Galaxy Angel Episode 13: Magical President Animal Crackers [1/2]
WHO: Zatanna Zatara, Vanilla H, Milfeulle Sakuraba
WHAT: Zatanna's magic act headlines at an orbital coffeehouse.
WHEN: Saturday Night
WHERE: Transbaal Station, Restaurant Deck
WATCH FOR: Zatanna working the crowd!
Nighttime, on Transbaal Station. Being that the orbit of the giant space station is geosynchronous, right over the Imperial City (with a handy mass elevator stretching down to the surface), the day/night cycle largely corresponds to that of the planet beneath. And thus! Lights turn on, nightclubs, restaurants, bars and other favorite night spots of the inhabitants and the numerous visitors from across the galaxy all come to life, mirroring the spreading bright spots of Transbaal proper under their feet.
Such it is at Transbaal Station's latest night-time coffeehouse, J2's! Patterned after a popular pastry restaurant in the Imperial City, J2's - after a rocky start - has become a popular hangout for station denizens of all sorts. The proprietor, Master J2, is in fact a robot, one of only two individuals in the galaxy who knows how to make the long lost Ultimate Pastry Recipe, the 'Grande Arche', previously thought to have been lost for 200 years. The other person who supposedly knows the recipe is his rumored apprentice, a pink-haired girl who sometimes wears a military uniform that occasionally comes in to help him wait tables on weekends.
At the moment, the two stand behind the bar, gauging the crowd's reaction to their latest addition to the live entertainment: Zatanna, Mistress of Magic! "You say you saw this girl perform in the Hub?" asks J2 in his electronic voice, peering at Milfeulle through skeptical ocular sensors.
"Oh, sure!" Milfeulle says with a smile and an expansive wave. "Well, I mean, I met one of her assistants. He was really sweet! He was very cute and loved vegetables and rice crackers. Though eventually he went home with my friend Reichan. But I got over it!"
J2 peers from Milfeulle to the stage and back again, rubbing his titanium chin. "Well, your love life aside, let's just hope she can keep this crowd. It's just my luck we're trying out a new act on the day that the toughest audience in the world shows up in my restaurant!"
And sitting there in the crowd, in the very center of the dining area, facing the stage, sits NONE OTHER than five robed, hooded figures, completely unmoving. Master J2 points a single metallic digit. "The Stoic Space Monks of Serenity IX!" J2 looks to the counter and shakes his head, massaging his temples. "The most unmovable audience ever known to live entertainment history. They travel from planet to planet, seeking diversion, but they've seen so many acts and so many shows over their thousands of years of history that virtually nothing excites them anymore. They'll bring down the whole room! My restaurant's reputation will be forever tainted. I'm finished."
Milfeulle giggles, patting him on the cranium. *tung* *tung* "Oh, you're always being so negative! I bet she'll bring the house down. You'll see!"
J2 merely shakes his head from side to side in response. Things look grim!
Ah, there's nothing like the opening night. It's a high, the pre-performance jitters, not knowing what to expect - it's an adrenaline high that Zatanna wouldn't pass up for all the money in the world. But according to her manager, the crowd was a tough one. particularly the front row. It could be one of her hardest crowds to win over yet.
In what served as her dressing room, Zatanna sat on her chair, mentally preparing herself. "Okay Zee. You can do this; just like any other performance. A performance that could make or break you, just like the others. It's a war, a fight to stay on top, especially when there are other talented magicians out there." Like Jennifer Kale. -.- Hmph. Professional respect of course, but she couldn't help but be a big jealous.
"I need a big entrance. Something that will WOW them, really grab their attention..." She glances at her reflection in the mirror, frowning, ".. this would be a lot easier if I had Mr. Beans.." She missed her bunny. :/ But she's also been unable to track down that girl. Maybe she'll show up at the performance though! "About time for me to go on. I'll just have to grab 'em with a big entrance first." She gets to her feet, starting for the door, "And if he doesn't get my name right, I'm turning him into a can opener."
A quick consultation between the members of the management, in fact, settled the question of who would perform the introductions. Who wants to see a rather non-descript looking robot? Of course, those who are aware of such things could not help but notice the 1600 articulated manipulator grip functions, the state of the art locomotor system, the Model Z1A artificial intelligence neural net utilizing a quantum-based matrix capable of using all 32 potential states of the electron, rather than merely two, thus literally performing calculations in alternate universes.
However, it was felt that it might win the audience over a bit more if it was a cute girl instead.
So there she is in her waitress outfit, Milfeulle Sakuraba, skating to the stage in roller-skates! "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, the management is UWAAA!" She waves her arms up and down, backpedaling on her skates. "Oh no, I can't stop! Ha ha, wheee!" Thoughtfully Master J2 shoots out an extensor arm, which she grabs hold of, letting her do a complete 360 - lifting a foot just before it falls right off the stage - and return to a gentle stop in front of the microphone. "Hee hee, sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen. That almost turned out really bad! But you know what they say in show business. 'Break a leg!'" Milfeulle points to the drummer. He blinks. She points again, nodding her head up and down quickly. Finally he ohs, and drums out a quick riff. Ba-dum-CH!
Dead silence from the crowd. J2 retracts his arm so he can cover his face.
"Ha ha, but seriously folks. Do we have any aliens in the house tonight? Let's hear it from the aliens!" There's a smattering of applause and some cheers. "So like, the other day I saw an alien hanging around my computer! And I asked him, why are you hanging around my computer Mr. Alien? And he said, it's because I'm thirsty! But what's my computer got to do with that? And he said, someone said this was where I could find the Space Bar!" Milfeulle smiles widely and swings her arms back and forth, doing a little dance. "Ha ha ha, the space bar!" Someone coughs. She peers sideways to the drummer, who as it turns out is reading the want ads. Milfeulle turns back to the audience and smiles weakly. "So without futher ado! The Mistress of Magic, Zat... Zato... Zaturn... uh..." Her brow furrows. "Zantan... uh, the Amazing Double-Z! Yay!" She claps her hands and then skates off the stage. The crowd rustles somewhat indifferently.
She roller-skates back to the bar, finding J2 cowering in his Cowering Corner. "Ha ha ha, that was great! Did you see me Master? I told jokes and totally warmed up the crowd! That was so much fun!"
J2 mumbles. "I tried hanging myself, but the rope broke. I thought it was a miracle! Then I remembered I'm a robot and weigh 3 tons."
Milfeulle bursts out laughing. "Wah ha ha ha, that's funny! You can be on stage next time, Master."
(OOC) Zatanna Zatara says, "..space bar..."
