Absynthea

= The Green Fairy... =

Green, all was green to her. Perpetually lost in an absinthe mist. Lost? Perhaps not so much lost as adrift. Ebbing and flowing back and forth from lucidity to the ether. One might mistake the dreamy girl for a drug addict, or even an alcoholic. Yet to be around her for any length of time would prove otherwise. True she indulged in her beloved absinthe, but it was naught but a pleasant additive to an underlying condition. She likes to say that her busy bee came on green fairy wings, and perhaps that is just so. She is a friendly enough sort, or at least attempts to be. This is not to say that the viewer of dreams cannot defend herself. No. If one were to see her angered or afraid, they would see the green as well. Focused to glowing emerald claws. She has recently been gifted with a lovely necklace. A delicate silver chain holding an emerald colored stone with flecks of ember. Hexagonal cut and inserted to an intricate design. If one were to touch it, the would feel a soft warmth radiating from it. = The Monotone Years =

Abigail was born to wealth and privilege. Parents inheritors of old money, with the snobby upper class attitude that went with it. Their daughter a status symbol, a perfect princess to show off to their friends. She had the most prestigious tutors, attended the most elite schools. She was lavished in material excess, ceaselessly praised and placed on a pedestal. Surrounded by idolaters and lackeys. Still, she grew to feel something was missing. In public she would wear the mask, play royalty, but in private she began to shun such things. She had found escape in books. A library in her family home, vast and unused. Merely for show until she near took up residence within. Her parents paid no heed, as long as she attended all the dinner parties and soirees. As long as she smiled and curtseyed, they would indulge her every fancy. She found herself spending every free moment in that library. Fairy tales and fantasies, adventures and incredible journeys. Grimm, Aesop, Anderson, Carroll. Shakespeare, Twain, Dickens, Homer. The more she read, the less content she was with her life. Her eyes opening to the path she was on. Seeing the empty praises, unearned privilege. The false friends and hanger's on. Her entire life began to seem as one hollow mockery. She fell to a deep malaise. Her parents lavished her with more gifts in attempt to rouse her from her depression. Their mild concern soon becoming worry. Not so much for her well being, as for appearances. They simply could not have it known that princess was depressed. Amidst it all, she recessed deeper and deeper to her mind. Somewhere deep, her very spirit knew there had to be more. Then one night came her bee, opening her eyes, and ending monotone days.

=Awakened to the Green =

That morning found her bouncing from her bed, far more alive than she had ever felt before. A song on her lips as she skipped and danced about the sterile estate. Her parents did not know what to make of her. At first they were pleased she seemed better spirits, but that quickly fell aside as they watched her prance about. She was speaking in odd fanciful manner, hardly proper speech, and the things she would say, one could hardly discern! They cajoled and begged, desperate to get her to act normal. They could not send her to a psychiatrist, how would that look? Finally, they could stand it no longer. They sat her down and told her she must leave. Not just her home, but France itself. They would not be known as the parents of the mad princess! They gave her a credit card, linked to their vast fortunes. She would want for nothing, provided she never brought shame to the family name. They would inform their circles that she had gone traveling abroad, still the same old proper princess. She accepted the bribe, preferring the payoff to the threats of being placed in asylum. Besides, she heard a song calling her away. With hardly another thought, she left behind her old life and made her way to London. It was not long before she was visited by the Templar. Those she saw as Lord Knights, who took her in to their order. All they requested of her was that she give them any writings and drawing she might produce. She agreed, and now often finds those she calls gatherers on her doorstep. Sometimes unbidden, she even returns to find them within her hotel room. Unconcerned for material things, she seems to pay them no mind, allowing them free reign to take what they wish. Perhaps they see more in her musings and fancies than she can see. She doesn't know if her visions and fantasies are real, her mind far too clouded most times. Another thing she does not know, is that the Templar greatly suspect her of being more than a simple bee-graced human. No, they suspect that perhaps she is indeed a fae spirit in human form, merely awoken by the encounter with the bee. For while she has the usual bee given abilities, her emerald vision is something completely different.