AZIZI, Iskander Rafel

Height: 6'
Weight: 169 lbs
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black
Build: Average
Scars: None
Piercings/Tattoos: None

Personal Style: Iskander's style is simple and not really noteworthy. He doesn't wear brand clothing, sometimes his jeans have patches, but mostly he's presentable. Typically, he wears a pair of jeans or cargo pants - shorts if the weather is warm - and a simple, solid colored T-shirt. Sometimes a plaid jacket to go along with that, and running shoes.

Oddly enough, it is in his shoes where he shows some originality. He's quite fond of buying white running shoes and drawing all over them, and decorating them as he sees fit. It doesn't make him seem that flashy and Iskander just finds it fun to do. If he has to get dressed it's a white or striped dress shirt and black pants, he rarely adds a jacket or tie to the mix.

Appearance: Tall and not-so-often-smiling, Iskander has that way of looking quite aloof, thoughtful and cold. He isn't really, but he tends to look quite foreboding by accident. His clothes help him blend, but his posture and way of striding around make him more visible to people. He carries himself confidently, almost as though he owns whatever place he is in. While tall, he isn't overly muscular or strong, just typical for a guy his size. His hands are the only exception to the overall typical dude; they're more refined and feminine than the rest of his body, a clear inheritance form his mother.

His skin is an olive color, courtesy of his mothers background, which on occasion makes him stick out - in airports, at any rate. His black hair is straight, and when he's feel up to it - which is most mornings - he spikes it up a little. Otherwise, it's cut short in a school boyish fashion, combed neatly and out of the way. Simple and easy, but neat and confident; that sums up his style and his appearance.

Likes: playing chess, reading, cats, intelligent girls, children's shows & cartoons, politics, the arts, studies of religions, people willing to compromise, sugar (when he gets his hands on it....), performers of most kinds, playfighting, philosophy, drawing, and video games.
Dislikes: Uncultured people, people with no interest in academics or religion, bigots, pigs (the animal!), crime shows, reality tv, the waste of money or food, animal cruelty, people who attack those who are weaker, doormats, and extremists, particularly Muslim ones.
Dreams: To change the current state of his homeland
Fears: His mother being deported, his father finding him and his mother, and failing school, despite being in no danger of that.
Habits/Hobbies: Drawing, swimming, gardening, working, or studying something or other.
Secret(s): The whole father fiasco; he just says his dad is dead.

Personality: While Iskander looks more than aloof, - and doesn't like to pry into the lives of people he doesn't know - he is quite friendly and agreeable past that. He is always willing to make a friend or lend a hand to those people he deems to be competent or just in need from factors out of their control. He doesn't really get emotional, and unlike his past life, he isn't overly religious. In his eyes, Islam is just not what it used to be, and neither is his homeland; two factors he wants to change, and will draw on everything he knows his his past to do it.

While he may not go for sports so much as arts and academia, he is pretty well rounded. He's never played for a team, nor been part of academic groups, but his grades are fine, and he loves to watch plays much more then movies. He's very much as he was in his past life in terms of arts, academics and honor, but not so much religion. He was born into a non-practicing Muslim, and after seeing what is going on in the world, even he has his doubts. He may have caused a Jihad, and beaten back crusaders time and time again, he didn't kill his own people. He didn't kill prisoners of war for no reason. He didn't impose rules against things like flying kites or watching soccer. In short, his version of Jihad was not at all similar to what was going on now. He was not the Taliban, and besides, he did eventually work out a truce with the Christians! After two failed attempts, but by no means did he blow up his own people, and he did not hide in mountains! This change in the landscape between his lives is what caused this lack of faith, though he will pray on occasion. His interest in religions, however, has gone up. He has read about many world religions and how they work, and how they have evolved. If a person doesn't show interest in either academics or religion, he tends to consider them a lost cause in the mental facilities.

