(Edited with Grammarly on 10/1/2026)
Albert knew he would be feeling ridiculous once he separated himself from this situation, knew that looking back on this moment he would be beating himself over the head with just how stupid and petulant he was being. It had just been a glance, one that lasted a mere microsecond too long, and it was enough to cause him to feel this crushed about it.
And now here he was about to force himself to not enjoy the show, his very first introduction to actual magic. The stuff he spent almost his entire life dreaming about. But because he didn't like the way someone looked at him, he'd decided to make sure to ruin it for himself.
Alas, despite being fully aware of this, logic once again was useless before the raging boar that was his emotions. To the point that he barely even registered when the overhead lights dimmed dramatically, to even the light chatter all around him dropping to something barely above a whisper. Hell, he didn't even fully register Marceline using his arm as a drum as she excitedly inched forward on her seat, her eyes glued to the now billowing crimson curtain.
Drums began to play in the background, loud things that easily crashed over the previously relaxing, welcoming tune. Each strike sent a resounding thump up his legs and through his chest until it seemed to instill energy into the air around them. It filled the theater with life and excitement as more people perked up.
Saxophones were blown, their blaring call coming from some unseen orchestra, it too falling in step to create this energetic jazzy tune that honestly, in normal instances, would've made him feel the urge to tap his feet in concert...Who was he kidding? The only thing that stopped him from doing exactly that was pure spite, but that didn't mean the others were unaffected.
He could feel it, feel the off-rhythm taps or stomps of feet from either side of him, his group all but enraptured by the cacophony of sound. Practically feel their excitement buzzing off of them as the anticipation built up with them.
And that's when strings were plucked, each thrum causing his entire body to vibrate in turn. Upbeat in nature, unseen bass or guitars? Some kind of stringed instrument, played somewhere else out of sight but still somehow seemed to come from all around him. Like he was in the middle of a grand symphony.
All together, the 'random' noises came together to form this high-energy jazzy tune, one that made him want to hop to his feet and break out into a dance that he would probably regret in the morning.
Right as the song reached its crescendo, right when he believed the cops would be busting down the door just from the noise complaints they were surely getting, a voice called out through the noise.
"Good evening folks!" The announcer's voice crackled to life from all around them, making it all but impossible to try and pretend like they hadn't heard it. "Welcome to Monarch Theatre! And let us all welcome a set of very special guests tonight!"
"Coming all the way from The City of Sin itself, Las Vegas, Nevada!"
"Two magicians widely acclaimed for their physics-defying feats! Such as: The Disappearing crowd! Turning a woman into a lioness! Wriggling out of the most complicated and heretical constraints! And their most famous trick, granting elephants flight!"
"This father-daughter duo has boggled the minds of every American for years now!"
"Let us present: The famous! The ever elusive! The Un-trappable! The-let's give them a drumroll!" The unseen band slowed down their tempo, making it far easier for the crowd to stomp their feet and clap in something resembling concert. Just long enough to cause the already mile-high anticipation to barely bubble over. "The Zataras!"
At once, the crimson curtains were drawn back, revealing what seemed to be a cartoon version of Gotham's night streets. Layered in doom and gloom with a few differently shaped streetlights leaning noticeably to the side, the dark roads wound up and up until they disappeared far off into the background.
In the foreground, a few props were layered haphazardly on the ground. Two hoops, a star-covered trio of oddly shaped boxes, and a rather ominous-looking glass tank of water covered in all manner of heavy-duty locks.
The star of the show, well, at least one of them, stood proudly before the crowd. He was a tall middle-aged man who seemed to have aged gracefully, with his inky black hair slicked back under a simple but spotless black top hat. Wearing a perfectly ironed black three-piece suit and a pair of pure white gloves. In one hand, he held a standard magician's staff. Pure black with a small sparkling white strip around its tip.
His other hand lay pressed upon his right breast pocket, which held a bright red handkerchief folded primly.
The older gentleman bowed low to the crowd, the hat somehow disregarding gravity as it remained affixed atop his head.
"Welcome all! I am the Great Zatara! Master Illusionist and Escape Artist! Tonight, don't we have a show for you! I would love to extend my thanks to you, Gothamites, for accepting us into your fair city! And...Well, isn't that a gratuitous surprise, a full house it seems?! Now we really need to step up our game!" Giovanni Zatara, probably one of the most powerful people in the city at that very moment, stood ramrod straight. A wide smile stretched over his thin mustache-covered lips, causing lines and wrinkles to spread around his forehead and eyes. It was just oozing friendliness and a sort of confidence that people couldn't help but envy to some degree. Looking side to side with a faux disappointed expression. "As much as I would love to start the show, it seems my daughter has lost track of the time! Please forgive her for that; she's quite the perfectionist, and I'm sure she just got caught up in something backstage…But worry not! I, the Great Zatara, will not make you wait! For my first trick…"
With a mere flick of his wrist, the two hoops flew into his outstretched hand from all the way across the stage. Each spun in such complex concentric patterns that it boggled the mind. Snatching them out of the air, a combined exclamation fluttered amongst the crowd. People turned to their neighbors with wide eyes and even wider smiles as they began to clap in unison.
