Azlan was born fighting.

Fathered by a Russian mercenary and born to a young, Indian girl on the floor of a Delhi prison, Azlan was thought dead at birth.  A guard in the prison lifted the quiet and still body of the baby boy to remove it; but part way down the corridor, the baby drew in a breath and gave a strong, loud cry.  The guard nearly dopped him when he wriggled to life.  Still under orders to dispose of the child, the guard (a father himself) couldn't bring himself to destroy the baby having just seen it come back to life.  He whispered a name over the child- a name meaning "lion."  Under the cover of darkness, the guard carried the child away from the prison to an orphanage just over the boarder into Nepal  

The earliest memory Azlan could ever recall was the day a little girl arrived at the orphanage.  He was seven years old, and she barely four.  Even so young, the child was sublime.  She had long, dark hair and piercing, almond-shaped eyes the color of ice on the sea.  The small orphanage only had one room for the children to sleep in, and the little girl was given a mat nearest the window.  From his own, thinly-stuffed mat of hay, Azlan could see her.  From the day she arrived, she never spoke a word, and the other children began to whisper.  Perhaps she was dumb, or bewitched.  One evening, after the meal of cabbage broth and dry bread had been given to them, one of the older children reached over and took the little girl's bread from her hand, greedily stuffing it into his mouth.  He hadn't the time to chew it before Azlan launched himself over the bench, tackingling the older boy with a hard punch to the face.  From that day, forward, no one laid a hand on the girl- and Azlan never left her side.  It was to him that she finally spoke her first words, whispering her name to him- Natasha. 

Some years later, when Azlan was 13 and Natasha 10, a man came to the orphanage to take any boys old enough to fight and join the scant, failing army fighting the Chinese empire.  Azlan- by far the strongest- was an obvious choice to take.  The man told him to pack his things and be prepared to leave at dawn the next day. Natasha had been working in the garden, and did not hear what was going to happen.  In the night, Azlan came to her mat and woke her.  He explained that he was going to run before they made him fight in the army.  Instantly, Natasha stood up from her bed and took her shawl over her shoulders.  Azlan looked at her momentarily, about to tell her to stay, but her eyes gave that her mind was made up.  They stole away that night and headed north.  It was springtime, but the nights were still cold, and grew colder the further north they traveled.  Both became skilled in thievery and begging, often playing the role of brother and sister to evoke sympathy from the people of whatever villiage they traveled to.

Finally, months after leaving the orphanage and now fighting the dead of winter, Azlan and Natasha found themselves trecking between the mountains of Tibet.  Half-starved and freezing, they stopped to beg for shelter at a temple in the Yarlung Valley.  The monks of the monastary took them in immediately- and there Azlan and Natasha would remain for nearly a decade more.  In that time, both of them were trained in many disciplines- both academic and physical.  They were taught to read, write, and speak Chinese and English.  The monks began training Azlan in the art of Lama Pai- the ancient White Crane fighting style, as well as Boabom. He would teach Natasha everything he learned, and eventually the reluctant Master allowed her to join him in training.  

In 1931, facing a dangerous invasion by the Japanese aided by the Russians, the monks sent Azlan and Natasha to the United States.  Aged to 27 and 24 years, Azlan and Natasha found themselves on the streets of Detroit, Michigan.  Both were strangers in a very strange land.  Industry had put America far beyond the advancements of their home in Tibet.  Their education was sufficient to survive, but neither were trained for any trade.  They were, effectively, assassins- and a deadly pair.  Azlan stood six feet and nine inches tall, with a lean but perfectly solid frame. He kept his hair long and pulled back, and there were a few ancient Tibetan symbols and verses inked onto his skin.  Natasha had grown into a stunning young woman- strong and agile, though not especially tall.  Her dark hair usually stayed tied back as well, and she too had a few distinctive tattoos.  Though no longer the weak and frightened young girl Azlan had taken to his side, Natasha was never seen without him.  For years since they left the orphnage, Azlan and Natasha had bound themselves together.  So many nights they huddled together, protecting each other, and whispering to eachother in the darkness, swearing themselves to one another for as long as they had breath.  Their lives intertwined so deeply- it transcended family; transcended love.  The two were truly one soul, and their bodies were extensions of each other.  In this way they lived, fought, and survived- until the day Azlan was approached by a man in a finely tailored suit- who ran an empire of his own in the underground world of Detroit.

