Post by Layla Amisi on Nov 23, 2008 18:03:36 GMT -5
Layla Amisi
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Age: 11
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight
Nationality: Hebrew
Class: Poor
Occupation: Slave in the Palace.
Personal Belongings
As a slave with a very poor status, Layla has hardly but the clothes on her back and whatever is provided for her in her occupation.
A Little Bit Personal
Personality
- Timid
- Quiet
- Knows her place
- Obedient
- Curious
- Slightly childish
- Unfeigned
- A Dreamer
- Scared easily
- Not self-confident
- Mistrustful
- Lack in social skills
Likes
- Furry animals
- Peace
- Exploring
- Expanse of the Palace
- Toys
- Stories
- Freedom
- Stars
Dislikes
- Nile creatures
- Violence
- Many higher-ups
- Crowds of adults
- The palace guards
- Scorpions
- Insects
Strengths
- Open-minded
- Listens to her gut
- Is fairly fast
- Learns quickly
Weaknesses
- Too curious for her own good
- Lack of confidence
- Physically weak
- Childish mind
- Her curiosity
- Emotional bonds
Let's See How You Write
The duties today were different from the usual, in which Layla did not mind at all. She enjoyed the differences these past days, for it seemed like something was coming up. Something important. From the likes currently, though, Layla could not understand the anxiety or stress from her fellow slaves. They seemed nervous, but it was hard to tell what from. They talked little of the upcoming event, maybe because they were terrified of getting caught speaking of the subject. Like the innately curious cat she was, Layla attempted to eavesdrop as much as she could, but spoke small of what she had learned, which in turn was not much. Maybe while passing Royals she could continue learning more of the event. As little many she made contact with, Layla was aware of the country's status. There was war everywhere, which indeed scared her. Like the small knowledge of the event, she did not know why this country was in complete chaos. Something was happening...
As the child quietly made her way down the corridor of the Palace carrying a rather large ceramic basin, her ears strained when she heard voices. They talked high and confidently, instantly Layla could make them out as voices of Royals or perhaps those of the court. The slave suddenly stopped in her tracks before she was to pass a room on the right, the liquid in the basin sloshing around noisily. Her ebony eyes widened as Layla began to make out what their conversation was of. They spoke in a hushed volume, as though they did not wish for any other to hear them. As all was silent except for the voices, she was forced to take shallow breaths so they would not hear her. It was difficult to make out what they were saying, however. They were muffled through the curtains and adnorments of the room they were in.
When the voices ceased and there was shuffling of their sandals, Layla immidiately began to take off, her heart pounding within her chest. However, with the basin of water slowing her down, she fell right into one of the men who did not turn out to be a Royal, but from the Court. The pot within her hands that was too large for her fell, the contents pouring out onto the stone floor. Layla was able to catch it before it would clatter upon the ground, her head shooting up instantly. "I-I'm sorry! I'm so s-sorry!" she studdered in fear, her eyes avoiding their. Their gaze was strong on her however as she hoisted the basin back up to her chest and began to cower against the corridor wall. These men were obviously in a rush, though angered by her clumsiness. One of them muttered something at Layla, more or so in a growl. His eyes narrowed at her and she automatically cringed in response, but they were in too much of a rush to bother doing anything further. With a scowl, both of the men hurried back down the corridor, leaving Layla frightened and alone to clean up her mess.