(no subject)

[constantdick]

WHO: John Constantine & YOU
WHERE: various locations
WHEN: november in general
WHAT: magical things! ignoring the coming apocalypse! (although that's likely to change)
WARNINGS: standard Constantine warnings, which include excessive drinking, chain-smoking and swearing


sentient trenchcoat hijinks, a random bar, any city;
[Through being in John's possession, his trenchcoat has absorbed dark magic and has became sentient, having emotions and its own demonic powers. These include the ability to curse and jinx people who wear it, mind control them into frenziedly violent or destructive behavior, and kill people by strangling them with its sleeves—at least that's what happens back home. Here however, it's developed an inclination to be a bit of a prankster at times; instead of strangling someone it might feel them up or cause them to behave bizarrely, but not necessarily violently. Perhaps you've borrowed it, found it lying about or draped over a chair and tried it on for a lark, or maybe you've stolen it.

But why would you steal a rumpled, dirty old coat, you might ask? Maybe that voice in your head has something to do with it. ]

You find me oddly compelling. Want to polish my buttons? Put me on.

[ooc: feel free to npc the coat yourself, or I'll be happy to do it!]

have portal, will travel; any city
[In his own world, John has the ability to open a direct portal to Hell, through which he can forcibly return demons to the underworld and occasionally step through it himself if he has business down there. Since arriving here, he's discovered that ability has been limited in some respects and expanded in others; namely, there doesn't appear to be a Hell in this world, so opening a portal doesn't go there. Instead, it leads to a different location on the Earthly plane, albeit still in this same dimension. This is what it looks like basically, with a fiery sigil appearing first, quickly becoming a swirling flaming vortex, expanding until it's about six feet high, with John subsequently stepping out of it (rather than standing behind it as depicted in the link)]

[He nods affably at anyone who might be standing close by as the flaming portal behind him disappears, casually lighting a cigarette.] Nice day, eh? Where the nearest pub at?


got any other ideas? wildcard me baby
[bonus points for any scenario that might need him to be naked and covered in chicken blood]

Comments

portal!

[ct_7567]

[ The world is ending. That's what everyone's saying, anyhow, and that's how it feels what with everything that's been going on. In accordance with that, it's not as surprising as it ought to be when a horrifying, hellish looking thing opens up in reality. Rex's first thought is: of course. And his second thought is: kriff, is that going to kill me?

By the time Constantine steps out of it, he's met with Rex, blaster leveled directly at the damn thing. He doesn't know what he's going to do about it - what's he going to do, shoot the horrible portal to hell? - but in his experience, he always feels better when there's something to shoot. He hadn't been expecting a man to step out of it.

His blaster doesn't lower immediately, but he doesn't look particularly inclined to shoot either, looking more befuddled than anything else. ]

What in the blazes was that?

[constantdick]

[Considering that when John has stepped through portals before, he generally finds a demon on the other side, a bloke pointing a gun at him (or it) is not all that disconcerting. It's not as if he had any idea what might be stepping out of it after all.]

Just a little magical shortcut from one location to another in this particular plane of reality, mate.

Now then, about that pub?

[Asking the important questions.]

[ct_7567]

[ Rex lowers his blaster, still looking put-out. He doesn't like surprises of this ilk, but the fellow wasn't doing anything wrong. Except for calling him his mate. He doesn't say anything, but he can't say he's keen on that either. ]

You're the one with the teleporting powers. Why didn't you look one up and teleport straight there instead?

[constantdick]

[Anyone who objects to being called 'mate' is likely to get called 'pet' instead, so be his guest really.]

I take it you don't actually know, do yeh? It's alright, I can ask someone who's got less of a stick up their arse.

[ct_7567]

[ Rex raises a brow at him. ]

I'm saying that if you've got the ability to teleport anywhere, it's faulty planning. And pointing that out has nothing to do with anyone's knowledge of the city, [ he says shortly. ]

But by all means, wander until you find one.

trenchcoat

[the_caped_crusader]

No.

