tushanshu | Video

[From the moment the feed began, Zatanna's surroundings were a little more visible than usual. The Welcome Center, with her leaning slightly back. Clearly prepared to get comfortable if necessary. As if she planned on sitting there for a while.]

Hey, everyone.

[And to start, she waved at the camera. Master of showmanship, this one.]

Okay, so, most of you probably at least recognize my face by now. Because if not, I'm so not doing my job properly.

I'm Zatanna. I run the Welcome Center, and...well, let's just say there's a reason for that. I've kind of been here a while. Like, a really long while. Including that year we all spent in the Dreaming Realm...probably more than five years by now. Man, time sure does fly when you adjust to your kidnapping, huh?

[Jokes aside...]

A lot's happened in that time. I mean, we're talking everything from zombies to ghost possessions to baby turtles dream-hopping to people's powers getting all messed up. We used to have Emperors, you know. Like an actual monarchy. Oh, and that whole thing with the shell starting to glow? Yeah, that's definitely not new, though I haven't seen it since Ast--I mean, the Great Turtle was busy not being in a coma.

So, yeah, I guess if anybody has any questions on that sort of thing, I'm here to answer them as best as I can. I mean, I figured, share the wealth, you know? Since you all deserve to know what kind of place you were brought to, and how this whole thing all started in the first place.

((ooc: As I mentioned here, I did recently put together a basic list of plot-relevant events of the past for newcomers to check out. But here's a chance for your characters to get in on the story IC. Not ALL of it, of course, and these stories will be told from Zatanna's IC perspective, which can sometimes be a bit misleading or even missing information...but fellow Turtle Veterans are also welcome to join in on conversations. Mix and mingle and possibly threadjack at will!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You forgot to say 'please'

[Just saying. Although, funny enough, if it was magic he wanted to talk about...]

As far as I know, none of the current locals have any magic of their own. The last person I knew who did died a couple of years back. Any remaining magic here comes from those of us who were born with the power in our own worlds.

Please. (Orders come far easier than pleas or even simple courtesies.) And you are certain of this?

(My, my what lovely news.)

[Well, better late than never.]

100%? No. Magic DOES exist here. I even have a couple old kedanese spell books, though half of them look more like Wiccan-esque traditions than anything legitimately powerful. But if there are any locals with the power, they're staying hidden.

Would you mind sharing those books? I would not need them for long.

(He devours knowledge.)

Their Magic - present or not - intrigues me. If anything can be gained by learning it, I do not mind researching.

[She would never frown upon the idea of wanting to learn more. However--]

No offense, but I'd rather keep these books close to me. Sentimental value and all that.

[Also, one of them was a very important reminder of what happened when she irresponsibly tried mixing kedan magic with her own. Spoiler Alert: it took nearly a week to un-break the city.]

I mean, you're welcome to stop by and see them, but they're staying right here in the Welcome Center.

Then perhaps we can meet in person while I peruse them?

(He won't give in so easily.)

Understood. You should expect me shortly.

(Unsupported flight really does make traveling easy.)

Not at all. I assume you know where the Welcome Center is.

[Where the young woman in question will, in fact, be waiting behind the counter. Beyond the main common area, where there was enough open space and even a few plush sofa seats over by a faux roaring fire. Though also waiting will be more than a couple protective magic wards covering each of the entrances of the Center. They would also be easily detected by anyone sensitive to magic. They would keep no individual from entering, but were meant to protect any violence of damage to the building itself. ]

[Except for the one leading to the back of the room. Her living quarters. THAT one, nobody but Zatanna would be able to get through without either her permission...or breaking the ward itself.]

I do. (And with that succinct reply, he makes the journey, flying in a manner most of his kind would consider impossible. One only needs the right amount of talent and willpower to accomplish such feats and he is quite proud of this accomplishment. Magical laws are not often - if ever - broken.

He lands gracefully before the Welcoming Center, hood drawn over his ghastly features. Then he walks inside, his wand tucked up his sleeve.)

Excuse me? Are you the one with the books?

[Zatanna looked up, ready to affirm the question when...she caught sight of the wardrobe, and raised an eyebrow.]

I am.

...is it that cold out or something?

(He smirks in the shadows, eyes gleaming red.)

No. Now may I see the books?

[Creepy.]

Yeah, sure. Ekam eht skoob raeppa.

[The latter sentence seemed to echo as a small puff of smoke appeared. Swirling around the air before it dissipated in a single blow, leaving behind two floating books. Slowly, they lowered themselves down on the table between them, before spinning around so he could get a better look.]

This one here--[she motioned to the book on the right]--talks about some old school traditions. I've actually been a part of one of them before. This was years ago, of course, but it was a pretty memorable experience for someone who grew up in the mystic arts.

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