#constantine rp

@big-blue-of-tomorrow / @gothamcitypolice / @batgirlspain / @lildickiebird / @the-new-bat / @babs-gordon-offical / @redhoodisalive / @big-spooky-bat / @the-last-laughing-magician / @tonystark-ingotham please deal with this Gotham demon. We are but a news outlet.

Late 20s to Early 30s

He/Him | They/Them | It [ now be careful love with that one, I don't bite unless it's consented to, but I can be a nasty bugger ]

Bisexual. As he'd put it: “Society should not be allowed to dictate the rules of how one lives life. Or who one loves. I am capable of caring for [anyone I choose]. Just as I have cared for women I have known, [...] I have cared for some men, [both] whom I have known intimately." (yes, this is straight up lifted from Benedict Bridgerton's declaration of his sexuality to Sophie).

— Background —

Son of Lord and Lady Constantine, John Constantine was orphaned at a young age when his parents were hanged for treason. Stripped of his title, he was forced to live in poverty.

When he turned 13, his Constantine heritage caught up with him.

Usually older kids did not get adopted at the orphanage. Everybody knew that. So when an old man, claiming to be a foreign Count showed up for him specifically, John had the common sense to be scared. Especially since the old man had insisted for all direct meetings and transactions to take place at night. The amount of money he 'gifted' the orphanage certainly smoothed all the difficulties they could encounter working around his peculiar clock and within 2 weeks, John was officially adopted and to travel with his new guardian. The man had rather unusual arrangements for the trip, telling John of them during their sole shared dinner, though John was really the only one eating whilst the other looked on, ravenous but with no food in front of him. But honestly, John was fine with actually not travelling in the same carriage as the man, loneliness hardly new to him and the other's presence particularly uncomfortable. The whole thing was odd, a bit surreal and something kept nagging at John, so he felt constantly on guard, used to light sleep anyway following his time at the orphanage. Eventually they made it to Transylvania where the Count was from and dinner in his castle was the first time John laid eyes on him since they left London. Dinner was a quiet affair, but John ended up cutting his hand while working on an apple, nothing deep, just a superficial prick of the blade against his palm, but that agitated the Count. Not remembering how he ended up where he did, John eventually woke up the following day in his new bedroom, it felt off but nothing seemed amiss or different, except that the small wound of the knife had been, for some reason, heavily bandaged. Doubt and disbelief led John to remove the bandage and find, not the small mark of the tip of the blade on the palm of his hand but rather odd bite marks both in the palm and on the back of his hand. John remembered none of it happening so he had a bout of panic before he put himself together and went seeking for answers. He found no one in the castle, but being a clever boy, he kept looking, and it felt as though he was drawn to the underbelly of the place. Eventually, John ended up in a crypt where he found the Count asleep in a coffin, naked and decayed. Suddenly the creature awakened and started to pursue him throughout the castle, telling him that the Constantine heir oughta be his, as foretold, for he should live longer than normal men and his blood be more powerful than the one of mere mortals.

John eventually managed to flee in the heart of winter, without coat or horse, running through the forest during the day and walking as night fell and made his progression more difficult. He refused to stop before making it to a hamlet of sorts. Eventually he managed to stumble upon a group of Roma people who saw a cold and frightened kid and welcomed him, bringing him to warmth and offering him food. When he reached for the bowl of soup offered though, they saw the vampire bite on his hand and told him he'd been marked by the devil. They brought him in front of their most skilled forture-teller. She read his fate and fell into transe, revealing him his origins and his hidden powers with the voice of his mother.

“Remember Johnny: Nil desperandum auspice Deo. Fiat Lux. Always remember.”

Shaken after the discoveries, John retired to rest and slept more deeply and soundly than he had in years. Eventually, the cold got to him and John woke up. Alone. The hamlet had been deserted. But they'd left him warm clothes, breakfast and some wood. John sas grateful, though lost. He decided he needed some time to think and plan, having no idea where the nearest village or city was and knowing the Count's castle couldn't be far enough. He went on to explore his surroundings and cut some woods, under the watchful eye of a crow. When night came, John locked himself inside a house and ate the one small fish he managed to catch. When the wooden door was blown up, John picked up a hatchet and set up to fight, to easily be disarmed and thrown across the room. Seconds later the older, larger, man, vampire really, laid above him, fangs extended. "Fi-fiat lux." John whispered out, half-panicked and watched as the palm of his hand bitten hand lit up, blinding the older man. John kicked him off of him and repeated the words, louder, stronger, bolder and blinded the both of them with the strength of the spell, even burning some skin off of the other who laid there wailing in pain. John ran out and got on the horse the Count had brought with him, putting as much distance as possible between him and the vampire.

