maskormenacelogs | No business like show business

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No business like show business

WHO: Zatanna & You
WHERE: Performance venues, various locations for interviews and publicity ops. Any city works, she'll be doing things in all three.
WHEN: Through July
WHAT: Rehearsals, interviewing potential crew and on-stage assistants, showing the recently hired the ropes, plus interviews and pr stunts
WARNINGS: Probably swearing. For now.

A

Music piped through the venue's sound system as Zee walked her new assistants (who just happen to mostly be very attractive men, though certainly not all of them) through their on stage intros- their cues, their marks on the stage, and how to use the music and other on-stage cues to time themselves.

"-Oh, Evan, no, no, don't stand so close to that- the light's right behind you, there- yeah, more to left- you should have a mark- someone get him a mark? OK, thanks.

Alright, on to the escape- wait, what? How do we not have enough chain? Fine, fine, I'll conjure some for now, but I need everything to be real by the time we get to dress rehearsal. No, nothing in the escape portion can be magic or any kind of illusion. That's the point!"

Things stayed about this level of hectic until they locked up and called it a night.

B

She was being as casual as she could when it came to interviews- sunny cafe patios as opposed to offices- though stage auditions would be unavoidable for those looking to be in the show itself.

Her latest interviewee had just sat down with her and introductions had been made, so she started in on what she would need to know.

"Do you have any experience in live productions- theatre, concerts, anything along those lines?"

C

And now it was her turn to answer. Local newspapers, television spots, Internet shows and even the occasional podcast- she was making appearances and giving interviews to (mostly) anyone she could fit into her schedule.

Most of it was fairly normal- she'd sit and answer questions about magic, about her life before arriving here, and avoided anything too personal- though at least one interviewer got her to tear up talking about her dad, when she got in to talking about her earliest performances and introduction to stage magic.

"He used to do this thing, where anyone whose name and age he couldn't guess would get a cash prize- he'd divine if anyone in the audience truly needed the money- and he'd get it wrong if he knew someone was in really dire straits. Sending people home happy is always the most important part of a show."

Other times, usually for daytime TV, she wound up in more... novel experiences. Assisting the host with a food segment. No one had made her touch any meat or face any puppets, yet, so- so far so good. Not being sick on television, cable, local or otherwise, was always a good thing.

D

Busy tourist areas, shopping malls, the occasional carnival. They all worked for locations where Zatanna, with camera crew in tow, would perform smaller-scale, yet still mind-boggling illusions and the occasional bit of genuine magic. Her eyeliner is way, way nicer than certain other TV street magicians, it is worth noting. Clips of these mini-performances will be used to promote the live shows.

When the cameras aren't rolling, she took to answering questions from fans or signing autographs. This was, at least, one part of ImPort life she'd been used to before her arrival, and doesn't seem to mind all that much.

E

Wildcard! Choose your own setting!

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Even though he's not the one on camera, John makes something resembling effort on his appearance when she deals with the public. He shaves, showers, and sometimes even knots his tie properly. It makes him resemble a nearly handsome person, especially when he sits outside of the camera frame, watching the proceedings carefully. They know, of course, that saying anything untowards at her means dealing with him.

The annoyed look on his face while they're filming might be more because he has to go as long as an hour without a smoke or drink, but they don't need to know that.

"So," she says, after finishing with one meeting- with an hour between now and the next appointment, which means she's reaching for the menu.

"Anyone who stands out to you so far?"

((I'm dumb and my brain went to "media interview" instead of "interviewing job applicants" so pretend like my first comment doesn't suck.))

"Girl with the brow piercing," he says absently, then after a pause, "Not just saying her 'cuz I've got biases. Only one not covertly gawking at you the whole interview. Probably means she's either exclusively heterosexual or has some professionalism." - two traits, of course, that John lacked.

((That is also an option if you'd rather))

"Were there really that many ogglers? I was reading a few of those as just jittery, nervous about the interview," she says, thoughtfully. "And the makeup guy definitely wasn't oggling. Well. He wasn't oggling me, anyway." Smirk. "Maybe I should dock him points for taste?"

((nah it's cool))

"Well," John admits awkwardly, "He might've just been doing his job, studying faces for aesthetic purposes." Then after another pause, "And I might have started it."

He glances at the menu, pretending badly to be embarrassed. Not like he's much hungry, anyways. Too much to think about. He's not sure what is possessing him to be vaguely competent for her sake, and even less sure how long it'll last. Then again, if it means her never having to live how he does, he'll take it.

"Please don't go any further than looking, I liked his attitude and his portfolio," she warns him over her coffee cup. "Speaking of your appreciative eye, what did you think of yesterday's assistant auditions?"

