Loid Forger is a resident of Echo Springs, and looks like Niclas Gillis. He is 32 and in town is a detective. Echo Springs doesn’t feel quite right, though - he recalls memories from Spy X Family, where he remembers the rush of an undercover operation to save the world resting on his shoulders; dodging bullets, always keeping secrets; and the silent parental love he never thought he'd feel for a little girl in his care, which fade when he wakes up – for now.
BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION
full name: unknown
alias: twilight, loid forger
age: thirty two
gender: cis man
pronouns: he/him
sexual orientation: asexual
romantic orientation: panromantic
occupation: intelligence agent currently; detective
living arrangements: a nice, classic brownstone
language(s) spoken: english, japanese, french
bio: link!
faceclaim: niclas gillis
SUMMARY
in the war between westalis and ostania, westalis has called in their best agent. their fiercest spy— twilight, to figure out the east’s plans. a master of disguise, a man with a thousand faces, it’s him who’s responsible for carrying out a mission that will maintain the treaty (and in result, the peace) between the two nations.
loid's past as an orphan as a result of war, feeling despair and isolation has seemingly stuck with him into his adult years. it’s become his motivation as a spy to create a world where children wouldn't have to ever experience loss of this degree.
his personality is very cold and efficient, aligning with his job, doing whatever it takes to complete the mission. calm and collected, there’s no chance you’ll crack this man on the job. willing to go as far as joining terrorist organizations for intel, dating a target’s daughter, or even becoming a father.
and... he does. operation strix. in order to get close to a target of importance, it has been necessary for him to disguise himself as a man with a family. this target, after all, was extremely cautious of men hiding in the shadows, and would only really show his face in large gatherings held at private schools. and thus, loid adopts a child. anya. temporarily, according to plan. just part of the cover.
as he gets close with the child... with anya... he grows fonder of the child, and the hardships of fatherhood. she wasn’t just important to the mission. she was important to him.
ECHO SPRINGS
loid forger has no idea why he walks the town of echo springs, feeling like he should watch his back. a paranoia follows him everywhere, traces his every step. he’s known the residents of echo springs for years, he knows he has nothing to hide, but secrecy and lying is a bad habit that feels as natural as breathing.
as far as he’s aware, he was orphaned after violent crime resulted in the murder of both his parents. scared and alone, loid forger was raised in the system. an honest child, honorable. always mature far beyond his age. he quickly progressed to the police academy after high school, where he graduated, top of his class. it wasn’t until he became a detective, that he moved, and was stationed in echo springs, where he has been for a few years, as far as he can remember.
SEND ME A NUMBER AND HELP ME DEVELOP MY CHARACTER!
He isn't sure something exactly frightens him. Of course, doing the work he does, he faces crime every day, one worse than the other, but it doesn't necessarily phase him on the regular. Something's changed, though. Since he's started getting the dreams, and nightmares, a certain paranoia has followed him. Not actively, though from day to day, an anxiety creeps through his thoughts. The fear someone, anyone, is going to find out. Is going to see right through him. They'll know.
He isn't sure what. Sure, he's always had an innate talent for undercover jobs, and the police force has made good use of this where necessary, but he's never taken it home, not like this. The thought chills him though, and often keeps him awake at night pondering what might be haunting the back of his mind. Could it be something leftover from the horrible trauma he suffered as a child? Should he be going to therapy for this? Whatever it is... No one can ever know.
She was the only person at the daycare who bothered to buy new books for the kids out of their own pocket, not to mention to do so frequently, but she just couldn’t help it, she didn’t have children of her own- yet- and having nowhere else to put her attention meant that all of it ended up being poured onto the kids at work
And could anyone blame her? They were so…. calm and peacefull during storytime, always staring up at her with those big curious eyes, like she was concocting the most incredible fable known to man- even if that “fable” was a Captain Underpants book
And really, it was the bookstore’s fault, the post-Mother’s Day sale had lured her in and she couldn’t be blamed for filling up her basket when they were all from the 30% Off table…
Unfortunately- or, fortunately, depending on how one looked at it- as she was veering off to the full-priced kids section, she turned a corner a little too sharply and bumped right into someone, causing her to drop her basket, books flying everywhere
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, trying to determine if the stranger had dropped anything due to her inattention
“Are you ok?”
He wasn’t sure what brought him here. Of course, he’d always been a man with an appreciation for literature. He could get lost in books for days, had a thirst for adventure and a more culturally rich life that books knew just how to quench. Yet here he was. Staring blankly at the kids’ section on his way out of the classic literature wing, as if there was something he’d forgotten.
He’d never had kids, never really made room in his life for relationships either. Didn’t think he’d ever even be the type of man who could enjoy that sort of domesticity. The sound of children crying was annoying more than anything, and he wasn’t sure he could ever bare to watch children’s tv. But an itch at the back of his skull had stopped him dead in his tracks.
Of course, he’d been standing here like an idiot with no kind of awareness of his surroundings, and he learned that quite quickly when a woman bumped straight into him, knocking the book he’d been holding directly out of his grip. The Riddle of the Sands, by Erskine Childers, landing directly on the hardwood floor. The regained his composure pretty quickly, straightened out his suit with practiced ease.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, it’s alright.” He smiled, his voice calm, collected— it carried a warm and friendly tone that would almost contrast the cold of his resting face from before the collision. “I... wasn’t paying attention.” A bit awkwardly, he went to pick the book he dropped, and a few he didn’t recognize. “I assume these were yours?”