Re: Gotham: Zatanna, Louis, Eddie
Had she only a performance ahead of her, Zatanna would not have looped back the curtain, gossamer to trail between her humanity and her audience, to keep her secrets for her. But this, the man chained by elements and cold iron in the basement, was no performance. It was a final act, a virtuoso was called for and there were too many unknowns for her to be certain.
She ceased pacing abruptly, as abruptly as she'd begun, and sat, meditation-still as the air shivered and dove three degrees as Zatanna began winding it back into herself, like spooling string.
"I was thinking it would be you," she said, her voice cool and distant, her entire self inward as she slowed her heart-rate with a deliberation that saw it drop from frenetic to the sluggishness of the very calm. Her pupils were shiny-black, and she lifted her face to Edward without truly seeing him - or the him that was not his aura. He was distracted, she knew that, but he had tucked away distraction and she approved. The League was few, but it meant something.
"Your voice. Your movement. His body." A puppeteering spell was difficult, colossally so. Her focus would be on blood, on lungs, on the mimicking of a body while Edward controlled movement, pace, speech. A double-act, and she hadn't had another on stage since her father. It was easier to be sure of yourself when you took your curtain call solo.