D.O.B: Nov 15, 2016
Origin: San Antonio, Texas, USA
Current Location: Moscow
Occupation: Assassin for Hire
Reborn God: Itzpapalotl – Aztec
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Played By: Aria
Unlike her persona, Ayden is not a hot head, she is cool and calculated. She gets right to the point with little small talk between things. Ayden enjoys taking risks, the riskier the better the pay usually. She is highly observant. Her greatest downfall is family. While she doesn’t have anyone to care for, she doesn’t typically take a job that requires her to separate the mark from small children.
Ayden is 5’6″, 125lbs with an athletic build. Ayden has almost forgotten that she was born with blond hair and brown eyes. She tends to wear her hair in flaming red hair style, her hair almost looks like it’s made of fire itself. She tends to wear a specialty contact lens, not for vision problems but to make her iris also look like fire. But Ayden can be seen wearing any number of wigs, colored contact lens that she feels fit the current occasion she is out of her living quarters whatever they may be.
Life was never simple for the Lowe family. Peter Lowe and his loving wife were the typical Army family. They moved where they were told to go as Peter was station in different places. It wasn’t until they landed in San Antonio, Texas that things changed. Peter’s wife, Mary gave birth to their first and only daughter, they named her Anne. In his second year stationed at Fort Sam Houston, he was shipped of to Afghanistan for the on going war on terror. Peter never returned. Mary was left to raise her daughter alone.
But Mary and Anne were not alone for long, soon Mary met another military man, he was a big wig at the base and he was permanently based in San Antonio. Mary had found the perfect husband and father after her loving Peter had never returned.
Anne was born and breed to be Texan. Even at a young age her step father, Evan O’Shea, taught her how to shoot a gun, ride a horse, wrangle all sorts of animals. It was O’Shea’s dream to one day own a ranch.
Anne did well throughout school, excelled in math and science and had joined the ROTC as early as she could. She would follow in both her father’s footsteps. Anne’s ASVAB scores were excellent, and her time in boot camp lead her into sniper school. She was an excellent marksman, cool headed and very observant. And most importantly Anne preferred to work alone, or in small teams.
By the age of 19, Anne was well on her way to becoming an excellent and very sought after sniper. But as the fates would have it, she grew violently ill. Looking back now at the situation, it is obvious what had triggered the very first episode – a new gift had emerged.
Illusion, Fire and Healing
It had been a standard training exercise early on in her sniper training. Anne had been sent out on a mission. The details of which didn’t really matter, she was alone and it was her sole responsibility to take out her mark. There were no spotters in training.
The mission was simple, but the places to conceal yourself not so much. Anne hastily put together her spot and that was the first time that the gift had present itself. Anne’s cover was about to be blown. Her spot was almost uncovered but the strangest thing had happened, the world became more clear, sights more crisp, smell more vibrant,and they looked right through her – like she didn’t exist. There was no twitch of the eye, or a hesitation, she was not there, though she could clearly see them. At first thought she didn’t know what to think, perhaps her cover had been better than she’d thought, but Anne knew better.
Two weeks later Anne was violently ill. Her head pounded, she could not keep anything down and she missed several days of training because she couldn’t stand up. The mark on her record was always something Anne had hated. She truly disliked failure, in herself and in others.
The second episode was just as bizarre. Anne was out in the wood scouting out her next practice target. This time it was a hidden location she had to find in the woods. It grew late and she knew she wouldn’t make it and traveling at night was something she didn’t want to do, at least not until she knew her surroundings better, and that wasn’t going to likely happen in this time frame. Anne took to making a small camp fire as the night grew dark. A twig snapped and she jumped. The darkness became less dark, and in a moment there was a small fire burning in the pile she had just created but she had not lit the match or put flint to tinder yet.
And again, this time one week later, Anne grew sick. She tried to power through, but the vomiting and fever kept her in the infirmary for three days. A second mark on her record and Anne was nearly at the end of her training, she was disappointed in herself but everyone else seemed to understand.
The third and final bout of sickness was the trigger for Anne’s clarity. She understood all the bizarre things that had happened had been her. Anne found herself on a final mission. This time with live ammo. Everything leading up to the moment of clarity happened so fast. A friend in her unit had gone off his course and wandered into her area. Accidents happen, Anne had not expected anything live to be present in her area, so when she heard the cracking of a twig, she immediately shot, with out thinking twice.
Anne looked up from the scope and saw her friend fall with a piercing scream. Moment’s later Anne was at his side. He had been shot in the chest, it looked like she’d barely missed his heart, or he’d be dead, instead he was gasping for breath. Anne started to panic, fear started to set in. But the world grew vibrant and as Anne tried to stop the bleeding she saw the most bizarre thing happen. The wound started to heal of it’s own accord.
Anne looked around and saw nothing, but the world in such fine detail. By the time she looked down her friend was no longer gasping for air. He was lying on the ground as pale as a sheet but he was no longer wounded. He looked up at her groggily. Anne couldn’t help but smile but she was still greatly confused. Had she really done that? Had all those other strange things been her too. There was only one way to find out – test the theory.
And that’s exactly what she did. It was difficult at first. Anne got discouraged until she realized it only happened when she was afraid. It wasn’t the fear itself, but the anxiety failure caused her. Anne finished off her sniper training and was sent to be a lookout for a top notch sniper in the Army Rangers. During her free time Anne learned to control her anxiety of failure and in doing so, she learned to control her new gift. The task was difficult and Anne had learned a lot from her partner and about her gift, by the time she was given command of her own sniper team Anne could use her gift at will.