(OOC) Zatanna Zatara dies. x.x Oh god.
(OOC) Milfeulle Sakuraba says, "I'm here all week!"
Za-Ta-Nna. You can say it. Come on. From behind the curtain, Zatanna taps her foot, arms folded, irritation growing as Milfie stumbles over her name. Repeatedly. "Zaturn? Oh come on, ther eisn't even a u in my name! ZA-TAN-NA!" She draws her wand, preparing to turn the speaker into a rusty bucket.
Being a girl will NOt save her!
.... avoiding saying the name rather neatly however, does. "Double Z huh? Eeh." She'll let this one live. FOR NOW. "Right then. Big entrance, big entrance.." She raises her wand again, "Gib ecnartne!"
On the stage, there's a sudden explosion of bright blue smoke and a shower of golden sparks. When it clears, Zatanna is standing on the center of the stage, her hat in her hand. "Hel-Lo Transbaal! Lovely place you have here, simply charming! And oh, thanks EVER so to the dear girl who introduced me. Couldn't have done better myself." Yes she could. :D But you have to admit, the introduction and the lame jokes were pretty funny.
Clearly, Master J2 had never been to Planet Holiness!
Vanilla hadn't even intended to leave the station this evening. She had a night of quiet meditation planned. It wasn't the most exciting plan ever, but no one ever accused Vanilla of being the most exciting person ever. However, things don't always go as planned.
"Mama! Hey, mama! MAAAAAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" These words had been spoken to her a little over an hour ago but the blue-haired artificial girl she'd accidently adopted as her daughter, a girl as hyperactive as her 'mother' was not, the adorable Nano-Nano Pudding. "Mama! You said we would go out tonight! I wanna see the station! There's still lots and lots of places we haven't gone!" And this explains why the green-haired girl is out on the town instead of doing the righteous prayer thing this evening.
Vanilla and her little tag-along arrive just in time to see the mighty mistress of magic make her dramatic entrance. Vanilla seems entirely unimpressed, or maybe she just doesn't care. But Nano, however, reacts differently. "Ooooh! Nifty-keen!" She doesn't make much of an effort to keep her voice down. "Oooh, mama, it's Auntie Milfie. Hiiiiiiii~iiii, Auntie Milfie!" Vanilla seems more interested in the dreaded Monks, whom she offers a reverent nod torwards them.
Milfeulle Sakuraba has no idea how close she came to being a rusty bucket. Then again, she's the type of person who'd probably find 1001 fun things about being a rusty bucket. Say, perhaps, she lives on a small front stoop, in a port city, in the sunshine, fishing boats coming in and out, the sun sparkling off the water...
She jerks out of her reverie, blinking her eyes. Where had those thoughts come from? She's just in time to notice Zatanna's blazing entrance, with showers of golden sparks, blue smoke, explosions, everything that makes a great intro! "Yay!" she calls out, clapping and waving her hands in the air. "Hurray!" She cups her hands to her mouth. "You're welcome!"
The crowd's attitude is brought up somewhat by the intro and the enthusiasm behind the counter, but, almost involuntarily, their eyes flick to the Stoic Space Monks of Serenity IX, who don't even move a muscle - not even to acknowledge Vanilla's reverent greeting - and it brings things down just a little. The clapping subdues.
J2 pokes his head above the bar counter just long enough to witness all that in action. "I knew it," he moans, dropping down again. "Of all the coffeeshops in all the galaxy, why did they have to come into mine? I'm going to have to sell to those three crooked land developers who tried to shake me down last week..."
Milfeulle's ears perk up. Toing! Toing toing toing! "Eh? What was that, Master? Who tried to do what?"
"Eh, it's not important," J2 mumbles, waving a ceramic polymer hand. "I showed 'em the door."
Milfeulle frowns at this sudden revelation. Since when does Master J2 not tell her things? But then she's distracted by the sudden arrival of Vanilla and Nano-Nano Pudding, at whom she throws up an arm. "Vanilla-san! Nano-chan! Welcome to J2's!" She skates out from behind the bar with two menus, swirling to a stop in front of Team Holiness. "Can I get you two a table? There's a new magic act tonight!"
Look at that, more people! Well, the more the merrier, but it was those monks that she really had to win over. "For the record, it's Zatanna," she tells Milfie with a grin. Then she addresses the crowd, "It's great to be here, and more importantly, I hope that you'll enjoy the show tonight. I'll be regaling you with tricks and magic of the likes you've never seen -" a wave of her hand over her hat, "Sevod reappa!" She holds her hat up, and a group of doves flutter out, "Is it true magic? Or simply, illusion?" quickly she whispers, "sedov emoceb esor slatep."
Having flown over the crowd, the doves abruptly -burst- into white rose petals, fluttering down over the crowd. "That will be up to you to decide. To believe, or simply.." (esor slatep emoceb selbbub) "Enjoy." The petals glow briefly, and turn into technicolor bubbles.
"Now then, to begin.. any good magician worth their salt needs an assistant, right?" She raises a hand, snapping her fingers. "Syob?"
POOF, poof, poof!
Behind Zatanna, another cloud of smoke - three in fact - poms onto the stage, and when THAT smoke clears, there are three, muscular, handsome men appear behind her. Yummy?
She's going to need a little help figuring out those monks.
There's absolutely no reason that the crowd should not have been won over by the magic act. The air is full of light, of magic, of white fluttering wings like those of angels, of a rain of rose petals and bubbles, showing the audience a world they can only barely glimpse in their dreams. Plus, there's beefcake. Applause erupts from the crowd, but it's faltering, hesitant; in the center table, just in front of the stage, there almost seems to be a vortex that sucks in the crowd's energy. Black clad statues, motionless and unreachable.
And at that moment, three men in white business suits walk in the front entrance. One is thin and gaunt, the other tall and handsome, the third short and squat. "Well, well, well," says the gaunt one as he walks up to the counter. "If it isn't J2, cowering behind the bar."
"Looks like someone's business is in trouble," says the prettyboy.
"Can I get some orange juice?" says the third one. "I'm really thirsty..."
J2 rears up from behind the bar, his ocular sensors narrowing. "Hey! I told you bums to stay out of my place. Are you hard of hearing or just stupid?"
The thin and gaunt one holds up his hands. "Hey, hey! We're sorry about the other day. We were totally out of line. In fact, we're here tonight just to see your new magic act."
The good-looking one lowers his sunglasses to eye Zatanna appreciatively. "And we're very impressed," he says. "Looks like we had nothing to worry about, did we? But... the crowd's so quiet!"