[ batman sits down at the table, regarding the coat as he might john himself-- with barely contained frustration. ]

I'm looking for John.

[constantdick]

[Where is John? If the coat knows, it's not saying. Although odds are he's in the loo, taking a leak.]

You want to be ravaged by me; unbuttoned by me, undone by me.

[the_caped_crusader]

Sorry, I'm spoken for.

[ batman stares at the sleeve of the coat for a minute, and reaches out to tug lightly at a loose strand at the end. by now, most of the bar has given a wide berth to the man dressed as a bat talking to an inanimate coat. ]

I'm also getting impatient.

[constantdick]

[The coat does not appreciate being unraveled, oh no. There's an edge to the voice as it repairs itself, sounding distinctly smug by the end.]

Frayed edges meticulously mended; brutally sliced ends joined together. Whole again, stronger than before.

['MUWAHAHAHA' implied.]

sentient trenchcoat! if this isn't okay, i'd be happy to change it! :V

[mortalweapon]

[ Danger is a machine of varied skills. Most of them fall into the realm of what people might consider to be the usual robot repertoire - calculations, analysis, construction, hacking, and so forth. But somewhere along the way, amid all the hacking and calculations, she had very briefly studied under the Sorcerer Supreme. And so, here was a sentient AI with passable proficiency in the occult. Good enough to contain a demon or two, at least.

She is also a naturally curious creature, and while she isn't so inclined to drink (the metal chassis - not great for absorbing liquids), she is inclined to investigate any significant ruckus. That's what leads her into the bar. With the coat. The apparently self-aware and murderous coat - which was only at a disadvantage because, 1) a robot can hardly be strangled, and 2) because the Sorcerer Supreme had taught Danger spells specifically for the purpose of containment. Long story, that one.

Which leads to this: One very tall, blue armored machine standing outside a bar in Maurtia Falls with a knotted trenchcoat in her hands, illuminated by the gentle glow of light blue sigils. Mildly, she chides the coat in that echoing, metallic voice of hers: ]

Behave yourself.

it's fine!

[constantdick]

[The coat has encountered a great variety of beings in the course of its existence, but this creature is something outside its experience. It is puzzled, although that does not stop it from attempting to control the blue individual.]

You find me oddly compelling. Touch me. Fondle me. I'm like the skin you never had.

[mortalweapon]

I have no desire to acquire skin at the moment, thank you.

[ Her tone might be a little pointed. The slight narrowing of her eyes gives the impression that she's... Squinting at the coat in her hands. Suspicious, maybe? Skeptical? ]

To whom do you belong?

[constantdick]

I belong to humanity; can you not detect the stench of their fickleness? It's clinging to my tender fibers. Choking my pretty knitting.

You however, are not human. In your grasp, I feel positively youthful. Freshly unpacked and crisp with starch.

You make my buttonholes quiver.

[It's True Love, clearly.]

portal

[goodtobebad]

[ Crowley doesn't seem alarmed, or startled, or even particularly concerned by the sudden appearance of what looks like a portal to Hell on the sidewalk near the pastry shop where he just bought some goodies.

At worst, he just looks mildly annoyed. He might have to perform a minor miracle to keep the scones warm. ]

Neat trick. Can you control where it spits you out, or are you just joyriding?

[constantdick]

[Oh look, it's that demon. Not that he seems to be a bad fellow as far as demons go; John's definitely met worse—Blathoxi, the Demon Lord of Flatulence, for example. This guy? He just seems a bit whingy.]

Oh, I can control everything about it, squire. Looking for a way 'ome, are yeh? Lemme see what I can do.

[Meaning open an actual portal to Hell, that is.]

[goodtobebad]

[ Crowley raises an eyebrow skeptically. ]

If you can create a portal back to my own dimension, I'd have to wonder why you haven't used it yourself. Unless you really like it here.

