NB: I do not own the Moulin Rouge or any of the characters involved. However, I think I can claim ownership of my portrayal of Absinthe, because the film doesn't exactly give a whole lot of depth or development into the green fairy (ou la feé verte)'s character. Enjoy!


She watches over the dance floor of the Moulin Rouge, smiling almost cruelly. Oh, yes, she has done well this evening. The night is still young and already nearly everyone is intoxicated by the heady blend of the presence of la feé verte herself and the atmosphere inside the club. Dancing couples whirl, skirts fly out into brightly coloured flowers. The whole picture resembles some kind of technicolour hallucination.

Which is exactly what she intended all along.

She frowns; nothing is happening. It is boring her. She flutters down from the rafters, soaring over the heads of the dancers, scattering the intoxicating green sparks in her wake, like a bridesmaid scatters petals. She wills them to dance faster and faster, and they obey her. After all, it is her domain here, and she is their queen. Colours blend into each other, like wet paint, forming kaleidoscopic patterns which dance for joy under the strange, flashing lights.

She smiles that strange smile again. She is weak in the daytime, in the civilised world, but at night, here, in this labyrinth of pleasure, dance, colours and sweat, she has her revenge. Here, she is all-powerful. She throws her head back and laughs, feeding off the sense of her own power over them. She wills them to dance, and they dance.

Suddenly, there is silence, and Satine's voice cuts through the smoky air. She does not mind, because Satine only adds to their awe, their energy, their anticipation. She settles down to watch, stretching her gauzy emerald wings.

Everything up to now has gone as it should, but something is wrong. She can feel it. Satine gasps, falls. She frowns. Satine's fate is of little interest to her, but shock dampens the electric buzz of the atmosphere.

Now she is angry. Something from the outside world is trying to interfere here, in her place.

She will have her revenge. No one interferes with her.

And so Absinthe, la feé verte, capricious spirit of dance, of sin, of the night, of pleasures, the addiction, the obsession of so many already, vows to continue to lure more and more people in, to bind them to her, until she is satisfied.

She will not rest until they all belong to her.

They will learn to fear her.


Wow, that turned out... weirder than I thought it would. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed it!