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nowimwicked's Journal

Created on 2008-11-07 05:53:10 (#17090252), last updated 2008-11-12

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Basic Info

Name:	Elphaba (OU)

Bio

Wicked Witch of the West

Character: Elphaba Thropp
Series/Fandom: Wicked
Original or Alternate: Original Universe

Age: 38
Gender: Female
Species: Human-ish
Sexuality: Unimportant

Housing Assignment: Yil-Enas

Appearance:

Emerald. Verdant. Lettuce green or smoky ivy green, the hue of a frog’s slimy skin or maybe the tinge of newly grown grass. Green – that is the color that strikes one as they see her. The woman seems ancient, or rather timeless, her dark brown eyes aged in a stilly smooth and haunted face. Locked in permanent innocence-lost her features are young yet old, contradiction warring within her appearance as it does within her mind. The witch’s unnaturally hued skin is tinged with the color of new life, yet her body moves sometimes with the utter wariness of the old. Only flight makes her awkwardly beautiful again, young and lithe in movements, or when she forgets herself in anger or rage – sparks again flying in the earthy eyes.

Her clothing is perfect for one in hiding from her true nature, in blocking off a rather forgotten identity. Witch: of dark garb and pointed hat, a thick cloak to guard against the penetration of rain or a spray of water. Often a broom is clutched in one clawing hand, its twisting length still hinting at the life within the tree it must have sprung from. A simple leather bag is tucked at the witch’s side, carrying less unusual objects than would be expected of a green-skinned woman bristling with barely-tamed power.

There is an instilling aura about her, despite the odd angle she holds her limbs sometimes, the glowing pain so often shown in the nearly black eyes. Weary but still strong – and a slight hint of madness, the brief flash of instability in the glaring sight. Elphaba – but more often known as the Wicked Witch of the West.

Personality:

Nettling and stinging - traits that parallel the prickling nature of the plants whose color her skin resembles. Those who gain close enough proximity to meet the woman often attest to wishing they had not. That she is intelligent there is no question, her wit and genius has threatened even the power of the Wizard of Oz himself. That she possesses sympathy and compassion there is no doubt for those who know of the hopeless causes she has supported. But to those who do not know of her sacrifice, her attitude and demeanor seem more akin to those of a woman twice her age – ancient and filled with bitterness towards the world.

There is a wish to deny hope within her eyes, a dark desire to let order and propriety destroy what she most cares about. That she has seen it happen is clear in her sharpness towards others, in the biting and snarling way she addresses even the most well meaning stranger. Only the closest of friends will ever know that her reaction towards other human beings is merely defense, as a beaten animal cringes and protests its continued hurt and pain with growls and lashing out in return. Only a few know of the kindness and intense love the wicked witch is capable of.

From time to time her old self reasserts – that donning of forgotten memories like trying on old clothing once more to see if they still fit. Though much cynical, it is a fresher personality, a more curious woman that is a bit more friendly to those who seem to take no offensive to the color of her skin or her ever-unsatisfied demeanor. But these times are often short, and return to the graying disappointment of her present life – falling to reality with a shattered bump of depression and listless energy.

Disclaimer:

This is a role-playing journal for