J2 makes a series of computation noises, electronic eyes flashing in irritation. "The crowd's just warming up," he says. "Why don't you three take a seat and the waitress will be with you in a moment?"
With smooth smiles and suave nods, the three move to a table near the back, and sit down. "Everything is going perfectly," says Patrick, the gaunt and thin one. "This crowd is dead! J2's gonna sell for sure."
Jonathan leans back in his chair and laces his fingers behind his head. "We'll be able to open our off-track betting parlor! And start rakin' in the bucks."
Gasteau looks around worriedly. "Guys? We have a problem." The other two leans forward to stare at him. "They haven't brought me my juice yet. I really want some juice!"
The two others roll their eyes. After a moment, Patrick swats him in the head. "Moron!"
Meanwhile J2 hangs his head despondently, the deed to J2's clutched in his manipulator grips. Then he looks up, watching Milfeulle divide her attention between Vanilla and Nano, and Zatanna on stage, her face full of wonder and excitement. "It's just a restaurant," he murmurs to himself. "It's too much aggravation. But for some reason I can't bear to part with it... How did I get mixed up with that human girl? How did not letting her down become so important to me?"
At least one member of the crowd seemed to find the magic show entertaining, the little cat-like Nano-Nano. When the air fills with birds, her feline instincts are kick-started! She'd barely been seated with Vanilla before she leaps on top of the table, her tail twitching, before finally leaping up and trying to grab one of the birds in mid-air, only to have it vanish before she can get her hands around it. "Awwww! It's a cheater! Nano-Nano should have had it for sure, nano-nanoda!" With a mid-air flip, the girl lands on her feet atop the table before sliding back into her chair.
Vanilla, seeming to find nothing unusual with this behavior, does not offer her 'daughter' any discouragement. Instead, she eyes Milfeulle before slipping from her chair to stand near the pink-haired girl. She gives the robotic cafe owner a glance before speaking to Milfeulle. "It is not an easy position your friend is in. This may be the end. 'They' are even more difficult to amuse then I."
Hrm. What were these guys, dead? They weren't moving, not even to praise her! And they should be. And she wasn't sure she liked the feeling of crashing and burning. She hasn't crashed and burned since... ... ...
OHGOD. She's never crashed and burned!
Her gaze lifts as she glances towards the slick looking trio, frowning briefly, glancing towards the distraught robot with the paper in his hands. Just what was going on here? "For my next trick, I could use a little help from the audience," she waves a hand to her male assistants behind her, who file on and off the stage, bringing on a new set of props. A footlocker, from the looks of it. "Can I have a volunteer?"
All of a sudden, the laughter and applause that lay dormant in the hesitant and uncertain audience begins to ripple, just a bit, to the surface. And why? Take a guess! "Aw, she's so cute!" says a nearby couple. "So full of energy! I guess this magic act is pretty neat. Look at all the colors!"
"Oh honey!" says Mrs. Newlywed. "We need to have a little girl like her!"
Mr. Newlywed, who'd been eyeing Zatanna's legs, spits out his cocktail.
Gasteau claps his hands. "That little blue-haired girl is great! She should be in show business."
There's a moment's pause. Then Patrick smacks him upside the head a second time. "Moron!" he repeats.
A few of the crowd witnessing the exchange let out little bursts of laughter, whether or not the Stoic Space Monks react or not. The truth is, of course, that they don't. In fact it's that very subject that Vanilla addresses when she sidles up to Milfeulle. "Ehhh?" Milfeulle says, looking at Vanilla curiously. "My friend?" She turns back to look at J2, who hurriedly turns his face away, looking up to the sky and warbling electronically. Milfeulle blinks, looking over at the three white-suited real-estate investors, who have smug smiles on their faces. And then she turns to the Stoic Space Monks.
Above her head, a figurative representation of Hasbro's Mousetrap whirs and jingles and finally goes *SPROING*! Milfeulle's eyes go wide. "J2's going to sell the restaurant if someone doesn't-*" Suddenly she hears Zatanna and turns to the stage, holding up a hand excitedly. "Me! Me, me, me! I wanna volunteer! I love magic tricks!"
Worry not, Mr. Newlywed! A girl like Nano-Nano is impossible to give birth to! She has metal joints, after all. And metal everything else. But if anyone could be said to be enjoying the show so far, it'd be the little blue-haired girl. The dreaded space monks seem to have no affect on her. She's got too much energy for even them to siphon away. "Yeaaaaaaaah! Go, Auntie Milfie! You'll be the best assistant ever!" She hops back on the table to make sure she can see! Fortunately, despite being mechanical in nature, she's not so heavy as to destroy it.
Meanwhile, Vanilla seems lost deep in thought. She never thought she would see those particular monks in person! They are like a myth on the world she is from. The little shop was cursed to have them within it. Even Vanilla thought the magic was sort of neat, but them...This may require her personal attention...But for now, she makes her way back torwards her hyperactive tag-along. Someone has to keep the girl under control, after all.
That was a strange little.. kittylike girl there, but she was undeniably adorable. Unfortunately it isn't /her/ that Zatanna needs to win over. o O ( What will it take? Transfiguration? ) Turning the entire audience into animals? No.. something big, something big. There was one other possibility.. but it may take getting them on stage themselves. Hrm.
"All right, we have our volunteer! Just step on up here little lady," two of the beefcake assistants step forward to extend a hand and help Milfie on the stage. "Another volunteer? How about someone in the front row?" She glances pointedly at the monks. Who probably won't even so much as bat an eye, and if that's the case there certainly was a chance for someone else to jump in!
The legendary Stoic Space Monks of Serenity IX are completely unmoved. In fact they don't move a muscle. Not scratch their noses. Not to go to the bathroom. Not to shift position. In fact they are nothing short of a miracle of self-discipline! The only motion on them at all is the occasional draft of air shifting their garments, just a little. "It's those monks' fault," grunts J2, ocular sensors flashing back and forth, lifting a pneumatic manipulator grip to clench his robotic fist. "How can someone so holy be responsible for letting down an innocent young girl? I won't have it! I've got to do something." He looks back and forth, trying to formulate a plan.
Cut to Patrick, Jonathan and Gasteau, looking pleased with themselves! Except for Gasteau, who's sucking down a large orange juice. But he looks really pleased with that.
Cut to Mr. and Mrs. Newlywed, having a lover's spat! "My mother told me I should have married that six-headed alien monster down the street!" says Mrs. Newlywed. "Sure, he lives on human brains and his six heads are always arguing about who gets to wear the hat, but there's always compromise in a marriage!"
"Oh yeah?" retorts Mr. Newlywed. "Well maybe you should have! If he hasn't eaten your mother yet, it shows he's got more standards than I did when I married YOU!"
