ᴍɪsᴛʀᴇss ᴏғ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ (logomancer) wrote in goagainthread, @ 2020-09-14 22:43:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !thread: complete, dc: zatanna zatara, she-ra: catra |
WHO: Zee & Catra
WHAT: Catra is potentially going to join the circus!
WHERE: South Kensington, London
WHEN: Today
WARNINGS: Noooooot really?
STATUS: Complete
South Kensington was a very quaint London neighborhood, plenty to see when taking walks along the cobbled streets, wide and leafy. Plenty of goodies to pick up from the farmer’s market (1 bunch of rhubarb for 2£), plenty of grand and historic buildings to marvel at or snap artsy photos of. When Zee had a moment (which was rare), she sort of loved to wander by Kensington Palace - the pond in front was always filled with ducks, which was so pure and serene that she just had to stop and appreciate the whole thing. Royal Albert Hall was where her current Cirque du Soleil troupe put on their shows a few times a week - during the day, she’d get up and do what normal people did; have breakfast, brew a cup of tea in her small apartment near the venue, check her email. Then she’d spend a good chunk of time getting her hair and makeup done for the afternoon show, and when that was finished she’d take a nap - get some winks in, to be fresh for the evening show. Dinner didn’t come until very, very late and usually it was just whatever took the least amount of effort (she tried to cook in large amounts on her days off, to have stuff to heat up) - or curry takeout, from one of the many all-night places nearby. Now, during that slot between the afternoon and evening shows, she was informed she was to give a potential new employee a tour - someone who would be joining the acrobatics act, which was exciting. Actually, once Zee heard who it was, she volunteered to give the tour despite not being an acrobat herself - but she knew Catra from pole dancing classes, and wanted to be hospitable. “So what do you think?” she asked; they’d circled back to the main lobby, and Zee (dressed in short shorts and fishnets, a t-shirt thrown over it all - her outfits were kind of caught in between functional and ‘for work’ during this time of day) had shown her all she could in the dome-shaped architectural wonder. The infamous pipe organ, all the best views, and also took her backstage to meet some of the other acrobats. “It’s a fun life, the circus life. But I’m a little biased. I’ve been in it since I was born.” Potential, yes. Catra had decided to take a chance on a whim, see what was there. She was spry and flexible, knew what it felt to fly in the air and go from handsprings to backflips (thanks to her history of cheer which wasn’t always pom-poms and skirts, but grueling and very physically taxing). Her body had kept up its strength and petite from through various activities since then. Her other half was always more about strength training and brute force sort of workouts, and she preferred something a little sleeker - the pole fitness, aerial silks and hoops. Cardio was thrown in there sometimes too; she had always been fast on her feet. Zatanna had mentioned it before anyway, something about how they’d been looking for acrobats. She had some research. The way their bodies contorted, handling poses and swings from heights - Catra was used to that. Did she ever think she could apply those skills to a fucking circus? Not a chance, but here she was checking it out. It was - wow. “It’s a lot more than I expected,” Catra admitted, scratching her cheek in a sheepish kind of manner. She had been fresh out of an aerial class before she made the teleport over, so she was all shimmery leggings and a crop-top sweatshirt that gave away the faint outline of abdominal muscles. “I knew it was flashy but this is really - it’s a lot of spotlights. I’ve never been to one of these?” It seemed like one of those milestones you’d reach as a child but, yeah - her shitty time in the system didn’t allow for Disney trips, let alone circus trips. The luckiest she ever got was probably local fairs, if she recalled correctly. “How do you even juggle this schedule because I think that’s what scares me, if we’re honest.” She had an existing job waiting tables and while she fucking hated it the cash tips were pretty great - she’d probably want to keep that on the side for a few nights here and there. “It’s sort of difficult, but this is my only job - my full-time job,” Zee replied. She knew that Catra had her life going on back in New Orleans, and probably wasn’t going to pack up and move to London to be with the troupe 24/7, but not all of the circus employees did that. “I’m basically doing every show. You could probably do part-time shows though?” she suggested, hands slipped into the pockets of her shorts, as she rocked back on her heels, thinking. “Just do afternoon shows, or the evening shows.” This sort of thing required some thought and consideration - but Zee was confident that Catra would make