The hustle and bustle of Tar Valon was cathartic in a way she couldn’t put into words, except to say that the multitude of life around her brought perspective to her own perceived problems. She liked the freedom of wandering outside the Tower, coupled with the assurance that she was not far from safety. The city might not have been as foreign and new and exciting as it had once been, but she still drew curiosity from its denizens and tourists, still found something to satisfy her interests each time she visited.

Today she spent some time wandering the open markets, politely declining the calls and charms of merchants. She had never had materialistic tendencies in relation to herself, but she did appreciate beauty; she liked to look, to explore, to contemplate, but not to own. These days she was careful not to let her curiosities land her in trouble; few sellers took kindly to a browser who appeared interested, even asked questions, but did not buy. A few times, in her early explorations of the city, she had bought items she had no need or desire for, because she had suddenly become aware that she had spent considerable time asking after curios she had no intention of purchasing. It was more beneficial to smooth feathers than ruffle them, and coin was no issue.

At first glance, one might not realise that the wanderer was Aes Sedai, though this was an unintentional deception. As with most aspects of her appearance, Malaika cared little for aesthetics. She did not dress extravagantly – her gown was neutral, unadorned and loose about her frame – but the workmanship and cloth was fine, as one would expect of one wore the ring. Aside from the natural softness of her features and luxuriant fall of black hair down her back, there was nothing to accentuate her femininity. There was no indication of a waist beneath the light beige fabric, and there was no embellishment at the bust. The neckline scooped, revealing her collarbone, but only because she disliked the constraint about her neck. No jewellery, no face paints. She cut a very plain figure, which was perhaps the only conspicuous thing about her.

As was often the case, at some juncture of the outing, Malaika found herself at Mistress Osilia’s teahouse. It was her habitual sanctuary outside of the Tower, a place she gravitated to for comfort as surely as her own rooms – though they, of course, were not as comforting as they had once been. Cosy as an Aes Sedai’s sitting room – if a touch less extravagant – it was ornamented with arrangements of stuffed chairs and low tables. Flowers adorned sidetables, and bowls of dried herbs infused the heat of the hearth with the scent of relaxation. The clink of china, the low buzz of conversation; the familiarity eased her worries and centred her back to herself.

The place was rarely empty – it was too popular for that – but it was more gentile than a tavern or inn, and more suited to Malaika’s tastes. Truly, though, it was the memories that had cemented her loyalty to the place. She had promised she would return after that first night, and had kept to her word and then some. Her visits were frequent – if punctuated with weeks, sometimes months, of absence, depending on her duties at the time. Mistress Osilia knew, by now, that Malaika was no high born noble, but an Aes Sedai. Still, their relationship maintained the amiable nature it had
begun with – and that was another aspect of the place that drew the young Aes Sedai. Mistress Osilia spoke to her like a person, not a title, and she was the only woman Malaika ever indulged in ‘chatting’ with, without feeling it a chore – even enjoying it.

More often than not Malaika dined alone, but Mistress Osilia did not seem to mind her taking up a whole table. As she had today, she often brought Tower work with her – the sorts of projects she indulged when more serious or private matters were proving frustrating or unattainable. Anywhere but Tar Valon, the sight of a lone woman surrounded by books and journals in a teahouse would have been odd. But here, in the city that cupped the shining walls of the White Tower itself, there were plenty of odder sights. Amidst the books were various plates of pastries (the beef stew she had consumed for lunch had long since been cleared away, before her books had appeared from her shoulder satchel), which she nibbled at from time to time. A pot of black tea sat on her left, the cup in its delicate saucer half-full, steam still gently roiling about its surface.

For the past hour or so, now, she had been consumed in a hand-sized novel spread out on her lap, head bowed, dark hair pushed over one shoulder. From time to time her fingers paused at her lips before she turned the page, eyes narrowed in contemplation. Her mind drifted to the stars in moods like this, a blessed release from the darkness that had consumed her thoughts this morning.

[[Byron's posts written by Number Two]]

Byron

Malaika

Byron

Malaika

Byron

Malaika

[[old thread, when Mal was newly raised; just adding so I can easily reference]]

 

The phone in his nightstand buzzed.  Hayden looked at his clock on his bed stand and groaned.  It was 3 am he'd only been in bed for half an hour.  Fucking bullshit!

He rolled over blurry-eyed and tugged the drawer open and found the secret phone at the bottom of the junk inside.  It always fell to the bottom no matter what he did.  Better that way but still annoying in the middle of the night, and it was the middle of the fucking night.

He didn't bother sitting up as he tabbed through security to get into the phone. 

  Cuz. Special mark coming your way. Handle with care. [dossier attached]   

Hayden sighed.  That couldn't wait till morning.  Arrival time was a few days away.  Hayden didn't bother looking at the attached information beyond arrival time.  He had plenty of time to get clean sheets and straighten up the space.  Not that anyone had stayed there in a while, most Atharim passing through were just that -- passing through and needed supplies.  On to bigger and better things.  Hayden didn't much care.  That this one was staying was special. But that his cousin several times removed had sent him a personal warning was unique.  Meant it mattered to her -- for whatever reason.

Hayden rolled over and closed his eyes.  Hopefully sleep came again otherwise he was going to be a fucking mess.

Target: Reggie Hill - London, England [dossier attached]

Quote:My friend, I need to ask another favor of you.  I'm going hunting for the Atharim. I don't know when I'll be back, but I will be back. I need you to take care of Lily for me.  The road is no place for a water plant.

