Sapphira
New Member
The Desert Rose
Posts: 0
|
Post by Sapphira on Apr 22, 2007 15:19:41 GMT -5
Name: Sapphira al-Harabi Bloodline: ó Cionaoith
Date of Birth: October 20th, 1984 Place of Birth: Medina, Saudi Arabia Ethnicity: Saudi Age at Turning: 19 Place of Turning: New Orleans, Louisiana Languages Spoken: Arabic, English Height: 5'1'' Weight:120 Body Shape: Moderate curves, more curvacious through the hips. Hair: Dark brown Eyes: Blue Piercings: Double in each earlobe, one in right ear cartiledge. Tattoos: Blue Rose and thorn design across lower back. Scars: Set of 3 diagonally from right hip towards belly button (tiger claw)
Sire: Arsanga Siblings (including sire's partner's): Andy Drake, Belzebub, ilovepi, littlesarie, Gallager, King Lestat, yankees suck, MORPHYUS, Ravyne, Damia Morgan, Zathras, Remiel, Rykoth, Sadi, Nimoue, Ryne Sicotte, Gold Fyre Childer: Green Mayo, Larien, Nedra, eufrozyne (deceased) Marital Status: Single; twice divorced
School of Training: Clan Archangel Forges Former Clans: Clan of the Archangel, Clan Seraphim, Scions of the Phoenix Current Clan: Empty Spiral
Weapon of Choice: Scimitar-silver with jewel encrusted handle worn off right hip. Fighting Proficiencies: Two-Weapon fighting (scimitars); more sneak attack based offense. Abilities: Heightened senses; slight enhancement of strength and agility; locate; telepathy. (ie all the powers in the city only slightly weaker due to lack of formal training in these abilities.) Weaknesses: Healing abilities very weak, other vampiric powers not as strong yet due to lack of training. Pets: One tiger, Jade.
Skills: Teaching; Dancing (expertise in bellydancing); Bartending-staff bartender for Phoenix Haven and Creaking Coffin; Music-can play piano and guitar.
Histories to be posted as I write them.
|
|
Sapphira
New Member
The Desert Rose
Posts: 0
|
Post by Sapphira on Apr 22, 2007 20:30:07 GMT -5
A Diamond in the Rough: The Beginnings
The lights of Medina sparkled against the dark canopy of the sky. The center of the city bustled with crowds of people going from club to club. Calls of harem owners could be heard echoing through the streets offering their wares, and the music of the belly dancer pouring out of halls on street corners. As the streets started to weave away from the center of town, the night air grew quiet and serene with dreams of both old and young, asleep in their beds. Hoof beats pierced the silence as a lone horse and rider moved swiftly down the cobblestone alleys and roads. As the rider galloped onwards, the city started to fade into rolling sand dunes as civilization was left behind. The lone rider traveled on, sand spraying up around him as the steed pushed over each consecutive sand dune. Each mile passed like an eternity as the man rode for miles and miles into the desolate desert until an oasis seemingly sprang up out of the sands. A village of hodge-podge Bedouin tents and buildings compromised this paradise for the wealthy men of Medina. The horseman rode up to the side of a huge estate in the center of the village, several servants came rushing out to get his horse as he dismounted and walked inside the compound, as he carried inside a secret that was as black as the pure darkness of an Arabian night. Flashback
A shadowed balcony provided all the comforts of a lover’s getaway for a young couple that had to hide their love from the world. He was a man of great repute, yet unwelcome in Medina. She was a Sheik’s daughter, and was courted by many princes from royal families all over the Middle East. Their difference in status made them forbidden lovers, yet continued their affair despite the risks. Their love grew as time passed. Their night time visits became more frequent and more daring. Several months after they first became lovers, they shared a passionate embrace hidden by the night. However their actions weren’t without consequence. Johara sent for her lover to meet her just outside the castle gates to tell him of the news she had learned. Amed kissed Johara briefly when he met her outside, his arms wrapping around her.
“Amed, darling, we have a problem…..” She paused as she looked sorrowfully into his eyes. “I am expecting a child, your child…”
His eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly. “What are we to do then, habibi? We should run away from here and go somewhere that we can raise our child together.”
Johara frowned slightly as she rested her hands against her stomach. “You and I both know my father would not let that happen easily. No one can know we were together. I can conceal myself until the baby arrives, then I will send for you. We cannot afford to be seen together again…” She started to cry as she leaned her head against Amed’s chest. “I love you dearly, but this is the way it has to be…”
Amed nodded in agreement as he held her close to him for one last embrace before they parted ways in the darkness.
End Flashback
Amed dismissed his servants and sat on the chaise lounge as he looked at the bundle in his arms. He unwrapped the bundle to see a bright blue pair of eyes staring up at him. He smiled weakly, the eyes reminding him of the child’s mother. As he uncovered the rest of the babe’s face, he sighed heavily as he looked down at his baby daughter. Amed reached down and touched the girl’s face, then delicately picked up the perfect sapphire pendant dangling around her neck. It was her mother’s final gift to her, a symbol of her heritage and right to power as a daughter of a princess. He leaned down and kissed the child’s head with a tear in his eye.
