Character OTS


Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS


Ylva Skaði.
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  • OOC Name: Boaz
  • Total Posts: 12 (Find All Posts)
  • Rank: Exile
  • Age & Season: 8 (Winter ❅)
  • Species Equine
  • Lineage: Settler
  • Height: 17.2hh
  • Sex: Mare
  • Crystals: 20
  • Tag: @[Ylva]


pronounced ( ILL - vah )
Old Swedish name for she-wolf.

moodboard | gallery

scent black ice, iron, & patchouli.
sexuality bisexual.
face / voice katheryn winnick.

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OOC & Character(s)


A gray roan sabino would be the typical way to describe her coat. The base of her coat was a silver, grullo hue with splashes of ivory everywhere. Like wearing long socks, her front limbs were white from her pale colored hooves to where her shoulder began. Rear limbs similar, up to where her haunches started. A lot of ivory spots among her belly, shoulders, withers, hindquarters as well. Her entire face was white except for around her eyes; they were circled with the gray that matched her coat.

The white of her face ended near her muzzle, where the pale pink color of her hooves also matched her nose and lips. Completely bare of any hair. Along the ridge of her nose, she had two long horns; like a rhino's. The horn closest to her nose was the longest and the sharpest, while the horn right above it by a few inches was shorter with a wide base. She had deep violet hued eyes, yet they were fierce. Ylva’s mane was fascinating to say the least. At the base of her mane it was a dark gray, near onyx. It faded out to a lighter silver and the very tips were a red, as if dipped in blood. Her tail was only slightly different, as the base of it was pure white then it faded into onyx, then silver, and onto the red tips.

Her massive wings were feathered and matched the amethyst color of her eyes. Ylva bore many scars, she wasn’t a stranger to battle nor pain. She fought often. Along those scars, her body had rune symbols from her heritage; one along the crest of her neck that translated to: "Wolf", as her name means "She-wolf". Another on the inside of her right leg; the warrior rune. Those of her tribe were born with the runes that spoke of their purpose; she was a warrior that ran with the wolves.

She was wolf.


Once upon a time, the she-wolf was unforgiving and vile. She wouldn't think twice before handing out a death sentence to anyone, even those 'friendly' toward her. She thrived to bring pain and agony down on others, she wanted to share her internal pain with the world. To see anyone happy boiled a rage in her that wasn't even describable. Children were the only ones safe from her wrath, for they held a massive soft spot in her black, ice cold heart. As long as she was around, no harm would come to a single child or you would die trying. Ylva had a very rough upbringing, it shaped and formed her into the woman she was. A scarred warrior, not afraid of a damn thing. She laughed in the face of death and told him, 'not today.' She thoroughly enjoyed wearing the blood of anyone's, it was a normal thing for her. Like a beautiful pair of earrings, Ylva wore blood. And it was never her own.

While beauty was half the battle, in which she held effortlessly, brains was another huge part. Thankfully, the she-wolf had both. She made a point to wait and observe her surroundings, other's behavior, customs, laws, her mind worked like a well-oiled machine, piecing together bits of information to string along a plan forming in her mind. Her brain was constantly going, the amount of information she had stored away would fill up an entire library. Like a sponge, she absorbed everything and held onto it, saving for later use. If you were to tell her a secret, you could be sure she'll never tell another soul, but she'll never forget it, either. She was like a heavy duty safe, tightly shut under lock and key. Of course what came with an intelligent mind, was her quick wit and sarcasm. Quick on her feet, just like with her tongue. And yes, you may take that sexually. Rawr.

A lot has taken a toll on her, and even though she still has very dominate hostile streak in her, Ylva has grown quite and just. The source of her wickedness was no longer living, along with everything she had worked so hard for, so her heart felt empty and even worse than it had before. Her soul was lonely, no longer thriving as it once was when she was at the top. No longer seeing the point in trying, she was rather hollow inside. Even her Sister Wolf could no longer touch her. Sarcasm still riddled her tongue when she spoke, however that was rare nowadays. A very broken once-Queen. She doesn't feel apart of this world anymore, doesn't feel alive.

Every once in a while, her old self pokes out from under the blanket of darkness, begging to be brought to light once more.


There wasn't too much to be told about the past of the she-wolf. Okay, I shall rephrase that; there isn't much that she'd like to share with anyone. Just for the mere fact that it was in the past and there was nothing more to it. But alas, she will give you vital details.

