soul to be complete did Nevermore open his eyes for the very first time. The stallion gifted a fraction of his soul to his son and Nevermore awoke, gasping for his first few breaths.

Yet it came at a price. The stallion succeeded in creating a son for himself, and giving give to him. But time was running out for him. He spent his last few years teaching Nevermore all that he knew and kept him sheltered from the outside world. Despite never coming in contact with other horses the stallion taught him how to display proper emotions, fearing that Never would remain robotic in his responses. Nevermore retained his teachings and studies becoming more and more life like as the months passed up until his master's passing. Until that point he had simply done what he had been told not displaying much emotion, yet the death of the stallion roused his very first true feeling of sadness and grief.

Centuries passed and the decrepit castle that Nevermore stayed within began to succumb to the elements causing him to leave. Within the midst of his journeying he has met different individuals off and on all of them contributing to his growing knowledge in some way or another, giving him valuable life lessons. Decades continued to pass by like the blink of an eye for him until he finally stumbled upon the large foretelling signs of the bifrost. Upon entering and navigating through its roots he could feel his immortality slipping away from him. Only to be replaced with a much younger feel to his body.



: The power to manipulate blood, whether its from oneself, others or free-flowing.

Apprentice: His bending can cause small involuntary twitches and jerks within the bodies of himself and others. Or he can shift the flow of blood and even thicken or thin it out for a few precious seconds, though this is very taxing on him

Adept: Gaining strength in his element, Nevermore can now control blood in any aspect. Clotting, thinning regeneration. Whether its by using it as a projectile outside of the body and using himself or others as a marionette for a few strained minutes

Master: He can wield the blood of others and himself with ease. Creating helpless puppets, shifting the pressure of blood to dangerous levels within a body, cleanse, and boil the blood of others though he still has bouts of struggle

Virtuoso: No longer is he held back by any signs of wielding his arcane. Woe unto those who cross him.