MidReal Story

Wicked

Scenario:Elphaba confronts the Wizard
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Elphaba confronts the Wizard

Elphaba Thropp

destined to become the Wicked Witch of the West. She is intelligent, determined, and misunderstood. Elphaba struggles with her own identity and the expectations of others, particularly her father and the Wizard. Despite her efforts to fit in, she faces rejection and isolation. Her journey begins at Shiz University, where she meets Galinda and Fiyero, leading to unexpected friendships and conflicts.

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Fiyero Tigelaar

confident, and carefree. Fiyero becomes infatuated with Elphaba despite her unusual appearance, which confuses Galinda who had hoped to attract him herself. His friendship with Elphaba deepens as they bond over their shared outsider status at school.

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Galinda Upland

manipulative, and selfcentered. Initially dismissive of Elphaba due to her appearance, Galinda later becomes jealous of Elphaba's relationship with Fiyero. Her rivalry with Elphaba stems from insecurity about her own abilities and fear of being overshadowed by someone she perceives as inferior.

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I'll never forget the day I met the Wizard.
I was summoned to his office, and I thought for sure he was going to throw me out of Shiz the moment he laid eyes on me.
Everyone else did.
Even my father.
He'd taken one look at me, bleached-green skin and all, and turned away.
My mother, Nessarose, had been beautiful, they said.
She had been a perfect Ozian beauty, with blonde hair and bluebird-blue eyes.
She was everything that I wasn't: delicate, dainty, petite.
She was beautiful inside and out, they said.
Father's rejection of me still stung.
I knew it would have hurt my mother if she had lived to see it.
But when I was summoned to meet the Wizard, I didn't think about any of that.
Wicked
I pushed open the heavy emerald doors, my hands trembling against the cold metal.
The Wizard's office stretched before me, a cavernous chamber of mechanical contraptions and whirring gears.
Steam hissed from brass pipes that ran along the walls, and a massive metal head dominated the far end of the room.
The head was hollow, its eyes empty, but shadows moved behind it, giving it the illusion of life.
I heard footsteps coming from behind the mechanical head, soft and measured.
Wicked
My throat tightened.
The Wizard was nothing like I expected.
He was shorter than me by at least a head, wearing a simple brown suit that made him look like an accountant.
He smiled as he came around the metal head, but something in his eyes made me step back.
He gestured to a worn leather chair in front of his desk, and I hesitated.
I had expected something grander from the Wizard of Oz, but he was a man, not a myth.
He was weathered, too, with deep creases in his forehead and between his eyebrows.
He didn't look like he'd ever been beautiful, not like my mother.
He looked like he'd worked hard for everything he'd gotten.
"Sit, please," he said.
The chair creaked as I perched on the edge of it.
My green hands were clasped tightly in my lap, and I didn't know what to say to him.
I never knew what to say to anyone.
Steam hissed overhead as the Wizard sat in his own chair behind the massive wooden desk.
Wicked
He smiled at me again, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
They were blue eyes, almost piercingly so, but there was something calculating about them that made me wary. "Elphaba," he said, my name rolling off his tongue easily.
I nodded, expecting him to throw me out of Shiz now that he'd seen me in person.
But he just smiled again and leaned back in his chair.
"Miss Elphaba Thropp," he repeated.
"I've heard so much about you."
He opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a folder that was thick with pages.
It had my name written across the top of it in bold black script.
I swallowed hard; I didn't want him reading through all of Madame Morrible's reports about me.
She had made me sound like a monster, a freak of nature who was only tolerated at Shiz because my father was a minister who'd donated generously to the university over the years. The Wizard pulled out pages covered in Madame Morrible's neat handwriting and let them flutter across his desk, never taking his eyes from mine.
"Unique talents," he said.
"Special potential."
There was something about the way he said it that made my skin crawl; it was like when marketplace vendors hawked their wares by shouting how unique and special they were, except these vendors were always selling fake remedies or cheap tricks.
The Wizard leaned forward over his desk, his eyes glinting in the dim light of his office.
"I think you'll find that I have uses for someone with your... unique talents."
Wicked
His words hung in the air, a promise and a threat intertwined.