A/N: OMG I went to watch Shoshana Bean and Brad Little perform two nights ago, and when they started singing 'Seasons of Love' from RENT, i started hyperventilating till i nearly fainted on my friend beside me and after that i spazzed until the whole row i was seated in started to shake like an earthquake :] Guess that's the effect when you put Elphaba and the Phantom together. I still scream every time i think of it.
Okay enough with my fangirling rant. Here's another story (AGAIN - damn i should really get one of those multichaps done) i thought of in bed - the place where all the thinking happens.
In short: it was a mess.
In detail: Crops lay damaged everywhere, and wood splints were splayed across the fields. Broken farmers wept over their lost as they cleared up whatever was left of their harvest, and wary housewives took tentative steps out from under the shelter of their roofs, into the havoc the tornado had wreaked.
The Witch balanced on the edge of the wind, surveying the scene around her. Had it not been for the grief of her sister's death, Elphaba might've actually found the scenery quite...entrancing. The sunset sky was iridescent, streaks of purple and orange stretching across the horizon. With the farming and marketing industries temporarily stalled, the land below was peaceful and silent, with only an occasional gentle breeze passing by, rustling the leaves of the few remain crops scattered across the now almost barren fields.
She spotted the center of destruction: the blasted house. Even as she came closer to the wrecked up structure she still would not believe her sister was dead.
Her little sister was dead.
Nessarose was dead.
No matter how many times she replayed that sentence in her head, no matter how many ways she could rephrase it, it still sent that cold shock and sting of pain through her aching heart. Nothing could subdue that guilt she felt of betrayal she'd shown to Nessa. She'd been nothing but selfish since she defied gravity, thinking only of herself and not how her sister ever felt, being implicated as the sister of the Wicked Witch of the West. Sure, she's flown off the handle when she'd attempted to win over Boq, but it had been her fault as well, in some way. When Frex had died, Nessa could only cling to Boq for love; Elphaba hadn't been there to love her when no one else could.
She veered her broomstick to her destination, and landed with the grace of a cat, as silent as the grave. Dismounting, she peered through an opening in the cluster of plants, a pile of profanities rising up her throat as she spotted Glinda conversing with the owner of the house: Dorothy Gale. A glint of sunlight sparkled off the girl's feet, and Elphaba had to bite her lips till they bled to prevent that horrid string from escaping. Nessa's shoes.
Then Glinda sent the farm brat down the cursed Yellow Brick Road, and Elphaba had half the mind to go after the girl and scream at her to return Nessa's shoes. But she resisted, only to find her lunch arise to her mouth as Glinda picked a bouquet of flowers, resting it in front of the house.
"What a touching display of grief," Elphaba sneered, unable to take this false show of compassion any longer.
Glinda stood abruptly, trying to hide the surprise and shock. "I believe we have nothing more to say to each other," she said rigidly as she stuck up her chin, unwilling to show despondency.
"I wanted something to remember her by, and the only thing left of her were those shoes," growled Elphaba. "And now that wretched little farm girl has walked off with them!"
She drew in a breath, trying to limit her anger - she intended to save it for Dorothy. "So I'd appreciate some time," she said slowly, not taking her eyes of the blonde, "to say goodbye to my sister."
Glinda backed off, getting the message.
Elphaba crumpled upon the ground, her body trembling with grief. "Oh Nessa...forgive me..."
It's all your fault, nagged a voice at the back of her mind, All your fault...
At this point, Elphaba felt she'd do anything to make up for her selfishness. Oh, what can i do, Nessa?
Avenge, said the voice again, don't let them get away with it. Make them pay. Make them all pay.
"Don't blame yourself," came Glinda's voice. Elphaba felt a sudden surge of annoyance at the sound of the blonde. "It is dreadful, to have a house fall on you...but, accidents do happen..."
"You call this, an accident?" asked Elphaba incredulously.
"Well, maybe not an accident - "
"Oh?" Elphaba raised an eyebrow. "Then what would you call it then?"
"A-a regime change?" stuttered Glinda, shrinking under the death glare Elphaba gave her, thanking Lurline looks did not kill, "Caused by a bizarre and u-unexpected twister of fate!"
"So you think cyclones just appear out of the blue?" yelled Elphaba, springing to her feet.
"Well, I don't know, I - "
"Of course you won't," spat Elphaba. "You're too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is. Too caught up pulling wool over their eyes and blinding them to the mess of Oz's bureaucracy!"
"I am a public figure now!" shot back Glinda. "People expect me to - "
"To lie?" Yes, that's all she's ever done. Lied to me, lied to you. Wait, the voice was talking in third person...whose voice was this inside her head?
"To be encouraging!" the Good Witch squeaked, slamming down her wand indignantly.
Elphaba couldn't help but liken her attitude to one of a petty child throwing a tantrum when she didn't get what she wanted.
"And what have you been doing?" continued Glinda. "Besides riding around on that filthy old thing?"
Elphaba rubbed the end of the broomstick. "Well, we can't all come and go by bubble, can we?" she snapped in exasperation. "Whose idea was it? The Wizard's? Even if it wasn't I'm sure he'd still take credit for it."
"Oh, all taking things that don't belong to us now, aren't we?"
Elphaba gritted her teeth. Yes, she's the one who stole Boq's heart away. Make her pay.
"I can just imagine the difficulty for that dumb blonde brain of yours to comprehend that he would actually choose someone like me!" she hissed. "But face it Glinda, he doesn't love you, he loves me."
There was a stinging pain on her cheek as Glinda's hand made contact.
Something came over Elphaba in that moment. Realization struck, and suddenly it was all clear to her. Glinda, the popular girl, the one with all the glitz and glamour, was jealous of her, a green-skinned outcast with unprepossessing features. Elphaba couldn't bear the irony, so she let it out with a good witch-like cackle.
She finished it quickly, abruptly straightening and facing the blonde. "Happy now?" she asked nonchalantly.
Glinda lifted her chin defiantly. "Yes, I suppose i am."
"Good." Elphaba brought her hand down on one of Glinda's porcelain-like cheeks. "Then so am I."
Glinda gasped in angry shock of being slapped, and assumed a fighting stance, a spark of hurt flickering in her eyes.
Make her pay...give her what she deserves.
Elphaba narrowed her eyes. Yes, she'd make Glinda sorry for everything she'd done.
She'd make all of them sorry.
A/N: Should i continue?