Re: Gotham: Zatanna, Louis, Eddie
Had she something beside the pulse-beat of adrenaline (a dull-pointed knife turned inexorably toward her own heart, piercing through her rib-cage like a blade through bars) she would have noted the change for what it was. Spun a hand of cards over silk, demanded a palm upturned to hers, drawn her curtain firmly between he and she and shut out the world long enough to discern an answer. But distraction had to wait. There was nothing here but the heavy metal smell on the air and the burned woods and the pulse-point beat of magic easing itself into the ebb and flow of air.
"How?" Her smile gleamed in darkness, sly. The performer showing up both sleeves, no trickery here. Zatanna closed her eyes, sketched something into the air that was gossamer trails on darkness. The shape of a man as it walked toward the suggestion of a circle, and the gossamer man behind the door, who moved as he did, walked as he did. "You must be apart," she said, with certainty. Mimicking life was hard; mimicking it when a pulse beat, the gasp of lungs was just a step or two hence, far harder.
"You must see with his eyes and walk with his feet. We chain you together. You are him, he is you. He speaks with your voice." Her control was keen, the magic lapped at her wrists like hunger. "It will come down to a moment. If he crosses into your connection, he has a moment to reach for you, unless the strings are cut quickly. That is for you and for me, to let go in less than a second, or either of us are at risk. This is dangerous, Edward." The blue eyes were nearly all ink-dark now, flooded.