There's been some confusion...
WHO: Glinda and Elphaba
WHAT: A Reunion.
WHERE: The Inn/Street
WHEN: 107? Is that what we're on now?
She was rather used to stares, but Elphaba had become a common enough sight in Shiz that most people didn't glance at her anymore, except just to gossip about her. She had to admit she must be very scary looking as she stalked down the cobblestones in her tightly-laced black boots, clutching her broom in one hand, the journal in the other, her trademark pointed hat askew atop her head. The Grimmerie sat safely in a shoulder bag she carried, the heavy volume slapping across her thighs as she stomped along.
A little boy watched her, mouth agape, and tugged anxiously on his mother's skirt.
"Mommy, look! Look!"
Elphaba leaned over to meet his height and made her dark eyes very large and pursed her lips. He squeaked and hid behind the nearest market stall. She gave a lopsided smile that resembled a genial smirk, and her stomp eased to a trot.
"Like a cinder-block!" Glinda had called her inn.
She was grateful she had someone awaiting her here, when so many did not. Elphaba thanked an unnamed God in her heart. Another welcome feature the place had was that her verdigris did not seem to unnerve everyone as much as it had in Oz. She observed other unusual creatures as she walked through the quaint winding streets; a young woman with wings, people with ears and tails, or odd mismatched eyes.
Then, above her head, like a banner of sunshine, flapped a rather sad, waterlogged yellow dress. Elphaba would've recognized it anywhere; It was Glinda's, no doubt about it. Finding a place to perch herself, the sorceress scribbled a note for Glinda to say she had arrived, and flipped through the journals while she waited, murmuring spells to try and decipher the book's mysteries.
WHAT: A Reunion.
WHERE: The Inn/Street
WHEN: 107? Is that what we're on now?
She was rather used to stares, but Elphaba had become a common enough sight in Shiz that most people didn't glance at her anymore, except just to gossip about her. She had to admit she must be very scary looking as she stalked down the cobblestones in her tightly-laced black boots, clutching her broom in one hand, the journal in the other, her trademark pointed hat askew atop her head. The Grimmerie sat safely in a shoulder bag she carried, the heavy volume slapping across her thighs as she stomped along.
A little boy watched her, mouth agape, and tugged anxiously on his mother's skirt.
"Mommy, look! Look!"
Elphaba leaned over to meet his height and made her dark eyes very large and pursed her lips. He squeaked and hid behind the nearest market stall. She gave a lopsided smile that resembled a genial smirk, and her stomp eased to a trot.
"Like a cinder-block!" Glinda had called her inn.
She was grateful she had someone awaiting her here, when so many did not. Elphaba thanked an unnamed God in her heart. Another welcome feature the place had was that her verdigris did not seem to unnerve everyone as much as it had in Oz. She observed other unusual creatures as she walked through the quaint winding streets; a young woman with wings, people with ears and tails, or odd mismatched eyes.
Then, above her head, like a banner of sunshine, flapped a rather sad, waterlogged yellow dress. Elphaba would've recognized it anywhere; It was Glinda's, no doubt about it. Finding a place to perch herself, the sorceress scribbled a note for Glinda to say she had arrived, and flipped through the journals while she waited, murmuring spells to try and decipher the book's mysteries.