Queen Sheba
The Rebel
The Diva
Zubayda
Fatima
The Little Princess
Donia
The Femme Fatale
The Innocent Child – “Leonora”
Archetype: The Innocent / Eternal Child
Light Side: Wonder, purity, joy, unconditional love
Shadow Side: Naivety, escapism, arrested development, misjudged motives
Light Side: Wonder, purity, joy, unconditional love
Shadow Side: Naivety, escapism, arrested development, misjudged motives
Leonora, a Daddy’s girl. A meadow-born spirit with butterfly wings and a daisy crown. She grew up believing in magic—not because someone told her to, but because the world simply sparkled that way. Cats were her confidants, flowers her friends, and every white horse on the horizon was clearly a unicorn in disguise.
She sang before she spoke. Danced before she walked.
She mistook wolves for guardians. And when they bared their teeth, she thought they were smiling.
She mistook wolves for guardians. And when they bared their teeth, she thought they were smiling.
Leonora never meant harm. She just never left the storybook.
And maybe, deep down, she didn’t want to.
And maybe, deep down, she didn’t want to.
Then came the move—from green pastures to sand dunes.
From rainfall to dust storms. From a grandmother’s applause to silence.
Something shifted. Or rather—something stopped.
Her body kept aging, but her mind clung to a single frame:
A ten-year-old girl in a red costume, spinning in the living room light.
From rainfall to dust storms. From a grandmother’s applause to silence.
Something shifted. Or rather—something stopped.
Her body kept aging, but her mind clung to a single frame:
A ten-year-old girl in a red costume, spinning in the living room light.
Now, as an adult, her innocence seems strange.
She laughs too loud. Believes too easily. Wears whimsy like armor.
People whisper: immature, silly, suspicious.
She gets misread—not because she’s bad, but because the world forgot how to read softness.
She laughs too loud. Believes too easily. Wears whimsy like armor.
People whisper: immature, silly, suspicious.
She gets misread—not because she’s bad, but because the world forgot how to read softness.
She mourns the girl she left behind,
Not realizing the girl never left her.
Not realizing the girl never left her.
“The world wasn’t safe,” she whispers.
“But I was.”
“But I was.”
1. Lil’ G – The Wounded Child / The Orphan Archetype
Shadow Side: Rage, victimhood, projection, criminal behavior by proxy
Light Side: Innocence, longing for connection, potential for redemption
Light Side: Innocence, longing for connection, potential for redemption
Lil’ G was born into a war zone with no battleground but the neighborhood streets. His father was a myth—locked behind bars before he could say “Baba.” His mother, hollowed by heartbreak and a pipe full of crack, faded into the background like peeling paint on their apartment walls. There was no bedtime, no breakfast, no safe space—just a haze of sirens and smoke.
What Lil’ G wanted was simple: someone to show him how to be a man. What he got was a gang initiation, a pistol in his palm, and a name that wasn’t his. He wasn’t built for violence—he was built for validation. The hood offered a false brotherhood, a camouflage for pain. He didn’t pull the trigger, but the streets don’t care. Guilt by proximity became his reality.
Sentenced for burglary and murder by association, Lil’ G went down for someone else's sins. He was naive, delusional, still clinging to an illusion of loyalty that would never be returned. His story is a haunting echo of a forgotten truth: when society fails a child, the streets raise him, and prison buries him.
But Lil’ G’s archetype isn’t only shadow. The Wounded Child, in its light form, holds the capacity for deep empathy, transformation, and strength. If nurtured, Lil’ G could evolve—no longer the victim, but the voice.
The Rebel is a firestorm in heels—unapologetic, untamed, and unforgettable. With a craving for Red Bull and cigarettes, she storms through life in thigh-high leather boots and spiked accessories, refusing to bend to anyone’s rules but her own. At first glance, The Rebel is the archetype of a rebel without a cause—but her journey tells a different story.
Raised between cultures, her early acts of defiance were rooted in small, meaningful gestures: sneaking into a swimming class her parents had forbidden, watching from the sidelines as her peers danced freely. Rebellion, for her, began as a silent protest against exclusion, shame, and rigid expectations.
As a teenager, she was defiant and curious, questioning rules that didn’t make sense and pushing boundaries she wasn’t allowed to cross. She found herself an outsider even among the elite students of a private school, feeling alienated by their wealth and glamour. Instead of assimilating, she embraced her outsider status, sharpening her edges and nurturing her inner fire.