The First Shot
Anne’s first mission in the Army Rangers was not very eventful in and of itself it was the night following it that made the impact. Anne remembered vividly the action of the shot itself, she replayed it over and over in her dreams since she first took that shot. It is one of the most haunting dreams she has to this day.
Atop a roof in some third world nation Anne sat waiting for her target. It felt like forever before the mark showed up. Anne grasped the essence of her gift, the extension of her senses was perfect for this line of work. Anne lined up, the wind was perfect, the sun was not in her face, it was the perfect first mission. Anne squeezed the trigger ever so slightly and the bullet flew down and through her target like a hot knife through butter. With her sharpened senses, Anne could almost feel the bullet piercing the precious flesh of the mark’s body. It was a very profound moment for Anne, most people feel a tinge of regret, Anne did not she looked forward to the next one.
That night sleep came easily to Anne. Her dreams were restful and she stirred little. But the day’s activities started to seep into them. First the harmless dreams were tinged with the vibrant color from the eyes of her gift. The worlds morphed and changed into horrific scenes. The buildings turned to massive trees. Her mark turned to a woman wearing nothing but a loin clothe stood over an altar. A man reached in and ripped her heart from her chest and Anne could feel the glory and power from the sacrifice. It was glorious. The scenes flipped and filtered and moved around. A woman gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Anne knew that the sacrifice had been for the child and she could feel the praise and power emanating from them. She was their god…
Anne woke with a start, her heart leaped through her chest and her hands ached as is if she were the one to pull the still beating heart from the woman in her dream. Sleep did not come for the rest of the night.
Soon the dream was nothing more than memory, until the next mission. And the cycle would repeat itself. The sacrifices more gruesome than the next. The blood flowed longer and Anne remembered the dreams more clearly with each passing one.
Two years passed in the same cycle until the crash that should have taken her life. It was a typical mission in some third world nation. Her unit was sent to kill someone. Anne rarely asked questions. The chopper they were in was shot down. It went down like a fiery comment into the middle of some nowhere jungle. Fear took over and Anne survived only because of her gift. What happened she didn’t know, but she knew it was her gift that had saved her, she had saved herself, but she didn’t have any idea how.
Whatever god forsaken country they were was resistant to the US and the people that found Anne in the crash were not so nice. She endured days of torture that felt like months. Until one day they sat her in front of a black and white television and she watched as they proclaimed Anne Lowe among others dead. It was her mother and step father stepping up to protest. How things had changed since she had joined the military, a once very militant family was now very much against it.
A strange man flipped the switch off and turned to Anne. “You come work for us, and this will all stop.”
Anne looked at him suspiciously. And he continued, “You are dead to your government, we made sure of that.” He dropped a plain manila folder on her lap, the contents facing up. “Kill this man, and you can be set free.” He laughed, “But you will work for us.”
Anne was definite, “Why should I work for you?”
He smiled at her with great pleasure as he spoke, “I’ll kill your precious little family.”
It wasn’t so much a weak point but the glances of the mark had made Anne want to kill him. He was a horrid man, but it really didn’t matter, what she did.
“Fine.” She said with disgust, but only because she wanted free of this hell hole, one problem at a time.
He nodded and a second folder fell in her lap. This one with password and all legal documentation she needed to live a different life as Chastity White. Chastity completed the missions this foreign government sent at her. Some were righteous kills, others not so much. But the pay was decent and her family was safe. And she still got to do what she loved despite the dreams that affected her each mark she took out.
The last mission she did as Chastity White ended with Chastity dying in another ball of fire. It was not her typical mission. It was meant to look like an accident. Hard to shoot someone in the head and make it look like an accident. Even suicide was out of the picture on this one. But the pay was great.
Chastity had done her research, the mark was a frequent call girl requester. She posed as his next girl, and got in with out much question, apparently he was mean and the girls didn’t like him. So when Chastity had canceled his appointment posing as his wife, she took the role up with ease. Chastity brought her own special brand of wine which he gratefully took. The poison inside should have made it look like a heart attack. But before the poison could do it’s job, the man had tried to tie Chastity up, he pulled a knife on her and there was little to do but defend herself. Chastity cut the man’s throat with easy. But it was no longer an accident.
Quick on her feet Chastity lit several candles and carefully arranged the body on the bed. Then she tipped the candle over. Oops. Chastity embraced her gift and enraged the flame. Soon it engulfed the curtain, then the room and then the floor and ceiling. Everything succumbed to the power of the flame. When the flame reached the body, Chastity raised her arms and the flames grew hotter and higher. The power was immense. She left unscathed.
Rumor abound about the fire, supposedly a woman walked out of the fire unharmed, but no one could find her. No one knew she had been there. Some started calling the mystery girl the Phoenix. And fire was soon becoming the former Chastity White’s best friend.
Her employers thought she was dead despite no body being found, Chastity was happy to be rid of them, and started her own career. Her name became Ayden Hayes. Both names carefully researched and both meaning fire in some form or another.
Ayden took the Phoenix nick name seriously and chose her look based upon the myths and legends of the fire bird. Her hair dyed in flaming colors, contacts made to look like flames. Ayden was not an arsonist, she didn’t enjoy setting fires, but fire had become almost better than shooting some poor mark in the head.
Ayden took jobs where ever she could find them. The issue didn’t matter, money was money. It was all about the money and Phoenix was good at her job, the world would pay good money.