notwicked (notwicked) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2014-07-08 07:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, !open, ~2014 july, ~40 points, ~~elphaba thropp (notwicked), ~~sam winchester (fireinthesoul) |
Who: Elphaba Thropp and Open (Multiples welcomed and Encouraged)
What: Exploring the town
When: July 8th.
Where: The bookstore, the library, all around the town in general
Warnings: None
Status: Open and Ongoing
Elphaba couldn’t believe this town. It was nearly perfect. Clean, relatively friendly, peaceful thus far. If she believed in any of the nonsense her father preached all the time, she would swear this was the other world he spoke of. Even her skin didn’t seem to bother most of the other refugees that she had met. They didn’t discount what she had to say because of her skin, or because she was a woman. She enjoyed herself here thus far. But every time she looked to the sky, it reminded her that this was a prison. A nicer prison than any she’d seen before, but a prison none the less.
The blood test still weighed heavily on her mind. Not because she thought they could do anything with the sample. From all that she had learned in her biology and life science classes, blood didn’t really do much to identify magical powers, or any powers really. Her skin did more to label her a witch, and she had to wear that every day if she wanted to or not.
The news that there were ‘witch hunters’ here had her concerned, and then again not really. It’s not like she was able to hide anyway. If they wanted to find her, they would. She was tempted to give that Gretel woman her address, if only to find out what she meant about rot in dark magic users. Then again, in this town, she imagined they’d eventually bump into each other anyway. Hopefully the run in wouldn’t involve torches or pitchforks and calls for Elphaba’s head on a spike.
As much as the blood test and witch hunters concerned her, the ideas floating around about how to get around the dome fascinated her. So much so, she had bought a new book on broadcast technology. She couldn't help but think that young man may have a valid point. As much as she wasn't sure she wanted to leave, she was certain others did. Not to mention having the option of leaving if she chose would ease that trapped feeling that kept sinking in.
She had more pressing problems, anyway. With roughly six hundred dollars left, and still needing clothing and some supplies, finding a job somewhere seemed to be a higher priority than possibly being hunted again or this blood test. Perhaps it was because she had been hunted most of her adult life anyway, and perhaps it was because the friendly accepting overtone of the refugees here had her caution lapsing. While she realized that either could be dangerous, she couldn’t bring herself to care anymore. Fate had always handed her a bad deal. Perhaps this was her chance to have a good life. Or perhaps she was fooling herself.