I'm leaving my favorite hoodie in your care as well -- proof of concept, a promise you'd believe -- Barring death, I will be back for it -- last thing my mother gave me and all.

I want the best for you -- have a great life.

[[A small hesitation of a mark that could be accidental but was the start of the letter L]] Forever & Always, Nox

Wiki page: here

Origins: Born of Henri Marquis, brother to the founder of Zalya Fashion, and Kyra Mavros, a model and award winning fashion designer. With such beautiful parents it was inevitable Gideon would grow up to thrive in front of the camera. His formative years were spent in France, but he started modelling for Zalya Fashions as a child, and is currently the face of his mother’s high end clothes line. He’s well travelled and jets all across the Custody for both work and pleasure. It’s a lifestyle that suits him well, for he finds it difficult to sit still. And when Gideon has to sit still, it usually coincides with a (completely) coincidental amount of trouble.

These days he's a star in the world of high fashion, perfumery, and luxury beauty. As well as the darling of Zalya, he is a regular face for prestige brands such as Gucci, Luis Vuitton, Hermès, Dior and Chanel, both in campaigns and on the runway. He takes particular delight in avant garde couture, and does not shy away from controversy.

Most of his life is flashed in titillating glimpses across various social media platforms.

Several years ago he discovered he had a half-brother in London. After an impromptu trip he decided not to tell Hayden who he was.

Family: 

• Henri Marquis and Kyra Mavros (parents)
  
• Genevre Marquis and Ephraim Haart (aunt and uncle)
  
• Liam Haart Marquis (cousin)
  
• Hayden Sebastian (half-brother)
  

• 2nd Age: Ezra Rashka, historian
  
• 3rd Age: The Forsaken, Belshazzar, later reborn as Jadis Astarte
  
• 6th Age: Herald of the Greek Gods, Hermes
  

age: 27
current location: London, England
occupation: owns a bar in London, Atharim contract cleaner and spy, second son of Sebastian family

personality: Hayden is typically a charming, fun loving, sarcastic guy who is always trying to help people despite the fact that part of his job is to deceive and manipulate. Hayden is apathetic to much of his duties to the Atharim.

description: Hayden is 6'3" with broad shoulders and long legs.  He has piercing green eyes and a messy mop of blonde hair he keeps styled in that I just woke up look. He sports a 5'o clock shadow most days rarely shaving completely.  He likes to wear comfortable clothes but most of them a high dollar brand names. He cleans up real nice enough that his father is not embarrassed by him.

powers: He knows about the Atharim and their clandestine nature.  He doesn't know about monsters necessarily he is usually tasked with cleaning up messes and disposing of corpses and bodies.  He is routinely used to find traitors and sus out individuals who have a beef with an individual or the cause of the Atharim.

History

Parents: Gabriel and Amelia
Siblings: Ethan (40), Mia and Ivy (38)

Hayden is the second son and youngest of four children of Gabriel and Amelia. He is currently unattached and owns a bar in London that is also an Atharim safe house.

At the age of 8 Hayden found out he was not his parent's child. But the child of his older 'brother' who got a girl pregnant when he was only 13.  She was 19 and the scandal was covered up, the girl paid to keep quiet and Gabriel and Amelia quietly adopted Hayden.

Hayden's biological mother, Kyra Mavros, was sent to Milan, Italy on a modeling contract where she made a name for herself.  She is now currently designing her own line of fashion. Hayden has never looked for his biological mother.

With Ethan currently unmarried  and without any other children Hayden stands to inherit everything when Ethan passes.  This is an ongoing conflict with his sisters Mia and Ivy.

By the age of 13 Hayden was helping his father, Gabriel, when dealing with Atharim in their nearest safe houses.  Gabriel quickly realized that Hayden had a knack for getting people to talk to him, to understanding their motivations and their body language with little training.  Gabriel pushed Hayden into learning more about psychology, micro-expressions, empathy, and even more esoteric things like astrology and numerology, anything that would allow him to hone his ability to get information from a person willingly.

At age 16 Hayden was interrogating traitors for the Atharim trying to garner who they told and where they might be holed up. And shortly there after Hayden killed his first person. It was completely by accident, as he gave the traitor he was talking too much of the serum they were using to garner truth.  It was a hard lessoned learned, but Hayden took up learning alchemy and poison creation as a result of the accident.

Hayden was sent to University in London to hone the skills even further.

During his time in University as an undergrad his father asked him to clean up several messes left by Atharim.  Some of it was just talking to survivors and readjusting their stories.  Other parts were actual body clean ups.  Hayden didn't actually dispose of corpses, but he knew people who did thanks to his father's connections, they just needed a little bit of personal touch that Hayden provided.  In one case he had to finish a kill an Atharim flubbed on, Hayden choosing to make it look like an accident fashioned a slow acting poison from peanuts -- the mark was deathly allergic.  With one sip of a drink the man was dead within two hours.

After undergrad, at 21, Hayden rebelled against his father's wishes and choose a more unorthodox approach to what his father wanted.  He bought a bar and practiced his skills behind the counter tending to his patrons. He continued his education getting his Master's degree while working the bar full time.

Hayden's lives above his bar, Harbor House, on the third floor, the second floor after attempts to rent it out failed, was given to his father as an Atharim safe house -- the only condition Hayden had was there would be no weapons stash or other assets.  Purely a place to stay safe and hidden not to restock and refuel.  He didn't want people coming and going so frequently that he was constantly restocking the place.

Hayden is 2 years away from reaching his PhD in Psychology.