Lysander
The Basics
Full Name: Lysander
Age: 25
Gender/Pronouns: genderfluid/she/he/they/themself
Ethnicity: SL
Birthplace: Tigreland
Current Location: Tigreland
Profession: Seneschal
Caste: Hearthwitch Priest
Birthright Jewel: Rose (CUT 79)
Offering Jewel: Purple Dusk (CUT 49)
Face Claim: Izzy Marshall
The Body
Height: 5'11
Body Type: Slim
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Appearance:Long and willowy, with a head of heavy hair and angular features, Lys looks more a cat of the trees than their litter-mates. Lean, narrow, but not sharp, they exude an air of quietude, and carry themselves with grace, although a second glance at their tail does make some wonder at what kind of hunter is lurking in Lys' dark eyes. Long enough to touch the ground and continue into a curl, short furred, brown hair tipped in black, it looks like the tail of a predator, a tree climber. The color matched only on their small ears, where the dark fur blends in with their hair so well it can sometimes be lost.
But a soft mouth and softer eyes push those thoughts away, because Lysander doesn't look like someone who could harm a fly, let alone hunt down and kill any kind of prey, so the tail must be a fluke. Dressing typically in arm-baring shirts and pants, its easy to ignore the scars that line their arms in favor of the webs. Purple and black, Rose and grey, struck through with reds and oranges, Lys' tattoo stripes run almost like bands from shoulder to elbow, encircling biceps in a spiral. Birthright hung under collarbones and across chest, Offering across their back, it's Priest-craft training that runs down the left arm, and heartwitch caste on the right.
The Mind
Craft Strengths: 12/15pts
Craft Weaknesses: Psychic Communication, Cushioning Spells
Personality:Either by caste or by birth, Lysander is generally a placid individual, content to follow and aid where it is necessary. Not a leader by any means, their genial disposition belies a snarky tongue and a crude mind, and Lysander is often the first in a conversation to make some kind of double entendre or naughty joke. Lys flirts like breathing, finds pleasure in bodies from above, below, and between, and is never offended when denied, likes the chase as much as the goal.
Cast a wide net. Easy to laugh, both at themself and with others, Lys is one who lets events unfold around them and have the chips fall where they may, and it takes a lot to affect them deeply. Not one for extreme sadness or wild pleasure, Lysander is most commonly content. With life, with their friends, their position.
The only time Lys' fur really gets ruffled is when someone is unnecessarily cruel, or when children are involved. Then it's claws out, teeth bared, an elbows and fists and Craft throwdown if that's what needs to happen. Scars from altercations -- both distant and not so distant -- run across arms and shoulders, claws dug deep into resistant flesh. They get plenty of reprimands regarding it when Renewal time comes around, but Lys maintains that they don't start those fights, but someone aught to finish them.
The Backstory
Family:The Seneschals
History:One of many, a circle flush with children following a good mating season. Easy to follow behind strong personalities, to be a face among many in the games of their youth. Lysander never felt particularly strongly about their caste, even when their name had been something else, only that it was important that someone not let all their young emotions run rampant over one another. Easy to be the calm one, the steady, sturdy, shoulder to cry on. Fists only raised when childish words turned into childish hurts, teeth bared and claws out in defense of anyone with wet eyes. Reprimanded strongly, then, bruises and scratches on their body but a friend protected. Not much the words of adults could do, with that sense of rightness in their chest.
Webs spun because of a temper quick to bloom and quick to fade, an ember smothered beneath a cup, waiting. But no, a steadier pin. Path already sliding between, to freedom without definition, but set in shade. Maybe an impermanence of position, maybe in mind. Quick and fluid and moving, sliding.
Birthright, and flush, Rose sweet. Better than their sisters at hearth Craft, a knack for it tucked in beside their Rose. Still sister, sometimes, but brother more and more, and neither most of all. Sisters guiding hands already moving Lys in the direction of Seneschal hands, and Priest Craft catches their attention more fully, calls out to a thread in them they didn't know had been neglected. Growing in fits and starts, faster than most of their age mates, it feels like no time at all before Lysander descends for a Virgin Night they weren't sure how to anticipate. Finding pleasure in it, finding a desire to know that pleasure in both directions, that pleases too. Easy to step back, knowing, and hold a hand out to a Seneschal that has been waiting for Lysander to declare for years.
Offering, Purple dusk warming their chest. And perhaps passing the place of their parents, a touch of yearning but happy, Lysander joins their siblings among the ranks of the Seneschals, falling into Priesthood as easy as calling to the Hearth.
The Writer
Player Name: Kayndred, Kay
Player Pronouns: she/hers
Timezone: PST
Contact: DMs, discord
Inactivity Instructions: Archive, adopt out, write out, lastly death
Roleplay Sample:See Michael Villiers
