Elphaba had many roles she was groomed to perform.
A minister's daughter. A sister. An heir to an Eminency once abdicated by her mother and taken on by her aging grandfather Peerless Thropp. A cursed child with a cabbage complexion and an innate magic that was a bad omen rather than a gift. A lesson to those who stray from faith and fall for such base desires instead of the everlasting God, unnamed and infallible.
To pander to peers that held such significance (such as the prominent families of Gillikin, and the parents of her girlfriend), was a role she knew well. At least, when she wanted to. Many an occasion when some hoity-toity Munchkin or Gillikinese made the journey to Colwen Grounds to grovel at the feet of the godly father Frexpar, she'd play her role with a bit more dramatic flair–why not try to have some fun while your father paraded you around like a circus Monkey?
Drinking, gambling, fornicating about is what results in cursed offspring, he'd say in so many words. But she'd say in just a few more. She'd lay her presence on thickly, claiming a sexually transmitted disease is what resulted in the shade of green, or this is what happens when you masturbate. “and now I don't like hugs, oooo~!”
Served them right to think that her very existence was to absolve them of their sins. As if a deity, if one existed at all, would give a shit about whatever foolish foible they desperately sought her father's forgiveness for, a man who claimed to be the authority.
Frex was none too happy. Neither was Nessa, although the grin she failed to hide confessed otherwise.
The point was that Elphaba has the capacity to behave in present company.
Sequel coming soon... 💚💕