Cut to five bald men in flowing white clothes, elaborate tattoos on their heads, sipping water and eating a heaping helping of J2's Bottomless Salad Bowl. "What's with those stiffs in the front row?" one says. "This act is great! They haven't so much as batted an eye."
Another bald guy shrugs. "Eh, who knows. Now shut up, Lung! I bet this is gonna be good..."
"Eh, I dunno 'bout that," says another, picking his ear with a toothpick. "They need more martial arts!"
Cut to Milfeulle getting up on stage with Zatanna, smiling happily. "Wai! I'm going to be in a magic act!" She looks up at the hunks of beefcake who assisted her on-stage. "Thanks guys! Wow, it's too bad my friend Ranpha-san isn't here. She loves men with lots of muscles!" She nods her head up and down. "Probably because she likes to redecorate a lot and she needs help moving her things." She turns to the audience and waves her hands, doing a spin on her roller skates. "Yay! I'm volunteering! Everyone try the cheesecake, it's just delicious! And I'm not just saying so because I made it, I also want your money!" She smiles brightly.
As predicted, the black-robed figures motionlessly decline to volunteer. Their loss!
While those monks may not be hopping to volunteer, that doesn't mean that Zatanna will be lacking for willing victims! Suddenly, her and Milfeulle find themselves with a third person on the stage. Nano-Nano had leapt all the way from her table in the back to the middle of the stage in one gigantic leap. "WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Nano-Nano is going to be a volunteer, too! Do magic on Nano-Nano! It'll be fun, nanoda!" The little cat-thing seems eager, but 'mama' is content to just sit back and wait to see what horrors await Milfie and Nano. She settles down near the dreaded monks so as to have a good view both of the action, and of the most revered, unamused guests.
Sigh. Figures that those monks won't response. It's starting to get annoying. "What's with those guys?" IF they don't quit it, she's going to turn them into a lemur. "All right there hon, come on up," One of her beefcake men starts to reach a hand out to help Nano up, but - well she doesn't need their help at -all-!
"Okay ladies, into the footlocker - and try not to push and shove, please." It's at least roomy enough for two to just /barely/ fit. "I want to assure you that though this trick seems dangerous, it's perfectly safe. After all, it's only magic, right folks?" Zatanna grins, cast a quick wink at the crowd. Maybe a little danger will be enough to get those monks attention!" Once the girls have climbed inside, the men shut and lock the casing - where on closer inspection the footlocker /does/ have holes so they won't suffocate, of course. "This is the first time I've attempted such a trick," Lie. She knocks lightly on the footlocker, "By the way girls, what's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"
Master J2 draws himself up to full height, settles on his hydraulic lifts and trundles over to the table where the five Stoic Space Monks of Serenity IX are sitting, completely motionless. "For Milfie," he thinks to himself, clenching his prostheses. With a *stomp* *stomp* *stomp*, he propels himself to their table, moving up beside the one closest to the counter. Summons his power, his grace, his reserve, his very PRIDE as a restaurant manager!
And leans forward obsequiously, digits clenched beneath his cranium unit. "Gentlemen!" he blurts. "How is everything this evening? You know it is an honor to have you here tonight. However, I'm afraid the station has very strict anti-loitering rules. I'm terribly sorry to ask. But I must ask you to order something, simply for the sake of form, you understand. In fact, it'll be on the house! Oh yes! Completely gratis. Anything you like."
Complete, utter silence. Not a word. Not even a flicker of acknowledgement. J2's ocular casings nictate with a *click*. "Anything, anything at all," he says after a moment.
Just across the room, the five bald men in white are frowning at the scene taking place. "Somethin' really weird is going on," says yet another one in a high-pitched voice. Actually it's a girl's voice. So it's four men and a girl, fine, sue me! "Those five weirdos in black are makin' trouble for the owner!"
The martial-arts lover waves a hand. "Hey, not our problem. Now be quiet and let's watch some magic happen!"
Meanwhile, on stage, Milfeulle turns to Nano-Nano as the girl bounds up on stage. "Isn't this exciting! We're going to be magicked! I wonder if she'll turn me into a bride..." Stars appear in her eyes as she clutches her cheeks and swings back and forth. "Or!" Her eyes go wide, focus returning. "Into a seven layer cake with sugar frosting! That'd be good too!"
Milfeulle agreeably gets inside the footlocker. "Swirl!" she calls out to Zatanna's question excitedly. "Or Neapolitan! Anything where I get more than one flavor! It's like two ice creams for the price of one!"
Through it all, the five Space Monks say nothing, just sit there. Not J2's attentions nor the wonders taking place on stage do a thing to move them. It's almost as if they're cardboard cutouts covered in black robes instead of people!
Vanilla only knows of the monks through myth and legend, so for all she knows they COULD just be cardboard cutouts in black robes! Nano-Nano, however doesn't care. "Nano-Nano is going to be magical, too! Nano-Nano isn't sure she remember what magic is, but it should be fun, because auntie Milfie thinks it'll be fun!" It's fortunate that she's so small, it makes it easier for her to fit inside the box with Milfeulle. "Ice cream? Are you going to turn me into ice cream! Nano-Nano likes vanilla! Vanilla is like mama so Nano-Nano likes it because she likes mama, nanoda!" And then she goes silent to await the amazing power of magic.
Meanwhile, Vanilla is standing as quiet as the monks themselves, eyes locked on the box her friend and family were sealed within. She isn't worried. There's nothing this woman could do that's worse then anything they've done to themselves. But she's actually interested in the trick! Even if her face displays a lack of emotion that would make Mr. Spock jealous.
Nonsense! Jealousy is illogical! -- okay well maybe a little jealous. Zatanna chuckles at Nano's question, (Awww, she likes vanilla because she likes her mom. That's so cute. XD) "Not quite. That's a little big messy for what I've got in mind." She glances over her shoulder to the monks (and Vanilla by proxy). o O ( They're starting to piss me off. If THIS doesn't wow them.. ) She steps away from the footlocker, and her assistants turn it once again, tapping on the footlocker to show that there were no false panels or anything. "And now I say the 'magic words..'" She lifts her wand, waving it once, "Abra cadabra -(paz meht ot an eci maerc eppohs)!" She waves her hands downwards, throwing a pellet at the ground at the same time.
*POM!!* Scarlet smoke filters up to conceal the footlocker, and the lights flicker! OOH the power! The magic! Be AWED and AMAZED!
When the smoke clears, Zatanna taps on the footlocker with her wand lightly.. and it falls to pieces. But Nano Nano Pudding and Milfeulle are no longer in it! *GASP* Magic!
