Babylon Carden carries himself with an easy, deliberate confidence—the kind born from a lifetime of surviving in places people don’t talk about after dark. He moves with the quiet precision of someone who sees more than he lets on. His eyes, an arresting shade that catches light in unsettling ways, track opportunity like a predator following a pulse.

Now carving out his place in this new world, Babylon has set his sights on commerce, influence, and the delicate anatomy of wealth. As a market manager and ambitious merchant, he is building a trading company he calls Black List. A network meant to acquire rare goods, obscure knowledge, exclusive contacts, and any profitable secret that slips through the cracks of the civilized world. To Babylon, coin isn’t just currency, it’s lifeblood. He means to control its flow. He hoards it when it matters, spends it without hesitation when it yields advantage, and treats every transaction like a move in a grand, unseen game.

Yet beneath the charm and business polish, there is something subtly uncanny about him. He avoids the midday sun, claiming it “drains his focus.” He eats little, though never weakens. His touch tends toward cool, no matter the temperature. His reflection sometimes seems a fraction slower to mimic him always explainable, always dismissed, always… strange. People whisper, but he never stops them; mystery is good for business.

Curiosity is his truest vice. Babylon devours information, history, magic, creatures, cultures. Obsessively mapping the logic of this world as though trying to fill a void only he can feel. Rumors say he rarely sleeps, that wounds heal on him faster than they should, that sailors have seen his eyes faintly gleam crimson in moonlight. He laughs at such claims, charming as ever.

But Babylon Carden always leaves just enough truth in the shadows to keep the rumors alive. After all, Black List thrives on curiosity... and so does he.