More snippets from original story
Feb. 1st, 2011 12:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starlightsaoirseThis is just a snippet. Requires a bit more knowledge, but eh. From somewhere in the middle, ish. Strong language contained within. Fiona comes off sort of horribly in this, but in her defense, she's had a rough couple of days immediately prior.
To aid in immediate understanding, Charlie is a ghillie dubh, a sort of forest spirit; Cúchulainn is Fi's dog.
"So. What you're telling me is that I'm part fae and part selkie, and because I stood on some
fucking rock in Cork I've called every mythological beastie in who-knows-what-mile radius to me?"
"I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but yes. Essentially."
"And Oisín is not only fae, but the son of the king and queen of the Seelie Court?"
"Ah, yes?" Charlie was looking at me a little warily now.
"Fuck."
"Pardon?"
"Fuck." I buried my head in my hands. "C'mon, Cúchulainn. We're going home. And I'm getting drunk."
"Fiona, do you really think--"
"Charlie, just shut up. Thank you. But póg mo thóin, okay? I need time to deal with all this. If that means that just tonight, I get blind drunk in the security of my own home, well, I've bloody well earned it, I think."
Charlie looked dubious, but said nothing. Cúchulainn just whined quietly as he followed me back to the car.
----
God bless girlfriends. Maria didn't even ask questions. (What would I have said, anyway? The possibilities only made the migraine growing behind my eyes do a showy tap number.) She just took one look at me and pulled out the tequila, pouring shot after shot for me while staying sober herself so that she could drive me home after I had gotten myself thoroughly pissed. An angel among women, that girl.
----
I stumbled up the stairs, giggling to myself as I grasped the metal railing. I dropped one of my shoes and swore as it tumbled down a couple of stairs--why the bloody hell was I carrying them, anyway, instead of wearing them, like a sensible person? I thought hard about that, but couldn't recall. A short venture back down the stairs to retrieve my shoe, and then I dizzily continued back up. I fumbled briefly with my keys and then was in my apartment.
It took me a moment, swaying on my feet as I was, to notice Oisín on my couch, Cúchulainn curled happily around his feet. I scowled.
"I lock my door for a reason, you know."
"The patio door was unlocked." A smile played at his lips. He stood slowly, easing away from the couch so as to not disturb my sleeping dog.
"The patio--? I live on the third floor!" I threw one of my shoes at him.
He raised his eyebrows. "Are you drunk?"
"Don't you change the subject, Goblin King. We were talking about your inability to enter a home like a normal human being--"
"Which, I would like to point out, I am not--"
"Isn't there some rule against that? Like, you can't enter peoples' homes uninvited?"
"That's vampires."
I clapped my hand over his mouth. His eyes went wide. I may have hit him a bit harder than I'd intended.
"Don't," I told him. "Not another word. About vampires. If I learn that one more supposedly mythological creature is real, I will need more shots. And I am already going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow." His eyes were mostly laughing at me, I thought, but maybe there was a touch of real concern there.
And maybe I was very drunk.
"Deal?"
He nodded, and I dropped my hand and dropped onto the couch. "Since you're invading my home, why don't you make yourself useful and go get me a glass of water?"
Oisín seemed amused. "Whatever you require, milady."
I rolled my eyes at him as he made a show of it, but at least he got me the fucking water.
---
The next morning, I woke up in my bed with a dull pounding in my head and no clear recollection of how I ended up tucked beneath my covers. Whimpering, I rolled on my side and saw a bottle of water, two pills, and a note. I gratefully swallowed the painkillers and a fair amount of the water before looking at the note.
A Stóirín,
Here is wishing your hangover is not so dire as you predicted it would be last night. I must ask that the next time you plan to get that drunk you invite me along, if only for my own amusement, if not your own safety.
I'll be waiting for you at the coffee shop today.
Oisín
I smiled, taking another sip of water, and then snuggled back into my blankets. It wouldn't hurt him to wait a while longer, Seelie prince or no.
To aid in immediate understanding, Charlie is a ghillie dubh, a sort of forest spirit; Cúchulainn is Fi's dog.
"So. What you're telling me is that I'm part fae and part selkie, and because I stood on some
fucking rock in Cork I've called every mythological beastie in who-knows-what-mile radius to me?"
