400/Battle of the Boning

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Battle of the Boning
Date of Scene: 09 March 2020
Location: Vintage Shopping Center and Lingerie Shop
Synopsis: Illyana battles a corset and loses. Heidi and Zatanna meet and become friends. Flying ponies are promised!
Cast of Characters: Zatanna Zatara, Heidi Ingerdottir, Illyana Rasputina




Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"I'm just saying, yes, I could probably just make my own hoisery, or just repair it, but there's something about shopping that's just theraputic!" Zatanna is announcing as she's looped arms with Illyana as the pair of them enter the upscale boutique. "Plus, if you see the stitching on the corsets, it's //amazing//. They're just so pretty. I'm thinking about something with a steampunk astetic for my next show."

Then she lets Illyana in on a secret. "The Genosha show may be my farewell performance. I've been grinding at this for three years. And while I love it... I want some time to focus on me. And the things that are happening. I can feel the change in the air, along the lines of magic. I don't know what Strange is protecting us from, but it really has made me only more curious." she admits with a stubborn lift of her chin.

She's dressed in a pair of black slacks with a loose peasant's blouse, her hair loose and draped behind hers shoulders in a dark curtain as her sapphire eyes drink in the shop. "Plus they have a perfumery here, and can create a custom scent for you!"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Dressed in a long skirt and loose-fitting shirt under a long brown jacket, her hair in one braid wrapped around her head, the Asgardian woman looks more out of place than anything. Her choice of dress in this case is a little more hippy than remotely close to anything in the shop surrounding her. Heidi is currently peering through racks and... trying to figure out what everything is. There are some garments she's not sure /are/ garments.

"Is this /common/ for here?" Her brow furrows.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Therapeutic about shopping? This mystery is utterly lost on the blonde descendent of Grigori Rasputin. Perhaps the name has something to do with it. Who would issue /her/ a credit card? Not even Capital One is willing to put money in the wallet of a mad prophet's granddaughter removed by a generation. Or perhaps the slightly dubious look is purely there to confound the unsuspecting magician who cavorts among her happiest of places full of corsetry and stockings and sparkly things.

"A final show? It will raise interest. Crowds and money." The calculus is a bit cropped while the lithe Russian faces a stack of possibilities ahead of her. No doubt they who see Zatanna first might be thinking about commissions and sales. Illyana merely has that distant, forbidding stare saying 'no help please.' Right? Either way, she is about as unimpressive as one can get, wearing an oversized t-shirt over leather pants. If anyone could possibly use sartorial help? There she is. "Perfume?"

Quoi? Oh /hello/. Her attention turns to the umbral-tressed magician. Then back to the Asgardian, the murmur reaching her. Sharp hearing helps. "I think those are pants."

Says the girl who wears short-shorts into combat. Sometimes. Only because the armour can grow to cover her.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The good news for Illyana is that Zatanna offered to cover the purchases. She wanted the company, and bringing one of her best girlfriends with her was optimal. Then she grins at the platinum trussed Russian. "Oh please, please don't tell me you've never bought something sexy just to say you have it!" she laughs. "You /have/ seen my wardrobe, right?" Zatanna's YouTube videoes have to be signed into because she's a bit burlesque, and the army of corsets she has fits the crime, from half coverage to bust revealing to downright devilish and angelic all at once.

Victoria's Secrets just don't cut it for her. "While raising money is the general idea, it's not really a stunt. I want to step out of the public light for a while." she admits quietly, before she nods to Illyana. "You tell them what scents you like, and they mix it up for you. It's pretty amazing!" And then, like her companion, Zatanna's eyes are drawn to the statuesque Asgardian and her question. The magician stiffles a laugh with her free hand, before offering. "Common? Not hardly. But if you want to dress to make yourself feel amazing and sensual, this is the place to do it! Or you know, you want to surprise that special someone in your life. But I mainly shop here for work clothes."

