why do i feel so strange?

Hilda Ísleifsdóttir: rune reader. carpenter. another lost soul affiliated with helvegenhq.

[dsxsbx]

[hayleykiyokcsarchive]

[thedcrkone]

open starter / sigrid’s hut

The door slammed behind the angry customer, another one lost due to her refusing to yield. It had been a stupid argument, one entirely avoidable, but it had ultimately resulted in another lost source of income. Sigrid took a deep breath and started putting away the refused leather belt, a gut feeling telling her it was wasted work. The customer would probably tell the entire town about their argument, more would look for new ways to acquire new garments. She knew it was a losing game, but she could not leave Hedeby, not while Estrid was with her father’s kin. She sat down on a stool with a needle and thread found in a drawer and started mending her sad excuse for a dress. She was entirely focused on mending the ripped grey cloth when the door swung open. In a wild moment of paranoia, she was sure the angry customer had returned and she pulled out her dagger and pointed it at the figure in the door. 

“You are not getting your coin back!”

[ulvemorder]

Willingness to leave the privacy of her home had been begrudging at best. Safe from the prying eyes of the villagers, the whispers that still followed from youth, aimed at the strange woman with an unnatural gait and a cloth to hide half of her face. Were it not for the trades that she had honed, Hilda may as well have left Hedeby ages ago. 

Startled by the furious patron that stormed out of the hut, she momentarily contemplated her desire to stay. Like a faun, she chastised herself, likely too wary for her own good. After the other had passed, she entered the hut-- and raised her hands when the other woman pointed the dagger. Clever enough to ascertain that her presence likely wasn’t offensive, she offered easily, “You don’t have my coin yet, though?”

[ulvemorder]

annacadogan

Pushing her shoe from her foot, Anna dipped her toes into the glacial waters, swirling them absentmindedly just as she had done in the icy lakes of her home country. Her eyes, greener than the lushest pastures, fluttered to a close as her mind drifted to her past. ·A voice splintered her train of thoughts, and with narrow, studious eyes she turned to face the intruder. ·

“Thank you.” ·She replied, quickly shielding the Celtic necklace with her hand. ·It had remained hidden up until now, buried along with her own beliefs. ·What would the others say should they know of it? ·A pagan still clinging to her Gods. ·It was the only aspect of her past life that hadn’t been ripped away from her. ·She lifted her gaze, noting the veil across her face. ·“I don’t think we’ve met before, have we?”

Hilda was astute enough to recognize when another had secrets to keep-- after all, she had many of her own. While her mind, enthralled with the inklings of new etchings carved into bone, into wood, would have betrayed her, she kept herself in check.

     “We have not,” the rune reader answered, offering a small smile that couldn’t be seen. She hoped it was heard, enough to convey that she really hadn’t meant to intrude, and that she bore no ill intention. The other’s accent struck her as well, and while she wouldn’t not comment, it intrigued her.

     “My name is Hilda,” she offered, shifting her weight from one foot to another. The trek had taken more strength than she’d anticipated, and the slope to the shore had been the worst contender. “May I sit? I just need to regain my strength, then I’ll stop imposing.”

[uurbain]

Damn, good reading today!

[annacadogan]

The sea softly dowsed the shoreline. The sound a gentle and pleasant hum to Anna’s ears. A stark contrast to the wild waves that once carried her here to Hedeby, a foreign land with foreign tongues. It had been over a year since she was brought over as a slave for the Vikings. Torn from her home, her family, her status and all that she knew. In between her new duties, she’d kept an open ear, noting their words, traits and traditions. Even as a mere slave, communication was essential. Over time she’d picked up a few words, and though she was far from fluent it was enough to get by. Her captors, the Grímssons had luckily shown some kindness towards her, but they were still her captors. Her fingertips absentmindedly drifted to the carved bone pendant hanging loosely from her neck, carved by her own hands. She yearned for her homeland. It pained her to think she’d never see the lush green hills of Wales ever again, but it was a future she had to accept.

[ulvemorder]

Water-- the depths of oceans and the swell of waves and the uncertainty of it all-- terrified her. Only thrice had Hilda been on a boat, and thrice had she nearly lost herself in the anxiety of it. The shoreline was safer, she knew this because she could cling to the land, steady herself, and she had enough fears to weigh her down. Eroding the distaste of sea-travel might be a distant dream, though one that she could slowly work toward. 

Despite it all, the sounds of the sea were far more calming than the submission to the fury of it. A lovely place to carve her runes, or craft hilts for Liv, free of the wandering gaze of whispering folk that judged more than they ought. Today she carried her knife and a pouch of wooden pieces to carve. Attention remained on the ability to walk down the slope toward the shore with her limp, and only when she was far too close did she notice the other. Her gaze adjusted on the pendant dangling from the woman’s neck, and her interest eclipsed her manners. 

     “That is a fine carving. Good craftsmanship.” She realized, too late, that her opinion likely wasn’t warranted. Hilda fidgeted, hoping the veil over her nose and mouth could hide her embarrassment as well. “-- Sorry, I did not mean to bother you.”

[ulvemorder]

Closed starter for @veithimathr​​

thump-- thump-- thump--

–The reverberation in her chest, in her ears, in her head, blood unto veins and weighing her down into the dirt until it might swallow her whole. At times, perhaps a blessing instead of a curse, how the weariness eroded the marrow of her bones and let her yearn for a reprieve that loomed far, far away.