"I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but yes. Essentially."
"And Oisín is not only fae, but the son of the king and queen of the Seelie Court?"
"Ah, yes?" Charlie was looking at me a little warily now.
"Fuck."
"Pardon?"
"Fuck." I buried my head in my hands. "C'mon, Cúchulainn. We're going home. And I'm getting drunk."
"Fiona, do you really think--"
"Charlie, just shut up. Thank you. But póg mo thóin, okay? I need time to deal with all this. If that means that just tonight, I get blind drunk in the security of my own home, well, I've bloody well earned it, I think."
Charlie looked dubious, but said nothing. Cúchulainn just whined quietly as he followed me back to the car.
----
God bless girlfriends. Maria didn't even ask questions. (What would I have said, anyway? The possibilities only made the migraine growing behind my eyes do a showy tap number.) She just took one look at me and pulled out the tequila, pouring shot after shot for me while staying sober herself so that she could drive me home after I had gotten myself thoroughly pissed. An angel among women, that girl.
----
I stumbled up the stairs, giggling to myself as I grasped the metal railing. I dropped one of my shoes and swore as it tumbled down a couple of stairs--why the bloody hell was I carrying them, anyway, instead of wearing them, like a sensible person? I thought hard about that, but couldn't recall. A short venture back down the stairs to retrieve my shoe, and then I dizzily continued back up. I fumbled briefly with my keys and then was in my apartment.
It took me a moment, swaying on my feet as I was, to notice Oisín on my couch, Cúchulainn curled happily around his feet. I scowled.
"I lock my door for a reason, you know."
"The patio door was unlocked." A smile played at his lips. He stood slowly, easing away from the couch so as to not disturb my sleeping dog.
"The patio--? I live on the third floor!" I threw one of my shoes at him.
He raised his eyebrows. "Are you drunk?"
"Don't you change the subject, Goblin King. We were talking about your inability to enter a home like a normal human being--"
"Which, I would like to point out, I am not--"
"Isn't there some rule against that? Like, you can't enter peoples' homes uninvited?"
"That's vampires."
I clapped my hand over his mouth. His eyes went wide. I may have hit him a bit harder than I'd intended.
"Don't," I told him. "Not another word. About vampires. If I learn that one more supposedly mythological creature is real, I will need more shots. And I am already going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow." His eyes were mostly laughing at me, I thought, but maybe there was a touch of real concern there.
And maybe I was very drunk.
"Deal?"
He nodded, and I dropped my hand and dropped onto the couch. "Since you're invading my home, why don't you make yourself useful and go get me a glass of water?"
Oisín seemed amused. "Whatever you require, milady."
I rolled my eyes at him as he made a show of it, but at least he got me the fucking water.
---
The next morning, I woke up in my bed with a dull pounding in my head and no clear recollection of how I ended up tucked beneath my covers. Whimpering, I rolled on my side and saw a bottle of water, two pills, and a note. I gratefully swallowed the painkillers and a fair amount of the water before looking at the note.
A Stóirín,
Here is wishing your hangover is not so dire as you predicted it would be last night. I must ask that the next time you plan to get that drunk you invite me along, if only for my own amusement, if not your own safety.
I'll be waiting for you at the coffee shop today.
Oisín
I smiled, taking another sip of water, and then snuggled back into my blankets. It wouldn't hurt him to wait a while longer, Seelie prince or no.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 06:35 pm (UTC)... goblin king? so oisin is seelie prince and goblin king? oo. it feels complicated, but i may just be lacking in sleep. :/
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 03:04 am (UTC)he's not goblin king. she's being rude. and comparing him to david bowie. i guess that didn't quite translate. i think she does that on other occasions, too.
i am so in over my head with this story, morghan. like, really. i am so fucked.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-02 01:33 pm (UTC)i'm so completely unaware of bowie. but that's why it ends up being cautioned against to add pop culture references into a book. it dates the book. imagine reading a book where the main (female) character is considered fashionable for wearing a fanny pack, shorts with tights beneath them, and suits of all types (blazer + skirt, blazer + pants, blazer + shorts). the last time that looked anywhere near fashionable was late eighties, early nineties. the character is WAY dated.