Born among a rural island within a rather massive tribe. There had been four different tribes that made up the island, she just so happened to be born into the largest one. It wasn't like a normal story, she wasn't royalty. She wasn't a leader's daughter. Her father, Snorre, was actually a rather evil man. You could say he was the keeper of prisoners, the one who kept the slaves in line. Their tribe which was known as the Völsung clan, committed many unspeakable acts. Their lives were highly influenced by the direwolves, in which they live among them as one. The clan sacrificed a numerous of beings to their Gods, a strong belief of their Gods instilled since birth. They did not worship the Gods, yet lived among them. Often bathing in the blood of their enemies to please these said Gods.

The story of how Ylva became was unfortunate. Her mother, Turid, had been captured from a neighboring clan, Scylfing, while she had been out tracking a hunt. Little had she known she had been on Völsung grounds. But one of their own hunters had caught her, after roughing her up some, they brought her back for Snorre to do as he wished. Snorre had ended up taking a particular liking to Turid, gloating to others of her pure beauty and savageness of her. He bragged on how violently she fought as he forced himself upon her. That had resulted in her older brother, Steinar, being born into the world. Snorre and the other warriors took him under their wing quickly, teaching him the ways of Völsung. Once more Snorre forced himself upon Turid, this time she had given him a ride of his life, but she eventually was dominated. That was how Ylva came into this world. Although her being female disgusted her frenzied fathe , the few shieldmaidens among the tribe managed to talk him down from slaying his first born daughter. The one who possessed the name of Solveg, had recognized her rune markings, asked to take her under their wings and Snorre allowed it; he couldn't look at his pathetic daughter for another moment. So on she went with the maidens.

From the moment Ylva could speak she was put through extensive training. Her first word had been blood, which pleased the shieldmaidens greatly. Solveg knew of the legends of those who were born with markings, but she had never witnessed it herself. Until she happened to gaze upon the only daughter of Snorre and Turid. It was said that once every hundred years a life was born into the tribes with a prophecy carved into their neck; those were to achieve greatness. They were at ones with the wolves; most said they were joined together with one in the same body. Ylva had grown to call her, 'Sister Wolf', they shared the same body, however they were different. Only to communicate to each other through thoughts.

Being the only young female warrior was tough, but nothing Ylva couldn't handle. She found immense pride in watching the horror on the males' faces as she kicked their asses in a spar, or out-hunting them. She'd bring back a full grown buck as her peers sulked back with a hare. The direwolves even enjoyed hunting with her, while they saw other adolescences as a nuisance. Not Ylva. They saw her as one of their own, thanks to her Sister Wolf.

As the years passed, her parents had brought another son into the world, Magnus. Another bratty boy. However she paid no attention to him or any of the other boys, she was far too concentrated on training and being among the wolves. She had been about three years old when she had gone into a few battles with the others among tribes. Nothing too intense. One night she had been among her father and older brother after a victorious raid, which had ended with Snorre and Steinar forcing themselves onto her, taking turns as the other held her down. She had put up a strong fight, but it hadn't been enough. Her mother Turid had stumbled upon them, but pretended she saw nor heard a thing.

Later, Ylva birthed a daughter. No one had outright questioned her on who's it was, but there were rumors. Whispers. But she ignored them all and looked upon her daughter with passionate love. Naming her Dagný, she happily raised her. However a month or so later, Steinar had ambushed Ylva and her daughter in their cave, trampling sweet, innocent Dagný before Ylva could react and he took off. Leaving her there mourning over the bloody mess of her daughter. After she had gathered herself, she tore into her father's home, savagely slaughtering her parents, sparing Magnus but not without leaving a gash to his chest and a lesson not to ever fuck with his sister. Steinar had been no where to be found, so she had turned tail and sought after him; she surely didn't want to be there in the morning. A year had passed since she began looking for him, the trail growing colder and colder... She would never forget what he had done, but she gave up on the hard chase and began to wander, her heart cold and dead.

She had wandered into a vast land that she later learned was called Elysium, where she met many others and learned of their culture, their history. It was there that she accidentally ran into a broad female by the name of Destroyah, who proved to become very important to her later. She got caught up in the herd politics, captured by her Emperor and tortured, but it was nothing to her. Nothing that her family hadn't already done to her, so she laughed in his face. She spat at him. Ylva managed to escape, however it was obvious she was with foal now, but she returned to Destroyah's side. It was then that she had been introduced to her son that had come from her and Destroyah's pleasurable first night together. He had been born through their magical pool, which allowed him to come into the world already grown. Namerin. The introductions had been short before they all fled to find elsewhere to live. To forever leave Elsyium and her secrets in the past.