TO BE CONTINUED!
WHAT: Zatanna's magic act headlines at an orbital coffeehouse.
WHEN: Saturday Night
WHERE: Transbaal Station, Restaurant Deck
WATCH FOR: Zatanna working the crowd!
Nighttime, on Transbaal Station. Being that the orbit of the giant space station is geosynchronous, right over the Imperial City (with a handy mass elevator stretching down to the surface), the day/night cycle largely corresponds to that of the planet beneath. And thus! Lights turn on, nightclubs, restaurants, bars and other favorite night spots of the inhabitants and the numerous visitors from across the galaxy all come to life, mirroring the spreading bright spots of Transbaal proper under their feet.
Such it is at Transbaal Station's latest night-time coffeehouse, J2's! Patterned after a popular pastry restaurant in the Imperial City, J2's - after a rocky start - has become a popular hangout for station denizens of all sorts. The proprietor, Master J2, is in fact a robot, one of only two individuals in the galaxy who knows how to make the long lost Ultimate Pastry Recipe, the 'Grande Arche', previously thought to have been lost for 200 years. The other person who supposedly knows the recipe is his rumored apprentice, a pink-haired girl who sometimes wears a military uniform that occasionally comes in to help him wait tables on weekends.
At the moment, the two stand behind the bar, gauging the crowd's reaction to their latest addition to the live entertainment: Zatanna, Mistress of Magic! "You say you saw this girl perform in the Hub?" asks J2 in his electronic voice, peering at Milfeulle through skeptical ocular sensors.
"Oh, sure!" Milfeulle says with a smile and an expansive wave. "Well, I mean, I met one of her assistants. He was really sweet! He was very cute and loved vegetables and rice crackers. Though eventually he went home with my friend Reichan. But I got over it!"
J2 peers from Milfeulle to the stage and back again, rubbing his titanium chin. "Well, your love life aside, let's just hope she can keep this crowd. It's just my luck we're trying out a new act on the day that the toughest audience in the world shows up in my restaurant!"
And sitting there in the crowd, in the very center of the dining area, facing the stage, sits NONE OTHER than five robed, hooded figures, completely unmoving. Master J2 points a single metallic digit. "The Stoic Space Monks of Serenity IX!" J2 looks to the counter and shakes his head, massaging his temples. "The most unmovable audience ever known to live entertainment history. They travel from planet to planet, seeking diversion, but they've seen so many acts and so many shows over their thousands of years of history that virtually nothing excites them anymore. They'll bring down the whole room! My restaurant's reputation will be forever tainted. I'm finished."
Milfeulle giggles, patting him on the cranium. *tung* *tung* "Oh, you're always being so negative! I bet she'll bring the house down. You'll see!"
J2 merely shakes his head from side to side in response. Things look grim!
Ah, there's nothing like the opening night. It's a high, the pre-performance jitters, not knowing what to expect - it's an adrenaline high that Zatanna wouldn't pass up for all the money in the world. But according to her manager, the crowd was a tough one. particularly the front row. It could be one of her hardest crowds to win over yet.
In what served as her dressing room, Zatanna sat on her chair, mentally preparing herself. "Okay Zee. You can do this; just like any other performance. A performance that could make or break you, just like the others. It's a war, a fight to stay on top, especially when there are other talented magicians out there." Like Jennifer Kale. -.- Hmph. Professional respect of course, but she couldn't help but be a big jealous.
"I need a big entrance. Something that will WOW them, really grab their attention..." She glances at her reflection in the mirror, frowning, ".. this would be a lot easier if I had Mr. Beans.." She missed her bunny. :/ But she's also been unable to track down that girl. Maybe she'll show up at the performance though! "About time for me to go on. I'll just have to grab 'em with a big entrance first." She gets to her feet, starting for the door, "And if he doesn't get my name right, I'm turning him into a can opener."
A quick consultation between the members of the management, in fact, settled the question of who would perform the introductions. Who wants to see a rather non-descript looking robot? Of course, those who are aware of such things could not help but notice the 1600 articulated manipulator grip functions, the state of the art locomotor system, the Model Z1A artificial intelligence neural net utilizing a quantum-based matrix capable of using all 32 potential states of the electron, rather than merely two, thus literally performing calculations in alternate universes.
However, it was felt that it might win the audience over a bit more if it was a cute girl instead.
So there she is in her waitress outfit, Milfeulle Sakuraba, skating to the stage in roller-skates! "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, the management is UWAAA!" She waves her arms up and down, backpedaling on her skates. "Oh no, I can't stop! Ha ha, wheee!" Thoughtfully Master J2 shoots out an extensor arm, which she grabs hold of, letting her do a complete 360 - lifting a foot just before it falls right off the stage - and return to a gentle stop in front of the microphone. "Hee hee, sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen. That almost turned out really bad! But you know what they say in show business. 'Break a leg!'" Milfeulle points to the drummer. He blinks. She points again, nodding her head up and down quickly. Finally he ohs, and drums out a quick riff. Ba-dum-CH!
Dead silence from the crowd. J2 retracts his arm so he can cover his face.
"Ha ha, but seriously folks. Do we have any aliens in the house tonight? Let's hear it from the aliens!" There's a smattering of applause and some cheers. "So like, the other day I saw an alien hanging around my computer! And I asked him, why are you hanging around my computer Mr. Alien? And he said, it's because I'm thirsty! But what's my computer got to do with that? And he said, someone said this was where I could find the Space Bar!" Milfeulle smiles widely and swings her arms back and forth, doing a little dance. "Ha ha ha, the space bar!" Someone coughs. She peers sideways to the drummer, who as it turns out is reading the want ads. Milfeulle turns back to the audience and smiles weakly. "So without futher ado! The Mistress of Magic, Zat... Zato... Zaturn... uh..." Her brow furrows. "Zantan... uh, the Amazing Double-Z! Yay!" She claps her hands and then skates off the stage. The crowd rustles somewhat indifferently.
She roller-skates back to the bar, finding J2 cowering in his Cowering Corner. "Ha ha ha, that was great! Did you see me Master? I told jokes and totally warmed up the crowd! That was so much fun!"
J2 mumbles. "I tried hanging myself, but the rope broke. I thought it was a miracle! Then I remembered I'm a robot and weigh 3 tons."
Milfeulle bursts out laughing. "Wah ha ha ha, that's funny! You can be on stage next time, Master."
(OOC) Zatanna Zatara says, "..space bar..."
(OOC) Zatanna Zatara dies. x.x Oh god.
(OOC) Milfeulle Sakuraba says, "I'm here all week!"
