No man ask for under pressure {OPEN}

[heckblazer]

WHO: John Constantine and YOU
WHERE: Various locations
WHEN: Early to mid-November
WHAT: Open logs, mostly of the scuzzy magicman screwing around
WARNINGS: Swear words inevitable, will update with other warnings as needed


[ HEROPA - outskirts of town ]

[ Finally, things had calmed down enough for John to do some investigating.

On a quiet afternoon he makes it to the edge of town, using his device's mapping system to find a nearby swamp. It's not a hard task considering it's Florida.

Being as well-rested as he was going to get, John decided to see if he could summon an old mate. A big, green mean one that liked to hang around swamps. Maybe he existed in this world, in which case John had questions. Maybe he had to summon the fella from somewhere else, in which case, even more questions.

John situates his skinny arse on a rock by the edge of the water, focuses and chants. He does this for about five minutes, with nothing happening. ]

C'mon, Swampy. Come on out or the poseys get it.

[ If someone were to happen upon John in this moment, they might find him grumbling curses as he threateningly holds up a fistful of flowers and weeds to his lighter. Very menacing. ]


[ MAURTIA FALLS - the wrong side of the tracks]

[ In absense of anything else to do, John decided to hop through the porter and visit the town he was becoming swiftly attached to. He's currently three beers in at a passable bar - even if it is a boring, American bar they had the decency to stock Guinness. At least a to-go, UK beer existed in this world. He's far from drunk, given how inhumanely high his tolerance is, but he feels a pleasant warmth as he exchanges interested looks with the girl behind the bar.

Another equally-cute bird flies behind the bar, muttering something panicked in her co-worker's ear. Something about the live music calling in sick. John feels a wash of relief over him at the news, secure in the knowledge that he can enjoy his drinks without some upstart boy crooning a bad acoustic cover of modern pop rubbish.

The moment doesn't last. Somebody recognizes him, then another person, then he's got a fourth Guinness in hand and he's being coerced onto the bar's small stage, an acoustic guitar being shoved into his hands. He's sober enough to know this is a bad idea and buzzed enough to not quite care. ]


Right, folks, just don't make me do Stairway.

[ He starts a simple few chords on the instrument and leans into the mic, singing the first thing that comes to mind. He's clearly out of practice, but... somehow not terrible? ]


[ WILDCARD ]

[ Throw other prompt ideas at me, I don't bite! Much. ]

Comments

streets of Heropa - night

[lightinside]

[ It had been some time since Laurel had donned her vigilante gear and went out onto the streets to patrol and look out for any unsavoury characters. After a few hours of snooping around and finding nothing, Laurel decides to head back to her apartment and relax for the rest of the night.

Ducking into an alley, she removes her gloves, eye mask and stores them away in a backpack along with her tonfas; no need to make anyone suspicious of her or learn her identity as the Black Canary. Then Laurel moves out onto the main street and towards home. It was all smooth sailing until her shoelace came undone and she had to stoop down to tie it up.

In the middle of the street. ]

Dammit.

[heckblazer]

[ Normally John was skeptical of those in the cape community - self-righteous meddlers and showoffs, for the most part. But he can tolerate the ones that happen to be pretty girls. So suffice it to say that the little bird in the mask caught his attention.

His evening stroll stays within a few blocks of the girl's patrol so he can watch with curiosity. Who knows, maybe he was one of the lowlifes she was looking out for. It's not direct, deliberate stalking, but he keeps his eye open when he can.

He's not an amazing investigator, but he feels the prickling of suspicion when he sees her figure emerge from the alley uncostumed - assuming it's the same girl, anyway. Even motions like tying her shoelace are guarded - though it's a shame the movement and the dark of the street obscures her figure any more.

Not that it stops him from sauntering over while she's distracted. ]

Terribly boring here without colorful bad guys to beat up, innit?

[lightinside]

[ Laurel had grown accustomed to going out on patrol alone without the backup of her team. That very team might chastise her for taking on solo missions but Laurel knew that she couldn't sit idly by and do nothing. She believed in her mission to help those in need.

