Who: Zatanna Zatara What: Arriving in LA When: Night of the 12th Where: Streets of LA status/rating: Complete/PG
Now this was a problem, because the only people who stood on the streets of Los Angeles dressed as she was were called names that her father would have hit a man for saying anywhere near her. Zatanna looked around, instantly recognizing the city of Los Angeles even through the darkness. She'd spent time in the city as a child, passing through whenever Giovani's show had brought them. Of course, as a teenager, she had always changed into costume inside the theater and would have never dared walk the streets in fish nets, heels, and a leotard.
Zatanna put a finger to her lips. "Hmm." An eyebrow raised as she looked around again. Last time she'd checked she'd been in Gotham with Bruce, taking care of Loxias-who-was-really-the-Joker. Bruce had taken her back to the Cave after the accident… which had apparently turned into Los Angeles at some point..
"Well that went wrong," she muttered underneath her breath before raising a hand in front of her. "!mahtoG ot kcaB"
Nothing.
"Really?" Zatanna rolled her eyes. Her next words were more forceful than before. "!won, mahtoG ot kcaB" When she was still standing there five seconds later, she lowered her hand and her lips pursed together. Her powers had been on the fritz, she was more than aware of that, but this was slightly ridiculous. "Fishnets, heels, LA streets in the dark," Zatanna let out a small, sarcastic laugh. "They said I needed to get my confidence back; this is cannot what they meant."
"I've got plenty of confidence, baby."
'Really? Are you serious?' she thought to herself, slowly turning around to eye the source of the voice. Black hair tossed over her shoulder, hands went to her hips, and Zatanna Zatara didn't bat an eyelash when a man with a serious case of the uglies and fangs poking over his lips appeared within her line of vision, looking her body up and down like she was some sort of bedtime snack wrapped in a magician's package.
She never had been much of a superhero, it was something she freely admitted. For her, it was all about the performance. The technique. She liked to help people, that she was good at, but when it came to the business of heroics, she felt she failed. She was too selfish and sometimes, she felt, too involved in the performance. Unlike her former teammates, her main level of defense came from her powers. She couldn't rely on her fighting skills like Black Canary could, and she didn't consider herself anywhere near as brilliant as Batman or Wonder Woman. She couldn't make the choices they did. She'd proved that pretty well only a month or so before. She had her abilities, and no matter how powerful she was, she didn't really see that as enough.
Yeah, she'd sucked at the superhero thing.
But this? Guy with a bumpy face and fangs who felt just near demonic, but wasn't? This was her kind of thing. Zatanna shook her head as it lunged at her and did nothing but hold up a hand and say, ".lleh ot oG"
Now why had that worked while her spell for Gotham hadn't? It was just one of many questions she was sure she was going to be asking within the next few hours.