Loaded statement number one for the night away.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"I do not think I've ever seen anyone on the street wearing these," Heidi takes another look at the 'pants' and holds them up high. "They do look pretty, though I'm not entirely sure how practical lace is. I suppose if you were dressing for some kind of costume ball?" She's at a loss for the actual purpose of said garments until she remembers the mention of a 'special someone'. "Oh! Are these for..."

She trails off, unsure of exactly how she wants to phrase it. So she doesn't.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Victorian secrets involve bloomers as wide as they are tall, and a good amount of leg coverage with a dubious, unpleasant frill somewhere around the ankles so that gentlemen aren't driven wild. Cankles for everyone. Illyana suffers not such horrors, not when there are other alternatives at least in the correct century. Just trust in the lady who wears such things on a daily basis, professionally, to steer her right. She meets that enthusiasm with something akin to a blank slate of an expression, a tabula rasa of forbidding arctic ice not yet shaped totally into a frown or a smirk or a smile. The latter being nearly unknown. "Not all of it. Your closets are private." No peering around corners and whipping open portals, nope. "Clothes are..." She spreads her hands, wiggling her fingers. "Practicality. Usually."

Right, because oversized t-shirts torn up a bit Debbie Harry style, or sweaters sloping off her shoulder are Illyana's stock in trade. She is a naive creature here, ahd that might draw out the sharks in search of a lamb. A lamb with vibranium wool and fangs of the same, but a sacrifice to fashion and beauty all the same. "Sensual has your picture in the dictionary," she obliges Zatanna with a deadpan delivery that could suggest her face is also found next to the definition for extemporaneous or handkerchief or ouzo.

A simple statement made thus, she nods to Heidi. "These clothes are not for anything dangerous, like walking." A beat. "Performing?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Mmm, smexy ankles. Zatanna cuts her eyes at her blonde companion with a laugh. "Fair! Though maybe when you come over on Friday, we can talk about that." she says with a smile that touches her sapphire eyes in playful delights, though Heidi's question causes a blush and more amusement than not. And if her picture is next to the definition of handkerchief, that's just gross!

But there's a lamb more innocent than Illyana here, and that's Heidi! "Oh, honey, it's not just for sex. It can lead to that though. In the right moment..." she considers, and then nods. "I'll be right back." Stepping away from the pair, she announces over her shoulder. "I'm Zatanna, that's my friend Illyana, though she may be a total traitor at the moment!" She sticks out her tongue, grabbing something off the rack before stepping into the changing area and pulling the curtain closed.

She only grabbed the item for show, because after a moment, she makes a few gestures over her body in a somatic way and announces softly.

"Emitwohs."

A flash of bright light of blue and white, and gone are the clothes she came in, and Zatanna comes out in her clothes she uses on stage. Pumps, leggings that go to a hip-rising corset that undercuts her bust and a white men's dress shirt tucked into a waist length vest. Adjusting the cuffs at the ends of her wrists, she steps out into the display area, the view of her reflected in all three mirrors. No jacket is worn, so it allows for a full view of the woman at every angle. "Sometimes, you just want to make an impression."

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi doesn't seem remotely /uncomfortable/ by the change. It's not that she's embarrassed in the slightest, she just doesn't quite understand why you'd wear it in public. "Usually if I want to make an impression I wear my armor." That's because most of the time she's there to be seen as a warrior and not what...

The Asgardian tilts her head to the side, looking Zatanna over as if trying to figure out the puzzle. "And... it works? People pay attention? What kind of impressions do they have of you in that outfit?" She pauses. "It does look wonderful, though! You seem like you enjoy it."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Smexy Victorian ankles and clunky square heels with arbitrarily polished toes are exactly the sort of thing you use to seduce your Victorian lover, other than floriography and handsome fan signs misinterpreted easily as a case of the vapours or sweltering under three layers of stiff French striped satin in hideous Barnstowe brown. This is the very place the Victorians would have burnt down in a frenzy about the Parisian disease, then fanned themselves some more in order to tighten up their corsets and add another flounce of lace to the neckline, the collar, the bonnet, and the sleeves. Plus one more. Because seeing your shape is next to naughtiness!

