19040/Magical Girl Meet!

Magical Girl Meet!
Date of Scene:	09 September 2024
Location:	Themysciran Embassy - First Floor
Synopsis:	Zee and Amy meet for tea!
Cast of Characters:	Amy Winston, Zatanna Zatara

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Amy Winston has posed:
In the golden light of the early afternoon, Amy Winston stood in the expansive courtyard of the Themysciran embassy, her mist-silk dress flowing around her like a veil of shimmering fog. The courtyard was a sanctuary of ancient architecture, carved stone columns entwined with ivy, and the scent of sea air carried on a light breeze; a place that felt like it belonged to another world, much like herself.

Her sword flashed in the rising sunlight as she moved through the practiced motions, each swing precise, controlled. The weight of the blade felt natural in her hands, an extension of her magic and her will. With every arc, she focused on her breathing, on the connection between body and spirit. Her muscles, honed through years of battle, flexed and relaxed in perfect rhythm, the steel gleaming as it cut through the air.

But it wasn't just her swordplay she practiced. Amy's eyes briefly closed as she let her magical senses stretch out, feeling the pulse of the courtyard itself: the ancient magic woven into its stones, the whispers of history clinging to the air. She could feel her bloodline stirring within her, a mix of House Amethyst and House Turquoise magic weaving together. Raising her free hand, she summoned a crystalline barrier before her, a shimmering wall of violet light that hummed with energy.

With a swift motion, she shattered the barrier with a strike of her sword, watching as the shards dissolved into the air, vanishing like mist. Sweat beaded at her brow, but her expression remained serene, focused. Each movement was a dance, a delicate balance between her two worlds: earthbound warrior and Nilaian princess.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The favourable light in afternoon renders even the grey canyons of Manhattan beautiful, though at most other daylight hours they're too noisy, dirty, and crammed full of people to claim that name. The financial district of the Upper East Side isn't pretty, it's overwhelming. Further up the road, things are considerably more upscale but no less frantic in a different way.

Zatanna refuses to cave to the urgent demands to part with her money or be rushed along in an Uber, whisked off to some other destination. She walks with ease through the street, a small bag on her forearm, the name of a discreet boutique stamped in the corner. Her light summer dress might cost a very pretty penny or merely ape at wealth. It doesn't matter. She fits in, luxuriating in the pulse of people and being caught up in it. She doesn't need magic or use cosmetic spells to enhance her appearance. One cannot hide what she is though from senses seeking that truth. Twice over a daughter of two illustrious sorcerous lines--sound familiar? She's used to detecting active magic but rarely with such precision from the street.

Except at exclusive locales, and the embassy where she finds herself in proximity to is one of them. The tease of hard-edged power differs from the feminine sacred that often permeates the place. No stranger to it, though. Her lips part in a smile, and her path alters of its own accord to those halls hallowed by the goddesses of the Olympian pantheon. Dark curls sweep off her shoulder, carried in a breeze that only briefly kicks up to relieve the thick humidity. Call it inspiration to darken the doorstep with a proverbial smile.

Amy Winston has posed:
Amy paused mid-swing, the crystalline shimmer of her magic fading into the air like the last remnants of a vanishing spell. She could feel it; a presence, familiar yet distinct, moving through the currents of the city. Her connection to the magic surrounding the Themysciran embassy was strong, and the pulse of power approaching felt almost like a soft knock on the edge of her awareness. Zatanna.

She felt that energy, that effortless grace that Zatanna brought wherever she went. As the sorceress drew closer, the difference between their magic was stark-Amy's crystalline, sharp and ancient, tied to Nilaa and her combat training, while Zatanna's was smooth, an undercurrent of something timeless yet malleable, steeped in earthbound arcane traditions.

Lowering her sword, Amy took a deep breath, letting her senses adjust to the more grounded hum of the city beyond the embassy's enchanted wards. She pushed a loose strand of hair back, already feeling the shift in the air as Zatanna's presence drew near. Despite the bustle and noise of Manhattan, the magic they both carried set them apart, two daughters of powerful legacies bound by arcane bloodlines.

As the sorceress came into view, her dark curls swept back by the breeze, Amy allowed herself a moment of quiet admiration. Zatanna fit so perfectly into the city's rhythm, yet her aura held the weight of something ancient. She looked entirely at ease-casual, composed, but Amy could sense the sharp mind behind the easy smile.

