updates
independant elphaba thropp.
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PRIVATE + EXCLUSIVE
est. sept. 2013
book + musical canon
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written by julia
   mxdam-a:
   “Wouldn’t you prefer to eat when all the work is done?”
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     THOUGH SHE  scarcely ate as it was, her apatite normally paling beneath her guilts &  regrets, she had gone the previous evening and morning without food, making her grow now to be LIGHTHEADED. still, she was determined not to show a need, nor a weakness. she lifted the tray with weak arms. she could eat that night, when the madam had gone to bed. 

                       ‘ ——————  OH, OF  course, madam. thank you for the thought. ‘

mxdam:

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          “That is not my concern, Elphaba. You will simply have to make do.”

          Of the two servants in the house, Ella is the only one Margarethe truly hates. Elphaba – Elphaba she doesn’t care for, and she receives only the brunt of Margarethe’s indifferent and neglect. That doesn’t mean Margarethe is above this kind of deprivation; it only means that it’s not done out of deliberate malice. The most important person in Margarethe’s world will always be Margarethe, and the help ranks far, far below her.

          “Go on. I shall ring for you if you are needed.” Another yawn, this one wider, also smothered by one hand.

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      SOMETIMES SHE had to wonder where her FIGHT had gone. as a child she had simply had to be rough around the edges, to fight back when the boys from down the dusty road played ‘kick the green freak’ and her father pretended not to see. she used to speak with a BITE every time she was addressed. now she was just too tired.

                                                    ‘ YES madam. will that be all? ‘

      SHE BIT back any further bickering, pining for the lull of sleep, however freezing &  hard the kitchen floor may have been. in sleep everything was DARK and she need not worry, nor hold back, nor bow her head to another. in sleep she could almost forget what she was ;; a servant girl, the LOWEST of society. the unwanted daughter. at least, in sleep, she was simply nothing at all.

mxdam:

          “Absolutely not – what if it comes back?” Even if it is a rabbit, or even a chicken escaped from the coop… Well, Margarethe won’t take that chance. It might be an intruder. It might be a predator. She’s not going to be the one to find out if it does return. Elphaba is disposable; Margarethe herself is not.

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          “Go down to the kitchen. If it comes back, I’ll ring for you, and you can come back and make sure it’s not trying to break in.” Elphaba’s yawn has sparked a yawn in Margarethe in turn, this one delicately muffled with the back of one hand. The shock has worn off a little – she’d like to go back to bed – and the only way she’s going to do that securely is knowing that Elphaba is not sleeping, but keeping vigil, making sure that whatever it is, Margarethe is safe.

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     HER TEETH  grind into themselves to keep from making her frustration visible. it was not a SURPRISE really, but it irritated her nonetheless. she was twice as easily angered in her recently exhausted state. the darkness brought out something ( bolder ) in her, something that would only cause her TROUBLE.

     IT WAS  frigid in the kitchens at night, the floor a cold slab of stone. she had known ella to speak of it. but it was not as if she was permitted to ( sleep ) now anyway. she had to stay awake to protect the madam from ferocious RABBITS and the like. she smirked to herself with pleasure at her own inside jokes. 

            ‘ YES, MADAM,  but I do doubt anything will be returning, and I have to be up in a few hours you see. ‘

     IT WOULD  be her only plea, she knew BETTER than to anger the lady tremaine, especially when she was missing precious beauty sleep. but a part of her wouldn’t let her simply retire to the stone floor without just one meager protest. it took all her reminding herself that anything was better than ( home ) to maintain her patience, but somehow, she managed.

mxdam:

          The idea that it may be an animal – even the goose from the barnyard or something – has crossed Margarethe’s mind; but she is a city woman, raised in cities, most comfortable in urban spaces where nature is as sequestered as possible. She doesn’t like the woods surrounding the farmhouse, doesn’t like the animals inhabiting them. The thought of a wild animal under her window, even a harmless one, is enough to leave her jittery and unsettled. She finds nature in all its untamed forms threatening. A human prowler would almost be preferable.

          To Elphaba’s question, Margarethe flaps a hand in the direction of the far side of her bedroom – the window that abuts the back garden. “Over there somewhere. Go out and look, will you?”

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        SHE WRAPS  the loose fabric tighter around her hollow frame in the chill of the open window. teeth dig into her lower lip in order to SUPPRESS her over-tired irritation. the night air tugs at her unkempt hair, but it’s more ( soothing ) than frightening. while the lady tremaine may have been notably uncomfortable with the farm and woodland animals, elphaba had no fear of them. they were in fact, far BETTER company than most of the dreadful household. 

                        ‘ I DON’T  see anything threatening, madam. perhaps a cottontail in the garden, but it won’t hurt you ——- I assure you. ‘

       SHE STIFLES  her laughter at the thought, her lack of sleep has made her wise. the dark was thick, but her accustomed eyes found nothing, not even so much as a deer in the vacant yard. she did know of a rabbit that had eaten the bramble bushes before, but she couldn’t be sure it was there anymore. 