The Demon Queen of Limbo here is the ingenue. Gamboling lamb, wandering around the rack of the altar. She says nothing whilst flicking through an appealing selection of striped bodices, striped stomachers, and striped other things that could be unseemly, wide belts. Not even adorned with suspenders for thigh-highs, so perhaps they are merely a bad take on an obi or decorative in some sense. The hangers squeak on the metal bar, and she slinks away to somewhere -slightly- more safe. Look, overbust corsets in thick jacquard and damask patterns? Some have a floral take, another paisley coated in gold, and there are even a few beside that sporting paintings with oval cameo-like insets on the stomach for additional marks. A place to wear one's own favourite Thor or Superman logo? It could well be.

"Hello," she says to Heidi, being polite, ignoring the painted corsets for something -- surprise, black. Albeit black and a lush purple, stricken by a certain glazed quality where the light catches the surface. This might have a prospect. "She is the expert. I am here to look." She counts up the grommets in the back, and laces outdoing a whole hockey team on the ice. Seeing Zatanna vanish, she puzzles over the question of traitor, but then fishes around through the rack for something less risky than frilly and crystal-coated brigthness. "An impression." Oh, right. The shift of the curtain and there comes the stage wear and the famed wearer. "That is an excellent shirt." Oh /dear/. The... shirt. "Yes, it works. Men are stunned when we wear them."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna sticks out her tongue again at Illyana. "If you're going to faux compliment me, at least tell me my ass looks nice." she grumps playfully as the brunette mage turns her attention to Heidi anew. "The purpose is simple. Look at me, I'm fabulous!" she gestures, one hand off her shoulder, the other hand on her hip. But she's putting the pieces together. "Are you Amazonian?" she asks curiously as she steps closer to the towering blonde.

"You definetly have the beauty of one. And the bluntness to match. Not a complaint..." she says as she reaches up behind the Asgardians ear. "I've only met Diana from Themyscaria, to be honest. She's a delight though!"

Her hand disappears from Heidi's periphery, and whispers. "Eurt nioc."

Bringing her hand back from behind Heidi's ear, she's expecting to hold a Themyscarian coin... but is surprised to find herself holding an Asgardian silver Lunar. "Huh." Zatanna says with a coy smile. "Apparently Amazonian should have been Asgardian?"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"I am Heidi, daughter of Inger, of Asgard," Heidi offers. "I am not sure, though, why I wouldn't just want to wear armor instead though. I would look good, feel confident, impress people with my warrior's strength... and I'd be ready for battle at a moment's notice." She glances towards Illyana. "Stunned, you say?" The two of them are observed carefully... they're the experts in this arena. She knows very little about Midgardian clothing.

"It is an excellent style of dress... it is quite flattering. I am certain it makes an impression, I am just uncertain what /kind/ of impression it makes." Her confusion seems to switch from one kind of confusion to another. "... I'm not entirely what sort of impression I'm trying to make either."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"I never lie with complements," Illyana replies with that flat, cool-edged retort that could do very real damage under the proper circumstances. It might be a stretch to imagine her inflicting any physical harm other than causing a flinch and unconvinced half-smile to cover up that discomfort, surely. But she is particularly effective at leveling an unrelenting, focused stare as necessary upon Zatanna. "Your shirt looks better than a man wearing it." Not quite pushing further than that, her fingertips skid along the corset she carries for no purpose other than causing excitement or terror in equal parts for those imagining her wearing it. As if she can figure out trop from bottom.

The appearance of a silver coin in Zatanna's hand goes unnoticed at first, her attention fully on Heidi and their guest's response to this display. "Heidi," she says in greeting. Well, her name is known. And an honest Asgardian it is, which rounds her gaze slightly more. "The armour. Ah."