[ Because "home" for him hasn't been Hell in literally thousands of years, so it doesn't even cross his mind. ]

[constantdick]

Nah, can't do that, sorry to say. But that's not what I'm talking about. As you probably can guess, traditionally, this 'ere's a portal to Hell and while I can't open one to the place we're both familiar with, maybe this dimension's got a Hell of its own. It might not be the same, but you'd probably still feel right at 'ome.

[What kind of demon doesn't love Hell (in any form) after all.]

portal

[anathemic]

[ Some of the locals run scattering and screaming (you never know when a portal is spitting out an imPort or some kind of horrific attack), but the nearest woman simply goes stock-still in the middle of the pavement, holding a cup of coffee. Anathema looks startled, but not exactly surprised. She's been carried through portals before by Lilith, and this one has a distinctly different feel: more flashy, more literally fiery— ]

Next street over. The, um, Wailing Cod. It's one of those tacky wannabe-pubs but a little more unsettling. The fish on the wall screams.

[ She'd been to real English pubs in the short time she lived there. Jeopardy's idea of one is not the same. ]

Sorry, could you show me how you did that one? I didn't catch all of the sigil.

[constantdick]

[A person certainly does make an entrance stepping out of a fiery vortex like this, that's for certain. Generally one might expect something demonic to appear, as opposed to a slightly unkempt, unshaven and fairly innocuous looking bloke in a rumpled trenchcoat.]

Much obliged. Does it now? That sounds either entertaining or downright annoying.

[He tilts his head, looking just a little bit like he's assessing her.]

I could show you, but it takes a lot of study to actually learn such a thing. Any experience?

SRY FOR THE DELAY life ate me alive

[anathemic]

Both, somehow. A little bit of both.

[ Anathema flashes him a smile. And their assessment goes both ways: the woman clutching her paper coffee cup and surveying the man over its rim. In her heeled boots, he's only a couple inches taller than her, and not... exactly the neat and tidy and buttoned-up magicians she's more accustomed to. ]

A lifetime, [ she admits, her voice light. ] My magic's more powerful in this universe, though, for whatever reason. So I wouldn't have been able to emulate whatever-you-did back home, but here, and with enough study...

[ She splays her free hand, a sort of maybe?? gesture. Who can say? She's still testing the boundaries of this world, nosing along the edges of what her powers can do. ]

[constantdick]

[Constantine is definitely more of the seedy magical hobo type to be sure.]

More powerful 'ere, really? [He takes a drag of his cigarette as he digests that, considering his is more the opposite.] I find I'm more limited in that it's confined to this dimension. Can't create an actual portal to Hell, for example.

[He doesn't think, not having tried all that hard.]

portal (de chima) :>

[cantgetanyworse]

[And who happens to be standing there, with a look of terror half-frozen onto her face and one foot slightly turned as if she meant to run and got entirely distracted from the action, is a young woman in a long skirt and white blouse. She appears immediately relieved that someone human (or, human-looking) stepped out of the thing and immediately brings her hand to her pounding heart.]

Oh, my goodness. [She breathes out, giving a quick shake of her head and an uncertain little smile.] You gave me quite a fright. I, ah... [Tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, she looks around.]

I believe there's one just down the street, that way.

[constantdick]

[Constantine, for his part, does not seem the least bit sorry to have startled anyone, looking for all the world as if stepping out of a Hellish fiery vortex is perfectly commonplace—which it is, in some respects. For him anyway.]

Much obliged. Care to join me? To make up for me giving you a scare like that.

[Apparently that won't stop him from using it as a pick-up line, though.]

[cantgetanyworse]

Oh, well, I...

[Yes, of course, why shouldn't stepping out of a fiery vortex like you didn't do just that very thing be anything to worry about at all? Jane's heart is still in her throat, but she composes herself and manages a smile.]

Certainly, but perhaps we ought to begin with introductions? Jane Porter.

[constantdick]

Oh right, yeah.

[Social niceties, what are those?]

John Constantine, at your service.

[He'll then produce a business card, which he offers to her.]