<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>Aori<br/><br/>Aori’s question was greeted with the fine line of an arched brow.  While pretty the girl looked sorely out of place.  She was not urchin, her sweater to clean and her jeans while worn had been expensive at some point.  At the same time she was hardly a guest.  The way the flow of what qualified for Singapore’s social elite subtly avoided the chaise lounge like children avoiding a haunted house was an unconscious indication that the endowed young woman was undesirable and to be avoided.<br/><br/>“I would rather be elsewhere.”  It was real enough an answer.  Social leper or no, Ami had about as much in common with the Pariah as she did with the insufferable British royalty.<br/><br/>“You on the other hand look quite happy right where you are.”  Ami observed getting a look of distaste from a matronly woman and her handlebar mustachoed husband.  Aside from the pristine silken cheongsam and perfectly manicured hair Ami was little more a servant to these people.  It wasn’t who she was, but what she had to offer that made her of value so the look did little to disturb the librarian.<br/><br/>Lips met chilled wine again leaving morning dew on the stigma of her mouth. It was the only comfortable chill in the gods forsaken place.<br/>