It had all began with passing through the magical barrier that kept Caeleste away from the rest of the realms. She had kept ahead of the others, in case anything had decided to surround them, Ylva wanted to be able to protect her family. But it just meant she had passed through the barrier first; when she reached the other side, she waited for a week for the others to join her. Ylva laid near the entrance, not having a clue on what to do without them. Everything had happened so fast - passing through not only made her lose the rest of her family, but it also terminated her entire pregnancy. Not that she complained, she hadn't wanted the child anyhow, but she passed through heavy with foal and came out the other side no longer pregnant. These lands were strange, that much she already knew.

Knowing she had to continue on, she set out to explore. The forest that she found herself in was a maze, she had to wait until a ball of light showed her the way out. Not a single living soul had been seen. She began to learn the geography of Caeleste and their lore, meeting the locals and other settlers. She had met a man, Entia, and shared glorious times with him. All while worrying about Destroyah and Namerin, but she felt helpless as far as they went. What was she to do? It was later she fell pregnant to Entia's child, just as low and behold, she sensed Destroyah once more. Ylva had raced back to the forest, near the barrier, and there she was - but no Namerin. At the moment, she didn't care. She rushed to her. It had been a stressful reunion, with confusion and trying to explain. It was obvious there was a massive time lapse, considering Destroyah said on the other side, Ylva had just went through the portal, yet on the other side it had been months since Destroyah had came through as well... so who knew how long it'd be for Namerin to show up? It hadn't taken long for the thick woman to realize the manly smell upon Ylva - it was a huge blow to their relationship.

In the time that Ylva had been in Caeleste, she had conquered a lot. She had became fairly close to their deity, Shishira, in which she was granted the sorcery of Teleportation. Gave birth to the son of Entia. She had nearly maxed her sorcery out, took over the Empire of Dead Horse Ridge, hand picked her seconds, fell pregnant to vampiric twins, held an intense romance with the second in command of a rival Empire, she was on top of the world. Her Empire was growing strong, she lived her days in the bitter cold, just how she liked it. Frolicking around with her Sister Wolf. It only took one night for everything to come crashing down. Her older brother, Steinar, had returned. She had been out hunting with her son, Igor, when he ambushed her and took her. Igor tracked them down for days, until he finally found them. Far, far away from home. It had been such a bloody battle, Igor nearly died, Ylva was torn to pieces. But they had managed to decapitate Steinar and they bathed in the blood that rushed from his neck.

It had been an entire month since that night they vanished without a trace. Ylva knew they couldn't return, although Igor pleaded with her. It was their home. Ylva just shook her head and said not anymore, it was best if they kept going. The thought of Thanantos tugged at her heart and mind, tears flowed down her face as she turned and flew off. She couldn't return to them, she wasn't the same woman anymore... she was battered and broken. She couldn't let them see her weak. And that was what she was.

That brings the two here, now.... Let's see what happens.



"Am I here? Or here? Or here?"

As she was once on the top of her game with her magic, she now had to start from the beginning from lack of use and different realms. Ylva knows what she wants to do, but the strength of it now was no longer there. With frustration, she begins to start from the beginning; with focus she can teleport small objects, nothing bigger than the size of her head. This comes in handy for when she doesn't feel like picking things up herself. She can even teleport small amounts of debris or earthly matters, such as dirt, sand, water, etc. However she can only move things a short distance at this time, and only things she can see at that exact moment.

Getting strong again, she can now find herself imaging an object that isn't in front of her, and teleport it near her from wherever it was. She can move things longer distances, along with bigger objects. She can now teleport small, live animals without killing them. At this point, Ylva can teleport herself to a known location, and others but only if she is physically touching them. This takes an enormous amount of energy and tires her quickly.

Moving larger amounts of matter such as a pile of sand and dropping onto an opponent's head was now an at ease thing. She could drop a small pond amount of water, in attempts to drown someone, she can now teleport others to her location, or herself to theirs. Ylva can reach into her heart and teleport herself to someone she deeply cares for location, without even knowing where they were, making finding someone incredibly easy. Unless blocked otherwise by magic.

Practically unstoppable, there were nearly no boundaries for her now. Ylva could take air and teleport it, causing shockwaves in the atmosphere, even an earthquake. She can teleport herself to just about anywhere in the world, along with anyone she cares to. Any amount of objects were a breeze for her. Teleporting herself or others out of the way of danger; even teleport an opponent mid-attack somewhere else. It takes much less effort to wield her arcana now.



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