In college, she majored in art, where her outspokenness clashed with conservative professors. A class project on Surat Ar-Rahman unexpectedly forced her to confront the contradictions in her life—her cynicism, her longing for answers, her performance of faith for the sake of grades. What began as a hollow presentation became a turning point. The Rebel realized that her rebellion lacked direction—that rage alone, without reflection, was self-destructive.
Her transformation began not with a bang, but with a quiet renovation—of her home, her relationships, and her identity. She softened her wardrobe, opened her heart to her family, and turned inward. No longer at war with the world, she sought to understand it—and herself.
She redefined rebellion as a creative force. Inspired by leaders like Martin Luther King, she recognized that true change stems from purpose, not rage. Her new cause became femininity—not as weakness, but as power. Embracing softness, empathy, and intuition, she became a modern-day warrior for feminine energy. Through art, design, and community support, she gently influenced her world, proving that rebellion doesn’t always roar—sometimes, it blossoms.
The Rebel is no longer just a rebel—she’s a visionary. Her story is one of resilience, reinvention, and reclaiming power through grace. A once-lost girl in leather boots now walks confidently in floral dresses, lighting the way for others to rise, rebel, and redefine freedom on their own terms.
2. Fatima – The Good Girl / The Innocent
Archetype: The Innocent, The Seeker
Light Side: Purity, loyalty, inner yearning, spiritual sensitivity
Shadow Side: Naivety, repression, lack of boundaries
Light Side: Purity, loyalty, inner yearning, spiritual sensitivity
Shadow Side: Naivety, repression, lack of boundaries
Fatima is the vessel—soft, sincere, and deeply spiritual. Trained from a young age to obey, to conform, and to hide, she is the “good girl” archetype in its purest form. Her hijab becomes both a symbol of devotion and a burden of suppression. Caught between cultures and identities, Fatima is never allowed to fully choose her path—so she fractures. Her desire for love, belonging, and agency births her shadow self, Donia.
Fatima’s strength lies in her resilience. Even when hijacked by her darker half, she leaves behind traces of grace. When the spell finally breaks, she returns with compassion, humility, and a determination to rebuild—not just her life, but her sense of self. Fatima embodies the long, painful walk home—the return of the lost soul.
Fatima – The Dreamer / The Withdrawer / The Seeker
Archetype: The Dreamer / The Seeker / The Withdrawer
Light Side: Intuition, inner resilience, spiritual longing, poetic soul
Shadow Side: Dissociation, passivity, fractured identity, silent suffering
Light Side: Intuition, inner resilience, spiritual longing, poetic soul
Shadow Side: Dissociation, passivity, fractured identity, silent suffering
Fatima is the vessel—soft, sincere, and deeply spiritual. A quiet soul shaped by obedience, she grew up in a world where her worth was measured by silence. She was the good girl, the modest daughter, the mirror of other people’s expectations. Her hijab was both crown and cage—a symbol of faith and a mantle of control.
From a young age, Fatima was trained to say “yes,” even when everything inside her whispered “no.” Her opinions were dismissed, her desires buried beneath layers of virtue, modesty, and duty. Somewhere along the way, she began to fracture. The yearning for love, freedom, and agency—never granted—manifested as rebellion. And thus, Donia was born: her wild, seductive, untamed shadow.
Fatima watched her life unfold from the backseat, powerless as her alter ego hijacked the wheel. Donia lived loudly, recklessly, destructively—but Fatima envied her freedom. She wanted to sing again. To dance again. To be more than a vessel of other people’s dreams.
She wandered streets and art galleries in a daze, searching for something nameless, something sacred—something that lived inside her once, but had gone missing. A girl in a red riding hood costume. A voice. A soul.
Fatima is the dreamer who withdrew to survive, who dissociated rather than destroyed, who watched the house of self burn down and sifted through its ashes for meaning. Her gift is her depth, her longing, her unwavering hope for a home she has never truly known.
She is the woman who forgot how to dance—and now aches to remember.
She is the girl who thought the world was safe—and now mourns her illusion.
She is the seeker, lost in the wilderness of self, still whispering:
“I want to come home.”
She is the girl who thought the world was safe—and now mourns her illusion.
She is the seeker, lost in the wilderness of self, still whispering:
“I want to come home.”