"Thank you, thank you!" The Great Zatara bowed repeatedly before he suddenly dropped one of the clasped-together hoops. Instead of the emptiness that it should've been, a plain paper curtain connected the two objects. Forming a sort of screen that he proceeded to wave at as he presented it to the crowd. That in itself was already a set of logic-defying tricks. But all of it was at least somewhat explainable if there was a proper skeptic in the crowd. As when the beam lights landed on the curtain, an outline could be seen. Not just a still shadow, but something living. There, seeming to sit at some dresser with an adjustable mirror before their face while they held up some object to their lips.
As if they couldn't sense the collective eyes of a full house, the figure continued to apply the final touch-ups.
The stage magician turned back to the crowd with a heavily exaggerated exasperated expression, something that caused a few bouts of raucous laughter to break out amongst the sea of people. Loud, meaty claps sounded out as most of the older men looked to each other with a certain glance that seemed to hold an entire conversation between them. It was a mere moment of camaraderie that quickly faded just as quickly as it appeared.
Even Malcolm joined in. He clapped a bit too loudly while turning his head every which way with the same smile plastered across his face. Before it too faded away under the combined stares from both of his...sisters? Daughters? Housemates?
Raising a lone gloved fist up, the gentleman knocked on the screen, and instead of breaking through the sheet, the sound of wood echoed out. His knuckles bounced off like it was actually solid.
The figure froze, their lips visibly puckered for a moment before he spoke.
"I believe we've kept our guests waiting long enough, don't you think?... What do you fine folks think?"
Cheers and claps followed at his prodding, to the point that even Albert almost found himself being swept up in the sheer energy of the room. It was an intoxicating feeling, so much so that he could feel his tensed shoulders and sour expression melting away.
Giovanni Zatara was good. Very, very good at molding his audience. He just seemed to ooze a sort of charisma that made people just naturally fall into step with his tempo. Whether it was due to magic or just sheer amounts of experience, he couldn't even begin to parse it out.
Whatever the case, despite his sour mood, a small smile wormed its way onto his face. Completely unbidden.
'Maybe I was being too sensitive.'
Hearing the ever-growing cheering, the figure languidly snatched up a pair of high-heeled shoes and hobbled from foot to foot as they scampered to the 'door'. Stomping them on, they gained another few inches of height before they reached off to the side and plopped a short top hat on their luscious mane.
Reaching their hand out, gloved fingers poked through the surface of the paper sheet. Earning gasps from the attentive crowd, which only grew in volume as more fingers joined the fray before they hooked and tore away at the screen. Stepping out, a familiar figure stood before them.
And just like that, he felt so incredibly small all over again. All that burgeoning ease being ripped away from him with one careless yank.
There, Zatara beamed at the crowd. Her lips coated in a fresh layer of gloss, a few touch-ups of makeup around her eyes to make those massive blues positively pop even from so far away.
If before, the cheering had been loud, now it was nearly deafening as many people stood to their feet as one. Clapping and whistling out at the feet. And it was soon the entire theater once the gentleman allowed the twin hoops to clatter to the ground where the paper curtain seemed to disappear. Leaving nothing connecting the two but space.
"I said I just needed five more minutes!"
"That was twenty minutes ago!"
The father-daughter duo, after bowing once more to the crowd, turned to each other. Their voices carried through an unseen mic, meaning this family squabble was probably more than likely a part of their bit.
Giovanni raised his hands in a placating fashion, looking over at the crowd and smiling shamefully as if they were an unwilling witness.
"How about this," He waved the girl forward, drawing her attention away from him and to the crowd instead. "As an apology for making you rush, how about you start this show off! Choose anything you like!"
"…" That seemed to bring her up short, a wide, mischievous smile gracing her lips. "Anything?"
"Maybe keep the bigger stuff for later on in the show, and you all, be nice to my daughter while I'm away!"
Turning his back to her, he was completely unaware of the devious grin slowly taking over her expression. He ignored the few attendees that pointed behind him, trying to warn the man, but it was like he'd grown blind and deaf to the crowd. Instead, he seemed to have tripped over nothing. Stumbling in place, his own immovable hat fell from its perch and rolled away a few feet.