       A HAND  rises to cover her chapped lips as she yawns, the cool air eliciting a ( shiver ) from her skin. she gently clasps the window shut and turns to the lady tremaine, hoping for an acceptance of her prognosis, and yet knowing it was NEVER so simple. 

                        ‘ IF THAT’LL  be all madam, may I return to my chambers? ‘

   mxdam-a:
   ➣ Slap their hand away
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       SHE HAD  put up with every kind of wordless abuse one could imagine from the lady tremaine. she had done so because she’d CONVINCED herself it was better than the words & hands of her ( father ). she’d learned how to so excellently subdue her RAGE, how to fold her hands and soundlessly agree with her place. but the moment she felt cold, coddling hands on her, that ( rage ) returned, the power she’d tried to keep down. luckily her outburst remained in the PHYSICAL, the supernatural only coursing through her, as if testing her calm. fingernails dig into the porcelain, white wrist, eyes gone narrow.

      ‘ YOU WILL  not EVER touch me like that again —— madam. ‘

mxdam:

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          “I heard something. Outside my window. Come downstairs and see what it is, Elphaba.” Margarethe, see for herself? Not likely.

          The thump in the greenery outside had awoken her, sent her spinning out of a deep sleep. Her body is still spiked with the uneasy excitement of it, heart thumping a little too hard, attention jumpy. Still, she catches the motion as Elphaba lifts the blanket to cover herself. Margarethe thinks, even in the middle of all this, good. She is past the point where all that greenness disgusts her, but it still offends her sensibilities; there’s simply something improper about it, indecent. She’s already leaving the doorway, wrapped in her own robe, arms around herself, simply anticipating that Elphaba will follow.

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          SHE SCRAMBLES slowly to her feet, keeping the comforter over her shoulders until she’s able to slip into a faded, loose-fitting sweater than hangs over her bony stature. lifting the oil lamp from beside her straw mattress she follows the lady tremaine out of the attic room down the winding staircase. most likely, though she’d never DARE say it aloud to the madam, it was just a harmless rustle of a creature in the wood. of course, one of her level could never be too careful. she bit her lip, as if to hold in the snark of her thoughts. 

                                                                       ’ WHERE EXACTLY  was it coming from? ‘

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         SHE STIRS  when light filters into the room. she hadn’t been sleeping, though she had made no noise. it haunted her to think lady tremaine may still have KNOWN. was she required to sleep by her work’s end? she had always been a light sleeper, perhaps nodding off here and there. she hated to think of waking with the nightmares, so she kept her mind too busy to slip off too far. and suddenly she’s conscious of her dressing gown, a thin material for the summer heat, exposing more skin than she preferred be seen. slowly, she moves the blanket over her chest and holds it there.

                                ‘ ———–  MADAM, IT’S  very late. is there something I can get you? ‘

   mxdam-a:
   codename 8)
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     #It Happened Once In A Dream…

   mxdam-a:
   “You’re incredibly beautiful, did you know that?” [ 8) ]
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    THE WORDS catch in her ears, a ringing growing within them.  instantly
     her skin  crawls  with anticipation.   nothing  the  madam  ever  said  came
     without ( c o n s e q u e n c e ), and while they were far lighter to her than
     the blows of her own father.    still,    the mentions of her own appearance
     were  scars  she did not will to  be  opened,   though her mind,   however
     TORN, forced her to remain compliant to the lady tremaine’s wishes.  she
     couldn’t  bear to be sent  home,  not now.      not after she’d come so far. 

                         ‘ WHATEVER DO you mean, madam? ‘

   mxdam-a:
   ‘rough touch’

( 7. Your muse grips my muse’s hips. )

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             in  all her time at the tremaine house she had been  nothing  but  OBEDIENT.     she
                had taken every beating,    verbal or otherwise. she had done what was  ORDERED  of
                her   and asked for near nothing in return.  but her line,        however ( t h i c k ),     was
                shattering,         the sensation of  UNINVITED  nails digging into her flesh,        the pure,
                unsubsiding  RAGE  that suddenly burst from her was uncontainable.      she had never
                reacted  well to  ( TOUCH ),   not when she’d only ever known it as painful,   as foreign.
                with her rage,         came her SECRETS,   her power too entwined with her shock to be
                stopped.    a wave of power came from her very CORE,   forcing the madam far across
                the room,  and leaving her,   chest heaving,  on the ground. her teeth were  ( g r i t )  as
                she  imagined the following  scenario,        how her father would  WAIL  and slap her to
                ground as he had so many times before, how she would MISS the young ella tremaine,
                how  she would miss a  torture  that was slightly less than it once it had  been.       yet,
                somehow,  she didn’t have the  ( STRENGTH )  to apologize, she wouldn’t sink so low.
                too long had she defied her morals for a bit of extra  comfort,   but not now.  not when
                everything                  she               was                was              already            EXPOSED.

       ‘ do not EVER violate me in such a way again… MADAM. ‘

May  2   ( 1 )  
HW