Za-Ta-Nna. You can say it. Come on. From behind the curtain, Zatanna taps her foot, arms folded, irritation growing as Milfie stumbles over her name. Repeatedly. "Zaturn? Oh come on, ther eisn't even a u in my name! ZA-TAN-NA!" She draws her wand, preparing to turn the speaker into a rusty bucket.
Being a girl will NOt save her!
.... avoiding saying the name rather neatly however, does. "Double Z huh? Eeh." She'll let this one live. FOR NOW. "Right then. Big entrance, big entrance.." She raises her wand again, "Gib ecnartne!"
On the stage, there's a sudden explosion of bright blue smoke and a shower of golden sparks. When it clears, Zatanna is standing on the center of the stage, her hat in her hand. "Hel-Lo Transbaal! Lovely place you have here, simply charming! And oh, thanks EVER so to the dear girl who introduced me. Couldn't have done better myself." Yes she could. :D But you have to admit, the introduction and the lame jokes were pretty funny.
Clearly, Master J2 had never been to Planet Holiness!
Vanilla hadn't even intended to leave the station this evening. She had a night of quiet meditation planned. It wasn't the most exciting plan ever, but no one ever accused Vanilla of being the most exciting person ever. However, things don't always go as planned.
"Mama! Hey, mama! MAAAAAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" These words had been spoken to her a little over an hour ago but the blue-haired artificial girl she'd accidently adopted as her daughter, a girl as hyperactive as her 'mother' was not, the adorable Nano-Nano Pudding. "Mama! You said we would go out tonight! I wanna see the station! There's still lots and lots of places we haven't gone!" And this explains why the green-haired girl is out on the town instead of doing the righteous prayer thing this evening.
Vanilla and her little tag-along arrive just in time to see the mighty mistress of magic make her dramatic entrance. Vanilla seems entirely unimpressed, or maybe she just doesn't care. But Nano, however, reacts differently. "Ooooh! Nifty-keen!" She doesn't make much of an effort to keep her voice down. "Oooh, mama, it's Auntie Milfie. Hiiiiiiii~iiii, Auntie Milfie!" Vanilla seems more interested in the dreaded Monks, whom she offers a reverent nod torwards them.
Milfeulle Sakuraba has no idea how close she came to being a rusty bucket. Then again, she's the type of person who'd probably find 1001 fun things about being a rusty bucket. Say, perhaps, she lives on a small front stoop, in a port city, in the sunshine, fishing boats coming in and out, the sun sparkling off the water...
She jerks out of her reverie, blinking her eyes. Where had those thoughts come from? She's just in time to notice Zatanna's blazing entrance, with showers of golden sparks, blue smoke, explosions, everything that makes a great intro! "Yay!" she calls out, clapping and waving her hands in the air. "Hurray!" She cups her hands to her mouth. "You're welcome!"
The crowd's attitude is brought up somewhat by the intro and the enthusiasm behind the counter, but, almost involuntarily, their eyes flick to the Stoic Space Monks of Serenity IX, who don't even move a muscle - not even to acknowledge Vanilla's reverent greeting - and it brings things down just a little. The clapping subdues.
J2 pokes his head above the bar counter just long enough to witness all that in action. "I knew it," he moans, dropping down again. "Of all the coffeeshops in all the galaxy, why did they have to come into mine? I'm going to have to sell to those three crooked land developers who tried to shake me down last week..."
Milfeulle's ears perk up. Toing! Toing toing toing! "Eh? What was that, Master? Who tried to do what?"
"Eh, it's not important," J2 mumbles, waving a ceramic polymer hand. "I showed 'em the door."
Milfeulle frowns at this sudden revelation. Since when does Master J2 not tell her things? But then she's distracted by the sudden arrival of Vanilla and Nano-Nano Pudding, at whom she throws up an arm. "Vanilla-san! Nano-chan! Welcome to J2's!" She skates out from behind the bar with two menus, swirling to a stop in front of Team Holiness. "Can I get you two a table? There's a new magic act tonight!"
Look at that, more people! Well, the more the merrier, but it was those monks that she really had to win over. "For the record, it's Zatanna," she tells Milfie with a grin. Then she addresses the crowd, "It's great to be here, and more importantly, I hope that you'll enjoy the show tonight. I'll be regaling you with tricks and magic of the likes you've never seen -" a wave of her hand over her hat, "Sevod reappa!" She holds her hat up, and a group of doves flutter out, "Is it true magic? Or simply, illusion?" quickly she whispers, "sedov emoceb esor slatep."
Having flown over the crowd, the doves abruptly -burst- into white rose petals, fluttering down over the crowd. "That will be up to you to decide. To believe, or simply.." (esor slatep emoceb selbbub) "Enjoy." The petals glow briefly, and turn into technicolor bubbles.
"Now then, to begin.. any good magician worth their salt needs an assistant, right?" She raises a hand, snapping her fingers. "Syob?"
POOF, poof, poof!
Behind Zatanna, another cloud of smoke - three in fact - poms onto the stage, and when THAT smoke clears, there are three, muscular, handsome men appear behind her. Yummy?
She's going to need a little help figuring out those monks.
There's absolutely no reason that the crowd should not have been won over by the magic act. The air is full of light, of magic, of white fluttering wings like those of angels, of a rain of rose petals and bubbles, showing the audience a world they can only barely glimpse in their dreams. Plus, there's beefcake. Applause erupts from the crowd, but it's faltering, hesitant; in the center table, just in front of the stage, there almost seems to be a vortex that sucks in the crowd's energy. Black clad statues, motionless and unreachable.
And at that moment, three men in white business suits walk in the front entrance. One is thin and gaunt, the other tall and handsome, the third short and squat. "Well, well, well," says the gaunt one as he walks up to the counter. "If it isn't J2, cowering behind the bar."
"Looks like someone's business is in trouble," says the prettyboy.
"Can I get some orange juice?" says the third one. "I'm really thirsty..."
J2 rears up from behind the bar, his ocular sensors narrowing. "Hey! I told you bums to stay out of my place. Are you hard of hearing or just stupid?"
The thin and gaunt one holds up his hands. "Hey, hey! We're sorry about the other day. We were totally out of line. In fact, we're here tonight just to see your new magic act."
The good-looking one lowers his sunglasses to eye Zatanna appreciatively. "And we're very impressed," he says. "Looks like we had nothing to worry about, did we? But... the crowd's so quiet!"
J2 makes a series of computation noises, electronic eyes flashing in irritation. "The crowd's just warming up," he says. "Why don't you three take a seat and the waitress will be with you in a moment?"
