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Description

[ PLAYLIST] || [ MOOD BOARD ]

Name: Lanval
Age: Adult
Moon Phase: Waning Crescent Moon- Hawthorn, the Illusionist
Gender: Male
Height and Weight: 88cm, 42kg
Territory: Kol
Ranking: Eiti Dios
Familiar: Calamita, the murder toad princess

Abilities: Banshee (Tier 2)

STAGE 1: COMPLETE

In the first stage, the Banshee finds that they are prone to falling into a trance-like state, leading them toward locations where creatures or other wolves have recently lost their lives. They usually have no memory of their wanderings, simply waking up in an unfamiliar area with no idea how they came to be there, sometimes alongside their gruesome discovery.

Peculiar Hunt - SVA ||| SVA | Trail of Death | Collab / Nothing Wasted (Asra / Lanval) - SVA ||| [Svajone] An Unfortunate Turn

STAGE 2: COMPLETE

As the Banshee's ability grows, they become more attuned to their senses, sometimes able to sense imminent life-threatening dangers. They seem to have a permanent sense of death, but it is generally impossible for them to pinpoint the feelings or identify exactly who has been marked for tragedy.

A Bad Taste (Lanval) - SVA ||| SVA | Death's Call | Collab ||| Consequences | Svajone

STAGE 3: Master

In addition to the above, the Banshee can now use a special howl - sometimes called a scream - a terrible, shrieking sound which travels far and wide. The scream causes intense pain for anyone who hears it, often immobilizing them, but for the Banshee it acts to drown out distraction and noise, enabling them to focus on their innate senses. In this way, the Banshee may be able to hone in on an individual who is in mortal danger.

SVA | Co-Conspirators | Lanval / Yaotyl / Ramses ||| Strange Encounters (Florence / Lanval) - SVA ||| Show-stopping Number (Lanval/Raksha/Malaysia) -SVA

Family: Lamorak (Father, deceased), Kotryna (Mother), Thebe (Maternal Aunt, deceased), Elara (Cousin)

Theme(s):
[To Noise Making (Sing)]
[I'm Still Standing]

You don't have to sing it right
who could call you wrong?
Put your emptiness to melody
your awful heart to song
you don't have to sing it nice
but honey sing it strong
at best you'll find a little remedy
at worst the world will sing along

"Hey baby my banshee senses say you're DYING to kiss me." - Courtesy of Loomi

Personality

Cunning / Industrious / Personable

Lanval prides himself most on his wits, and believes in his ability to turn any situation to his advantage. This is not entirely hubris, and he does have a knack for being in the right place at the right time. Still, being outwitted by others is far more of a possibility than he’d like to admit, and his estimation of his own intelligence is somewhat inflated by subtle narcissism.
He is something of a busybody, and does not like to be caught lazing around. It's rare to catch him without a task at hand, whether it's hunting, scouting, or more frivolous pursuits investigating the island's landmarks.
Lanval has a laid-back, jovial manner that makes him easy to get along with. He does not express his strong opinions openly, and often plays the role of supporter or enabler to the opinions and plots of others, as long as they align with his true motivations. He sincerely enjoys chats and jaunts with his packmates, and expresses it openly.

Flirtatious / Independent / Critical

Lanval is a shameless flirt who’s more than happy to chat up those around him regardless of their appearance, gender, or orientation. His true tastes are hard to parse, as he tends to only act on or feign attractions for the purpose of inflating his own ego. His intent in this is harmless fun, and he does not push it to the point of making others uncomfortable. Not intentionally, anyway.
Though he spends a good amount of time socializing with his packmates and enjoys their company, Lanval dens alone and does not tend to form strong personal bonds with others. He has a warm, inviting manner that may cause others to feel that they have grown close to him, but this feeling is usually not reciprocal, and he prefers to keep others at arm’s length emotionally.
Despite using his words to achieve his ends quite frequently, or perhaps because of it, he is often suspicious of the words and promises of others. He prefers to see proof or concrete action before he can be swayed, and will often err on the side of caution. His aforementioned distance from those around him can also make him paranoid of their true intentions, and he may neglect to acknowledge truth in their words when a more reasonable wolf might find that truth obvious.

Manipulative / Proud

Lanval has a habit of manipulating others to get what he wants, though this is not generally with malicious intent. He sincerely believes that he has clearer insight than those around him, and does not have any qualms about using deception if he needs to in order to get others to acknowledge or abide by his designs.
He is quite physically fit and has no issues fighting or taking on risks. While he is usually careful about how he throws around his strength in order to maintain his amicable reputation, he has a proud and haughty side that can be goaded into making bad decisions in this regard. So if he gets called out, he’ll probably throw down.