Iskander is very much an abide of a code of chivalry. He does not, however much he may want to, pick fights with those he deems well below his station unless they persist. He is willing to compromise, and sometimes even help a noble adversary, but if the other side refuses, he will carry out a fight quickly and to the point. There is no added brutality when he attacks someone, verbally or otherwise, unless they do so, at which point he will only mirror them. He is polite and considers his morals to be high. A noble man? Perhaps, but everyone has a temper. When he loses it, he storms about shouting and screaming at everyone who tries to speak sense into him. When he's lost control, there isn't much of the original Iskander left. He breaks things, he stomps, he runs out on his own and stays out for a long time, then he mopes on how stupid he was. It's a long process, and he tries his best to avoid getting mad.

But, like any guy, he also can be beyond silly. He does act from time to time, and when he gets his hands on sugar, he's almost unstoppably silly. People just need to take a break. He'll play on a playground, make snow angels, play video games and watch cartoons, like any goofball his age (or sometimes younger). It can give the impression of a dual personality, but really, those who knows Iskander know his to be a fun-loving noble guy, and those who do not know him well don't see his silly side anyways.

Mother: Sarala Azizi, 43, hairdresser
Father: Thomas, Sureson, 50, unknown
Siblings: None.
Other: Nope.
Pets: The family dog Marshmallow; who doubles as a guard dog for the family. She's about 4 years old.
Hometown: New York, New York

History: Before Iskander was even born, his history starts. His mother, an Iranian that didn't take orders from anyone - let alone family - left the country with a suitcase and twenty-five dollars. That was it. She came despite her brother's orders, despite everyone's orders, and broke ties. She came to New York, and after some luck against odds, landed two jobs. A waitress by day, and waitress by night. It was on one night shift that Sarala ran into Thomas. The two stuck off at first, but after a couple months, well, Thomas got violent, angry and unpleasant all-around. Six months into this, and Sarala found herself pregnant. As soon as Thomas got wind of this, he was out the door, and never seen again. Well, so Iskander's mother hoped.

Iskander was born in a small hospital in Brooklyn, named for...he has no idea. He doesn't know where his name is from, and his mother won't discuss it. Iskander just figures she liked it. Despite being completely unplanned and unwanted at first, he was kept. There was just something about this boy and his big brown eyes; a boy that didn't at all resemble his caucasian father. It was as though something else was at work with him. Sarala had never been spiritual, and in America she pretty well rejected Islam, so it was a strange turn for her.

He grew up in a lower-class area of Brooklyn, but the young boy wasn't the sort who hit the terrible two's. He was quiet and a mediator in pre school, not a fight-starter. He seemed wise, and was quick to pick up new skills. Even though he was young, he was drawing heavily on who he was in a past life. Saladin was now living in New York City, the son of a single mother; it was quite a far cry from his past. As a younger child, he didn't know what all the memories of war and prayer and people were, really. He assumed it was a story his mother had told him, and one day, before his bedtime, asked if she'd say it again.

"Will you tell me the story of the man who sent all the crusaders away from our home?" He had asked. Sarala had never told such a story. She, in fact, has taught him very little of her culture. Yes, she taught him Arabic - but not much - and yes, she taught him how to pray, but nothing else. "You know," The five year-old added on, "The one who prays the Qur'an." Sarala asked what the name of this man was, and without hesitation, Iskander told her. "Saladin! That man! It was a good story." Sarala was perplexed, but decided to dismiss it, saying what little of the sultan she knew. He might have heard the story from some older kids at school, or maybe on the history channel, even though he never watched the history channel...The history channel was nothing compared to the real thing; of course, no one knew at the time. Iskander was too young to understand what had happened to his soul, that he was Saladin.

He began to wonder about the memories more and more as he grew up, and as he proved to be wise beyond his years, and knew more of prayer than his mother has taught him, he began to wonder if these memories, in some way, weren't a story he'd grown to love, but the memories of a real person. Some of the memories of the story were so vivid, and some never would be told to children due to brutality...so why did he know all this?