Fresh from the heat of her small hut and deep enough into the forest to forget people for a moment, Hilda finally stopped running-- limping, stumbling-- and let herself breathe. And amid the chirping of birds and skittering creatures, she may have settled, were it not for the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves.

Wild eyes and wild wits, a careful stillness befell her, the landscape, the tension of an arrow kissing its rest and the bowstring in turn, gaze and aim synchronized, an unsuspecting doe a few yards away, drinking from a stream. Her prey had stopped coincidentally yards away from her, and while she questioned the elk’s own awareness of its surroundings while she stumbled through the foliage, it was better to not dwell. Soles of her feet moved slightly, as delicately as her limp would allow, into the ground. Three, two, steadysteadysteady--

The scream that filled the air didn’t belong to the doe, but to the young woman, cursing in an amalgamation of desperation and fury. Her quivering wrist had failed her, the arrow hardly coming close to its mark and startling prey away just the same. With heightened emotion arose a lessened grasp of control. Hilda’s arm and wrist quaked, useless, dropping the bow as spasming muscle betrayed her. She cursed, too loud for the silent forest, falling to her knees near the stream in a heap of self-pity and necessity for reprieve-- even a failed venture took much out of her.

    “Fuck the gods,” a murmur, caught beneath her tongue, answering a thought only audible inside of her skull. After all, was it not godly reason that had her suffer so? Hilda thought as much.

[ulvemorder]

BOLD EVERYTHING THAT APPLIES TO YOUR MUSE

PLACE IN SOCIETY

financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty.

medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged.

class or caste: upper / middle / working / slave / unsure.

education: qualified / unqualified / studying.

criminal record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no.

FAMILY

married - happily / married - unhappily / engaged or betrothed / partnered / single / divorced / separated / widowed

has a child or children / has no children / wants children

close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased.

orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent(s)

TRAITS + TENDENCIES

extroverted / introverted / in between.

disorganized / organized / in between.

close minded / open-minded  / in between.

calm / anxious / in between.

disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

cautious / reckless / in between.

patient / impatient / in between.

outspoken / reserved / in between.

leader / follower / in between.

empathetic / unemphatic / in between.

optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

traditional / modern / in between.

hard-working / lazy / in between.

cultured / uncultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between.

faithful / unfaithful / unknown.

BELIEFS:

monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic.

belief in ghosts or spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

belief in an afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

belief in reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

philosophical: yes / no.

SEXUALITY + ROMANTIC INCLINATION

heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / demisexual.

sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favourable.

romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favourable.

sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious.

potential sexual partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all.

potential romantic partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all.

ABILITIES

combat skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none.

literacy skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

artistic skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

technical skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none.

HABITS

drinking alcohol: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

smoking: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

other narcotics: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

medicinal drugs: never / sometimes  / frequently / to excess.

indulgent food: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

splurge spending: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

gambling: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

[helvegenhq]

THE TENACIOUS

NAME: Hilda Ísleifsdóttir

OCCUPATION: Rune Reader / Carpenter

AGE: 32

RACE: Human

GENDER: CIS FEMALE

FACECLAIM: Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey

PERSONALITY TRAITS

+ Independant

+ Determined

- Bitter

- Inflexible

BIO

An injury during birth crippled the daughter of Ísleif Haraldsson, and dreams of fighting as a shieldmaiden were shattered before they had even begun. She learned to adapt, with a limp and a wrist that only works half of the time, and works alongside blacksmiths to conquer dreams of war. Hilda loved to wander the woods surrounding her home of Hedeby, despite being forbidden to venture too far due her injury and subsequent inability to defend herself. 

Hilda was quite close to her father, often choosing him as a sole confidant. This is not to say that she wasn’t close to others, though she was often mocked for her disabilities– both the physical limitations as well as her “muddied head”– only due to her curious, yet strange, nature.

Around the age of 12, the village’s seer declared that she was also barren: “Freyja has nothing for you. I look and I look, and I do not see an earthly child in your womb.” This knowledge furthered Hilda’s already creeping depression. She thought herself unworthy of marriage if she could not at least provide a heir to a future husband. Despite reassurances to the contrary, she felt like she was a failure to her family, and to her village. 

By the age of 17, and with an agonizing amount of learned patience and coping, Hilda had acquired some combat skills. She was forbade from participating in raids, though her parents were confident enough that she could at least defend herself. As well as learning skills from the village’s aging carpenter, whittling away for her household’s needs.

Loneliness followed her throughout her spent youth, a stranger among her own people. Along with it swelled a rage at the nape of her neck, furious at the gods for what she perceived as a curse. Along the cusp of her 25th year, she longed to prove herself. Rumours of a massive wolf ransacking nearby farmer’s cattle reached the village. Foolishly, Hilda thought this an opportunity to prove herself: kill the wolf, keep the glory. 

That tale is as melancholic as the rest of her story. She killed the wolf, but at great cost, a large scar marring the right side of her face. Another jeer from the gods– the same side of her accursed limp and half-useless arm. Desolate and denied a greater purpose, Hilda often wears a cloth over her mouth to hide her scars. She is skilled in her work as a carpenter and reads runes for those kind enough to visit her on the edge of the village. For whatever it was worth, her hand-carved runes often shared small fortunes with her patrons, but never for herself. 

EXTRAS

None

[monetlilie]

[goth-ginger-witch]