Fatima – The Dreamer / The Seeker / The Withdrawer
Archetype: The Dreamer, The Seeker, The Exile
Light Side: Spiritual depth, poetic soul, emotional intelligence, resilience, imagination
Shadow Side: Self-abandonment, escapism, dissociation, longing without direction
Light Side: Spiritual depth, poetic soul, emotional intelligence, resilience, imagination
Shadow Side: Self-abandonment, escapism, dissociation, longing without direction
Fatima is the soft echo in a loud world—a vessel shaped by obedience, silence, and the need to please. She was the “good girl” everyone wanted: dutiful daughter, veiled believer, polite student, perfect bride-to-be. But each time she said "yes" to others, she whispered "no" to herself.
Her story isn’t one of rebellion. It’s one of erasure.
Born into a clash of cultures and contradictions, Fatima was never taught to choose—only to comply. Her hijab, worn in fear rather than faith, became a banner for a self she didn’t recognize. Beneath the fabric and the expectations, a hidden self stirred. Her name was Donia. Or maybe Leila. Or maybe just… desire. When Fatima’s voice was stolen, Donia screamed. When Fatima wept, Leila danced. But the rebellion, seductive at first, swallowed her whole.
Still, Fatima remained. A witness inside the wreckage. A soul in exile.
She wandered museums and alleyways like a ghost, searching for art, for symbols, for something that could explain the ache she carried. But what she sought was not out there—it was inside her. A song buried beneath shame. A dancer paralyzed by judgment. A child who once wore a red riding hood and believed wolves were bedtime stories.
Her dreams were her protest. Her dissociation, a survival strategy. She dreamed of freedom—not the kind Donia promised, but a deeper liberation: the right to belong to herself.
She is not naïve. She is fractured.
She is not weak. She is recovering.
She is not voiceless. She is remembering how to speak.
She is not weak. She is recovering.
She is not voiceless. She is remembering how to speak.
Fatima is the Seeker—longing not just for a place, but for a wholeness she’s never known. She is the Dreamer—mourning the girl she once was, and daring to imagine who she might become. She is the Withdrawer—not because she lacks courage, but because the world has been too loud for too long.
And now, step by trembling step, she walks back home.
To her body.
To her voice.
To herself.
To her body.
To her voice.
To herself.
Donia the Diva – The Shadow Queen / Femme Fatale Archetype
Archetype: The Seductress, The Shadow Queen
Shadow Side: Narcissism, manipulation, addiction to power and validation
Light Side: Charisma, self-possession, stage presence, creative flair
Shadow Side: Narcissism, manipulation, addiction to power and validation
Light Side: Charisma, self-possession, stage presence, creative flair
Donia is the dark glitter of the psyche—a dazzling, dangerous alter ego born from unmet needs and buried rage. She is Fatima’s shadow: loud where Fatima is silent, seductive where Fatima is shy. Drenched in cinematic glamour and femme fatale energy, Donia engineers her life like a film set, casting lovers as extras in her drama. She is brilliant, beautiful, and broken—her power rooted in performance, not presence. Behind the lashes and heels lies a wounded child, seeking revenge on a world that denied her joy.
Donia uses men as stepping stones, not soulmates. Her obsession with freedom curdles into manipulation, and her pursuit of independence slips into addiction. Donia’s descent is operatic: she becomes her own downfall. Yet in her final act, shattered and sobbing in a Dubai hotel room, she falls to her knees—not for applause, but for mercy. That moment marks her first unscripted scene.
Archetype: The Hero / The Savior / The Alchemist
Light Side: Courage, compassion, self-sacrifice, transformative power
Shadow Side: Savior complex, repression of vulnerability, fear masked as control
Light Side: Courage, compassion, self-sacrifice, transformative power
Shadow Side: Savior complex, repression of vulnerability, fear masked as control
She was born in a haunted house.
Not the kind with ghosts or monsters, but a house haunted by silence, by sorrow, by the slow creep of despair.
Not the kind with ghosts or monsters, but a house haunted by silence, by sorrow, by the slow creep of despair.
Her mother, once radiant, lay suspended in a web of grief.
Her father, once strong, withered quietly, poisoned from within.
The rooms dimmed. Dust thickened. Laughter vanished.
And at the center of it all—a spider.
Her father, once strong, withered quietly, poisoned from within.
The rooms dimmed. Dust thickened. Laughter vanished.
And at the center of it all—a spider.
To a child, the spider was everything she couldn’t name:
The shadow under the bed.
The weight on her chest.
The thing that turned love into absence, and parents into strangers.
The shadow under the bed.
The weight on her chest.
The thing that turned love into absence, and parents into strangers.
She feared it.
She hated it.
She ran from it.