Azlan was strong willed, and defiant, which sometimes happens when someone is confident in their abilities. He feared no man or woman, and with natasha at His side, felt damn near invincible. She was His center, and she kept Him balanced, usually having to resort to diplomacy to referee any relations with Azlan. Her soft voice would calm Him, and she would smooth over any defensive reactions anyone took His forceful, Dominant nature.

Gubermon had at once seen potential in them, even though they were merely picking pockets, or scamming, every one was flawless. Their Brother and sister "act" was perfect, and finally, with natasha using her excellent diplomatic skills, and Gubermon introducing them to KrookedC, they were brought on board with Lost - Czylharz Division as associates.

...was Detroit ready for the Warrior Hearts?

...only time would tell, and their adventures start here....

Raised voices could be heard coming from inside KrookedC's office since Azlan and natasha entered, as the men guarding the door exchanged troubled glances, straining to hear what was being said inside. Azlan's deep voice could be heard clearly, practically reverbing off the walls.

"You're the boss. I accept that, but fucking kids could do this shit you have us doing!"

The door opened slightly, and one of the guards peeked in to see natasha leaning against KC's desk, while Azlan paced the room, a fire in His eyes.

"Everything ok in here Boss?"

KC raised his hand, a simple gesture for them to continue guarding the door, and the door was quickly closed again. Azlan's eyes flashed as He looked back toward KC, but then softened slightly as He saw natasha, looking deep into His eyes.

"Qǐng gāoshǒu..."

In a calm, even tone, natasha first speaks to Azlan, her eyes saying more than her words.  She then turns to their leader and gives him a gentle smile and nod.

"Sir, please understand, we are still very new in this culture.  While we felt that an organization such as this would best suit our...talents...we perhaps were not prepared for the waiting.  Where we come from, our skills are widely known as deadly and a force to be feared."

She glances back at Azlan, who is now seated and looking over steepled fingers.  natasha goes to his side and kneels, settling back on her heels and continues.

"We are very grateful for the work within this family, and we will of course continue to do such.  Perhaps, though, a demonstration would be in order.  We would be honored if you would come to our home and allow us to show you the deadly but beautiful art of Lama Pai.  I'm sure that you will find the practices most intriguing, and useful."

Krooked has a headache brewing. After a long night of working details of various things these two new bloods had came into his office and wanted to talk on some things. Krooked saw potential in these two from the start but he keep them like he himself and countless others before them had done. at the bottom. Hoping to train them  into this new lifestyle was hard but not without reward. Every "little" job he or one of his trusted hands gave them, they pulled off without issue. On a rare spot where things took a turn for the worse in these "jobs" they were quick on their feet and handled it better then was expected and all was well. Money was being made, jobs were getting finished and now they were looking for more.

Krooked sighs as he lloks at Azlan and Natasha. Getting up to pour a drink and clear his thoughts he clears his throat.

Ok look. You both came her and have excelled so far. I wish to not hold you back but things come at a certain time. I am rather pleased with both of you but there is a time and a reason I do things this way. I know there may be some more delicate things you both can handle bith its hard forme to send 2 people such as yourself into certain spots.

Krooked looks at Azlan and Natahsa and see they are interested but some doubt and disbeilef. Finishing his drink and pours another, Ktooked takes a seat behind his desk and turns to them both.

Alright, after a little thought and drink to clear my head, you mentioned this art of Lama Pai. I know you both are not from around here and maybe as you have suggested some learning of this art will help me understand the things you both can do. I'm always about ways to helps this city out, so I think I will take you up on that offer. For one , it will help me understand you both a bit better. And for two, my bodygaurds are nervouse when they hear us argueing in here and i don't need nervous triggermen at my door.

Krooked leans back in his chair and takes a long swig from his brandy. Setting the glass down, Krooked lits a cig and looks over to Azlan and Natasha.