[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/0199e7fc-cfe9-734d-b81d-634bd303ec61.webp[/img][/center] [hr] "You ready kid?" Zatanna shifted on her feet, looking down at the ground and gripping a pair of white gloves between her small hands. Never in her short life of just 10 years had she felt this anxiety, this pressure to perform. Like all people about to step in front of a crowd for the first time she was having thoughts of turning tail and running. Leaving this place as quickly as she could and never looking back. But leaving this place would be leaving her father, the guy who had taken her into this world of lights and wonder, her favourite person. He could see her fear, it was written all over her face. The small girl dressed like a magician shrunk-down was almost shaking in front of him. Giovanni thought for a moment, smoothing out his moustache with a pair of gloved fingers before kneeling in front of her and taking her small hands in his. He gave her a soft, reassuring smile - the kind that always made the world feel smaller, and safer. He waited a moment longer before he quietly spoke, just loud enough for her to hear over the muffled hum of the waiting crowd. "Magic isn't about not being afraid, Zanna. It's about stepping out into those bright lights anyway, and making them believe you were never scared at all." He squeezed her hands once, firmly, like sealing a promise "Now go show them the magic, kiddo." Zatanna thought for a moment more, looking down at the gloves once more, before meeting his eye and giving a confident nod. She slipped on her gloves and walked hand in hand out with her father, towards the heavy red curtains that pulled apart and let the blinding light and applause in. [hr] [color=662d91]"And now for my next trick! Watch as I miraculously pull a rabbit from this completely normal and innocuous hat!"[/color] She poked her wand into the base of the top hat, turning it upside down and balancing it delicately on the tip. The crowd murmured in amusement as the hat wobbled precariously, yet stayed upright - proof enough that nothing was hidden inside. Zatanna's tongue poked out in concentration, her hands steady in a way that surprised even her. The adults in the crowd chuckled at her act, the children watched with baited breath, eager to see the impossible before their very eyes. Zatanna smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. The stage lights were as hot and blinding as ever, but they didn't make her nervous anymore. Nothing did, not really. Ten years old and terrified had been a lifetime ago, before her life changed forever. Before she was given a purpose beyond magic, avenging her father. She flicked her wrist, let the hat spin off the wand, and caught it in her palm. With a theatrical swish of her wand she tapped the rim of the hat three times and murmered under her breath, her lips barely moving. [color=662d91]"Tibbar."[/color] A soft white blur of white fur poked its large ears over the opening of the top hat. Zatanna reached in and displayed the rabbit for the crowd, its nose twitching as it gazed out to the sea of darkness. The crowd gasped, as they always did, and she took her bow to a thunder of applause. The curtain closed and Zatanna retreated to the changing room. A small time later and she left through the same door, in decidedly less flashy attire than what she wore on stage. Her waistcoat, fishnets, and magic case had been replaced with sweatpants, a hoodie, and a duffel bag with a small rabbit perched on top. Her conjurations never lasted long as it was, but she knew the questions she'd be assaulted with if she was seen leaving without the fluffy creature. She made her way out into the blinking glare of a hundred flickering LEDs and neon signs. The place reeked of cheap pizza, disinfectant, and the kind of overstimulated joy that gave adults headaches. A gaudy childrens party venue stitched together from cheap machines and worn carpet. Animatronic animals sang off-key somewhere near the prize counter; a fog of arcade sounds filled the air. Zatanna sighed through her nose. Her father had performed beneath velvet curtains and chandeliers in front of the rich and famous. She performed beside a broken soda machine in front of the cheap and unknown. And boy did she know it, people really didn't fork over the big bucks for magic like they used to. She adjusted the rabbit on her duffel bag as she passed rows of skee-ball lanes and ticket-spewing machines, headed for the exit. A child's squeal made her glance over her shoulder. A little girl in a glittery party hat was clutching a plastic wand, eyes still wide from Zatanna's show. Beside her, a teenage boy, leaned down and started explaining, too loudly, how the trick worked. "See? There's a false bottom in the hat. They hide the rabbit inside it, and when she flips it over-" The girl's shoulders sank. The magic faded from her face faster than a popped bubble. If only that fun-sponge of a boy really knew. This was no parlor trick he'd witnessed, it was real magic. Zatanna stopped mid-step. For a heartbeat she saw herself, ten years old, gloves trembling in her hands. She turned toward the girl with a faint smile. [color=662d91]"Don't let anyone tell you how the magic works, sweetheart."