a good addition to the team. It was just a matter of learning the routines and working in conjunction with the other acrobats. She canted her head toward the side door. “We can grab a coffee and talk about it more? Like right now I’m in between shows so there’s time. I won’t have to be back til later.” Every show, yikes. Catra wondered if she ever got performer burnout or something? But Zee also said she literally grew up with the troupe, it had been her entire life. Maybe not. “Yeah, I’m down,” she agreed pretty easily. They had participated in a few pole classes before - she had a good vibe about her, and the whole memory bonding thing. Shared weirdness made it easy to socialize, she guessed. She adjusted the straps of the tiny backpack she wore in replacement of some kind of purse and went for the door, holding it out open for her. “Lead me where and I’ll buy? I’ve ever been in this part of the world at night shitfaced like the degenerate young adult I am,” Catra smirked. Those were the days, alas. Lately she’d been behaving. “I hope there’s fancy scones.” Zee smiled, though it tipped cherry-red lips upward in more of a smirk mirroring Catra’s own. “Lots of fancy scones, and other treats,” she promised. “Right this way.” It was only a short walk to the café from here, no need to get on the tube. You could practically smell it from a distance away regardless, all those pastries that were more like works of art than actual baked goods - it was a cute little place too, one of Zee’s favorites and she’d stop for a wake-up sometimes because they made a good breakfast panini; the rye bread was baked fresh every morning, the exterior was a pretty shade of pastel green, potted plants framed the doorway, and there were a bunch of eclectic portraits hanging inside. She was debating a couple of macarons, honestly. And a coffee, so she’d bounce out of the place as opposed to walking. “They liked you,” Zee noted, referring to the other acrobats, while her and Catra got in line. “And I’ve seen you in action. You could learn the routines easily.” Hell yeah, Catra was ready to get caffeinated - bring on the iced bean water. The place was quaint and smelled awesome. Reminded her of a few places from where she lived now, except the outside was a lot cleaner, and there wasn’t a drug peddler trying to pass off a bag of thyme as marijuana. And somehow, everything around these parts just looked so adorable and classy at the same time?? Very Pinterest-esque, from what she knew of that damn pit of a website anyway. When it was their turn to order she got herself their largest iced coffee, nothing sweet or fancy because she liked it dark and bitter like her soul or something. She and Zee were on the same wavelength too because damn, the macarons looked good. A couple of those were ordered for here with some to take back home. Adora would devour them. “I did competitive cheer in high school so I’m used to routines,” Catra explained. This circus stuff, though - a whole different level. Like, levels above of what she had done, but she felt as if she could learn and adapt. “I just - I don’t know, I don’t wanna wait tables forever. I wanted to be a space pirate when I was six but that’s the farthest I’ve thought about my future as an adult.” For Zee, it was a large coffee too - iced - and she was usually a tea drinker but what the hell. This was a special occasion. It wasn’t everyday that she got to give a potential new employee a tour, and break up her afternoon with something more exciting than a nap. There were some flavorings in that drink though, lavender almond milk, and she was looking forward to the addition of the simple syrup. A pistachio macaron was selected to go with - and salted caramel, because why not. She received her wares and headed for a table so they could sit and enjoy for a minute. “A space pirate is a noble goal,” Zatanna chuckled, poking her straw around in her cup. Come to think of it, she never really considered what she wanted to be, beyond in the circus or a performer of some kind. Maybe she was just destined for the stage lights. “It could always lead to other opportunities down the line too. Teaching, or choreography, or whatever. Maybe best to start small? That way if you change your mind you can just bounce,” she suggested. Catra didn’t have to do Cirque du Soleil forever either, but it made for a decent stepping stone. “Yeah, that’s true,” Catra hummed, legs crossed once she was seated. The straw from her coffee was a casualty of nibbling - an anxious little tick. “Hadn’t thought of it that way. It’s cheaper than trying to figure things out through college courses and paying out the ass for tuition, anyway.” So, yeah. Why the fuck not? She was young, had time to experiment with different paths in life. Never did she think the circus was an option, but hey. Stranger things have been happening. “So what’s your plan?” she countered, leaning forward to lean her cheek into the bed of her palm. “You’ve got this actual honest-to-god