didn't know there was anything in the world to be frightened of; {OPEN}

[heckblazer]

WHO: John Constantine, You, Other People
WHERE: Various locations in prompts!
WHEN: Early April
WHAT: John trolling around town
WARNINGS: Depression, substance abuse, swear words, will tag others as needed



I - Heropa - your friendly neighborhood occult con artist



[ Weird thing about old folks is how gladly they part with their money.

Half an hour ago, John was contenting himself to sit in a park and waste the hours chainsmoking and translating a grimoire from Aramaic. Until he got accosted by a sorrowful-looking gentleman in a cashmere sweater and pressed pants, droning on about missing his late wife and imploring John's gifts. He sighed, reminding himself how small this stupid little world was that a stranger could know his reputation. However, since alcohol and food tended to cost money, he goes along with it.

He made a show out of collecting leaves, burning them with his cigarette while the old man clutched his hand, all the while John comes up with nonsense that sounds vaguely like a spell. ]

Siht si a daol fo tihsllub i edam pu ouy evah on aedi tahw m'i gniyas od uoy ssabmud. Right, mate, check back in twenty-four hours. Sometimes the other side is a little slow on the uptake.


II - Maurtia Falls - John's typical brooding and boozing



[ Having done exactly one productive, functional thing today, John sits his ass down at the bar at Hotel Castille and helps himself to some vodka shots. He came by town to check in with the usual local lads who did tech crew for the shows he managed. Although the hotel was a venue that gave even the tougher men amongst them the shudders, they were easy enough to talk into the gig with a combination of John's charm, a cut of the profits, and by showing off some of Zatanna's headshots. Saps couldn't resist the idea of a pretty girl doing an old-fashioned magic show. And besides, a little bit of taking on gigs from Constantine meant they could get a job anywhere they wanted within another year or so.

With business out of the way, he plops down on the same barstool he occupied on Christmas Eve, choosing the same vodka he'd enjoyed with Dorian from that night. Is he trying to cleanse his angst that his mate is gone, having died horribly? Or is he trying to wallow in it again? Given that it is John, probably both.

Fancy a drink and keeping this sadsack company? ]

III - de Chima - getting lost in town because he needs to get the hell away from his assigned house sometimes



[ This city isn't really his favorite place, but he'll visit for the sake of others in the little imPort crowd that he happens to actually like. John is sure he'll remember which ones soon enough, or what he came through the bloody porter for in the first place anyway. Could it be that age is creeping up on him, all the booze and drugs taking their toll and reminding him that he is, like it or not, a mortal man?

Sure, not that he'd admit it.

He doesn't realize it at first, but he keeps wandering down residential streets, eyeballing the facades of homes, both imPort-assigned and locals. It starts as avoiding anywhere that employs anyone he's close to - lord knows he doesn't need the headache of being followed and questioned by more curious locals. When he catches himself at his little househunting game half an hour later, at least he realizes what he's doing. ]

Oi. Maybe it's time I got the hell outta Florida.

Comments

2

[slightlyoffchilt]

[Chilton wasn't a stranger to the Castile; his good friend James Patrick March owned the place, after all, and he lived in the same city. Chilton was prone to little visits in his spare time, reminders that he was still a good, attentive pal. He was on his way out when -- by sheer fortune -- he glanced towards the enclosure of the bar.

There was a lonely man on a bar stool, and he seemed vaguely familiar. A quick glance at his golden wristwatch informed Chilton that yes, he had the time and no, it wasn't too early for a drink.

But then again, it was never too early for a drink.]

Hello. [Chilton took the stool to Constantine's left.]

[heckblazer]

[ There is a bit of shiver down John's spine as the walking suit takes a seat - nothing personal, but he's discinclined to trust most psychiatric professionals, even with the casual airs that Chilton tended to carry himself with. Still, he nods and slides over the bottle and a spare shot glass. Gentlemen should never drink alone, or sone much nonsense like that. ]

Hullo. You the brain from the loony ward, right?

[slightlyoffchilt]

[The phrasing earned a doubletake.] Not quite the language I'd use, but sure. [Any potential indignation had been preemptively soothed by the indicated bottle and offered spare shot. Chilton didn't need to be persuaded into a drink.]

And you are the Hierophant, unless I am mistaken.