“Oh my daughter, why couldn’t you have been male, you would’ve been the wealthiest in the land.” He reflected for a moment, and then smiled. “From this day forward, you shall be called Sapphira al-Harabi my dearest daughter, for you have eyes as blue as sapphires.”
Amed clapped his hands together, summoning a servant who ushered in one of Amed’s closest aunts into the room. Amed stood up and took Sapphira over to his aunt and placed her into Nasirah’s waiting arms. “You shall be my daughter’s nanny. Raise her as if she were your own and under the rules of this harem.”
Nasirah bowed politely and took Sapphira out of the room with her, as Amed walked out onto his balcony to collect himself.
|
|
Sapphira
New Member
The Desert Rose
Posts: 0
|
Post by Sapphira on May 14, 2007 9:37:33 GMT -5
A Diamond in the Rough: The Early Years
Allah akbar Allah akbar,
Allah akbar Allah akbar!
Ashnadu an la ihala illa Allah,
Ashnadu an la ihala illa Allah!
Ashhadu anna Muhammadan rasul Allah,
Ashhadu anna Muhammadan rasul Allah!
Hayya ‘ala al-salat,
Hayya ‘ala al-salat!
Hayya ‘ala al-falah,
Hayya ‘ala al-falah!
Allahu akbar,
Allahu akbar!
La ihala illa Allah!
The call of the muezzin pierced the still dawn air, drawing Sapphira out of bed. Many moons have passed since she was brought to her father’s compound; however, each morning was the same. She slid out of bed and walked into the next room where all the women would gather to offer prayer to Allah. She walked before her mat and stood for a moment before kneeling then prostrating, lowering her forehead to rest on her hands, eyes closed, her lips quietly whispering her prayers and wishes, hoping that she might be saved from her chores.
When she was finished, she got up to leave the room, and ran into her nanny, Nasirah.
“Sabah al-kair, jadda.”
“Sabah al nur, Sapphira. Your father wants to meet with you for breakfast today. Meet him on the patio after you get dressed.”
Sapphira’s face lit up like a light, and she dashed out of the room and into her own, not even bothering to say goodbye to Nasirah. As she reached her dresser, she puller out a long burgundy skirt and a black blouse out of the drawers. After she was done dressing, she went to slide on her sandals, stopping to look at herself in the mirror, smiling before closing her door, and running down the hall towards her father’s suite.
She slowed to a walk as she neared the doorway to the patio adjacent to her father’s office. She peeked around the doorframe to see several boys around her age along with several servants listening to him speak. His eyes caught a glimpse of Sapphira standing in the hallway, and then turned back to those gathered.
“You are dismissed, may the peace of Allah be upon you. Fikri, please go and tell A’isha I am ready for breakfast.”
The men and boys quickly scattered to their duties as Amed patted the cushion next to him, motioning for Sapphira to join him. A serving girl appeared with a tray of fruits, sweetbreads, coffee, and juice and placed it on the table in front of them.
After they had finished eating, Amed turned to Sapphira as he was sipping his coffee.
“My dear daughter, you are now six years old. Have you started to become accustomed to all the different duties and responsibilities of the members of this house?”
“Yes, papa, I have,” she smiled at him weakly as she sat cross legged next to him.
“You are old enough now that you are expected to start contributing to the work and becoming learned in whatever you wish. Do you have anything in mind, Sapphira?”
She sat quietly for a moment before looking at her father.
“I want to dance….and I want to play music, and be well learned in arts and literature…”
Her voice trailed off a bit as her eyes caught on to the scimitar that was lying on the table in front of her. The early morning sun shone brightly off the well-polished silver handle, the blue and green gems that were encrusted in it were sparkling like the sun reflecting of the water. Sapphira had been enraptured with the sword ever since she started to observe the young boys training outside with Hamid, Amed’s head bodyguard.
“And I want to learn how to use this…”As she spoke, her hands reached forward to grab the scimitar lying on the table.
Before her fingertips could touch the blade, Amed reached for his newspaper, rolled it up, and smacked it against the back of Sapphira’s hands, forcing her to draw them back into her lap, tears starting to well up in her eyes.
“You are never to touch a sword ever, you understand? That is not a plaything for girls to use, but for men to use as a tool to defend the honor of family.” Sapphira silently nodded her head as her father continued. “Go and find Rasha. She will take you as a taliba of music and dance. Tell her that I sent you. Trust me dearest, this will be for the best.”
“Yes, papa. I will do well and make you proud, I promise. Sukran, papa.” Sapphira stood up and politely bowed to her father.
“Ma’assalama, Sapphira.”
“Fiaman Allah, papa,” she murmured as she turned and walked out of the room and hurried through the compound towards her room and Nasirah’s comforting arms.
|
|