And despite her dress as something from a Magical Girl anime mixed with a fantasy adventure, she spoke with the ease of someone born and raised in the city. "Hello." she says as she puts her sword away and offers a slight curtsey in greetings. "I am Amythest, it is nice to meet you." A smile blooms on her face, easy and carefree in front of the dark-haired woman.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
So many overlapping presences saturate New York. Chaos swirling faintly around the Avengers Mansion not so far away gives a strong taste, and in another direction the more ordered, immense power a beacon in Greenwich Village. Zee doesn't live amidst the beacons of arcane prowess in the same way, but Gotham isn't ten million people strong with the highest concentration of supernaturally-capable people in the same way as the Big Apple. Plucking one crystalline strand from the proverbial haystack that contains equally many potent presences takes her a longer moment than she might ever confess to. A matter of habit by this point, the white noise assaulting her attuned senses pushed away to reel in that curious, interesting note.

Just as she refines her palate to certain tastes, she enjoys the unexpected vintage among a variety of more standard offerings. Especially among the sisterhood that followed Diana here for reasons obvious and concealed. Her breath catches as she steps into the building, greeting the discreet guards with a word, a polite nod of her chin. Nothing to suggest concern and a rush. They've had enough of that in the dulcet hours before a storm descends, one very large and very feared.

The magician's garb that would mark her out isn't present, but the way she stands to address an audience of one or two thousand applies. Public face is on, public persona set to bright and charming. This centres and collapses down to a point of Amy in her fading veil of magic and the impressive blade work fading into memory but indelibly marked on the air. "Hello," she replies in turn. Excellent English, a hint of Italian to her sultry alto voice. Her smile imparts the same welcome she received, giving her blonde acquaintance a swift survey before she nods in greeting. "Amethyst. Zatanna, though 'Zee' if you find it easier. I hadn't expected to interrupt a session. My apologies if I distracted you from your work."

Amy Winston has posed:
The magic in the courtyard had changed, a delicate ripple that was unmistakably tied to someone with immense power. She turned, her gaze falling on the dark-haired woman now standing at the entrance to the courtyard.

Zatanna Zatara-Amy recognized her immediately from the stories, though they'd never met before. "I remember watching your specials on television. Was always really impressed with your showmanship." she admits with a smile. "'Zee' then. You can call me Amy, if you prefer."

She dismisses her sword, catching the small gem she made it from before tucking it away, and straightened her skirts, a light dusting over her body.

Amy's smile lingered, soft and welcoming but without presumption. She took a breath, easing the tension from her shoulders after her practice session. "You didn't interrupt anything," she assured gently. "I was just finishing up."

There was no grand gesture, no bold proclamation of shared magic or power-just a quiet, genuine acknowledgment of Zatanna's presence. Stepping a little closer, Amy studied her new acquaintance with mild curiosity, though she kept her tone light. "I wasn't expecting visitors, but I suppose New York an magic has a way of bringing people together."

Her hand drifted to the side, gesturing toward the tea shop. "Would you care to join me for a moment? It's a little quieter here than out there," she added with a small smile, her offer simple and sincere. A shared space of calm between two strangers, for now.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Magic recognizes its like, the same way celebrities seem to identify one another in the crowd through hats, hoodies, and oversized sunglasses. Other people share that same talent for recognizing their own despite the great challenges brought by crowd density or distractions. The embassy hardly has many of those, quiet and esteemed, more akin to a temple in the heart of Rome or Athens. An art gallery, more like, hushed and graceful instead of a place where the agora comes to life.

Zatanna threads her fingers around the bag slipping down past her wrist and exchanges it to her left hand where the negligible volume won't bother anyone or intrude on a good conversation. "You have seen my shows? Very lucky for me indeed to have a fan here," she replies. "I am glad you enjoyed them. Preserving the art while entertaining is a high bar."

A few steps draw her closer to Amy, but not overbearing on the other woman. Magical girls need magical space without making arcane assumptions about what is comfortable. "There's an old saying about all roads leading to Rome. Don't tell anyone there, but they go here now. I am far from surprised by who I meet in the most unexpected, enjoyable places."

Her wedge sandals don't much tap as she walks, careful to suppress the noise rather than interrupt the meditations or work of on eof the Amazons possibly in residence. It's so hard to say who is or isn't one around here. Her eyes brighten at the suggestion. "Tea always goes well with everything. The perfect accessory or escape. My treat, as you picked the place?"