With smooth smiles and suave nods, the three move to a table near the back, and sit down. "Everything is going perfectly," says Patrick, the gaunt and thin one. "This crowd is dead! J2's gonna sell for sure."
Jonathan leans back in his chair and laces his fingers behind his head. "We'll be able to open our off-track betting parlor! And start rakin' in the bucks."
Gasteau looks around worriedly. "Guys? We have a problem." The other two leans forward to stare at him. "They haven't brought me my juice yet. I really want some juice!"
The two others roll their eyes. After a moment, Patrick swats him in the head. "Moron!"
Meanwhile J2 hangs his head despondently, the deed to J2's clutched in his manipulator grips. Then he looks up, watching Milfeulle divide her attention between Vanilla and Nano, and Zatanna on stage, her face full of wonder and excitement. "It's just a restaurant," he murmurs to himself. "It's too much aggravation. But for some reason I can't bear to part with it... How did I get mixed up with that human girl? How did not letting her down become so important to me?"
At least one member of the crowd seemed to find the magic show entertaining, the little cat-like Nano-Nano. When the air fills with birds, her feline instincts are kick-started! She'd barely been seated with Vanilla before she leaps on top of the table, her tail twitching, before finally leaping up and trying to grab one of the birds in mid-air, only to have it vanish before she can get her hands around it. "Awwww! It's a cheater! Nano-Nano should have had it for sure, nano-nanoda!" With a mid-air flip, the girl lands on her feet atop the table before sliding back into her chair.
Vanilla, seeming to find nothing unusual with this behavior, does not offer her 'daughter' any discouragement. Instead, she eyes Milfeulle before slipping from her chair to stand near the pink-haired girl. She gives the robotic cafe owner a glance before speaking to Milfeulle. "It is not an easy position your friend is in. This may be the end. 'They' are even more difficult to amuse then I."
Hrm. What were these guys, dead? They weren't moving, not even to praise her! And they should be. And she wasn't sure she liked the feeling of crashing and burning. She hasn't crashed and burned since... ... ...
OHGOD. She's never crashed and burned!
Her gaze lifts as she glances towards the slick looking trio, frowning briefly, glancing towards the distraught robot with the paper in his hands. Just what was going on here? "For my next trick, I could use a little help from the audience," she waves a hand to her male assistants behind her, who file on and off the stage, bringing on a new set of props. A footlocker, from the looks of it. "Can I have a volunteer?"
All of a sudden, the laughter and applause that lay dormant in the hesitant and uncertain audience begins to ripple, just a bit, to the surface. And why? Take a guess! "Aw, she's so cute!" says a nearby couple. "So full of energy! I guess this magic act is pretty neat. Look at all the colors!"
"Oh honey!" says Mrs. Newlywed. "We need to have a little girl like her!"
Mr. Newlywed, who'd been eyeing Zatanna's legs, spits out his cocktail.
Gasteau claps his hands. "That little blue-haired girl is great! She should be in show business."
There's a moment's pause. Then Patrick smacks him upside the head a second time. "Moron!" he repeats.
A few of the crowd witnessing the exchange let out little bursts of laughter, whether or not the Stoic Space Monks react or not. The truth is, of course, that they don't. In fact it's that very subject that Vanilla addresses when she sidles up to Milfeulle. "Ehhh?" Milfeulle says, looking at Vanilla curiously. "My friend?" She turns back to look at J2, who hurriedly turns his face away, looking up to the sky and warbling electronically. Milfeulle blinks, looking over at the three white-suited real-estate investors, who have smug smiles on their faces. And then she turns to the Stoic Space Monks.
Above her head, a figurative representation of Hasbro's Mousetrap whirs and jingles and finally goes *SPROING*! Milfeulle's eyes go wide. "J2's going to sell the restaurant if someone doesn't-*" Suddenly she hears Zatanna and turns to the stage, holding up a hand excitedly. "Me! Me, me, me! I wanna volunteer! I love magic tricks!"
Worry not, Mr. Newlywed! A girl like Nano-Nano is impossible to give birth to! She has metal joints, after all. And metal everything else. But if anyone could be said to be enjoying the show so far, it'd be the little blue-haired girl. The dreaded space monks seem to have no affect on her. She's got too much energy for even them to siphon away. "Yeaaaaaaaah! Go, Auntie Milfie! You'll be the best assistant ever!" She hops back on the table to make sure she can see! Fortunately, despite being mechanical in nature, she's not so heavy as to destroy it.
Meanwhile, Vanilla seems lost deep in thought. She never thought she would see those particular monks in person! They are like a myth on the world she is from. The little shop was cursed to have them within it. Even Vanilla thought the magic was sort of neat, but them...This may require her personal attention...But for now, she makes her way back torwards her hyperactive tag-along. Someone has to keep the girl under control, after all.
That was a strange little.. kittylike girl there, but she was undeniably adorable. Unfortunately it isn't /her/ that Zatanna needs to win over. o O ( What will it take? Transfiguration? ) Turning the entire audience into animals? No.. something big, something big. There was one other possibility.. but it may take getting them on stage themselves. Hrm.
"All right, we have our volunteer! Just step on up here little lady," two of the beefcake assistants step forward to extend a hand and help Milfie on the stage. "Another volunteer? How about someone in the front row?" She glances pointedly at the monks. Who probably won't even so much as bat an eye, and if that's the case there certainly was a chance for someone else to jump in!
The legendary Stoic Space Monks of Serenity IX are completely unmoved. In fact they don't move a muscle. Not scratch their noses. Not to go to the bathroom. Not to shift position. In fact they are nothing short of a miracle of self-discipline! The only motion on them at all is the occasional draft of air shifting their garments, just a little. "It's those monks' fault," grunts J2, ocular sensors flashing back and forth, lifting a pneumatic manipulator grip to clench his robotic fist. "How can someone so holy be responsible for letting down an innocent young girl? I won't have it! I've got to do something." He looks back and forth, trying to formulate a plan.
Cut to Patrick, Jonathan and Gasteau, looking pleased with themselves! Except for Gasteau, who's sucking down a large orange juice. But he looks really pleased with that.
Cut to Mr. and Mrs. Newlywed, having a lover's spat! "My mother told me I should have married that six-headed alien monster down the street!" says Mrs. Newlywed. "Sure, he lives on human brains and his six heads are always arguing about who gets to wear the hat, but there's always compromise in a marriage!"
"Oh yeah?" retorts Mr. Newlywed. "Well maybe you should have! If he hasn't eaten your mother yet, it shows he's got more standards than I did when I married YOU!"