[/color] She said softly, crouching to the child's level. [color=662d91]"Real magic works without instructions."[/color] The girl nodded, unsure but smiling again. Zatanna straightened, eyes flicking toward the teenage boy. He'd moved on to a skee-ball lane, throwing aggressively, trying to impress someone. She twirled her finger absently by her side and murmured a single word beneath her breath. Turning the little girl toward him to watch. [color=662d91]"Ssim."[/color] The boy's next throw veered wildly, the ball bouncing off the rim and rolling uselessly down the gutter. He frowned, grabbed another - same result. Another. Every toss went astray. Zatanna couldn't hide her smirk as she turned back to the girl. "Your turn." she said quietly, gently pushing her back towards the machine. The teenage boy sneered, calling to his friends that if he couldn't do it, how could this little dweeb? [color=662d91]"Topkcaj"[/color] The girl's ball shot up the ramp, curved impossibly high, and dropped straight into the tiny jackpot ring at the top. The machine screamed with lights and sirens, tickets spilling across the floor. It did this for every ball she haphazardly tossed. The girl shrieked in delight. The boy just stared, dumbfounded. Zatanna shouldered her duffel bag, the rabbit plush fading into motes of light as she reached the door. She allowed herself a small, private smile. Even here, in a place so stifled by modernity a little magic still had its place. [hr] She sat cross-legged on the motel bed, forking noodles into her mouth as she scrolled through page after page of text glowing on her laptop. It felt like she'd read every variation of this a hundred times before. Any real dirt on Alchemax was buried too deep for the surface web, and the threads she did find down below were a tangle of half-truths and fevered theories. If you read long enough, you always wound up in the same place - some dark corner of the internet where people tried to prove the world was flat and lizard people ran Wall Street. She slurped another mouthful and rubbed her eyes. The neon vacancy sign outside buzzed a tired rhythm against the window. She was about to close the laptop when a terse, local piece caught her eye, an old crime article with Alchemax written all over it. 'Chemical Plant Robbery Gone Wrong - One Missing, Scene Reports Unusual Material.' She opened it. The piece described a bungled break-in at an Alchemax subcontractor in Mammoth City. According to police, a trespasser had been caught beneath vats of experimental polymer and his presence had been chalked up to an industrial accident before anyone could properly identify him. The line that made her stop was small and clinical: 'Investigators report traces of anomalous polymer at the scene.' Zatanna frowned. In Alchemax-speak, 'anomalous polymer' was rarely comforting. She scanned the article for names and found none. Instead she cross-referenced the information she could find with the obituaries and finally she found her man: Patrick O'Brian. No next of kin listed. No employer. Just a short note from The Mammoth City Tribune about a 'career petty criminal' presumed dead after a chemical spill during an attempted robbery. The language was typical of corporate damage control, but the dates lined up perfectly. The same night as the Alchemax plant 'accident'. Her fingers hovered over the trackpad. Patrick's name was the first real lead she'd had in months. Every other thread just lead her straight into a brick wall. Alchemax were good, too good, in all her time tracking them they hadn't slipped up once. She could only hope this might be their first time. She snapped the laptop shut. Someone had to know Patrick O'Brian in Mammoth City, and hopefully that someone cared enough about him to help her. She smiled, throwing her back on the bed with her hands underneath her head. A small rabbit bounced its way next to her, another conjuration she'd made to keep her company. [color=662d91]"Looks like we've got a new trick to chase, Tibbar."[/color] she said quietly. [color=662d91]"Let's see what happens when a hired thief disappears into Alchemax slime."[/color] Another rabbit materialised from thin air next to the other. [color=662d91]"I've got to remember not to name you, Tibbar."[/color] A third rabbit appeared.