He pretends to think about it for a moment,

"Not my type, but they seemed...enthusiastic. I'm sure once they're greased and glittered they'll fit right in. They getting bunny ears to go with their...lack of outfits? Or do we want to go for a more serious, theatrical approach?"

It's all he can do to not crack up. It helps, at least, to keep him from considering any greater implications to his behaviour. The closest he ever got to getting his shit together was for those he cared about, and he'd been doing almost too much of that in this world. It had taken so little time to fall back into pesky habits like making effort for others. The worst part was, he knew how relaxed the expectations were from Zee at this point in their lives, but still here he was.

"No, no. The bunny ears are just for you. You should know that by now." She looks way too happy with herself for that. "What else do we have today and how much of it can I pay you to take over for me?"

It takes him a moment to realize that she's not talking about the rabbit transformation from that dream curse back in April, and he hopes the guilty look doesn't linger on his face long enough for her to question him about it. Gods, she can't still be feeling bad about it, can she?

"One more interview and touring a venue," he says idly, "Though if we order wine with lunch should I be polishing that off for the both of us?"

Not so much the nightmare world- she'd just been picturing what he'd look like with fluffy bunny ears on a headband, maybe a cotton tail pinned sadly to his trench coat. She might be getting overtired, because she giggles again.

"Is it the theatre that promised to book a week-long engagement if we cleared out the more troublesome of their resident ghosts?"

He'd know that 'running on more cups of coffee than hours of sleep' look anywhere. Beats the guilty looks, at least. He can hardly fathom a thing she's done that he's not done worse, really. He nods at her question all the same, though,

"Pretty sure, yeah. Art Deco, so right up your alley. No wonder about all the ghosts, though. Didn't look like the fire escapes had been updated to modern standards."

And besides, she knew how he looked with bunny ears on and it was reserved expressly for occasions when she'd been good.

"Hm, a cup of cold-press might be in my future. You'll have to play adult supervisor," she informs him, taking out her phone to lookup the nearest coffee shop. "But other than that, I don't think that's anything we can't handle."

He responds with a languid shrug she's seen him do a million times,

"I'll go where you wanna, luv. Might even be persuaded to try iced tea. S'one American drink I can tolerate. Then again, suppose I have to with the summers around here."

There's a beat, then he decides to skip any further small talk,

"You're trusting me with a lot, y'know."

"Believe it or not, John, there are actually some areas of life in which you're actually trustworthy." Maybe that one area was literally just with her, but it was still something.

A hand rubs against his eye sockets and through his hair uncomfortably. It was likely less than 'maybe' that his dependability extended any further than just her. It wasn't something he wanted to think about, not when she actually needed him for something and not during afternoon tea. There was so little she could do that he wouldn't forgive her for. He wasn't sure why it went the other way, though.

"Well, I've been told I'm an adequate coffee-fetcher," he says, managing to only sound a little bitter.

"You're also better with the dead than I am. Ghosts listen to you. Even when you're not chanting in Latin. If these people want an exorcism, that's definitely more your wheelhouse than mine," she reminds him.

"Before I got here, the last dead guy I dealt with trapped me in a puppet body. Or- well, I guess he wasn't dead, but... ugh, it was complicated."

"An' you didn't call me?" He blurts out, fortunately somewhat joking. Somewhat. The likelihood that the perpetuator would have been reduced to ash and had his bloodline cursed if John had found out was not low. Being overly protective wasn't his strength, and he'd patronize Zee at his own risk. But it was the principal of the thing.

While Iris had never heard of Zatanna Zatara prior to arriving in this world, she had done her research – and as a freelancer, she was honestly stoked that she'd been able to schedule an interview in the first place. It wasn't the metahuman beat, let alone anything in her wheelhouse, but beggars couldn't be chooses. Iris had arranged for some relative privacy: just the two of them, in some secluded cafe, and Iris's trusty tape recorder. (She could take notes but truthfully, beyond first impressions, an audio recording would be best.)

She holds it carefully in her right hand, rising to her feet as she catches sight of the other woman. “Hi! Thanks again for agreeing to this,” she says, with far too much enthusiasm. “It really means a lot.”

In person, she's a bit shorter than expected, but wearing heels and a top hat so often does tend to give false impressions. She's also smartly dressed, but after scrubbing off the stage makeup, she didn't have the will to put anything else on her skin beyond a bit of tinted lip balm and moisturizer. The occasional stray bit of glitter catches the light under her eyes, the nature of glitter being something akin to cosmetic barnacles.

