Ceilidh attends MarTech because it's one of the few schools where she can double major in computer science and creative writing, with a minor in parapsychology. Keeps her busy.
Ceilidh's a natural empath; that is, she can read even strangers' emotions with uncanny accuracy. When she's tired, drunk, or extremely upset, this ability can and does go extremely haywire, resulting in various minor emotional explosions.
Ceilidh got her name when her grandmother noticed her constant laughter, as a baby, sounded very musical, as if she was singing instead of laughing. 'Ceilidh' means singing or singer. Although she rarely laughs that way now, sometimes you can still hear that clear musical laugh when she's being very open.
Ceilidh's your typical upper-middle-class eldest child. She's rarely wanted for anything, and lived a fairly normal life. Her family doesn't have any serious problems, although she hates being the odd one out, the one who's not quite in sync with the rest of the family. But they all love each other, and Ceilidh is pretty much normal in that area. She's been at MarTech for 2 years now and is entering her junior year.
Ceilidh darted around a corner and slammed her door behind her, fumbling at the inside lock. She slid down the door, panting, holding her sides, eyes closed. Tears spilled out from under the closed lids. Sobs began to break loose from the tight control she held over herself. She opened her eyes to darkness and something inside her screamed. Stumbling to her feet, she snapped on the light and flung herself on the bed, crying softly. "How could he? How could he? Why did you do this to me?!" Over and over she repeated the litany. "I thought you liked me … I was sure I had another friend … how could you do this to me?" She moaned to the empty air.
Memories rolled her under, sucking her back into the maelstrom of pity and fury. So kind, he was, so gentle, so foolish she to fall so fast for someone who gave her what she thought she wanted. She had met Jesse in class, noticed him because he walking in late. Felt flattered because he had sought her out afterward. Each poured out half of their lives to the other in the first night, oh stayed up so late they did, all night and saw the dawn the next day they talked so long. More fool she, to tell him she wondered what it would be like to kiss him, much less let him do it. Even worse, to believe him when he said, I wanted it too. Deeper and deeper under his spell she fell, in a week no less, all but entrapped in the first few days. Run to him with the fury, try to help him with his pain, nihao, his PAIN that she could feel like it was her own. And then, to find out that he was only using her, only playing with her to ease that pain and yet she knew that it did nothing for him and still she longed for him, missed that friendship …
Hours, or maybe mere minutes later, Ceilidh rolled over, pressing her cheek against the cold metal of her henshin rod. Trustable, useful, the one place where she was consistently needed, as a Sailor Senshi. Just this once, she hoped for an enemy, someone else she could release the anger and hurt on. "Cancel that thought, Ceilidh," she muttered to herself. Just because she was hurting was no reason to become angry with him. The true hell of it was the she understood his motives almost perfectly and truly wasn't angry. "Damn you, Jesse, you made me care and now I can't hate you."
She scrubbed the sticky tightness of tears off her face and sat down at the computer, intending to record her thoughts and feelings in poem form. Half an hour later, she was singing along with the mp3s lustily and making headway on a second poem. In between one note and the next, the very air seemed to change, becoming more oppressive and heavy. She broke off mid-word, hands automatically reaching for the henshin rod. Rapidly, hands no longer trembling after 15, 16 repetitions of this scene, these movements, she saved her work, locked the door behind her, slipped unseen out of the building. There was a conveniently placed stand of trees not 10 feet from the door.
"Apollo Power, make-up!"