Zia Ghazali is a non-mutant who has been in new york for 1 week where they spend most of their time as a Bodyguard. when i think of them, i think of open fields, tire swings, and scrapped knees. they are in support of mutants.
BASICS
Name: Zia Ghazali
Nickname(s): Z
DOB: October 17th, 1969
Age: 28
Zodiac Sign: Libra
Sexuality: Pansexual
Traits: ( + ) Patient, Kind, Bubbly, Steadfast, Determined, Motivated ( - ) Immovable, Bossy, Quick-tempered, Worrisome
Occupation: Bodyguard
Family: Isik Ghazali (Father) — Living, Ana Ansari (Mother) — Living, Haris Ghazali (Older Brother) — Deceased
APPEARANCE
Height: 5′8
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Ethnicity: Pakistani
Nationality: American
Aesthetic: Cowboy boots and black leather pants, sunglasses, maroon, acoustic guitars and the smell of smoke.
Tattoos: A peach on her left tricep
Piercings: Double Lobes, Nose stud on right side
BACKGROUND
Zia is a tried and true Georgia Peach. Born and raised in Dublin, Georgia which lives smack dab between Macon and Savannah, she grew up on enough land that she could get lost in her own backyard. She had been mucking stalls and doing yard work since she was tall enough to hold a rake, and had callouses on the bottom of her feet from running around barefoot so often. Her family was picturesque: Father, Mother, and Older Brother who all got on as well as family could, and were well respected members of the community.
Zia will be the first to tell you, though, that she learned everything she knows in life from her Older Brother. He was six years older than her, and a God among men as far as Zia was concerned. She aimed to emulate his every move, and learn everything she could from him so she could grow up to be just like him too. And, for the most part, it was for her own betterment that she mimicked him so closely. He was an upstanding citizen with good grades, friends, and a strong work ethic. There were was not a bad word to be uttered about Haris.
He took his little shadow in stride, too, teaching her everything he could about life. Why everything deserves respect, why it’s important to be a good person and a hard work, and why it was important to be strong. He made sure she knew how to stand up for herself, helped her study, and even went as far as to teach her about how to be there for the people who needed it most. For the people who couldn’t stand up for themselves— whether it be because the threat was far beyond their scope or simply not having a ‘Haris’ to teach them how. She was ten when she learned about mutants for the first time.
Haris was a part of Activists clubs at school. He was wildly in support of the mutant cause regardless of how small it seemed to the rest of the world at the time. His girlfriend in his last years of High School was a mutant. He passed all he had learned from them down to Zia, and Zia held on to every word he said as she always did with Haris.
Her parents didn’t seem to notice her new found morals in support of the Mutant cause until she was thirteen, and the Presidential Address broadcasted. Where her parents saw great strides in the way of humanity, Zia could only feel this odd festering in her soul. ‘He didn’t even do anything’. She had exclaimed, much to the surprise of her parents. And, off she went on a rant about how ‘words would never be enough’ and ‘meaningful action’ was the only way to pave the path to change.
Of course, all eyes turned to Haris, who’s ‘radical behavior’ as some might have called it was not so well hidden as Zia’s. Her parents ripped in to Haris about his influence over Zia, and what kind of ideas he was putting into her head. They wanted Zia to be a happy little girl, not a radicalized activist with a nose piercing and fishnets. It was the only time she truly witness her family fight, and she just couldn’t understand why. Her parents had always told her that doing the right thing was important. But, it seemed to her, they meant doing the nice thing. Because, if she had learned anything from Haris, it was that the right thing wasn’t always easy or nice.
Haris moved out soon after that fight. He said it was time. He was twenty now, and needed to see the world and really start his life. He had gotten a job working on a campaign as security guard of some sort, and promised that he would send back letters and call whenever he could. He was going to see even more of the world, and bring it back to her, so she shouldn’t be sad.
And Zia tried not to be. She threw herself into the Activist Club, taking over where her Brother had left off. She worked hard for change on the level of her school, taking action on the President’s empty words if he wouldn’t do it himself. It was her senior year when word was sent home that her Brother had been killed on the job. Some unidentified attack that they couldn’t give out details on. It sent Zia into a tailspin. Not the ‘drugs’ and ‘alcohol’ kind of tailspin, but the kind where she hardly slept or ate, focusing almost all her efforts into anything but accepting the death of her Brother. When graduation came, and life finally stopped, she was left with no choice but to face the fact that there was nowhere left to hide.
She’s far from healed from the loss, but Zia dedicated herself to living as a person her Brother could be proud of. She forewent College to become a Bodyguard herself. She remained a dedicated activist around Georgia fighting for the mutant cause, and learning as much as she could from the community that had been built there. She bounced all around Georgia guarding different types of people. Actors, Politicians, Journalists— the one line she never crossed was guarding an anti-mutant. If she was going to live a life her Brother could be proud of, she’d have to hold her integrity in the highest regard.
She had watched everything happening in New York unfold across her TV screen. Between reports of riots, rising terrorist organizations, and the Mutant School owned by Charles Xavier, it was a lot to take in. But what really grabbed Zia was the Exposé by the Mutants who had escaped from Essex house. She had remembered crying through the whole thing, astounded at the things human beings were capable of.
The next day was when she got the call from the family of one of those very same Mutants requesting her services. And, when they had shown such bravery in putting a target on their back, how could she say no? That’s how Zia ended up in New York City, a place far removed from her Georgian farm life, in charge of the life of one Monique Washington. Who knew how that would go?