She was almost finished with her shoelace when the soft sound of footsteps caught her attention. Laurel didn't look up at first, believing that it was just a passerby on their way to somewhere else. It's only when she hears John speak that Laurel finishes up, raising her eyes to look at him. She's perfectly still and calm, but ready to spring into action if necessary.

Sorry, John. It's just her being careful. ]

Sure. If you're into that sort of thing. [ A beat. ] Can I help you?

[heckblazer]

[ Bugger. He thought he was being much sneakier. Maybe he shouldn't pull moves on cape types when tipsy. Maybe. ]

I'm like you, luv, a concerned citizen.

[ Which isn't strictly true - he kind of really thinks super-types are with few exceptions wankers and a waste of time. But it creates small talk which, in theory, should charm her long enough for him to get an assessment on whether she's useful, at least to him. ]

[lightinside]

Concerned citizen, huh?

[ Laurel replies, straightening herself up. She brushes some dust off her clothes and rolls her shoulders, keeping her attention on him. Completely casual but guarded at the same time. ]

And what exactly caused you concern? Everything seems fine to me.

[ Trying to suss him out as well as his motivation. ]

[heckblazer]

[ Mostly what causes him concern is how little he trusts any super as far as he can swing a dead cat. But he's torn between that and the fact that she's fairly easy on the eyes. But, no point in actually saying any of that. Might as well keep bullshitting 'til he can figure her out. ]

Well, see, everything bein' fine is what concerns me. Why'd the fellas with those portal machines pull in so many, ah- heroes without giving 'em anything to do?

[ Which isn't a complete lie. He's never stopped suspecting that something is rotten in this world, beneath all the pleasantries. But alas, John is not a good enough investigator to do much more than grumble about said suspicions. ]

[lightinside]

[ Not everyone trusted heroes or well, vigilantes back in Laurel's world. She remembers how persistent her father was when it came to hunting down the Arrow; he seemed to think about nothing else.

They have got things to do. A job, making connections...stuff they'd probably do back home. As for the hero part, I think those 'fellas' as you call them would want us to do good with our powers. But that doesn't mean we have to. We have our own free will.

[ So for every hero, there was probably at least one villain. It was mostly speculation on her part. ]

[heckblazer]

[ In spite of the typical heroic platitudes he does smirk a wee bit at her response. She's certainly right about the free will bit, if only the likes of heaven and hell would stop meddling.

He leans in closer, conspiringly. It's probably stupid to ask this in the middle of a public street, but catching people off guard is the best way to get an honest answer: ]

Y'really think they're all they appear to be?

[lightinside]

[Laurel may have tensed a fraction when he leans in. She would blame it on the fact that he was a total stranger, and her natural instinct to be wary.]

I like to hope that what you see is what you get with them, but my gut tells me something else. They could be hiding the truth, or some of it anyway. I mean they're not exactly out in the open all the time, are they? There's no visibility with them.

@ heropa

[divaricate]

[Wanda is doing her own wandering in a visit in Heropa; she's never really seen a swamp before, so when she got on the edge of the city and found one, of course she had to explore. Even if her outfit isn't even remotely suited for swamp adventures.

She recognizes the man who is threatening flowers (????), from the one time she spoke to him on the network recently-ish. She's a little distracted by wondering what the hell he's doing that she misses her step and slips.]

Ack! [A loud yelp of surprise as she lands, getting wet and mud on her. And then a string of curses in Sokovian -- a language that sounds nearly identical to Serbian.]

[heckblazer]

[ His attention is caught by the cute girl slipping into the mud. Hastily, he tosses aside the fistful of plants. He's probably been caught in the middle of much weirder-looking things before, but he takes care when there are pretty ones afoot. Besides, it's proving futile to summon The Big Green. Either he's not here, can't be summoned here, or doesn't want to be. None of which John blames him for.

