The faint ticklings of tipsiness playing on her ribs, for that's where the alcohol always went. Not her head. Not her gut, so that she was always logical.
She did not feel sick. She would not feel sick. The others were gone, veering sharply left, nearly into a pole, exaggerated movements, giggling. The blind leading the blind. Elphaba stared past her friends, thinking of other things.
"Elphie." It was Glinda, flouncing over and obscuring her view. Maybe because her heart lay inside her ribs she couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of compassion for the girl. Rum instead of blood, making lovers of us all. She had a funny idea of turning such a thought into an actual experiment, though as happens when intoxicated, it wasn't funny at all. It was serious. Genius. In a quick haze just behind the eyeballs she saw the inner workings that must have been happening in real time—drink sliding off the bone, in steady sequential drips, the tips of one's ribs wrapping around and falling inward, towards the heart, as was destined. Sperm meeting egg. A golden halo upon touch and transfer. She didn't think her inner musings would turn religious, yet here they were.
She imagined the ribs of animals. Or, Animals, as it wouldn't be ethical, forcing a drink down say a rabbit's throat. The ribs of a Tiger, a Monkey. A Goat. A flash of sadness, then back to logic. Would they hold more of the gold? Being porous, being larger. Rotund. Would the dribble fly fast; the increased momentum, made inevitable by the pronounced curvature of marrow? Did Animals love more?
"Eeelphieee," Glinda said again, teetering in the slightest. Elphaba smiled softly, her eyes tired, snapped back into this existence. The poor lost girl, she thought. She couldn't imagine losing Nanny (there she was in the near background, helping an especially uncoordinated Nessarose stay upright). Such a thought horrified her. She suddenly realized that if asked, she would do anything for the girl. She was perhaps drunker than she thought.
"I wanna go to the Philosophy Cluuubbb," she whined, playing with Elphaba's fingers.
Though not that drunk.
"No. I said it before and I meant what I said."
"You're no fun."
"And this is news?"
Glinda blew a raspberry, letting go of her fingers and tilting over towards Boq and crew.
"Hey gang," she said, suddenly sneezing. Glinda rubbed her nose dry. She made her voice lower, the boys instinctually leaning in. "I'm going."
"So are we. Avaric's waking a cabbie," whispered Crope.
"Why are we whispering?" whispered Boq.
"Because my dear roomie is trying to banish me. We'll have to be quick." She hiccupped. "'Scuse me."
"Is Nessa coming?" asked Tibbett.
"No, I saw Nanny take her away."
"Fiyero?"
"Oh yes he's coming. Now shhh, get ready..."
They giggled and Elphaba watched the whole thing, amazed at their stupidity, however charming it was. They moved in unison, like a herd of sheep, fixed in their circle so that only half could see where they were going. They bumped into a lamp post and someone laughed, loud, the others shushing harshly though more for themselves, lest they laugh too. They really, truly believed they were getting somewhere, Elphie realized, though there was Avaric and Fiyero with the cab, looking confused.
"What the hell are you guys doing? Just walk like normal people. Yoo-hoo! We're over here!" Avaric waved his arms. Fiyero next to him looked like he needed to pee, though had forgotten his Unnamed God given right to pissing in the street. Elphaba went to go get the blonde, at last having seen enough—and having rehearsed her line enough times, about them pivoting for the Emerald City.
She was gearing herself, when the unexpected happened, freezing her in her tracks—the sudden boom of thunder, the sky lighting. She no longer felt anything but nauseous panic. The sound of rain.
It ate up the street; it rattled her out of her daze and had her running for the cab, avoiding the wet like it were fire (it would only faintly get the top of her head).
Throwing herself into the backseat she heaved relief, cursing herself for not bringing an umbrella, the others piling in after her, singing a merry tune: "We're going to the cluuub! We're going to the cluuub!" Elphaba grumbled, although there was Glinda, giving her sympathetic looks, and who with the meat of her palm was gingerly wiping the few drops of rain off her scalp, knowing Elphie would be unable to do so.