Bending, the man left himself completely open as his daughter pointed a simple white-tipped staff at his back.
"TROPELET!"
Zatanna's voice boomed with power before he was engulfed in a purple cloud that roared into the ceiling for a mere moment before it dissipated just as soon as it appeared. Leaving nothing but an abandoned top hat and a visibly smoking pair of shoes on the ground.
Cackling like mad, she turned to the crowd with her chest puffed out. Looking for all to see as extremely proud, basking in the claps and gasps that filled the massive room. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, but the same couldn't be said for Albert in that moment.
'That was magic.'
Maybe some more of what he'd seen was magic as well, but this? That famous backwards casting he just heard her do so frivolously? It was a blatant thing, like a slap in the face. There were no complicated arcana symbols and no violent chanting over a bloody corpse. In one moment, one of the most powerful Homo-Magi in the world was there, and in the next, she sent him elsewhere. The gulf between him and the stage only opened up further, the yawning black seeming so...so familiar that it made his stomach churn at the thought.
And she'd done it so effortlessly. Not even requiring a ritual or really any degree of set up. Maybe Zatara could've defended himself against it, but what was Albert supposed to do against something like that? What would happen if some rogue Homo-Magi decided to just poof him out of existence?
'No.' That wasn't fair. Meta-Humans could do the same. Either way, he wouldn't have a semblance of an idea how he'd died before it happened. It wasn't the same feeling of facing down death by the end of a barrel from Black Mask; at least there he could actually see the threat. But with this? All this magical, supernatural stuff? It was the fact he didn't fully understand it, that he couldn't deconstruct it or really defend himself from it, that made him feel like he was drowning in a downward spiral.
"How do you think they did that?" Michael whispered-shouted from a few seats over. "Do you think they'll let us take a look at the stage after the show? You know, to look for trapdoors."
"There's obviously a trapdoor!" Dillon pointed excitedly to the stage, her eyes growing a lot more animated as she allowed herself to fully immerse herself in the energy. "I saw it! Through the smoke, I saw him drop down!"
The blonde and Albert shared a look across the numerous bodies between them; the man hadn't dropped out underneath the stage. No loose boards or some pulley were yanking him high into the sky, with the smoke acting as a screen. Maybe the Veil was doing some work to try and explain away the irregularities of this show, but he knew for certain there was no 'trick' involved here.
An uneasy thought they both shared if the noticeable pallor to her skin and the way she desperately clutched at her armrest with enough force to leave behind visible dents, was anything to go by. With some twisted logic, he even began to feel a bit more at ease.
Misery loved company after all.
Movement dragged his attention back to the show, and it seemed the young magician hadn't been idle. She stood beside the three oddly stacked boxes, each of them covered in stars.
Tapping her wand on the top once, she turned back to the crowd with a large, satisfied smile across her lips. And without saying another word, a gloved hand turned some latch on the side and allowed the box's face to yawn open.
Gasps fluttered amongst them before falling into a low hush as they all beheld the sight before them. As in that box was their middle-aged host for the night. His face turned down into a mix of faux fright and some levels of annoyance.
"Zatanna!" Giovanni shook his head the best he could from within those tight constraints. "You've had your fun! Now let me out of here!"
"In just one moment." Zatanna beamed as the boxes began to shake from side to side as her father tried to wriggle out. Stepping forward, she closed the lid on the exposed face before reaching down and pulling the second box from underneath the first. Allowing it to slam down hard onto the third with a bit more concerning weight than expected. Placing it on top, she unlatched both the top and bottom latches before sliding away with her arms stretched out. Presenting the frankly uneasy sight before them.
Suit-covered arms burst forward from the newly placed top box, gloved fingers wriggling and waving every which way as they tried to reach for where it thought its head would be. Patting frantically at the empty air above it, the torso began to mirror the panic from the crowd.
"W-what in the w-world…"
"What kind of hocus-pocus did you just drag me into…"
"It's gotta be a robotic arm or puppetry or something? Right?"
"M-maybe there's t-two people in there?"
It wasn't an inherently gory sight, with not even a speck of blood or anything concerning like that. Just the sight of a clearly distressed, disembodied torso wriggling around, looking for its head, would be enough to fill even the toughest of people with dread.
And that was before Giovanni's head began to speak.
"You had your fun! Now, put my body back together! Look! You're scaring them!"
"Oh good lord…" The mutter started off low, but it quickly became a common sentiment amongst a majority of those in attendance. Those clearly uninitiated into the weirdness of this world sent each other uncertain glances and strained but confused smiles. How people hadn't fainted already, Albert didn't really know, but this had to be stretching the Veil to its limit. But again, what did he know? After all, wouldn't a Homo-Magi as powerful as the Zataras be fully aware of the Veil's limit? So maybe this much wasn't even making it break a sweat.