Then, a certain day happened. A certain day in September, in 2001. Iskander was nine when the twin towers went down. He was nine when all of a sudden, people looked at him and his Iranian mother strangely. Suddenly, his friends parent's weren't all so friendly to him. Suddenly, New York had changed. Suddenly, being even slightly affiliated with Islam in new York City was not a good thing. Suddenly, Saladin found out that his world had changed for the worse. That it was a damn good thing his mother had gotten out of Iran when she had. In the Middle Ages, the Middle East had prospered while the West was in the dark. Now, it was the other way around. Messily so. He spoke about it to his friends, but they didn't get the politics. He enthralled some of his teachers, one even had him speak to the sixth-grade class, but no one knew exactly where Iskander's wisdom had came from.

And he didn't either. But what did happen, shortly after the attacks, was his mother got a threatening note. Then five. She took them to the police, but she already knew ho they were from. After all, they did several times state he'd "kill his son", meaning it was Thomas. Iskander and his mother were scare,d but not a lot of people followed through, and the police were assuring them they'd keep her and her son safe.

Well, it didn't work out that way. Thomas broke in one night, over supper. They were having turkey that night, and he broke down the door. He stormed in with a knife and made for Sarala first. This, as it turned out, was a mistake. Shouting in Arabic, an enraged ten-year-old grabbed the knife that had been used to cut the turkey; a monster that rival's Thomas', and attacked, proving himself much more skillful with the thing. It wasn't a scimitar, but it was close enough for Iskander to make a bloody mess. Thomas lived, slashed up though he was, and stabbed though she was, Sarala lived. Iskander, calm once more, called the ambulance and police. His actions with the knife complicated the court procedure, and where he'd learned to do that with a knife was any one's guess, but Sarala had had it with New York, state and city. Once everything was sorted out, she and her son moved to a small town called Riverdale, where Sarala's night classes would pay off. She had a job as a hairdresser, and hopefully away from Thomas...when he got out of jail.

It was on the drive to Riverdale that Iskander asked his mother is it was possible to be another person but the same one. She didn't understand, and he asked her what she would say if someone thought that maybe, just maybe, they thought they were more than one person. She promptly asked him if he needed counselling, and he said no. That was when he realized the outside world was going to be of no help, he'd have to figure it out on his own.

In the summer between fourth and fifth grade, Iskander explored his new home. They bought a guard dog, a great dane, by the name of Weatherby, and Iskander got a bike. Life went on. One day, he dared himself to go into the cathedral. He knew a lot about Christianity from his life before, but he didn't know how they'd receive him now. He poked his head in and wandered around until someone asked him what he was doing, and then he booked it out of there. His curiosity of religion grew, and he read about many religions.

Including Buddhism - and the concept of reincarnation.
Reincarnation.
That was it.
Reincarnation. That man from the story wasn't the man from the story exactly. He was a man that stories and stories had been written about; but he was the same person. He was Saladin, and that he knew. He could drawn on his memories of how to use a scimitar to slice Thomas. He cold draw on his memories of the Qur'an to pray, he could draw on his memories to beat many people in chess; hell, he could become a General all over again if he wanted! But he also knew that this was to be kept secret. It was one of those gifts that a person had to hide.

And hide it he did. He grew up in Riverdale, but told no one. And when it came to go to high school, Riverdale High was picked out. It was the same year Weatherby died and they got Marshmallow, which is how he remembers. His mother wanted him to have a good education, and he promised his grades would stay good, so they worked up the extra to get him in. He was glad of not only the school's quality, as opposed to the other option, but of RSOR. He was recruited in quickly, and just liked to know he wasn't the only one with his gift. In the summer he took on odd jobs to help save for college and school, and life has been good. He isn't sure what he'll do when he leaves school, but life is promising.

Just so long as dad doesn't catch up to them - he got let out of jail four years ago...