[A little nickname to indicate that Persephone had mentioned John Constantine once or twice to Chilton. But that had been some time ago, and the doctor wasn't necessarily up to date on the latest changes.]

Business here? Or are you staying at the Castile?

[heckblazer]

[ In that John has been locked up in such institutions before, he prefers to call them whatever the hell he feels like. Not that he feels like sharing that. He shrugs in a vaguely-cordial manner all the same. ]

I am. Though rather disappointed the girl didn't go with The Magician or Fool. Those seem more me, y'know?

[ Then again, the girl's pride probably wouldn't allow her to place him before The High Priestess, her favoured of the arcana. He recalled the Doc borrowing her for some sort of exposure therapy session, to which John hadn't pried further. Patient confidentiality, or maybe just taking the opportunities he could get to manufacture distance and convince himself he didn't care what happened to her. ]

And the first one, as it happens. I've been obliged into managing more talent lately an' the ballroom here rather works for our, ah - idiom. You a fan of magic shows, mate?

1

[timecapture]

[Max had been doing her usual, snapping photos and occasionally using her rewind powers to help tiny animals not get squished. Hey, she felt badly for squirrels that ran into the street, okay? But when she sees John, she trots over to him, smiling.]

Hey! What are you doing?

[He looked like he was casting, but what?]

[heckblazer]

[ On the bright side, the elderly man is long on his way by the time Max arrives on the scene, so he's glad to drop the act. As much as she's seen John cast real and much nastier spells before, he's all too happy to keep someone like her at a distance from his...practices. Just like in the way he completely failed to do with his niece back home. But by all accounts, Max was too nice for blood-soaked and moonlit rituals. Last thing he felt like doing was sending more mates following Dorian back through the porter and to the afterlife.

He unrolls his sleeves and greets Max with a coy smirk. ]

Nothin' special, love. Just call it a bit o' April Fool's fun.

[timecapture]

April Fools, huh?

[She liked harmless pranks, occasionally - and far be it from her to complain after what she'd done to Victoria back at her old school.]

Like what?

[Sorry, John. You got the nosy one.]

[heckblazer]

[ John shrugs nonchalantly. ]

Some geezer thought it'd be a good idea to contact his wife's spirit. I figured it'd be a good idea to hold onto his generous donation so that I can forward it to a liquor store.

[ It's harmless for John's standards, at least. ]

II

[stretchy_girl]

[It was nearly a month since Gemini had arrived in Maurtia Falls, and in that time she'd put her ears to the ground, observing the local criminal scene in a variety of different forms, finding out what the criminal underworld was up to.

Which is what has brought her to the Hotel Castille, a distinctly shady establishment in a rough area where a number of mobsters were known to hang out. Her form's one that she's used before, an attractive blonde hooker in too much makeup and revealing clothing, bait for the criminals who hung out here to boast to impress. On a normal evening Gemini could learn a lot, but so far tonight few fish had arrived and she'd been content to sit in a corner nursing a drink, until the arrival of a certain stranger caught her eye.

Where had she seen this man before? Certainly never in person she was sure, but somewhere, perhaps from her own world. It tickled annoyingly at the edges of her memory, so much so that after a few minutes of staring, she gets up and makes her way over to the stool next to the stranger, settling herself down on it and giving him what passed for this face's sultry smile.]

Hey, you look like you do with some company.

[heckblazer]

[ Hello, nurse.

She looks damned good - almost too much so. It does put ticks of warning in John's brain even with how glad he feels for company, especially anyone so easy on the eyes. Still, her whole looks comes together as being a little on the nose - not much left to the imagination, and very clearly meant to ensnare the more-money-than-brains mob lackeys who liked to come around the neighborhood. The kind of blokes that usually lost to John at poker, he mused.

Still, he'd hardly turn down such a nice approach. ]

So do you, actually. Funny coincidence.

[stretchy_girl]

[John does look a lot like the lackeys that come through here, and Gemini hopes to ensnare him just as easily. While she might have pressed the beauty button a little too hard, she's adapted the face to show the stresses of hard living.

The voice she's adopted is clearly the worse for years of cigarettes and booze and her clothing is far from expensive, but serves a purpose, as what red-blooded man could ignoring the way her boobs swell up from her corset every time she breathes?]

I have been a little lonely lately...say are you British? Like genuinely?