magic thing going on, don’t you? Like the real thing? Are you sticking with the troupe or are you ever gonna do your own thing?” The concept of magic existing made her nerves knot up a little but, you know, keeping an open mind about that kind of shit - considering her significant other might eventually get a magic weapon one day. Zatanna did indeed have that honest-to-god magic thing going on - it felt like she always did, because when she absorbed the memory of her pouring over textbooks scented faintly of spice and dust, new spells to learn and practice, that crackle in her veins was a familiar sort of friend. It had only grown stronger, the more she went to Seattle. “It’s definitely real,” she confirmed, and the meeting at her South Kensington apartment was plenty of proof, even if she hadn’t really been questioning it before - they all did their little demonstrations, and Zee embraced the whole thing rather than pushing away from it. “I - don’t know though. The ‘me’ I currently remember is young and still figuring things out.” Not that she was old now, per se, but she had a steady job already and was making her own way. “I’d kind of like to design my own act? Branch off, do my own thing?” As she said the words, she realized how true they were. Oh boy. Definitely real. Catra knew, but she guessed someone going through it cemented the fact - that the whole magic thing could translate over, be learned, inherited. Whatever the case. She had read some talk about it on the forum and had held her breath over it. It wasn’t a speculation anymore. Just a fact. She pushed the straw around her plastic cup, moving the melting ice cubes. A macaron she had picked for herself remained untouched. Catra made a note to at least bite into it at some point. “I mean - what else could you do with something like that?” she asked, honestly. “Around here, anyway. In this version of things. I have memories of magic being used in battle but there’s no war here, no conflict. Don’t see why you can’t use it to roll in some profits.” “Let’s hope there’s no upcoming war,” Zee winced, though she wouldn’t be surprised. The world she saw in her memories wasn’t exactly stable - and Gotham was a city where literal, actual blood soaked into the ground along with the evil essence of a warlock. So it too was tainted with magic and what that meant, well, she didn’t know. She’d much prefer turning some profit. One of her macarons was picked up - the pistachio one - and she let a bite crumble in her mouth. Mmm. Nothing wrong with treating herself - she watched her diet most of the time, since she unfortunately knew that she couldn’t get up on stage not fitting into her tophat and tails. But she was a vegetarian anyway, so she avoided meat and ate a lot of fresh produce, getting protein through eggs, lentils, and other delights. “I’d probably still stay with the troupe while I figure it out,” she said. “I mean, none of us have to pick something and stick with it forever, right? Things change.” Maybe it was worth turning the cards to see what path she may go on. Suspiciously, there wasn’t some kind of violent uprising going on in any part of the world from what Catra knew - which was a strange contrast of this other life she lived, war torn and chaotic and still somehow sparkly with bullshit princess magic (and other kinds, like the bad kind). Then again, Etheria was a totally different planet anyway, so. Phew, she guessed. The weirdest thing for now was that fucking Memory Center and all the shit it held for them behind closed doors and that should probably be more concerning than anything. “Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s true. I just hate feeling aimless and, I don’t know - the Seattle thing throws off the vibe of going about with your life like a normal person.” That macaron was picked up and examined closely, like - has she eaten one of these before? Probably not; her diet was usually crap like ramen and hot pockets and the occasional ice cream pint. This thing looked so dainty and fancy, and she bit into it for a taste test. Oh, yeah. Good shit. Adora was going to die for these. “Sure, past lives, it’s said and done and you can’t change them but also fuck them, y’know?” Catra also probably hated hers more than most because all she saw was a bundle of hatred and hurt working on the worst side of the war just to make a certain someone hurt too. It probably wouldn’t be as bad if she didn’t know that certain someone or, hell - loved them and lived with them here? “Definitely fuck them,” Zee agreed. There was a lot of intrigue about her past life, but also a lot of sadness and regret - already, at such a young age. She never knew her mother, only understood that once upon a time she’d been very powerful and now she was gone. Her father was gone too, accidentally killed by the man she professed to love while fighting, what else, the magical presence of something bad. It felt like Zee couldn’t get much right in that world, but she found a