cuimhinliom: (winds of change)
December 24, 1996

She bit her lip, staring at the letter, an old habit she'd picked up some time ago. Jason said it was hot and made him think of his teeth on her lip. Robby just blushed, and she figured that meant he was thinking the same thing. She'd smirk at Jason, stretching a bit, showing off for his approval and make some comment or another, turning it into what he wanted, which was just teasing anyway, as everyone knew she was Robby's girl. But really it was just a nervous habit.

She fiddled with the piece of paper some more, running her fingers along it, tracing the letters on the page with one finger. She shrugged, irritated and grabbed her lighter, starting to light one edge, then stopped with the flame flickering in her hand. She put it out and tossed both lighter and letter on her bed among the stuffed animals and her new Garbage CD. She found she couldn't actually burn it. At least not sober. There were pills in her vitamin jar, and she started to take one, when a picture caught her eye. Taped up in the corner of her dresser mirror, it was usually covered with a hat or her feather boa, or a pair of stockings tossed up there. They'd all fallen aside, or been cleaned by her mother in a fit of hope. And there was the picture.

She put the bottle down with a sigh and rubbed at her temples. Her school uniform was tossed on the floor. She picked it up and moved it to the hamper. Then she was cleaning everything, putting it away furiously. She was surprised to feel her cheeks wet with tears. She went back to the letter, staring at it and slowly sitting on the bed. When she glanced up at the mirror she frowned to see the black traces down her cheeks. She scrubbed at them, just smearing it more. With a sigh, she got up and moved to the bathroom, scrubbing her face clean. She was pale, her eyes a bit too red when she stared back at them in the mirror. The blue seemed duller. Her mouth tasted like stale cigarettes and she brushed her teeth twice. Three times.

She put her make up back on, slowly, and sparingly, covering the redness, adding some color. But no eyeliner. Just one coat of a Christmas-y lipstick. She pulled off the black jeans and the too low cut top, tossing them in the hamper as well, then found a black velvet skirt and a green silk blouse. She brushed the knots from her hair, letting it fall down her back in waves. She even put a headband in.

Moving back to the bed, she looked at the letter again. Leaving the lighter there, she moved to her desk. She checked a box. She signed her name.

She carried it downstairs and placed it under the tree on top of her father's presents. Her mother came in, glancing at her in surprise when she saw how she was dressed.

"Keelia?"

Glancing up from wher she was kneeling, Keelia smiled slightly. "I thought maybe I could come to midnight mass with you."

Her mother tried not to grin too much. "I think that would be nice."

"I'll just go get my coat then." She hurried back upstairs.

Curious, her mother crossed to the tree and picked up the piece of paper. When Keelia's father came in a few minutes later, she was sitting on the couch, staring at it, and crying slightly. She held it out to him.

"She left this for you."

He took it, looking at it, afraid of the worst, then smiled slowly.

It was an acceptance letter from NYU. The box marked "Yes, I will be attending in the Fall of 1997" had a shaky check mark beside it.

Storytime!

Jun. 23rd, 2005 01:15 am
cuimhinliom: (I'm Not innocent -- past)
Once upon a time there was a beautiful fairy princess with eyes the color of sapphires. Her beauty was acclaimed throughout Ireland and she won the heart of a handsome fairy king, and they loved as few before them had ever loved. They were denied their happy ever after by a cruel trick of fate, cursed to be parted throughout time.

But this is not their story.

One day, millennia later, the beautiful fairy princess would be reborn as the pretty daughter of doting parents in a town in the New World called Boston. She would grow up, loved and safe, and venture out into the world to tell stories and teach the next generation of storytellers. She would meet her prince again, and it is only fitting that in the New World a new element would be added, a new prince, and the curse maybe finally broken. Because while the mortal world circles around binaries, everyone knows that three is the number of the gods.

But this is not our their story either.

For in between the princess and the schoolteacher were many other girls with sapphire eyes and red curls. And each one of them has a story to tell of life and love and magic and tragedy and dreams of happy ever after.

This is Katie's story. Katie, who lived in Ireland, and loved, not her green eyed fairy prince, at least not at first, but rather a handsome rakehell of a merchant's son. A bonny brown-eyed boy named Liam.

Katie wasn't a princess. )

ooc: After re-watching "The Prodigal," I couldn't resist. All dialogue between Katie and Darla is directly from the episode, written by Tim Minear. Liam/Angel and Darla belong to Joss Whedon, et al. The rest is mine. ;)

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Keelia Gallagher / Étáin

January 2010

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