He saunters over to where she's fallen, looking pitiously at her ruined clothes. Shame really, he can appreciate a carefully-crafted punk aesthetic. ]

First time in a swamp, luv? Sorry to say they're not more interesting. 'Least, this one innit.

[ He leaves a hand out, calloused and bony as it is, to help her up. ]

[divaricate]

Yeah -- [a short, almost self-deprecating laugh, as if to say 'what gave it away?'] -- and I don't think they like me. [She wipes her hand off before taking his and pulling herself up.] Thanks. [A quick nod.]

You frequent swamps often, then? I thought there'd be more scenic places to get high and light stuff on fire, but what do I know? [Yeah she's just gonna go with assuming that being what he was doing.]

[heckblazer]

Got a mate who likes to hang around 'em. Thought I could maybe coax him out. [ But then John catches himself freely explaining personal things. Always the pretty ones to loosen his lips. He's got to be more careful. ]

Not that your guess innit true as well.

[ He glances at her again - totally scoping out the dirt on her clothes, that is completely what he is doing. ]

Shame I don't know a decent cleaning spell.

[divaricate]

I can live with half right. [A more teasing smile.] I remember when you got here you mentioned going through multiple circles of hell before, and now it's friends who hang out by swamps -- there's no shortage of interesting here, but you might actually be on the higher end of that list. [For real though, talk about a wide range on that spectrum.] Of course, both the good looks and accent don't hurt either.

[ikr it's gr8 dirt isn't it? It takes skill to do that (not really, unless being a disaster counts as a skill). Also shameless flirting is a go. She is one of the least subtle people ever. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ no subtlety, no shame.]

As for the cleaning spell, I've actually heard of one, but it takes a lot of time. A couple of days, maybe. [A pause for dramatic effect or some bullshit.] A dry cleaning place. [ /rimshot. WELL LOOK WHO THINKS THEY'RE FUNNY. At least she can joke at the situation.] Other than that, I'm more comfortable with my telekinesis and telepathy, so yeah I've essentially got nothing for this. [go team. also she never admits the telepathy part to people since that might make people extra uncomfortable, but if he's really been through circles of hell, he's likely Seen Some Shit and could handle not being too creeped out by telepathy.] Well. I could call my son and ask because he probably knows one and could put us to shame, but I'm pretty sure that explaining the whys of my need for one would put me well over my - very generous - daily embarrassment allowance that I give myself.

[True, true, she may be able to laugh at herself about this, but STILL. And, technically Billy is her other-universe son, from a universe sorta similar to her own, but one where she is a few years older than she is here and has two teenage-aged sons. But pft details ... he's part of her family here.]

[heckblazer]

[ Well, THIS conversation just got much more interesting. ]


Yer' powers -- natural, or some sorta curse? Either way, must admit me own jealousy. Mostly I just haggle with the spirits Beyond to borrow some of theirs. Got a bit of a reputation with 'em for it, though, since I usually outsmart 'em some way.

[ He should care that he's being sloppy, but doesn't. Great, John, great job. Although he DOES notice her mention of a son - it files away in his brain somewhere to use later. She looks young, but timelines are all bollocksed here, and it gets all the more confusing with anyone tied to occult or supernatural business.

But as an afterthought, he does sweep off his famed trenchcoat, offering it for her to cover her ruined clothes. Oh my, he is definitely being sloppy. ]

[divaricate]

[Jealous? And here she was going to say that his borrowing powers sounds cooler -- at least there you probably get more than a couple or so options to work with.]

That depends where you want to put 'human experimentation' and 'powers that come from actual alien artifacts'. [Even the sparsest details are still kind of depressing but oh god okay deep breath HERE GOES: ]

A scientist convinced a lot of citizens in the country I'm from that he could give us the power to fight back against the near-constant state of war in its borders, so we agreed to be experimented on, my twin brother and I were the only two survivors of that. He was able to run at superspeeds, so the exposure didn't have the same results in us. [Which might be one of the only interesting facts -- the same object having two different results in, yes, also two different people, but still two closely related people.

She puts on the offered coat with another quick smile.] Thanks. Again.

