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Please do not post if you are not us. Though feel free to read along. Spy x Heir |
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I hope this Is good! I can add and change stuff if you want me to! . . ☆Personal Info☆
Name: Harlow Qaylen Minroe
Age: 20 (Can change)
Sex: Male Role: Spy and occasional assassin (for lore purposes).
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Appearance: Harlow is a rather slim, borderline underweight man with polite and delicate features. He has pale clear skin that compliments his long sandy blonde unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. He usually wears baggy clothing for maximum mobility, a result of him enjoying the freedom to move around with very little to no restrictions just in case he gets himself in a tight spot where a tactical escape is necessary.
. Voice: Harlow's voice is deep, smooth and velvety, offering a colorful undertone, allowing him to properly fool those who he talks to with false feelings, although, when overstimulated, his emotions gets the better if him, causing his voice to get quite shaky. .
Personality: Harlow is a rather dainty soul, preferring a soft kind of companionship. He's equivalent to a Golden Retriever, polite, always happy, and nearly lovable. Well, that was before he became a spy. The job is rather brutal, causing him to become the same over time. For the most part, Harlow is quiet and observant, two of the key traits he needs to ensure his mission is completed, although, he has a streak with getting what he wants and needs by bribing, threatening, flirting or simply talking.
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Hates: Killing as he describes it as 'something he wouldn't do' because he's technically forced to do the actions and being alone is a fear that has a constrictive grasp on the man. (Fear will be elaborated on later, and more are to be added.)
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Likes: Reading interesting books with a large amount of details, quiet areas with very little to no people since he gets overwhelmed and nervous, company in the form of a very small group of literally 2-4 other people, being in control of certain situations. (More to be added)
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Family: Geni (Older brother) and Iris (Younger sister)
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Relationship status: Single (for now)
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Possible Relationship patterns (Could change as time passes) : When it comes to relationships he's known for being overly sensitive since he usually has only a short amount of time with them, causing him to become annoying, slightly distant and very eager to please.
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☆Info☆
Nickname: N/A
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Fighting: Preferably Long distance, but he has more experience with close combat.
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Weapons: Bow and Arrows and daggers.
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Personal Training: He self taught himself how to get rid of a laced drink.. of course, by dumping it or switching someone else's drink.
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☆History☆
Personal History with family: Middle ground. He and his family were close and rather friendly, but as time went on and Harlow made more mistakes his family members began coming up missing or suddenly fell violently ill. It started with his grandparents, then his father, aunt, two of his uncles, a second cousin, and finally his mother. After his mother's death he knew it wasn't just coincidence and straightened his act. The only family he has left (that he knows of) is his older brother, Geni and his younger sister, Iris.
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Personal History with relationships/friendships: Bad. Most to any form of communication is simply for the king's ears, so as a result of his occupation and his role, he is forced to kill or watch those who he was close to be killed by the 'fault' of his own actions of getting close. |
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Name: Prince Dorian Alaric of Eryndral Age: 25 Role: Crown Prince, first in line to the throne Appearance: Broad-shouldered but lean, standing tall with the posture of someone raised under constant scrutiny. His dark auburn hair is kept at a respectable length but often tousled when he’s not under the public eye. His eyes are a striking steel-blue, a trait said to mark the bloodline of Eryndral’s kings. Often dressed in ceremonial finery during court events, but in private prefers understated, practical clothes. Personality: -
Public face: poised, commanding, and diplomatic, always careful with his words. -
Private self: restless, sarcastic at times, with a wry humor that slips out around those he trusts. -
Idealistic at heart—he wants to be a just and compassionate ruler—but disillusioned by the corruption and politics of court. -
Feels the weight of duty press heavily, but quietly longs for freedom outside the palace walls. Background:
Dorian grew up under strict royal tutors and endless ceremony. Groomed from birth to succeed, he mastered diplomacy, history, and combat, though often chafed against the rigid expectations. His late elder sister once shielded him from the brunt of pressure, but her passing left him as sole heir, deepening the scrutiny on him. His people view him with hope, but members of the court whisper that he’s too “soft-hearted” to rule. Strengths: -
Strong sense of justice and empathy; inspires loyalty in common folk. -
Skilled swordsman and tactician, though he prefers negotiation over bloodshed. -
Quick thinker under pressure. Weaknesses: -
Naïve at times about the darker schemes of politics. -
Torn between duty and personal desires, which makes him indecisive. -
His compassion can be exploited by rivals. |
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The great hall glittered with gold and candlelight, every polished surface reflecting the wealth and splendor of the crown. Nobles whispered along the walls, their jeweled hands covering sharp tongues as the crown prince entered. Dorian’s steel-blue eyes swept over them all, his posture flawless, his every step measured—just as he had been trained since childhood. But behind the careful mask, his thoughts churned. Another council session, another parade of lords squabbling over taxes and trade, while whispers of unrest in the outer provinces grew louder. His father’s health waned, his mother pressed for alliances through marriage, and the people looked to him as though he already wore the crown. Dorian ascended the dais, pausing at the throne beside his father’s empty seat. He did not sit. Instead, he let his gaze fall over the assembly. “If you would waste another evening with arguments over who gains the fattest purse,” his voice rang out, cool but steady, “then perhaps you should remember whose coffers you bleed dry. The people are not pawns for you to barter with.” A tense silence followed, broken only by the flicker of the torches. Dorian’s jaw tightened, though his lips curved faintly into something that could almost be called a challenge. “Now—who among you wishes to speak with honesty, and not greed?” |
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Moderate Temperatures and Overcast