She hated it.
She ran from it.
But years later, when she returned—grown, armored, disguised as Wonder Woman—she realized the spider was not a monster.
It was a mirror.
Her own fear. Her own projection. Her own imprisoned power.
It was a mirror.
Her own fear. Her own projection. Her own imprisoned power.
In a final battle—equal parts myth and memory—she confronted the spider not with rage, but with understanding.
She did not crush it. She claimed it.
And with that, the web dissolved. Her mother awoke. Her father stood. The house bloomed.
She did not crush it. She claimed it.
And with that, the web dissolved. Her mother awoke. Her father stood. The house bloomed.
The haunted house became a garden.
A space of warmth, of healing—where the girl in the red hood could sing again.
A space of warmth, of healing—where the girl in the red hood could sing again.
This is her legacy: not to save others through force,
but to transform fear into freedom,
to light a torch in the darkest room,
to make a home for the parts of us that hide.
but to transform fear into freedom,
to light a torch in the darkest room,
to make a home for the parts of us that hide.
She is The Savior—not because she is fearless,
but because she dared to fight the fear that wore eight legs and lived in her own mind.
but because she dared to fight the fear that wore eight legs and lived in her own mind.
2. Lord Jackson – The Warrior / The Avenger Archetype
Shadow Side: Vengeance, manipulation, quiet domination
Light Side: Disciplined strength, justice, redemption, spiritual wisdom
Light Side: Disciplined strength, justice, redemption, spiritual wisdom
They called him The Mobster, but that was before prison rebranded him. He served time like a scholar serves solitude. Years behind bars didn’t harden him—they refined him. He shed his old name and picked up the Qur’an. He read Malcolm X like scripture, studied Martin Luther King like a prophet, and learned power from the unlikeliest places: the rapists, the pimps, the killers. He didn’t just survive prison—he graduated from it.
While the young ones fought for scraps and scars, The Mobster devoured books from the prison library, sat in circles with lifers who spoke like prophets. He studied the game at its roots: trauma, poverty, oppression. He walked out of prison not in chains, but in a tailored suit. Sharp. Silent. Surgical.
He didn’t need to raise his voice. Real power doesn’t shout—it whispers. The Mobster understood the rules now: real gangs wear silk ties, sign papers, own property. But he never forgot. He carried vengeance in his veins—not with bullets, but with strategy. He became a menace not to the weak, but to the system that once tried to bury him.
His archetype is the Avenger, tempered by the Warrior Monk. Where Lil’ G was broken by the world, The Mobster remade himself inside it. He is justice without apology, the retribution of the fallen, the man who walked through hell and returned clean.
Lil’ G- the wounded child, lack of a father figure, absent (father in prison), a broken mother. (Addicted to crack cocaine), victim of a society, neglected, turned to the streets, mentored by an older gang member, naive, delusional, sent to prison, charged for burglary and murder by association.
The Mobster- years in prison, repentance, embraced Islam and changed his name, underwent years, therapeutic programming and rehabilitation in prison, read, prison library, books on Martin Luther King, Malcom X, learned from the murderers, the rapers, the gangsters, pimps, and other criminal, book smart and street smart, after finishing his sentence and paid his dues, he left prison as a force to be reckoned with, real gangs don’t look gangster, sharp, tailored look, he put all pimps to shame, a menace to society, demanded respect. Sought vengeance in silence.
Sheba
Fatima sought refuge in the company of strange men. She met them in secluded spots where she could freely express herself—or rather embody Donia, her audacious alter ego. With cinematic precision, she skillfully orchestrated each encounter, casting herself as the elusive star. Infatuated by her charm, wit, and allure, these men idolized her as an enigma, a diva in her own right. Yet she remained emotionally detached, rejecting their attempts to play a larger role. Once they fulfilled their roles in her complex drama, she easily discarded them as mere pawns in her femme fatale narrative. Through these transient interactions, Donia flourished. The intricate interplay between a public persona and a private self fully realized two distinct identities. As Fatima basked in the spotlight, Donia lurked in the shadows, watching her rival with envy and plotting to steal the spotlight.
In the shadows, the siren searched for male targets until she encountered Latif. Despite his family's devout facade, Latif rebelled privately, finding solace in alcohol. Their shared experiences forged a bond, creating a secret world of rendezvous and indulgences. Latif's fondness for whiskey and the allure of dimly lit rooms evoking film noir scenes provided the perfect backdrop for Donia. He possessed everything she sought: the looks, the lifestyle, and the ability to seamlessly blend into her world. In Latif, Leila saw not just a companion but a means to an end—a partner she intended to marry and divorce to secure her freedom. Envisioning a future free from the constraints of her father or any man, Donia aimed to carve out a life on her own terms.