[heckblazer]

[ Definitely not a succubus, he muses. She looks too... real for that. Still, she might make a useful ally, and he wasn't entirely against seeing where all this ended up. Just not before doing his usual John thing of finding the angle and working it.

Nothing can ever be simple, right?

He does chuckle at her question and forces himself into a terrible, cartoonish attempt at a southern-American accent. It probably pains her to hear it as much as it does for him to do it. ]

Why, course not, y'all. I came right from Nebraska where I was raised by John Wayne an' Johnnie Walker. Didja know my cousin is a bale of hay?

1.

[foreshadower]

[ Really, if all it took was some burning leaves and a little incantation to wake the dead, then perhaps this would be worth the money the old man is likely getting scammed out of. Shade, for all his villainy, is certainly not the person to rip off little old fellows looking to find their now-dead wife. Tragic, really, that he would.

Then again, it's John Constantine.

Which is why Shade is perfectly willing to mess this up in some way. Instead of striding up from his position down the road, he instead let the shadows behind the old man congeal and deepen, before he slid out from it, a smooth, eerie motion, which left the man screaming and peeling back.

Maybe gave him a heart attack. Well, at least he'd see his wife that way. ]

Does that sort of nonsense even work? [ He asked, as if it was nothing. As if he and John Constantine were old friends, instead of not-even acquaintances. Well, it's not Shade's fault the man avoided Opal. ]

[heckblazer]

[ For a moment, John wants to be chagrined. Bloody immortal drama queen encroaching on a perfectly good con. But then the old bloke squawks in terror and shuffles off in a hurry, and it thaws his heart just in the slightest.

Given how cramped the corners of the occult community can be, and the amount of unsue space in it John tends to take up, he takes little offense to the familiarity, either. ]

In me own defense, mate, he approached me. I just didn't feel up to the legwork. 'Sides, even you weren't above spooking 'em.

[foreshadower]

Ah, but I'm a supervillain, remember?

[ Shade uses the excuse perhaps too frequently for his own good. The kind of person that's actually a hero, but uses the word to pretend like he's still one of the cool kids. He even held a hand to his chest, like that was an affront to even call him out on that. ]

Besides, if you want the man's money, there are better ways to go about it. And I don't necessarily mean stealing. [ A pause, and he considered, even so. Like he was trying to come up with the reason for why John was going through the whole thing. He honestly didn't get it. ]

Do you enjoy conning them?

[heckblazer]

Do I-- [ A short, barking laugh. His demeanor is his usual brash bluntness, much in contrast to the sophistication before him. ] You don't know me too well, do ya? Besides, I'm practically doin' 'em a favour. Keeps 'em well away from the kinda world I live in. S'hardly pleasant. Bloke like that wouldn't last a day if he was really allowed to dabble.

[ The semi-noble-sounding attempts at gatekeeping may be genuine, or it could just be John talking shit to sound impressive. Or it could be both. It's impossible to tell with him, and he's barely got it figured it out himself. ]

1;

[itssacrifice]

[As fine a city as Nonah is, there are times when Andrew feels the need to stretch his legs and relocate for a little bit. Today he finds himself in Heropa wandering around the park. It's almost funny how often he finds himself in a park these days, but they're a nice reprieve from the traffic and clog of the city.

He sees two men sitting on a bench ahead of him, and he fully intends to just walk by, until he hears the topic of the conversation. Something about a dead wife, magic, and resurrection. Curiosity peaked, he stops at a nearby tree and leans against it, far enough away not to raise any immediate suspicion.

When the blond man starts in with his "spell" he bites his lip to hold in a laugh. While not a magic user himself, he's witnessed enough magic to know that when spells activate there's usually a...life to them. Something more than just nonsensical words. Especially the kind of magic that is supposed to raise the dead.

Andrew waits for the other man to leave before approaching and flopping down into his vacant seat.]

You know, I think that's the most bullshit I've ever heard come out of someone's mouth at one time.

[heckblazer]

Thanks, I suppose. But that was pretty well on the shallow end of the bullshit pool for me.

[ Aside from the buddy-buddy attitude and physique that give John immediate 'superhero' vibes, his new companion seems like not an entire pain in the ass. Not so bad to look at, either. He relaxes on the bench, letting his slight form take up a bit more bench space with a comfortable slouch, legs outstretched in front of him and arms hooked around the back of the seat. ]

[itssacrifice]

[He chuckles at that, not doubting the man's words one bit. The ease at which he had played that man indicates a level of skill that comes with practice. But as he neither harmed the man nor practiced any dark-raise-the-dead-magic, Andrew doesn't hold the lying against him.]