History
Birth and Parentage: Lanval was one of only two pups in a litter fraught by a difficult pregnancy. Only days after their birth, his frail sister breathed her last. As their mother wept, their father furrowed his brow in contemplation. Mother, father, son. The rule of three. He saw it as a good omen and said that the strongest had survived; their son would be special. Lanval’s mother was disgusted by her mate’s callous acceptance and hardened her heart against him. Though she would remain faithful to him for their son’s sake, their relationship soon turned cool and formal. As her son grew to be more and more like his father, she would often lament the daughter who never had the chance to thrive, comparing her son bitterly to the sibling whose life had been stolen.
Youth: A quiet upbringing was tinged by unrest as a she-wolf called Malaysia began to spread wild tales of magic through the pack. Lanval’s father was a vocal supporter of her ideals, and he often shared the myths and legends that she spoke of with his young son, which led to more bitter disagreements between mother and father. Lanval’s life soon fell into chaos with his father’s unexpected death, stunned by a hoofstrike to the head during a hunt and promptly gored by a large buck red deer. Some of the more superstitious wolves of the pack believed his death to be retribution, a strike from the island itself at one who attempted to go against the natural order. These whispers reached a young Lanval, who came to his mother in a rage- how could they tarnish his father’s memory with such hateful lies? A change came over her face, a look of malice that he had never seen in her before, and he realized that the wolf before him was a stranger. They’re right, she hissed, the years of repression finally taking their due. He deserved it. Hurt and confused, Lanval turned to flee, and his mother grabbed his tail in her teeth to pull him back in a knee-jerk reaction. The rough pull damaged something in his tail and gave it a subtle kink that it would never recover from. This confrontation opened a gulf between mother and son that neither wanted to bridge, and their relationship remained tense and aloof as he grew into adulthood.
Recent: Though infatuated by the prospects of power and the tenets of Malaysia’s followers since his father shared them with him in his youth, Lanval never showed them any public support, preferring to place his bets on superior numbers. When Svajone and his followers landed on the island he was conflicted, but held back from her call, and in the aftermath was glad that he did. To him, her massacre was the height of foolishness, and an abominable waste. It had taken time beyond memory for the humans to return, and now they were gone again in one senseless bloodbath when they should have been carefully cultivated, and put to greater use. Confident he had made the right decision, he assimilated into the heart of the Tundes. There was no depending on the competence of others; he would have to find his own road to power.
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Description

[ PLAYLIST] || [ MOOD BOARD ]

Name: Lanval
Age: Adult
Moon Phase: Waning Crescent Moon- Hawthorn, the Illusionist
Gender: Male
Height and Weight: 88cm, 42kg
Territory: Kol
Ranking: Eiti Dios
Familiar: Calamita, the murder toad princess

Abilities: Banshee (Tier 2)

STAGE 1: COMPLETE

In the first stage, the Banshee finds that they are prone to falling into a trance-like state, leading them toward locations where creatures or other wolves have recently lost their lives. They usually have no memory of their wanderings, simply waking up in an unfamiliar area with no idea how they came to be there, sometimes alongside their gruesome discovery.

Peculiar Hunt - SVA ||| SVA | Trail of Death | Collab / Nothing Wasted (Asra / Lanval) - SVA ||| [Svajone] An Unfortunate Turn

STAGE 2: COMPLETE

As the Banshee's ability grows, they become more attuned to their senses, sometimes able to sense imminent life-threatening dangers. They seem to have a permanent sense of death, but it is generally impossible for them to pinpoint the feelings or identify exactly who has been marked for tragedy.

A Bad Taste (Lanval) - SVA ||| SVA | Death's Call | Collab ||| Consequences | Svajone

STAGE 3: Master

In addition to the above, the Banshee can now use a special howl - sometimes called a scream - a terrible, shrieking sound which travels far and wide. The scream causes intense pain for anyone who hears it, often immobilizing them, but for the Banshee it acts to drown out distraction and noise, enabling them to focus on their innate senses. In this way, the Banshee may be able to hone in on an individual who is in mortal danger.

SVA | Co-Conspirators | Lanval / Yaotyl / Ramses ||| Strange Encounters (Florence / Lanval) - SVA ||| Show-stopping Number (Lanval/Raksha/Malaysia) -SVA

Family: Lamorak (Father, deceased), Kotryna (Mother), Thebe (Maternal Aunt, deceased), Elara (Cousin)

Theme(s):
[To Noise Making (Sing)]
[I'm Still Standing]

You don't have to sing it right
who could call you wrong?
Put your emptiness to melody
your awful heart to song
you don't have to sing it nice
but honey sing it strong
at best you'll find a little remedy
at worst the world will sing along

