<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/51/Ami01.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong>Ami Ellison<br/><strong>Where:</strong>Amelia Linbergh Estate - Singapore<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Open<br/><br/>Ami had never been to Singapore before and frankly she would be fine never coming back.  It was, in a word…sticky.  Her hair stuck to her skin and her skin to her clothes.  Dirt and filth stuck to everything, while creeping vines stuck to every building slowly crushing the city from within and without.  The humidity was oppressive as were the number of urchins overflowing from alleys and clogging the markets.<br/><br/>Still the Professor of Antiquities had insisted she make the trip to authenticate Sir Peter’s findings.  Ami had been aware of her birthright long enough to read fate in the most mundane of things.  After her third attempt at avoiding the trip she had given up and accepted that she was needed here whether she liked it or not.  So far not was winning.<br/><br/>Amelia Linbergh’s estate was at least an oasis from the sticky.  Dressed in a crisp white cheongsam Ami’s long midnight hair was rolled and pinned, Vivian Leigh-like in its perfection.  She was the very images of Chinese grace and American glamour.  She much preferred her tweed and horn-rimmed glasses.  The “gift” of her auspicious birth really make her glasses an affectation  as opposed to a necessity, but she had gotten so used to wearing them that she felt positively naked not having something to push up the tip of her nose with an unoccupied finger.<br/><br/>To occupy her idle hands she retrieved a tapered flute of rice wine as it passed on a silver tray that could feed a pour family for a year and took a sip letting the sweet chill coat her lotus flower lips.  She had arrived too early. An early escape was not to be.  A smudge of pink stuck to the lip of the glass when it pulled away.<br/><br/>Ami sighed.<br/>