A hint of a smile lifts at the corner. Just barely. It hardly reaches those eyes, frosty as the primeval ice that Audumla licked the pantheon out of.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"It's nice to meet you, Heidi of Asgard. I am Zatanna, daughter of Giovanni and Sindella, of Shadowcrest." That last word may clue in Heidi. Shadowcrest is known in Asgard as a magic repository, after all. As it is for most of the realms.

Then she grins over at Illyana. "She can introduce herself." she winks over at the blonde and then smiles more warmly. "Now I never knew you to have a silver tongue, Yana!" she points out with a giggle, before she turns her attention back to Heidi.

"So clothes like this. It's just something you want to wear because it's something you enjoy. I love dressing up in this stuff. It speaks to my roots, and of those of my family." she explains. "We work in the arts of magic and sleight of hand." her hands drop back to her mid-section to cover each other. "I usually wear something similar to this when I'm on stage and performing. It draws the eye to me and away from what I'm doing. So in a way, it's my own armor... but your armor, it's magic, right?" she asks curiously.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"Illyana Nikolaevna Rasputina." The second, following her name in classic Russian style, takes the feminized patronymic, striking right along before that damning family name. The one that even people under rocks with an iota of history vaguely recognize, though this is no rap battle calling for a blending of all the misdeeds attributed to her. Titles might be absent there, though she tips her head and those pale eyes attain a deeper intensity than they generally possess. "Of Limbo."

Limbo. Nothing major there except it's a self-contained dimension winding around Yggdrasil, connecting every last realm from Niflheim to Alfheim and the points between unimagined by Asgardian cartographers. No need for Christian ideals of purgatory or Bifrost to travel around that way. Or it's just Limbo, a town somewhere in Maine. Maybe Minnesota. It's sort of in the middle of all and none.

She stares into her reflection for a second, sticking out her tongue just in case. Nope, not forked or chromed. Alas. "A lady's armour. Bad design for actual armour, leaving your chest open and guiding blades up to the most vulnerable places." She says this with little ease, laconic where Zatanna is living sunshine.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"Hail, both of you," Heidi offers with a warm greeting. She does, however, shortly seem to get what the common thread seems to be by the both of them. "Oh, /magic/." Heidi certainly seems to understand now. It explains the garb. Somehow, however, this doesn't seem like the kind of garb Loki would wear. "The question of magic does sort of surprise her. "... my armor is armor. I am no Valkyrie or someone of a grand station... I am merely working my way there." Perhaps her exploits are a little downgraded here, but she's merely trying to express that her armor is simply that--no magical enchantment involved.

"I must say you have an impressive look from that, though I do not think that is a look I'd be particularly good in." It isn't something she's tried, though.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Loki could /not/ make a corset look as good as Zatanna does. Zatanna smiles slightly and corrects. "Magic." Big M, not little M. Heidi might understand the difference. Illyana does totally. "Well, doesn't matter. You said you are new here, right?" she asks curiously. "At least to Midgard?" The young woman offers a smile. "I'm holding an event at my house this weekend for a friend that wants to introduce her new skills. Perhaps you would like to come?" she asks.

"She is the new Maker. She has a hammer than can repair anything!" she explains. "And it's a chance for all of us to get to know each other better and maybe make some new friendships. Do tell me that you'd like to come?" she asks with a smile of pure hope, before she grins. "I should go change out of this, unless you'd like to watch me do so right here?" She'll leave that interpetation to the two women.

Then she adds. "I have a talking dodo in my study." Because //that's a draw//, right?

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
The thought of Loki in a corset is not one that Heidi needed in her mind and she tries to violently shove it out. Not that he would look /bad/ in one, it's just a thought she doesn't want to be having. "Ah, yes, I am new to Midgard, and I am still learning its... ways." Heidi looks blatantly at the not-pant-pants she was holding up earlier. "But it sounds as if your friend has a good skill. I would be pleased to see it." There's a long pause. A very long pause.

"... what is the dress code for this particular event?"