"Hey baby my banshee senses say you're DYING to kiss me." - Courtesy of Loomi

Personality

Cunning / Industrious / Personable

Lanval prides himself most on his wits, and believes in his ability to turn any situation to his advantage. This is not entirely hubris, and he does have a knack for being in the right place at the right time. Still, being outwitted by others is far more of a possibility than he’d like to admit, and his estimation of his own intelligence is somewhat inflated by subtle narcissism.
He is something of a busybody, and does not like to be caught lazing around. It's rare to catch him without a task at hand, whether it's hunting, scouting, or more frivolous pursuits investigating the island's landmarks.
Lanval has a laid-back, jovial manner that makes him easy to get along with. He does not express his strong opinions openly, and often plays the role of supporter or enabler to the opinions and plots of others, as long as they align with his true motivations. He sincerely enjoys chats and jaunts with his packmates, and expresses it openly.

Flirtatious / Independent / Critical

Lanval is a shameless flirt who’s more than happy to chat up those around him regardless of their appearance, gender, or orientation. His true tastes are hard to parse, as he tends to only act on or feign attractions for the purpose of inflating his own ego. His intent in this is harmless fun, and he does not push it to the point of making others uncomfortable. Not intentionally, anyway.
Though he spends a good amount of time socializing with his packmates and enjoys their company, Lanval dens alone and does not tend to form strong personal bonds with others. He has a warm, inviting manner that may cause others to feel that they have grown close to him, but this feeling is usually not reciprocal, and he prefers to keep others at arm’s length emotionally.
Despite using his words to achieve his ends quite frequently, or perhaps because of it, he is often suspicious of the words and promises of others. He prefers to see proof or concrete action before he can be swayed, and will often err on the side of caution. His aforementioned distance from those around him can also make him paranoid of their true intentions, and he may neglect to acknowledge truth in their words when a more reasonable wolf might find that truth obvious.

Manipulative / Proud

Lanval has a habit of manipulating others to get what he wants, though this is not generally with malicious intent. He sincerely believes that he has clearer insight than those around him, and does not have any qualms about using deception if he needs to in order to get others to acknowledge or abide by his designs.
He is quite physically fit and has no issues fighting or taking on risks. While he is usually careful about how he throws around his strength in order to maintain his amicable reputation, he has a proud and haughty side that can be goaded into making bad decisions in this regard. So if he gets called out, he’ll probably throw down.

History
Birth and Parentage: Lanval was one of only two pups in a litter fraught by a difficult pregnancy. Only days after their birth, his frail sister breathed her last. As their mother wept, their father furrowed his brow in contemplation. Mother, father, son. The rule of three. He saw it as a good omen and said that the strongest had survived; their son would be special. Lanval’s mother was disgusted by her mate’s callous acceptance and hardened her heart against him. Though she would remain faithful to him for their son’s sake, their relationship soon turned cool and formal. As her son grew to be more and more like his father, she would often lament the daughter who never had the chance to thrive, comparing her son bitterly to the sibling whose life had been stolen.
Youth: A quiet upbringing was tinged by unrest as a she-wolf called Malaysia began to spread wild tales of magic through the pack. Lanval’s father was a vocal supporter of her ideals, and he often shared the myths and legends that she spoke of with his young son, which led to more bitter disagreements between mother and father. Lanval’s life soon fell into chaos with his father’s unexpected death, stunned by a hoofstrike to the head during a hunt and promptly gored by a large buck red deer. Some of the more superstitious wolves of the pack believed his death to be retribution, a strike from the island itself at one who attempted to go against the natural order. These whispers reached a young Lanval, who came to his mother in a rage- how could they tarnish his father’s memory with such hateful lies? A change came over her face, a look of malice that he had never seen in her before, and he realized that the wolf before him was a stranger. They’re right, she hissed, the years of repression finally taking their due. He deserved it. Hurt and confused, Lanval turned to flee, and his mother grabbed his tail in her teeth to pull him back in a knee-jerk reaction. The rough pull damaged something in his tail and gave it a subtle kink that it would never recover from. This confrontation opened a gulf between mother and son that neither wanted to bridge, and their relationship remained tense and aloof as he grew into adulthood.
Recent: Though infatuated by the prospects of power and the tenets of Malaysia’s followers since his father shared them with him in his youth, Lanval never showed them any public support, preferring to place his bets on superior numbers. When Svajone and his followers landed on the island he was conflicted, but held back from her call, and in the aftermath was glad that he did. To him, her massacre was the height of foolishness, and an abominable waste. It had taken time beyond memory for the humans to return, and now they were gone again in one senseless bloodbath when they should have been carefully cultivated, and put to greater use. Confident he had made the right decision, he assimilated into the heart of the Tundes. There was no depending on the competence of others; he would have to find his own road to power.
Contact Preference: GoogleDocs
Random Events: Opt in