"Oh, Elphie," she said amongst the two of them, going to check the tips of her ears. "We'll have fun." A smile that could only mean seriousness and understanding. Elphaba exhaled through her nose.
"Yes, I guess you could say avoiding one's untimely death could be considered rather fun," she said, elbow propped and looking out the window. Though Glinda only rolled her eyes and went to reapply her lipstick, asking Crope for his opinion.
"Lovely as always. Kiss me so you can do mine?" They kissed and the transfer was made, though messily of course. "How do I look?" He puckered his lips towards Tibbett, posing awkwardly within the confines of the space.
"Horrid."
Glinda laughed airily; Elphaba couldn't help but grin, the rain beating down.
The cobbled streets were endlessly shiny by the time they'd arrived. A scattering of spilled coins, absorbing the lights from signs, to make a red here, a gold there. It had looked like an impressionist's painting, mirrored and dribbly.
The others tumbled out like carnies while she stayed back, wary. Elphie listened for rainwater, heard nothing, and stuck a tentative finger out. She felt nothing. The irony was strong. She felt braver and leaned forward out of the cab to crane her neck to look up at the sky. It was a deep royal blue, cloudless.
"Oh Elphie dear stay that way you look like a photograph," said Crope, squinting one eye and boxing her into a rectangle. "If only I had my sketchpad with me."
"You don't sketch," said Boq, hands in pockets. Alcohol made him cooler. A balloon could have been held in his lower back with how much he was casually leaning backward, his thumbs hooked outside his pockets. His persona looked cool in a stereotypical yet effective way, though on the inside he was panicking. Glinda was only a few feet away. She'd be going to the Philosophy Club with them. That scared him—excited him—more than the club's content ever could. No, he needn't get too stupidly cocky. Avaric had been once before and from his stories (which Boq had tried to ignore) the club was its own beast. He was scared. He was aroused. Elphaba stifled a laugh.
"And you look ready to fall over with how much you're leaning, lover boy," and he made to tip Boq over with just the push of his pointer finger. Boq scrambled to his feet, soldier-style in an instant. "Ooh, attentive," Crope winked. He was flirtier than usual, Elphaba noticed. She was fascinated by all of it, who her friends were at this odd hour. Collecting data. She was always collecting data. She waited for what would happen next, now at last getting out of the cab and smoothing her skirt. She was not thinking of the Emerald City, not now; another time, another day. She'd go herself if she needed to.
She watched as Avaric counted heads, his arm muscular. She felt a flash of attraction—it disappeared the moment he opened his mouth to yell at them to stay still (Pfannee and Shenshen were giggly and playing tag) and it wouldn't reappear again that night, or at all, much to her relief. Avaric was a leader. He was stuffed with booze, though it did not affect him like it did the others. He was far from being an angry drunk; no, he was just annoyed. It hardly surprised her.
Though on the inside, a complicated little boy, who strived for perfectionism. Who did not want to let the night down. Who had to go all the way in order to feel something.
Elphaba's head hurt.
"Guys! We're heading in," Avie directed them.
Glinda appeared beside her.
"Hi." She casually slipped her hand into Elphie's, thinking nothing of it, and proceeded to blab about anything.
They shuffled along, stopping to pay the crone in her booth. She was old and looked ghastly, fashion wise, too many bangles and sequins, a preview for what would come. She smiled toothily at them, her few teeth yellowed, inspecting them all.
"You look like a nice lot. I'm letting you in for free." She handed Avaric the tickets—nine "nine-of-diamonds"—and winked.
"We were going to have to pay?" asked Fiyero, not too quietly, receiving an elbow from Shenshen.
Elphie hadn't noticed any of the exchange, nothing about "house rules" or "tickets," what with Glinda holding her hand and yapping her ear off. She hadn't even noticed the witch and all her tackiness until she'd locked eyes with Elphie, smiled, and had said "Nothing a little rain can't fix." Elphaba twisted around to see if she were going crazy, for the woman's lips had not moved.
"Oh Elphie we're going to have so much fun!" Glinda squeezed.
"But I-"
The door shut. "Heh," huffed up Yackle, scratching her forearm with her nails. Her work here was done—they were in.