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"Hail." Hand up, bit of a wave, less Nazi salute than proper kind of greeting. Illyana knows the difference. She also demonstrates one of her hands is empty and suitably poised to cause no trouble whatsoever, in the simplest incarnation of proof for no harmful intent. Toting around the prospective corset to try on is getting a bit unwieldy so she sets it aside, no doubt unaware of what even constitutes the right size. Instead, there is safety in godawful numbers of burlesque lace ruffles. She moves around that display, going for a table with other laid out corsets and bits that involve a collar, the styling a touch less classic and more for showmanship of a sort Zatanna shows off wonderfully.

The demon queen, if nothing else, understands points, leather, and convincing accoutrements. Her hands do the walking, measuring the nap of the fabric, the light tugs testing whether boning is rigid or flexible, plastic or steel spiral. No one mind her, of course, as she pokes about. "The Maker's visit should be welcome. I will go, too. I have never met her." She still has other fashion to find, but she fishes around for a third option and holds it up critically. No. No, that illegal in several states. Back down it goes. "It does not even have a back."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Without even really thinking about it, Zatanna speaks up.

"Nruter sehtolc ot lamron."

And before the two women, Zatanna's clothes shift back to the more modest outfit she was wearing when she arrived. "What I'm wearing right now would be fitting, Heidi. No corsets required." she grins and gives Illyana a wink. "Though I totally want to see what you come up with." The young woman moves to take a seat, taking on the role of observer and critic. "...I bet you'd look amazing in something an eggshell color." she points out to the pale blonde.

"And it would be an interesting contrast." she continues as she sets her hands in her lap. "But yes, Heidi, you should come over. It'll be fun. A bunch of us girls getting together just to meet and hang out. I'm excited about showing off my house."

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"I don't exactly have a lot of outfits... I didn't think I would be dressing for particular Midgardian occasions," Heidi's original goal was battle, maybe a nice snack or two. But it was so /interesting/. "But I shall attempt to wear something nice." She looks between the two of them.

"I would be very honored to go to your dwelling. I have not been to any sort of gathering like that here on Midgard." Are there protocols she doesn't know? Maybe she should research...

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The demon queen hoists another of those corsets, one with a more golden tone. Eggshell is harder to find, and while she understands the recommendation, it still proves elusive outside of a bridal corner. Flitting between tables and racks is producing little by way fo a satisfying outcome, so she takes her sweet time about perusing anything vaguely related: buttercream, pastel pink (no), copper and bronze. The latter options are spied with a narrowed eye and then walked right over to Heidi. "Try this."

She means well enough, for all the brusque, direct approach. Illyana's gliding footsteps take her around another pile of very slinky outfits, and she pinches the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "What do I wear on the bottom?" Leather pants are not the answer to all of life's mysteries. Zatanna will be called upon for this. "Do I just do..." Well, she's /in/ pants at least. And curb stomping boots. Elegance this is not, and neither is she quite to the confidence of sophistication and sartorial sophistry that they are. If it's intact, it counts.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Reaching into her pocketbook, Zatanna pulls out a card, and presents it to Heidi. "Here, it's got directions to my house, and it will allow you pass through the wards that surround it -- once." she explains as she hands it over. She's careful when it comes to the security of Shadowcrest, and admittedly, she's a little more than nervous when it comes to this event she had planned. She's never hosted this many people in Shadowcrest.

Her phone chimes at her, and she looks at it with a frown. She sends a message back, and grins when Illyana comes over and she waggles a finger in a playful chide. "You're supposed to be looking for yourself as well! I already have my usual order set up." she says, glancing over to the counter where they are wrapping her packages.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
The card is taken and carefully tucked away, and Heidi gives Zatanna a warm smile. "Many thanks. I will be sure to attend." She isn't sure what she'll do for an outfit, but thankfully Illyana is giving her some things to look at. She holds them up, studying with a careful eye as if she had some kind of knowledge of these things.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
It turns out, Illyana has a phone too. Surprise! As a device goes, it's entirely a peculiar creation of slender proportions, more Korean or Japanese in styling than anything widely marketed. A swirl of her finger sets off a little firefly that chases after the swirling motions, and she waits a few moments for a repsonse. When it lights up, the phone makes the happiest, most ludicrous little chirping noise imaginable. And she /glares/ at it, instead of blushing or emanating a flame over her head. Nor a yellow question mark or exclamation point.