way to keep on fighting somehow. Here, it was a lot different but she wasn’t complaining about that. “I guess we have to decide what it means for us now - but even so, we’re stuck figuring it out on someone else’s terms which is a raw deal,” she said. They only got ‘invitations’ once a month, sometimes twice, and they all collectively knew fuck all about why this was happening. Or how. We’re stuck figuring out on someone else’s terms. Oh fuck, yes, that - Catra didn’t know how to put it into words but Zee had the eloquence for it and, in the heat of the moment, she smacked her hand on the table. “Exactly! That’s the part that’s - mind your business.” That was to a couple a table away from them that had been startled and looked their way. Could they not, though? She was trying to have a fucking conversation here. She grumbled around the plastic straw after taking a gulpful of iced coffee. “Anyway - what the hell even is this? You know the magic thing. Is this magic? Did we get cursed and thrown somewhere by some evil witch hag? Is this a multiverse thing? We can’t all be in a coma, can we?” Was it possible to bomb the Memory Center? Would it count as an act of terrorism? Catra had a lot of questions and zero answers, it was infuriating. Zee chuckled huskily behind her iced coffee - the Londoners looked positively scandalized. Surely ‘Americans,’ with an exasperated eyeroll, happened to be where their train of thought was going but she couldn’t be arsed to care right now anyway. “Cursed and thrown somewhere by a witch hag? I doubt it - but I guess you never know. It’d have to be some really powerful magic,” she mused. “Since we all remember different worlds with its own laws of magic - some worlds don’t even have magic. I kind of want to figure it out though - or at least try.” It was natural to want to, right? She wasn’t the type to just go along with things. “We can be detectives,” she winked. And if it involved bombing the memory center, so be it. Well. Maybe not that intense at first. Definitely ‘American,’ though that was just Catra in general - she had a mouth, could often be described as bratty and scowled a lot more than she smiled. If only she had her fangs and could muster up that deep, beastly rumble of a growl - they would have pissed off for sure, maybe pissed themselves in general too. But alas. All she had was this very human skin and voice and nails (if only they were claws ugh) so she had to make due. “Don’t joke, I’ll buy a magnifying glass and everything,” she snorted. Catra was on the same boat, though. Going along with it was frustrating and making her extra grouchy because she didn’t want this and she guessed she could technically stop going to the Center, but that wouldn’t solve anything. Bliss in ignorance could only be temporary. “I mean, the only thing that could explain this is some kind of powerful magic? Unless someone else can explain it with science. I don’t have the brains for either.” Her skills were - what? Being super flexible at the moment? Sure, that was helpful. “Magic would be my first instinct,” Zee agreed. “Science is not my thing either. Could be a combo of both. It’s just really strange that no one seems to work at the memory center, and the one person who does won’t give any info.” Seriously, she’d tried - the receptionist at the front desk was good for checking her in and telling her which room to go to, that was it. Any other questions were met with a blank-eyed stare. Because sure. That wasn’t creepy at all. “But maybe that’s a place to start. Exploring the place beyond the hallway with all the memory rooms.” Zee had gone alone thus far, not really having anyone to ask to join her, so next trip? It would be something of a recon mission, perhaps. Couldn’t hurt. “Alright, partner in crime - “ She stuffed another macaron in her mouth because thinking about this too much could be frustrating and you only lived once, “...let’s get you back to the circus so you can meet the rest of the freaks. And decide if you really want to join our little family or not.” “Ohhhhh,” Catra blinked, and then just like that - her face twisted into something devious. “A stealth mission. I like that.” Sneaking around was a skill she had sharpened and honed throughout her life (lives, actually). Quiet, careful; don’t wake the witch bitch. Aside from the receptionist whose responses were equivalent to wet toilet paper there didn’t seem to be anyone else prowling about - but who knew. It was probably in their best interest to act like there was anyway. But, yeah. Definitely something to sit on. Another thirsty sip of her coffee was taken as Zee spoke, and Catra’s response was a quick nod as she gathered the small box of take home macarons. “Right, right - the rest of the freak show,” she chuckled. “I’m definitely going to want to talk about negotiating the amount of glitter in these acts, too. Everyone’s so…” Guh. “Sparkly.” Show biz was apparently shiny, but hey - not a total dealbreaker, worse case scenario. |