Avaric gave Elphie her ticket. She tried peering into his eyes again, to see what she thought she could. But everything was too fast now, the others getting swept up and away by the sudden explosion of light and smoke and sex.
Elphaba herself felt it too; it had not unnerved her as much as she thought it would. A part of her almost felt let down. For there were Animals, their sex hanging out, unashamed. Though it felt no different than from the women and men.
A woman just then with charcoal eyes stared seductively into her, slinking by, a moment now gone. Elphaba saw everything though, and blushed.
"I think I need another drink," said a very wide-eyed Glinda. Oh that was right. They were still holding hands.
"You think?" Just then, a Sheep wearing nothing but heels strutted by, as casual as could be, with a very submissive-looking Wolf at the end of her lead.
"What the hell was that. Yes, I need one very much. I'll be right back." She fled before Elphaba could protest, melding in with the crowd. Alone now, Elphie felt her neck prickle with nerves.
Something very odd was happening, something she had not prepared for. She was being looked at in a whole new way, by strangers she'd never met.
Wafting through, she made eye contact with one of the strippers, their pale skin spilling out over the tight strips of vinyl. She was up on a platform, the cords to her stilettos ribboning up her legs, creating lattices.
She winked at Elphie, blowing her a kiss—but Elphaba was pleased to find that really, the girl was much too busy thinking of the leftovers she had waiting at home. Hah!
But that did not mean there weren't others. A tall broad-shouldered man with nipple piercings (she had never seen nipple piercings before) came up to her.
"Hey," he smiled, supposedly leaning on air.
"Hey," she said back, in the same dullard tone. But her heart, with the gold, was betraying her. She was flattered.
"I don't think I've ever seen you before. What brings you here to Philly?"
Oh so the club has a nickname. Cute.
"You'd know if you'd seen me." She adjusted herself, arms across chest, fidgeting with the tip of her elbow. "Research," she lied, only partially. She could tell he had found that funny—humbled was she to realize that she needn't peer deep into his soul to have found out, for he had smiled, anyway.
"Maybe I can help," he had said suggestively.
"Maybe I'll go on sabbatical," and she left, annoyed.
She turned and there was Boq.
"Elphie! Oh thank Oz."
"I see the alcohol's worn off."
"Indeed. Did you see that Sheep with the—?"
"Hard to miss. Come, let's peruse." She linked her arm with his and they both felt better. They walked some, Elphaba taking in the ceiling for the first time. It was tiled mirror. Boq did the same. They stared at themselves.
An old sagging witch in a tight bejeweled corset (her breasts looked to be rock hard; she shined like an abstract rainbow, her lipstick put on messily) was performing on top a stage, turning oranges into pineapples. Theatrics, Elphaba thought.
"I saw her earlier. She says she's a Kumbric Witch," said Boq, believing.
"Hah! If she's a Kumbric Witch then I'm Lurlina herself." Now she was spraying champagne out into the audience, them all with their tongues out, only for the spray to turn into bubbles at the very last second; them all spitting, most of them in good spirits, except for the Lion who had roared, feeling disrespected. The witch said "Be cool, big cat," snapping her fingers. She went into a tap routine, and with Elphie watching, said: "I didn't know the Fairy Queen herself would be here for my show. Oh how lucky I am." Like the ticketer, her mouth had stayed closed; they'd both been able to communicate with her.
The Witch was grinning, though not maliciously. Elphaba went a deeper green and felt many things at once. "Schooled," mostly.
A gaggle of elves bounced by, each no more than a couple feet tall—and they were green Boq noticed, green just like their Elphie.
He poked her excitedly. She lazily looked, still a little dazed.
"Was the birth hard?" he ragged. She sobered.
"Oh clever, clever boy!" But from Boq it was somehow endearing, and she found herself laughing, low and hearty. "Ohhh I need a drink."
"Me too," he said with a sigh, peering around, and stopping—
They both saw it. Glinda, dancing.