The secondary chime announces the delivery of a message. She stuffs it back in -- somewhere. A pocket. Presumably a pocket that can fit a phone. "I was," she says. Black, gold, and a very few shades in between are carried into a changing room. She glances over her shoulder, then back into the mirror. Well. There are a few ways of managing things on her own, when one is not Emma Frost, lady of psychic harlotry and virago costuming (Victorian ankles! No!) altogether.

Magic? No magic. The demon queen puts her hand over her face and then starts to manage self-torture, which is an act of shimmying and wiggling around into the tube of boning she's managed to open up and figure out how to weld to herself. Of course, sizing is totally lost on her. What fits pants doesn't help for...

"Bozhe moi." A stifled snap of something. Strings pulled? Being stuck against a wall? <<How in the hell am I supposed to...>> More mysteries to be deciphered. Maybe she cheats.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
As the noises of disgruntled Russian Limbo Queen come from the changing area, Zatanna arches a brow, concern creeping into her features. "Illyana, you okay in there? Do you need any help?" she asks. Perhaps she just realized that the blonde sorceress can't cheat like she can, and rising to her feet makes her way over. Just in case. A glance over to Heidi and she attempts to present her with a reassuring smile.

"It's not usually this bad!" she tries with a confused look as she turns towards the changing area again and worries on her lip.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi, too, has a phone. It's an old one that slides open sideways to have a little keyboard on it. You can even play snake. She can't figure out how to turn the caps lock off on it, however, so all of her texts come across as very angry. She glances at it briefly before tucking it away in a pocket. "It sounds as if you are having a battle in there," she calls loudly. "Please tell me you are uninjured!" She has an honest concern there.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Perhaps that pale Russian /can/ cheat. Perhaps the way she cheat is just so utterly /wrong/ that it would normally constitute something akin to being illegal. A snarl on the lips isn't the answer, nor is the consideration a size something or other was supposed to knock four inches off the original number to come up with an idea of where she fits. So when she sees the first effect, the girl stands there with her hands on her hips and wrinkles her nose. "It is not winning," Illyana insists.

It is so winning.

Well, she manages to extricate herself from one too many hooks, a girl already taught by the tender age of nine how to flense skin and flay the living, plucking out answers from the captives she pinned down with a dulcet smile. Certain things are not in balance, so the corset goes smacking into the ground and is stepped on -- by a bare foot, it should be said -- for good measure. So it can't get away or leap up and attack her, something deranged and telekinetically floating around because this boutique was haunted. Wrong corner of New York. That one's in Chelsea.

A certain sparkle of air might go unnoticed. It hasn't the smell of ozone or brimstone, only the heady influence of dusky... roses? Semi-double Bourbon roses in fact. Maybe a touch too intense to be quite right. Still, a hissing escape of breath indicates ribs being squashed together at a more effective rate. Illyana hits a wall. Sort of. Lightly bumps it, more likely. She stoops to pick up a hanger. "This is... illegal. Definitely illegal."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna is physically wincing outside the changing area.

Because the alternative would be to die laughing. And that death would be when her best friend flayed her alive for laughing at her.

At least Illyana is considering corners of New York that are not street corners, as Zatanna has to literally fight down the urge to come in there to help, as the peculiar smell fills the air.

"You have it under control in there?" she asks, lips pulled into a thin line of concern. The raven-haired magician glances from changing area to Heidi. And quietly, she tells the taller blonde.

"I think the corset is winning." she confesses quietly - especially when that new noise eminates from behind the curtains, and unlike a certain Wizard of Oz, there are no wicked witches here, just clothing that vexes and confuses those that are not used to them.

Finally, though, it sounds as though Illyana has finally wielded the Corset of Binding +1 Charisma, but she adds.

