maskormenacelogs | don't know what i want but i know how to get it; i wanna destroy the passerby

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don't know what i want but i know how to get it; i wanna destroy the passerby

WHO: John Constantine, some bad children, various bad adults, maybe you?
WHERE: Roundabouts various cities
WHEN: Early to mid-February
WHAT: John's February Super Fun Wow Catch-All Extravaganza
WARNINGS: To be tagged as necessary

((Tags in comments below. HIT ME UP IF YOU WANNA PLOT! I'm open for almost anything and would love to throw John at most of y'all.))

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[ Easier said than done. At least he tries to keep sounding light. Your mileage may vary on his success. ]

But it's fair game for you to tamper with my existence, s'that right?

[Ugh... They finally drop down to sit on the mattress, any lingering traces of the mask they always wear falling away.]

You're still alive. I'm dead. I'm over. And if I don't go back then there might never be an Inanna again. It's not a fair comparison.

D'you hear that? It's the sound of 'bout a hundred or so decent, average people's souls whizzing by to hell, ones that weren't beyond help, while you lot were busy makin' a pet project outta savin' John from himself.

[ He breathes deep, taking down the cigarette's length by half. A long exhale and it the smoke comes out dark and thick in front of him. ]

Some way to use borrowed time, I'd say.

I'm... I'm trying to help as many people as I can.

[There's an odd quality to their voice, almost a tremor. Helping people—helping as many people as they could was important to them. Were they really wasting their second chance here? And so what if they were? As long as they still reached out to more than just the pseduo-pantheon being built up...]

What's so wrong with wanting to focus on a few special cases too?

Edited 2017-02-13 05:50 (UTC)

[ There really isn't a gentle way to put it, so he just goes for it. ]

'Cuz there's people who deserve it more.

...I don't care.

[It's quiet, almost too quiet to make out clearly.]

[ The intake of breath is sharper this time, as if he's about to raise his voice or spiral into trauma, but it takes the other half of the cigarette with him as well as the butt. He sputters and chokes it back out, cursing, keeping himself just out of range of the love goddess' helpful, concerned touch. ]

Why. And I mean really.

[For once, Inanna doesn't seem very interested in reaching out for him. They've hunched in on themself, rubbing at their chin and the side of their face in an unsettled motion.]

Because... [Because why? There had to be a reason they'd said it. The obvious answer was that they cared about John more, but Inanna was sure that they couldn't get away with just insisting on that for the hundredth time in a row. But was there really anything else...?]

...Maybe I just want to be selfish. You and Persephone, Luci... More than anything else, I don't want to let any of you down. I don't want any of you to become a regret.

[ It sounds like a terrible, short-sighted reason to like John, with the kind of naivete only a 20-something metahuman could have. But he refrains from saying so lest it make Inanna weep again. That's hardly something he's equipped to deal with unless he's got pants on and half a solid meal in him. ]

Seems a little backwards for you to worry about letting me down, y'know. [ He sighs and lets a bit of honesty sneak through. ] Then again, here you are even after seein' my Greatest Hits.

You wouldn't be the first person I failed. There were...a lot... [So many people that Inanna had loved so much and been unable to help. Even Persephone—even though they had saved her, it didn't seem to have done her any real good half the time. She was so miserable, so much more entrenched in her despair than they'd ever seen her before coming here, and she was the one Inanna had managed to help.

..."Help".

They duck their head and fidget with a few stray threads on the mattress. (Probably making a mental note to get him a new one.)]

...I always thought that I wouldn't regret having any of my regrets. They were proof that I'd...that I'd really lived, but I... I don't want any of my regrets to be people. Not this time.

[ There's a surprising quietness and thoughtfulness to John as he replies, even mustering the courage to look back over at them. ]

Y'didn't fail me. Haven't. Hell, ya probably can't. Doin' to me worse than what I already do to myself isn't in you, 'nanna.

[Inanna's not so brave, keeping their gaze fixed on those loose threads they're playing with.]

If I just give up like you want, that's a failure.

[ You're a fucking idiot, John. When was the last time someone cared enough to go to war for you? Someone who was determined to keep your disgusting soul from being hurled to the ninth circle where it belongs and being eternally roasted? And you can't drop your empty sarcasm for more than two seconds?

Inanna looks for all the world like a kid who needs a hug. But John doesn’t trust himself enough to really touch them. Don't want the nice one to be tarnished any more quickly. Bad enough that they were dirtying themselves already by voluntarily being around him.

He starts into a second cigarette clumsily, managing to spot a stray match on the floor to light it with. ]

I... suppose I could complain less about yer' determination to fight the forces of hell over the lease on my soul.

[Finally they look up at him, managing an echo of a smile. It's not sad, exactly. Maybe guilty? It's hard to feel relief for progress that they've only earned by practically begging for it.]

I must really sound pathetic if you're agreeing to that.

[ A snort. One nice thing about companionship with John is that he'll always be the most pathetic mess in the room. ]

Wouldn't worry about it. You have me as your basis for comparison, mind. So ya sound fine.

[Inanna lets out a sighing breath, almost a laugh, and lays back on the mattress with their arms tucked under their head.]

That doesn't mean I'm not pathetic.

Yer' not. Not that many deities I put up with or even like, y'know.

[ Comforting words are not his forte, so instead he nudges his half-finished bottle from his binging last night closer to them. ]

I'm still just a ghost.

[It's a nice gesture. One that Inanna eyes for a long moment before finally reaching for the bottle with a sigh.]

Got badgered by ghosts a fair bit where I'm from. [ It should go without saying how many of them are people from those flashbacks Inanna saw. ] Yer' not one of 'em.

I'm a friendly ghost. Like Casper, but sexy.

[Sure hope John didn't want any more of this bottle, because Inanna is starting with a hearty gulp. It probably won't last long.]

Sounds like a rubbish Halloween costume. Doesn't do you justice at all, mate.

[ Its around now that John becomes aware of the trap he's been put in. They're trying to get him to be nice, aren't they? Bloody hell. He exhales more smoke with an exhausted sigh; ]

Yer' really makin' me go off-brand here, y'know. M'supposed to be a bastard.

You do know you can be a bastard who's nice sometimes, right? Consider me your exception.

[ At least now there's only mild irritation on his face rather than wavering on the brink of a panic attack. ]

Sure. Just never call yourself a sexy ghost again.

Well...since you asked so nicely.

[They take another gulp from the bottle and, after a moment's thought, offers it back to John.]

What should I call myself instead?

[ There's a moment where John almost doesn't take it. But dealing with Inanna does require a certain amount of nerve sometimes. ]

Aren't you already a deity? If it's not broke...

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