The Socialite – “Lady of the Drawing Room”
Archetype: The Queen / The Social Sovereign
Light Side: Elegance, leadership, feminine power, social influence
Shadow Side: Control, elitism, manipulation, class and racial bias
Light Side: Elegance, leadership, feminine power, social influence
Shadow Side: Control, elitism, manipulation, class and racial bias
She is the Lady—always the Lady. Regal in bearing, fluent in etiquette, and born to command a room. Whether seated at an afternoon tea or orchestrating a gala, she carries herself with the quiet authority of a woman who knows her value—and expects the world to know it, too.
Inspired by the great matriarchs of history—Zubayda foremost among them—The Socialite sees womanhood not as a role but as a reign. She presides over her home like a sovereign estate, managing staff with a practiced hand and nurturing her brothers with maternal pride. She supports women’s advancement in public, funds social initiatives, and elevates those she deems worthy with a single, graceful nod.
In women’s circles, she is admired and feared—envied for her poise, her travels, her couture, her command of conversation. In men’s company, she shines. Not because she seeks their favor, but because she understands their language. She makes them feel respected, heard, and never threatened. Her charm is disarming, her intellect rare, and her appreciation for masculine pride... calculated.
But beneath the polished veneer lies complexity.
She is not merely elegant—she is strategic.
She doesn’t just host—she curates influence.
She is not merely elegant—she is strategic.
She doesn’t just host—she curates influence.
Her flaw is not vanity—it is lineage. She believes deeply in bloodlines, tradition, and maintaining social order. This makes her rigid, often racially or culturally biased, blind to merit when it comes without pedigree. Like Zubayda before her, her loyalty to ancestry can cloud her judgment and even provoke disaster. She may speak of women’s empowerment, but only within parameters she controls.
Behind her social charm is a tactician: someone who subtly shifts the dynamics in a room, inserts herself into others' lives, and seeks to shape outcomes in her favor. Her interference is rarely loud—but it is felt.
Still, she is a woman of her time, shaped by structures not of her making. Her cage is gilded, yes—but it is a cage. For all her status and sovereignty, she is still bound by the very gender roles she enforces. Her freedom lies in the same trap she locks others into.
She is a paradox of power and limitation.
A queen with velvet gloves—and iron intentions.
She builds empires in salons and drawing rooms,
but risks losing the world beyond their walls.
A queen with velvet gloves—and iron intentions.
She builds empires in salons and drawing rooms,
but risks losing the world beyond their walls.
Zubayda, wife of Caliph Harun al-Rashid and successor to Al-Khayzuran as Lady of the Palace, embodied the highest ideals of womanhood in the Abbasid era—combining beauty, intellect, eloquence, and leadership. Adored by the Caliph, she held exceptional influence in court affairs, particularly during his military campaigns. A patron of literature and science, she transformed Baghdad into a thriving hub of intellectual activity by supporting scholars, poets, and thinkers.
Zubayda also revolutionized women’s fashion by importing luxurious silks and vivid colors from India and China, setting trends that transcended social class. Her legacy endures through the many landmarks that bear her name—most notably Ayn Zubayda, the freshwater canal she commissioned to serve pilgrims in Mecca.
However, her legacy is not without blemish. Zubayda’s deep maternal bias during the succession crisis between her son al-Amin and his half-brother al-Ma'mun proved politically disastrous. Despite al-Ma'mun’s evident competence, she championed al-Amin, driven by pride in his pure Hashemite lineage. Her interference led to the downfall of the influential Barmakid family, who had supported al-Ma'mun, and contributed to a civil war that ended with al-Amin’s tragic death and a weakened empire.
This episode underscores the destructive consequences of personal favoritism and the overvaluation of lineage over merit. While Arab society placed great emphasis on ancestry, Islam elevated piety as the true measure of worth. As the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: “No Arab is superior to a non-Arab, nor a white to a black, except by piety.”
Just as lineage determines a horse’s eligibility within noble bloodlines, ancestry among humans carries cultural significance—but without virtue and wisdom, it can become a cause of downfall. Zubayda’s story is thus one of both remarkable cultural contribution and cautionary political misjudgment.
Nevertheless, in horse herds, the alpha is typically a female.