"Are you able to breathe?"

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The corset is probably winning. Or it was. But one thing a corset cannot win against?

A demon. Not the demon queen, mind you, but an actual demon capable of using wit and devilishly nimble fingers for a purpose. So, when in doubt, use the mirror as a convenient portal. This is probably against some kind of rules Illyana absolutely does not care about. Imps curse at her, and a succubus accepts this necessity of a quick, discreet lacing. In the end, she is left espying her own reflection and finally poking her head out through the curtain like all women confronted with sartorial uncertainties must. Of course, the Asgardian isn't waging war with an inanimate object.

This is all Loki's fault. And John Constantine as his proxy. Or patsy. Or vice versa. Nothing is hexed.

"Da." She might never admit otherwise. Big stompy boots absent, she crosses her arms over her chest. Okay, it's on, it fits, good enough. "Enough. Heidi's turn." Maybe the curtain makes a good cloak.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Come on, Illyana, we gotta see what all the fuss was about!" Zatanna teases as she breathes a sigh of relief, and the White Magician Girl returns to her seat on the bench. She's not gonna push Illyana though as she's poked her head out from behind the curtains.

Though now, Illyana is trying to turn the attention to the other blonde, and she laughs.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi looks entirely unprepared for the copper-colored corset she has in her hands right now. She looks over towards Zatanna, then Illyana. "I am uncertain this is a good idea. I've never worn anything like this." There's a long pause, then a deep breath. "Alright, I am willing to try it." Her smile brightens and she throws herself whole-heartedly to the effort. She doesn't stomp her way, but she proudly moves into another dressing room. She'll... figure it out.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
One corseted, one pre-corseted, the other post-corseted. In the field of war, 'tis only fair. No love here. Slipping away from the fitting room in those damned leather pants and boots meant to trudge imps into paste, Illyana marches past Zatanna and drops down on a questionable poof studded by a velvet finish. She has the icy-eyed creature. No pride there. No reason to not have pride, all said and done, but this is a girl who prances around occasionally gravity-defying armour.

Corsets? Also gravity defying. That knotted off bow in the back is just precious. How she did this herself is not possibly done herself.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Oh, that looks excellent on you!" Zatanna is enocourages Illyana when she comes out to join her, and gives the Russian a one-armed hug. "Do you like it though?" she asks, concern in her sapphire eyes as she pulls back, hands in her lap as she considers the arctic blonde. Then Heidi marches off bravely to face the corset of doom, and she calls out behind her, "If you need help with the ties, that's how they did it back in the medevial times!"

That's what she's doing. Zatanna's torturing them. It has to be. But instead of an iron maiden of steel and spikes, it's a silken and leather maiden of plastic and metal whale-boning that she is entrapping the two women within. A trap she has long ago figured the secrets of, and like Dorothy Dietrich before her, knows how to work her way through it.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"By killing you slowly with asphyxiation!" chimes in Illyana in a murmur a little too edged to be purely innocent.

But it's true!

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi has spent hundreds of years training to be a Valkyrie. She won't be bested by some fabric and some boning! Honestly, getting into it isn't the hard part for her. It's the laces that are the hard part. Her armor didn't usually have laces so it's an unfamiliar thing to do. "Uh..." She peeks out from the side. "How... do you do the last part?"

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"Ask Zatanna," says Illyana. She rises up from her poof, since the lacing up her back is entirely a rotten, lovely thing of pinched perfection. Just don't ask her to bend down or a lace is going to break. "I am going to find another. In gold, this time. Not just black. Not everything is black." Just almost everything, but the overbust style works for her. She swans past Heidi's enclosure. "She will tie you up and you will like it. These are her rules."

In Zee's world, beat them by binding them and looking fashionable. Take that, John!

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"I can help you with that, Heidi." Zatanna gives Illyana's hand a quick squeeze. "It's two sizes too small!" she chides the Russian, and smirks at the woman before she shakes her head at Illyana as she goes off to shop, but she smiles - she's happy to see the cool blonde having something close to fun. "I'm buying." she finally explains to Heidi. "Since you're coming to my party, it's only fair!" And she steps in to help Heidi with the laces, careful not to crush ribs.

