The Skeleton Prince

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
— Mary Elizabeth Frye

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Born the seventh son of a seventh son, in a very well-to-do magical family, the Prince wanted for nothing in his childhood years. He admitted that even very early on, he knew that his siblings resented his position as 'the favorite', but disregarded them at the time, preferring instead to read books and learn from the numerous tutors his parents provided him. Magicians of every kind and class came to teach him in the ways of arcana, and his parents were eager to find out which type he would excel at most... however, nearly every single one disappointed them. After numerous failures, a man in hooded, dark grey robes approached the family manor and suggested he attempt to tutor the boy in necromancy. Though the Prince's parents seemed dubious about such a dangerous school of magic, they figured they had no other choice but to try. The Prince would confess that his first taste of necromancy was the sweetest; he reanimated his favorite, and freshly expired, pet cat Harthford. Nothing was the same since.

(There'll be a nice lovely middle bit here.)

(And then hopefully I'll get around to the end bits. You never know, but here's hoping.)

Gender Identity

Cisgender male [he/him].

Sexuality

Homosexual homoromantic.

Social

Contacts & Relations

Dimitris Haldoun - frenemy
Archilus Dawnscourge - close friend

Social Aptitude

By all accounts, those who met the Prince in the city's early days knew him as enthusiastic but eccentric, with a sparkling wit and the ability to charm the pants off just about anybody (despite his oddities and quirks). Many found him to be a 'handsome and agreeable fellow', though there were complaints of his need to stand out from the crowd by any means necessary. He seemed just as likely to be cruel on any particular day as he was to be kind, and his moods could switch in an instant. His ire was tough to provoke, but could level mountains when it rose, and because of this, many endeavored to stay on his good side at all costs. In later years, though, he became more and more of a recluse. What had once been an endearing sense of mystery about him soon became isolation from the outside world, and even his closest companions began to fade away, accepting that the Prince was no longer the shining center of Las Calabazas as they'd known him.