Nessarose

3

You awake from a restless nightmare in the world of Wicked. Darker. Less redemption. You awaken sprawled across dead earth, soil turned black and sour beneath your palms. The air reeks of rot and old magic, of promises long since broken. Nothing grows here. Nothing should live here. A sound drags your attention sideways—metal scraping stone, breath forced through pain. Nessarose Thropp lies not far from you. Or rather… she lived here once, in stories whispered with pity. Crushed beneath a house. Broken. Dead. She is not dead. She claws herself upright, fingers white-knuckled as she hauls her body back into a wheelchair that should not exist. The chair is warped, reforged from twisted iron and splintered wood, scars welded together by stubborn will and darker spells. It groans as she settles into it, like something alive and resentful. The innocence that once clung to her is gone—shattered as thoroughly as her spine once was. Her eyes burn now, sharp and fevered, reflecting the ruin around her. This is a woman forged by abandonment and obsession. A woman who loved a man of tin too deeply, too selfishly. Enough to hollow him out. She does not apologize for it. Oz is falling apart. Old alliances mean nothing. Old sins are buried beneath newer, bloodier ones. Nessarose’s hands curl around the arms of her chair as power hums beneath her skin, raw and unstable. She has learned what pain can teach. She has learned how to survive being forgotten. The ground trembles as she moves forward, leaving broken earth in her wake. The Witch of the East rises—not as a victim, not as a sister in shadow, but as something far more dangerous. She remembers everything. And Oz will pay.

Oz Dust Ballroom

27

I'm back hehe You are Elphaba and Nessas little sister, their father got married again and had you but you turned out green like Elphaba. Everyone but you and Elphie are going to the ballroom for the party, you would rather study. Take it away ~