Boq could have swooned. Elphaba felt something in her, too. It must have been the feeling of familiarity—their Glinda, in a black dress (oh, right. It had been a funeral). Someone they knew, someone they could add to their posse. Strength in numbers. Though Elphaba suddenly did not want Boq there with them. It confused her; she needed a drink.
Glinda danced like she were the only one there, throwing her head back, her curls following, her arm out, her hip mimicking. It was not to the music, it was to the space. She never felt so alive.
And she knew Boq and Elphaba were watching her. She could sense them. She had half a mind to spook them, to make eye contact and to smile. But that would mean opening her eyes, and she liked them this way, closed, allowing her to be anywhere.
Elphaba was the one to break it anyway.
She tapped Glinda on the shoulder.
"Oh! Well hellooo," Glinda grinned.
"How many drinks have you had?"
"Are you my mother?" Glinda shot back. But she grinned again; Elphaba had butterflies. One-two-three... four. She had four butterflies zizzing about in her stomach. Glinda went to name them. Pinky, Blinky, Inky, and—
"Just curious is all. I need one myself."
Glinda pointed off in some vague direction, but stopped to grab Elphie by her wrists, an excited look on her face.
"Dance with me!"
"I don't dance. You know this." Elphaba's heart danced. Glinda could only smile.
"Well, don't be long, then," and she let Elphie go. "Boq! Dear, dear Boq..."
Their voices dwindled, Elphaba sifting her way through the crowd. Everything felt all of a sudden sweaty, the floor sticky; there was smoke in her face. Yes, she needed a drink.
She found solace in the bar.
"What's your poison?" She could hardly hear the barkeep, despite him shouting. He was leaning casually, the counter a barricade.
"Anything," she projected, some desperation in her voice. She watched him nod and laugh, understanding. The cutting sound of the shaker; she looked around boredly, as there were a lot of steps. She did not know if that were a good thing, and she did not care to visit his mind. Such a thing was becoming a tad ridiculous.
"Here you are," he smiled, bringing her back. He slid it over, a pretty little thing in a tall-stemmed glass. "It's sweet."
"How considerate." As if she cared. It could have tasted like tar. She downed the thing and tipped her head in thanks, making her way back.
Boq and Glinda were dancing. He looked impossibly in love; and uncoordinated.
"Elphie!" Glinda called, seeing her. She remembered Boq, who stayed oblivious and shuffling. Glinda found herself to be smiling somewhat fondly, for he did have his moments. She tapped to get his attention. "Boq, would you be so kind as to let us girls dance?"
"Hm?" He looked at her then at Elphie, who had arrived, then at her again. "Oh, yeah, yeah yeah sure thing. I'll... I'll go." He went, happy to have had the privilege. Elphaba watched him, a skip in his step, if you could imagine it.
"I think you just made his night."
"I think I just made his year," said Glinda, just as casually going to place her hands on Elphie's hips. "Dance with me."
"Okay." Did she just say 'Okay?'
Glinda smiled, pretty teeth showing. She guided Elphaba's arms so that they draped loosely around her own neck; then back to her hips.
Elphaba was as stiff as a board, no drink in the world would ever be strong enough to change that. So Glinda led. She helped Elphaba to move, her own eyes closed. Elphaba fiddled with her own fingers behind Glinda's neck, not knowing where to look.
"Elphie."
"Yes?"
"You can look at me, Elphie."
"Okay." And so she looked. With her eyes closed, Elphaba could really look. Glinda had hoped for such a thing.
Glinda looked beautiful. Her skin was smooth but not perfect. She had freckles, extremely light, a peppering across the bridge of her nose, at the corners of her forehead. She had slight scarring. Elphaba had never noticed before, but Glinda's nose bent at the very tip.
Her jawbone ran elegantly into her ears, though remained strong. There was an odd, feminine masculinity about her. There was more to Glinda that she did not know. She could have been Lurlina, the way they painted her to look powerful yet still so soft.
Glinda looked beautiful.
Glinda opened her eyes, smiling shyly. Elphaba watched her cheeks change color, in real time.
What was happening? All because of a rainstorm.
She liked the feel of her fingers on her hips. They seemed to belong there. Elphaba let another, bolder version of herself guide her own hands to wrap around Glinda's waist. She absentmindedly rubbed her thumb against the beginnings of Glinda's stomach.