I get the feeling that pool is probably deeper than the ocean. But I have to admit, it was very effective. He probably thought you were invoking the gods of the underworld in an ancient language.

[He relaxes back against the bench, getting comfortable.]

Are you propositioned often by people hoping to resurrect their dead loved ones?

2

[h2no]

[have a nice quiet night? bollocks will he. typical bar stuff goes on for a while, including archie getting shoved hard into the bar near where john's sitting. two very angry (and weirdly eloquent) gentlemen stand before him.]

Shit! [he squawks, straightening himself up. archie's a lot shorter than these two guys, so it's a little hard to be... intimidating.] I didn't sell ya wrong! This is a big misunderstandin'!

[he looks over to john, pleading look in his eyes. gosh, what could've gotten him in this dumpster fire of trouble?]

Mate! You look like the worldy sort. Tell 'em there ain't no thing as a Handbag Golden Retriever! I meant the Goldie was printed on it! Not an actual livin' thing!

[heckblazer]

[ Well.

At least it wasn't the weirdest barfight/scam/debate about animals and possibly luggage(?) that John had ever been dragged into. And being accosted by a pirate was... a first. After taking a moment to process what was going on and decide on an answer, John takes another pull from his glass and shrugs, albeit watching wearily in case he needed to intervene on behalf of the little guy. ]

It'd be feasible if you knew a taxidermist, innit?

[h2no]

[archie swears as he's rammed against the bar again.]

They wanted a living one, I think. Arceus, can you let me go? This is so fucking stupid!

For Sookie;

[heckblazer]

[ Bollocks. All he did was slip his stupid finger across the screen. He'd been trying to scroll through his bloody stupid device, looking for how to translate more ridiculous American slang he kept hearing - the way some of these teenagers talked sometimes, it was practically it's own demonic tongue.

But to make a long, sad tale of John's ineptitude with technology a short one, he'd swiped to accept a date without meaning to. (Once he figured out how to get rid of the program, he would. Not that he and Zee were exclusive by any means, but he hardly needed her sarcastic quips at what he kept on his device).

The problem was that he could have just ignored the little dings as the program arranged a time and locale for the date. But of all the highs he seeked, settling his own curiosity was usually the sweetest. Besides, it couldn't hurt to see the other person - and gauge whether he'd bail on them in their own rite. ]

finally here hi im the actual worst.

[wordaday]

[In her absolute defense, she downloaded the dating app in a very desperate moment of lonliness and also there may have been a glass of wine involved. Not that she makes it a habit to drink, but she's taken to actually buying a bottle once in a while since she arrived here. See, there's no one she knows to judge her in the grocery store, and wine is classy.

Except when it makes blind dates for you. Whoops.

Sook considers not showing up, but a better part of her overrides the impulse to stay at home and eat a frozen pizza. She knows she'd sure feel like crap if she got stood up, so keeping that in mind, she puts on her nicest dress (and her big girl pants) and marches her ass to the designated date spot. A cafe, thank the lord, though it's a little nicer than she'd ever pick. The waiter recognizes her almost instantly and about trips over himself to seat her in the most secluded, romantic table they've got.

Ooooooh, yay.]

[heckblazer]

[ Ugh, he could do without his stupid mobile continuing its nonsense jingling the closer he got to the location.

In attempting to turn the stupid thing off on his walk to the restaurant, he manages to take about twelve hideous photos on the front-facing camera, text a string of gibberish to half his contacts, and broadcast about 48 seconds of himself cursing and complaining before finally finding the option to silence the device.

Upon arrival, John feels immediately relieved that he remembered to shower and clean his suit earlier in the day. It made the staff look at him piteously, rather than with the smug amusement typical of hipster types. His ego could handle patronizing better than abject mockery, really.

Somewhat guarded, John flashes the screen of his mobile to the waiter to get assistance finding his table. Which is, of course, in a cozy candle-lit corner.

He recognizes the other half of this bad idea as one of the other imPorts, and he squints as he tries to recall where they've spoken, or if he's told her anything incriminating. ]

Well. This is a welcome break from being hassled by the capes and tights crew, I suppose.