Cut to five bald men in flowing white clothes, elaborate tattoos on their heads, sipping water and eating a heaping helping of J2's Bottomless Salad Bowl. "What's with those stiffs in the front row?" one says. "This act is great! They haven't so much as batted an eye."
Another bald guy shrugs. "Eh, who knows. Now shut up, Lung! I bet this is gonna be good..."
"Eh, I dunno 'bout that," says another, picking his ear with a toothpick. "They need more martial arts!"
Cut to Milfeulle getting up on stage with Zatanna, smiling happily. "Wai! I'm going to be in a magic act!" She looks up at the hunks of beefcake who assisted her on-stage. "Thanks guys! Wow, it's too bad my friend Ranpha-san isn't here. She loves men with lots of muscles!" She nods her head up and down. "Probably because she likes to redecorate a lot and she needs help moving her things." She turns to the audience and waves her hands, doing a spin on her roller skates. "Yay! I'm volunteering! Everyone try the cheesecake, it's just delicious! And I'm not just saying so because I made it, I also want your money!" She smiles brightly.
As predicted, the black-robed figures motionlessly decline to volunteer. Their loss!
While those monks may not be hopping to volunteer, that doesn't mean that Zatanna will be lacking for willing victims! Suddenly, her and Milfeulle find themselves with a third person on the stage. Nano-Nano had leapt all the way from her table in the back to the middle of the stage in one gigantic leap. "WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Nano-Nano is going to be a volunteer, too! Do magic on Nano-Nano! It'll be fun, nanoda!" The little cat-thing seems eager, but 'mama' is content to just sit back and wait to see what horrors await Milfie and Nano. She settles down near the dreaded monks so as to have a good view both of the action, and of the most revered, unamused guests.
Sigh. Figures that those monks won't response. It's starting to get annoying. "What's with those guys?" IF they don't quit it, she's going to turn them into a lemur. "All right there hon, come on up," One of her beefcake men starts to reach a hand out to help Nano up, but - well she doesn't need their help at -all-!
"Okay ladies, into the footlocker - and try not to push and shove, please." It's at least roomy enough for two to just /barely/ fit. "I want to assure you that though this trick seems dangerous, it's perfectly safe. After all, it's only magic, right folks?" Zatanna grins, cast a quick wink at the crowd. Maybe a little danger will be enough to get those monks attention!" Once the girls have climbed inside, the men shut and lock the casing - where on closer inspection the footlocker /does/ have holes so they won't suffocate, of course. "This is the first time I've attempted such a trick," Lie. She knocks lightly on the footlocker, "By the way girls, what's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"
Master J2 draws himself up to full height, settles on his hydraulic lifts and trundles over to the table where the five Stoic Space Monks of Serenity IX are sitting, completely motionless. "For Milfie," he thinks to himself, clenching his prostheses. With a *stomp* *stomp* *stomp*, he propels himself to their table, moving up beside the one closest to the counter. Summons his power, his grace, his reserve, his very PRIDE as a restaurant manager!
And leans forward obsequiously, digits clenched beneath his cranium unit. "Gentlemen!" he blurts. "How is everything this evening? You know it is an honor to have you here tonight. However, I'm afraid the station has very strict anti-loitering rules. I'm terribly sorry to ask. But I must ask you to order something, simply for the sake of form, you understand. In fact, it'll be on the house! Oh yes! Completely gratis. Anything you like."
Complete, utter silence. Not a word. Not even a flicker of acknowledgement. J2's ocular casings nictate with a *click*. "Anything, anything at all," he says after a moment.
Just across the room, the five bald men in white are frowning at the scene taking place. "Somethin' really weird is going on," says yet another one in a high-pitched voice. Actually it's a girl's voice. So it's four men and a girl, fine, sue me! "Those five weirdos in black are makin' trouble for the owner!"
The martial-arts lover waves a hand. "Hey, not our problem. Now be quiet and let's watch some magic happen!"
Meanwhile, on stage, Milfeulle turns to Nano-Nano as the girl bounds up on stage. "Isn't this exciting! We're going to be magicked! I wonder if she'll turn me into a bride..." Stars appear in her eyes as she clutches her cheeks and swings back and forth. "Or!" Her eyes go wide, focus returning. "Into a seven layer cake with sugar frosting! That'd be good too!"
Milfeulle agreeably gets inside the footlocker. "Swirl!" she calls out to Zatanna's question excitedly. "Or Neapolitan! Anything where I get more than one flavor! It's like two ice creams for the price of one!"
Through it all, the five Space Monks say nothing, just sit there. Not J2's attentions nor the wonders taking place on stage do a thing to move them. It's almost as if they're cardboard cutouts covered in black robes instead of people!
Vanilla only knows of the monks through myth and legend, so for all she knows they COULD just be cardboard cutouts in black robes! Nano-Nano, however doesn't care. "Nano-Nano is going to be magical, too! Nano-Nano isn't sure she remember what magic is, but it should be fun, because auntie Milfie thinks it'll be fun!" It's fortunate that she's so small, it makes it easier for her to fit inside the box with Milfeulle. "Ice cream? Are you going to turn me into ice cream! Nano-Nano likes vanilla! Vanilla is like mama so Nano-Nano likes it because she likes mama, nanoda!" And then she goes silent to await the amazing power of magic.
Meanwhile, Vanilla is standing as quiet as the monks themselves, eyes locked on the box her friend and family were sealed within. She isn't worried. There's nothing this woman could do that's worse then anything they've done to themselves. But she's actually interested in the trick! Even if her face displays a lack of emotion that would make Mr. Spock jealous.
Nonsense! Jealousy is illogical! -- okay well maybe a little jealous. Zatanna chuckles at Nano's question, (Awww, she likes vanilla because she likes her mom. That's so cute. XD) "Not quite. That's a little big messy for what I've got in mind." She glances over her shoulder to the monks (and Vanilla by proxy). o O ( They're starting to piss me off. If THIS doesn't wow them.. ) She steps away from the footlocker, and her assistants turn it once again, tapping on the footlocker to show that there were no false panels or anything. "And now I say the 'magic words..'" She lifts her wand, waving it once, "Abra cadabra -(paz meht ot an eci maerc eppohs)!" She waves her hands downwards, throwing a pellet at the ground at the same time.
*POM!!* Scarlet smoke filters up to conceal the footlocker, and the lights flicker! OOH the power! The magic! Be AWED and AMAZED!
When the smoke clears, Zatanna taps on the footlocker with her wand lightly.. and it falls to pieces. But Nano Nano Pudding and Milfeulle are no longer in it! *GASP* Magic!
TO BE CONTINUED!