"Oh, no, thank you," Zatanna said assuringly as she joined her. "I know that turning an interview into an article takes a lot of work, I'm always happy to speak with anyone who thinks I'm interesting enough to spare some words for." Her smile is earnest, and aside from looking just a bit tired, she seems relaxed and ready to talk.

When her interviewee has this much grace, despite the hour of the day, Iris can't quite help being charmed. She motions for Zatanna to take a seat across from her before sitting down herself. Iris is in turn dressed sharply in a red sweater and black jeans, with her hair loosely tied up in a braid. It's as polished as she's gonna get for the day, and honestly? Iris can't quite help admiring Zatanna's style, stray glitter and all.

"You're more than interesting," Iris admits with a laugh, motioning to the recorder and silently turning it on (with Zatanna's permission, of course!). "I'm from a world like yours, I think, and I've never seen anything quite like the stage shows you do. How'd you get into it in the first place?"

The flattery she accepts with grace, but it's the question itself that really makes her smile- a warm, nostalgic smile that goes all the way to her eyes.

"My dad," she says. "My powers are a... I guess you could say a family trait. Controlling them, using them- and learning the ins and outs of stage magic. Anything I do on stage, I'm able to do because he taught me so well. I spent a lot of time on the road with him. I even got to be in his shows every so often. He was amazing. If I do even half as much good, make half as many people happy in my lifetime as he did, I'd say I've accomplished my goal."

Iris listens with rapt enchantment – so this was a legacy, much like saving people in need had been a legacy in her own family. Iris can't quite help admiring it.

“That must've been incredible, getting to learn the ropes from such a young age.” She tilts her head thoughtfully. “Without spoiling too many details, would it be safe to say that we'll see some of those in your next show? Or will they have some Zatanna twist to em?”

Mai was, at this point, despite two months into her career, a distinguished anchor on Smiles for Miles, the national morning talk show. Her deadpan, dismissive attitude but ability to deliver The Facts made her pretty well liked. Mai did not care for most of the work in the interviews, but this one interested her because she recently threw herself into some endeavor performing as a musician for Woden so she can keep his power suit and launch some sort of crazy power scheme by recruiting more girls to exploit Woden's talents. It's a ridiculous and long story.

There's a small crew budding around Mai as she reads the briefing and script. It was just an interview, followed by Zatanna spinning a wheel to perform a challenge on the show, which was a customary tradition for imPort guests. Mai realized that she might need a little more charisma than usual to ask for Zatanna's advice for her performance, but being so uncharacteristically warm might be suspect if Zatanna actually watches the news.

They aren't filming yet, but Mai realizes that she should build some rapport with the person she's interviewing before she starts.

"What are your super powers again?" She attempts for a warmer tone in her voice, but it still comes off kind of flat and dry.

Zee always made sure to watch at least a few clips of any show or broadcast she was going to be on, and she had to admit the young woman who hosted these segments was very... well, stoic would be the polite way to put it, let's go with stoic. It was actually kind of refreshing, as a viewer, to have a break from the forced perkiness of other morning TV hosts.

She was a little surprised to find she kept it up when not filming- she'd assumed it to be as much an affectation as her oh-so-chipper counterparts.

"I don't have... specific powers, really. But I do magic- the real kind, I mean."

"I've only had my exposure to magic here, and he was using his to breathe under sand. What sort of applications does your magic have?" Mai's inflection is a little distant and robotic. She motions to inward with her left hand, bringing Zatanna and her a nice tea platter. There's a variety of short breads and tea, with a large red kettle in the middle.

She tries to offer some sort of fact from her home world to make this seem like it's not a one-sided interrogation, "My home world's variant on 'magic' was elemental control. You could only control fire, air, water or earth. Or, you could be a real tough girl and try to fight without bending like me." Still said with the same dry candor. Mai, almost parched from speaking such a barren statement, immediately drinks the tea despite its still hot temperature.

"My powers are more limited here than at home, but essentially, with a little focus and backwards talking, I can make things happen spontaneously," she says. "For instance-" she points at Mai's tea cup- "Llifer aet," and magically, her teacup refills itself to the perfect level without draining the teapot at all.

Mai looks at the tea cup getting refilled. She picks it up and gazes at it, occasionally switching the angle to make sure it's not an illusion. She brings the cup to her lips, taking a sip.

"Wow, it's what I was drinking earlier. Even though I don't think I told you the kind of tea." Now that's talent.

"How did your powers get limited? You seem to be pretty adaptable with your spells here."

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No business like show business

B

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C!

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C .... YES! i am so excite for this

I am always excited to RP with someone who is excited!

yay :') your zatanna is ♥

/flattered!

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