Amy Winston has posed:
As Zatanna closed the distance between them, Amy took note of the respectful way she navigated the space, mindful of the environment and those who might be nearby. She returned the compliment with a nod, her smile softening. "Indeed, this world seems to be a city where paths cross in the most intriguing ways."

When Zatanna accepts the offer for tea, Amy's eyes twinkled with approval. "Tea it is, then," she agreed, her voice warm. "And I suppose since that is fair, though I will want to pay next time. It's not every day one meets someone with such a keen understanding of our shared world." she says with a coy wink.

She gestured toward a quieter corner of the courtyard where a small seating area was set up, offering a space for their conversation to flow. "Let's find a spot where we can enjoy a moment of peace away from the city's bustle. I'm sure we'll have plenty to discuss."

"And if this is more than conversation, perhaps I should look more the part." A hand smoothes over her dress and the silk responds to her touch, changing shape and form until it's a summery gown that first around her youthful frame. "Much better."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Some people stride confidently across the world like they own it. Others skulk. Zatanna is more on the former end of the spectrum, but less own and more dazzle. She has a long stride even in those wedges and moves a little as if under the spotlights right then and there. It could be true; the embassy for Themyscira has many ears and eyes that could report back to her fellow Justice League member, Diana, and she wouldn't ever dare to be less than polite or respectful.

"I suspect we end up where we need to be more often than not. If that's mere chance or something greater, well." Rolling her bare shoulder tugs on the straps of her dress, the smooth ripple disrupting the light pattern printed on the fine material. Her pivot to point back to the door is easy and unrushed. Something to be said about two people ready to press into the flow of traffic rather than one. It's much easier to cross a street and secure a table, more importantly, when the rush of off-hour diners or workers getting late lunches among the society ladies works in someone's disfavor. Call it a stroke of luck for them to have a spot shaded lightly by the greenery and a pretty blue sun umbrella stretched wide, marked by solar lights that ensure the evening has a certain Parisian flair.

Following Amy or accompanying her, which is it? Either. "I so rarely get to enjoy a light conversation these days. It's always business of one kind or another. Considering the gift you gave me, it's only right to pay that forward." Her bag ends up tucked under her chair, the clothes or accessories inside not making much of a sound. She waits for Amethyst to sit before doing so herself, gliding around the front of the chair. A few quick checks for cutlery and napkins in a proper state needs no mention except that the white cloth blooms over her pale skirt, protecting it from what might come. A spilled glass of wine, no. Honey? Only time will tell. "Are you new to the city? If so you picked excellent friends to make. Diana is a wonderful hostess and acquaintance to have."

Amy Winston has posed:
Amy's gaze followed Zatanna's graceful movements with a mixture of admiration and amusement. The other woman's presence was indeed commanding, like a beacon amidst the understated elegance of the embassy. Amy appreciated the poise with which Zatanna navigated their surroundings, her demeanor effortlessly reflecting the confidence and charm that characterized her. Not that the Princess did not have her own regalness, well trained, in every step she took.

"As it often seems," Amy replied, her tone light but thoughtful. "There's a certain magic in how paths cross, whether by chance or by something more deliberate. It feels as though we find ourselves where we're meant to be, and sometimes, that's all the guidance we need."

She moved smoothly towards the shaded seating area, where the ambiance was just as inviting as Zatanna had described. The soft glow of solar lights and the lush greenery created a serene, almost whimsical atmosphere. but before she took a seat in her own chair, Amy took a moment to pull out Zatanna's for hers, her movements graceful and relaxed.

"I'm glad we could find a moment like this," Amy said, her smile warm. "It's easy to get caught up in the busyness of our roles, and it's nice to have a chance to simply enjoy good company and conversation."

As Zatanna tucked her bag and prepared her place with an almost ritualistic care, Amy's appreciation for her new acquaintance deepened. She watched with interest, noting the attention to detail in Zatanna's preparation.

"Thank you for the kind words about Diana," Amy continued, settling comfortably into her seat. "I've had the pleasure of knowing her for some time now. Her hospitality is truly unmatched. Her and her sister have been kind hostesses to me."

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "As for me, I've spent some time here recently after a couple of years overseas, but I'm always up for discovering new facets of the city. It's a place of endless surprises. What about you? Have you been in the city long, or is this a new adventure for you as well?"

And then when she realizes that Zatanna is waiting for her to sit, the Princess giggles softly. "My manners." she offers with a soft smile. "Trying to determine the etiquette for tea with a lovely woman."