Though Illyana's comment about tieing people up makes the brunette's cheeks turn red. "I don't do that!" she yells after Illyana before turning to the Asgardian. "Are you a shieldmaiden then, or just in training?"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi gets the joke, though, chuckling as she lets Zatanna work on the laces. "Oh, you don't have to, although I do appreciate the generous offer." Being treated to nice things is a little bit of a surprise. Food, she understands. Other things, like garments? That's a /present/. She at least doesn't have a problem with the corset, admiring it in the mirror as it's laced. "It is a very fashionable garment..."

"Ah, my mother was a shieldmaiden. I'm training to be a Valkyrie... though most of my time is spent training the pegasi for the Valkyrie themselves. There is none that can compare to my skill on a winged horse."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Suck it in." Zatanna instructs as she gives one last hard tug and ties her off. "There you go!" she says as she steps back and grins. "Looks great on you, Heidi." comes the compliment. "You and Illyana are totally more of the overbust types. I can usually work with those pretty well, but I need the undewire support." she admits with a frown and shrug as she listens.

"I've always wanted to fly on a pegasi." she laughs. "My dad used to tell me stories of other lands when I was young. Avalon and Asgard and... I just was always so enamoured." she admits. "But I've never had a chance to travel outside of this realm. It's one of the few things my magic cannot do." At least as far as she knows. "Do they smell like regular horses?" she asks curiously, giving Heidi time to admire the look so she can loosen it for her to slip out of in private when she's ready.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"People make them out like they're supposed to be terribly different, but they aren't," Heidi says, turning side to side to admire the corset. "I think this will do. I think I like it." She's certainly warmed to the idea. She returns to the conversation of horses. "Flying on one is incredible. I never get tired of it, even after hundreds of years. But you should travel... I came here and it has been one of my best experiences yet. The people are incredible, the food is amazing, the landscape beautiful..." Well, maybe not /all/ of the landscape.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Travel is harder for me sometimes, but I'll have to find a reason to visit Asgard someday." After all, one doesn't just teleport into Asgard. Unless they're invading. And Zatanna has no plans to invade Asgard. Now that the decision is made, she loosens the ties, and steps out to give Heidi privacy. "Let's get these taken care of, and I should get my packages home. It was really great to meet you Heidi, and I look forward to seeing you again, soon!"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi wriggles out of the corset on her own once she gets the chance, and redresses. Zatanna is given a bright smile. "Ah, thank you," she says, as she emerges. "Perhaps I can let you visit the stables sometime, if you're so inclined. No one but Valkyries rides the pegasi, but you can at least see them."

Nothing wrong with a little show and tell, right? "I have enjoyed meeting you and I look forward to your event."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Really? I'd love to see the stables sometime! Do they like apples or carrots or sugar cubes?" Zatanna's sapphire eyes light up with delight. Despite all the prim and class, she is a little girl at heart that was just told one of her flights of fancy could come true. Not literally, but still, just to see the winged beasts up close! She can't help it, she gives the tall Asgardian a hug, arms around her waist for a quick squeeze before she steps back. "That'll be amazing. Thank you so much!"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi nods. "You certainly can. I bring Eira to Midgard to train her, sometimes... let her get used to things here, people, so she's not frightened. If I cannot get you to Asgard, perhaps you could meet her here." The hug doesn't seem to bother her, unlike some, physical affection is something she takes just fine. The squeeze is returned. "I will have to bring her soon."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
That's taken care of, and Zatanna beams warmly. For a moment, all that showmanship and extrovert side of her is down, and the delighted girl that just... wanted to have something like this is exposed. At the realization of it all, she reaches up and brushes her thumb against her eyes. Must be dusty in here. "Let's get this taken care of!" And with that, she's off like a whirlwind to pay and get everyone packaged up and on their way.