Startling them, a sudden loud high-pitched whistle. The Kumbric Witch from before. The club turned their heads.
They were reading off shapes and colors and numbers, in an anticipatory way that seemed to give them special meaning, though Elphaba could not make any sense of it, it seemed so random—three red diamonds, six red hearts, four black clubs. Glinda was the one to realize, remembering the tickets Avaric had given them. She had put hers in her bra.
"Nine red diamonds," finished the Witch. She licked her lips and began to clap, some satire to it. "Let's give a hand to the luckiest few in the world. My, my, you're about to have an experience!" she sang. The club joined in applause; somehow they all knew.
Glinda wordlessly led Elphaba away. Somewhere else, the rest of their friends were being corralled, scared out of their wits.
They found a private room, slipping themselves in and closing the door. Elphaba felt herself having sober thoughts, wanting to ask the question of "Why," but failing to execute—
Glinda was kissing her, slow and soft and delicate. Her hands cupped Elphaba's face, stroking the undersides of her jaw.
Elphaba kissed back, mewling in the back of her throat. It made Glinda smile, not at all shyly.
They slowly moved towards the couch, for it was one of those rooms; they sunk down, Glinda straddled across Elphaba's lap, the kiss deepening.
I think I love you, Elphie.
I think I love you too Glinda.
"Explain it to me again."
"Okay. Imagine your heart—"
"Not the one that beats and pumps blood."
"Correct. We're talking about your spiritual heart here, the Ancient Witches claimed everyone to have both a physical and spiritual heart."
"Okay."
"Your spiritual heart, it's who you are. For a witch—as in us—when something happens to uproot who they are, a bit of that heart—spiritual, remember—breaks off and withers away."
"This only ever happens to witches?"
"Yes. As in you. You're a witch Elphaba. And I'm a witch. Trust me, I'm still trying to get used to it..."
"For you it makes sense, you major in sorcery. My father's a unionist minister and it'd likely kill him," she joked, though hardly.
"Anyway," continued Glinda; there was still a lot of explaining to do, and Elphaba still wasn't getting it. "There lies an unoccupied space, wishing to be filled. It's a metaphor you see, 'mending a broken heart.' Except magic takes everything so literally, that the people we meet, who we hope to share an experience with, why, their heart visits ours, it visits that space. We become one. Well, actually, it's a little one-sided, because theirs has nothing wrong with it. We see into them though they don't, can't see into us—"
"But another witch can, her heart has the room," finished Elphie, at last seeming to catch on.
Exactly. And they can communicate this way.
Oh, get out of my head!
Muahahaha...
They giggled, it was so ridiculous.
"So," Elphaba began to ask again, "What if someone's 'someone' never gets uprooted?"
"Well. That's very, very unlikely. But it can happen. It can take someone decades, if that really were the case."
"Hm. And, I'm to guess.."
"Yes. Yes I think you'd be correct. It was Dr. Dillamond's death for you. Ama Clutch's for me."
There was a silence. They, unsurprisingly, felt the other one hurting. It was a strange way to experience empathy.
"Come lay with me," Elphie said.
"Okay," Glinda smiled, walking over, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. Elphaba made room for her, lifting the blanket. Glinda was always so warm against her, her head laying gently on Elphaba's breast. It always hurt in the slightest because her breasts were so small, but never enough to want such a closeness to end. They stayed that way for a while, Glinda playing with Elphaba's fingers, which she was prone to do. Elphaba took Glinda's other hand and kissed the knuckles, so they were a closed circuit, green in pink and pink in green.
"Elphaba?" Glinda said suddenly.
"Hm?"
"What's this about you wanting to go to the Emerald City?"
-END-
Author's Note: This was a trip to write and came out so much better than I expected! I hope you enjoyed :D It's been a while and I've really missed these two :) I wanted to challenge myself and write from Elphie's perspective for the first time in like, ever.
Elphaba deserved a brat summer she's literally green. Also, the Philly and Pac-Man jokes... tehehe...