"I would love to!" The Mage circled the trio of boxes, rubbing her chin theatrically as she did so. Before she stopped right outside the flailing arms' reach with a shrug. "But it seems I don't remember how!"
"...What?"
"What?!"
The cries and exclamations came out from either side of him, mixing together with the audience's until it was almost like they were a hive mind.
"What do you mean, you don't remember how?!"
"I know where they need to go, but I don't remember exactly how to put you back together again...Oh well, we'll just have to leave it up to chance!"
"Chance?!"
"Yes! Chance!" Zatanna motioned out to the side, beckoning forward a man dressed in a simple black suit, pushing a tall curtain rack over. "Give it up for our assistant, Chance!"
Slow, unsure claps sounded out as the man grew closer until he stopped right beside the girl before bowing slightly to the crowd and scampering off stage. Looking as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.
"Don't worry about him! He's a bit shy, is all!" Waving her hands over the sheet, she began to explain. "But have you folks ever played Yahtzee? Well, the concept is one and the same; this curtain will act as a cup, and we'll keep rolling until my father is back together in one piece!"
"Wait, Zatanna!" The head turned his eyes to the side, a pleading look on his face that did nothing to earn even a semblance of sympathy from the girl. "We can talk about this; let's not be too hasty now!"
"Worry not, folks." She turned her back fully to the man, completely unaware of the look of fear on his face disappearing and a simply roguish expression replacing it. Winking to the crowd boyishly, he twisted his face back up into a pleading fear a moment later as she looked over her shoulder at him. "No Italians shall be harmed in this process! He won't even feel it!"
"Zatanna!"
Weaving between the flailing arms, she forced them back into the box before securing both the latches and the curtain over the trio. With her wand in hand, she circled around the curtain, momentarily disappearing behind the bright purple sheet.
Doing this once, and twice before she stood in the center stage.
"I am now open to bets. How many tries do you think we need? I think we're going to need at least...Hmm, let's say five! What about you folks?"
"Two times!"
"Ten!"
"Five!"
"One hundred!"
"A hundred tries? I sure hope not!" She laughed deeply, clasping her stomach as she did so. Rubbing away at a tear clinging to the corner of her eye, she continued. "Else I'll be grounded until the day I get married! Let's hope for a smaller number! Well, enough guessing! Let's get started! Just remember your numbers!"
With that, she waved her wand around theatrically, and Albert would admit it, he flinched at the motion. He sank deeper in his seat as he saw purple sparkles trail off it. And felt as if someone had walked across his grave the very moment that strange word left her lips.
"EKAHS!"
Underneath the curtain, motion stirred. The trio was shuffling and shaking in a manner that reminded him of dice being shaken in a cup. Lasting for only a few moments, the curtains went back to their still state.
Twirling on her heels, she began to circle the sheet once more. Disappearing behind it for a second time. But something odd happened then. Zatanna, in her high heels, was a tad bit taller than her father. So trying to distinguish them by height alone would be a tall order, but the luscious black curls that gave her a far more distinct outline were more than enough of an identifier.
"HOW?!"
As walking from the other end of the purple curtain, a refined gentleman came walking out. He wore a suit freshly pressed and slicked-back black hair with not even a single strand out of place. Waving his own wand, those shoes flew across the stage and slid themselves back into place. That top hat followed soon after as he caught it with one hand and placed it gently atop his head.
Reaching out, he ripped away the curtain, walked over to the top box before unlatching it and allowing the 'door' to swing open. Revealing a befuddled and bright red face surrounded by thick black curls that spilled out from the sides.
Giovanni Zatara bowed deeply to the crowd, who at this point had all stood as one with hoots and loud clapping.
Even without his friends standing as one to give their own applause, Albert still stood to clap alongside the crowd. It was an incredibly impressive sight, and he wouldn't disrespect their craft by pretending it wasn't.
As the clapping went on until his palms felt as if they were prepared to split open, the master magician held his gloved hands to his heart. A genuine, closed-eye smile stretched itself across his face. Allowing all those aged lines to form and deepen.
"Thank you! Thank you! You're all too kind! Too kind!"
(A/N: First thank you all for reading! I wouldn't have reached this point without you guy's support! For some odd reason, I kept having to go back and check I wasn't calling them Zeppeli instead of Zatara. Maybe I just had Jojos on the mind. But in all seriousness, I had a lot of fun writing this. I wasn't really sure at first how I was going to write about a magic show but here it is! Hope you all enjoyed! I will see all of you next week!)