[heckblazer]

[ And there's the occupational hazard of socializing within the occult community - attempts at flirting swiftly turn into conversations about each other's tragic pasts. He exhales heavily at her. ]

My. And I thought it was a drag when Thatcher took all the jobs outta my neighborhood. Though it left me plenty o'time to dabble in spells and summoning.

[ On the tails of his fading cigarette he produces another from his pants pocket along with an engraved lighter. Rather than lifting the lighter to his lips, he mutters something in tongues and the flame flickers, disappearing from the zippo and igniting the end of his smoke. It's a little trick he's been practicing. HOPEFULLY him being that old isn't a deal-breaker. In his defense, he's had a few dings to his timeline from the occasions he's been tossed like a ragdoll through the multiverse. He hasn't made time to stop and ponder what his current age is. ]

maurtia falls

[brushoff]

[ Dorian had been scoping out the bar as a potential gig location but lo and behold, it's another foreigner! Oh British, how did you get yourself caught up in this mess. What had been chatting up the bartender about booking the bar for a gig has turned into Dorian sitting at the bar, gin and tonic in hand, watching as Constantine attemps his way through the Cure.

He can't help but appreciate the music. Dorian's always had a soft spot for the 1980s. However, he is an asshole, so as soon as John finishes and there's polite applause, Dorian yells out, ]

Play 'Free Bird'!

[ he is going to get something thrown at his head. ]

[heckblazer]

[ Just because you're mates doesn't mean he isn't going to lineface at you for a solid minute, Dorian. But then he downs his drink - he starts to feel a tingle now - and decides to get even, instead of mad. He leans into the mic, playing up his Northern accent just to amuse the locals: ]


Dorian, mate. Are yeh more a Freddie Mercury or a Mick Jagger type? Just wonderin'.

[brushoff]

Adam Ant, [ Dorian answers, with a smug grin, deliberately aware he's being a shit. But then again, they're in a bar and John is much more drunk than Dorian is, so after a moment's pause, he actually gives an answer. ]

If I've got to pick from the two, Freddie Mercury. I'm more style over substance and the man certainly had style.

[heckblazer]

[ John just

grins

and then starts playing the guitar again, picking up the rhythmn to a song Dorian might recognize, somehow making it work on the cruddy little acoustic piece he's wrestling with. ]

Good. Then I'll take the Bowie parts.

[ He repeats the opening bars, waiting, not breaking eye contact. ]

[brushoff]

[ Dorian can't help but laugh, grinning madly as he recognizes the song. Because come on. Shitty little acoustic guitar or not, you could recognize that opening bass in a heartbeat.

He makes his way to the stage, grinning still as he climbs on up and, ever the showman, deliberately winks at some girl in the audience. ]

Oooh, if we had a piano, then I'd plunk out some chords and we'd sound marginally better.

[ There's a pause before Dorian counts himself in and starts singing. And surprise! He actually has a really good singing voice! Buddy was in a band in canon, Dorian can carry a tune pretty well. ]

[heckblazer]

[ The good news is that John was in a band as well. The bad news is that it was a terrible punk band where vocal ability wasn't really a concern.

it takes him approximately halfway through the song to get on key, but he gets there. his...enthusiasm? at least sort of makes up for it. ]

[brushoff]

[ Dorian's band was mod. You kind of have to be able to sing if you're doing mod harmonies.

And man, considering that Dorian's the better singer, less drunk, and prettier of the two, he knows that he is 100% carrying this performance. But who cares! The two are obviously having fun, Dorian's having a blast, and if this gets uploaded to the Internet or what have you, he at least knows that he'll come out of this looking halfway decent. ]

[heckblazer]

[ There is, once in a blue moon, a moment where John feels actually happy,free of the worry that the other shoe will drop and everything will go to hell. He will never actually TELL Dorian this, but it's a good moment all the same.

He laughs as he wraps up the bass line of the song, bar-goers laughing along and the applause growing slightly louder. He leans back towards his mate: ]

C'mon, now you pick one.