After those events, John dedicated himself to learning how to use his powers, to protect himself first but also to protect others. So that they may not be preyed on as he was.

— Housekeeping —

- This blog is rated 16+ by default.

- MUN is over 21.

- Mostly literate (multiple paras) but I am totally open to the sillier less pressure inducing short-form roleplays too! We can vibe! And you can totally spam my ask box!

- Content warnings: Smoking | Mild Alcoholism | Swearing | Flirtiness/Suggestiveness | Mental Health Issues | Violence | Likely Detailed Descriptions involving Blood & Death | Mentions of Childhood Abuse | Potentially Mild Horror | (I will always tag all particularly relevant posts appropriately too)

- Quick rules recap: No godmodding | No incest of any sort | No NSFW interaction without prior interaction and plot discussion and definitely not with an ageless or minor blog. | Canon DC characters and crossovers are welcomed to interact. So are OCs.

— Navigation Tools —

— ✨ basic tags: #didIhearsumthin? ⇢ asks | #inkedthoughts ⇢ random thoughts | #let lips do what hands do ⇢ quote from Romeo and Juliet for any romance/flirt related content

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— ✨ file with further lore details | #lore file 📖

-> Newcastle happened as presented in Hellblazer comics

-> Mucous Membrane happened, and he remembers it fondly as the time before it all went to shit

-> He never married Epiphany because we’re avoiding that problematic character assassination, but he’s aware of who she is

-> Rosacarnis did her thing, but he doesn’t consider those children his since they were born of his assault and more demon than human

-> Noah is canon, and John is protective of him

-> Is technically living dead/resurrected per the ambiguous ending of Dead In America

-> has had a past relationship with Zatanna/forever has a soft spot for her, but Justice League Dark never happened for him (either run,) he’s just heard about it through multiverse shenanigans

-> Knows most of the Bat family’s secret identities, but never divulges them to anyone out of respect for Bruce (and maybe a bit of a crush on the man.)

"Miss Feig? Mara? Mara Feig?"

Mara's eyebrows creased as she exited the convenience store, a hand instinctively moving across her body to cover her ribs. "Whose asking?" The woman let out, her grip around her grocery bag tightening. Metropolis had always been so much safer at night than Gotham that she'd never really been afraid to get snacks late night before. Cautious, certainly. She was still a woman. Black at that. She knew that at best her disappearance would be considered statistics unless her father somehow intervened.

"Ah, I'm sorry Miss Feig, I don't mean to frighten you."

Mara chuckled. "Says the man appearing to me in the middle of the night cloaked in darkness, my name in his mouth."

The male chuckled. "Ah yes, you have a certain way with words, Miss Feig."

"That was just an assessment but thank you. I still don't know your name and have not quite gotten a good look at your face. So unless you are about to tell me your name and offer some ID to back up that claim, and a good reason as to why you're waiting on me, I don't think I will be budging from in front of this convenience store."

"It's about John Constantine."

"What about John?" Mara asked, a tinge of concern colouring her words.

"Mr Constantine was recently found dead in a warehouse in Florida." The man declared, seemingly unbothered as he held up a picture between his index and middle finger. "Let's just say my organisation, had a hand in his current state."

Mara swallowed thickly. "And so? What do you want from me?" The journalist forced out, trying to seem calmer than she felt. "Because if you think John told me anything of importance about his magic or his finances, you have got our relationship very very wrong I'm afraid."

The man chuckled. "No, Miss Feig. See, you, are bait."

"Excuse me? Bait for whom? He's dead."

"Details. Also not quite. But as you said, you don't know magic, do you? Not that it matters since it's not for him."

"Hum if the goal is to get to Superman, then you got the wrong newspaper. I'm not from the Daily Planet."

"Oh Miss Feig, you underestimate how much people care about you. Where does this lack of self-confidence come from? We didn't get the wrong person, you are the right one. Also, we're not aiming for Superman. No. We're going for someone a bit more... magical." The man declared and winked. "Now I know you're going through different scenarios in your head, like, do I try to run? With the recent surgery that'd be hard. Do I go back inside the store? Decent attempt. But then, you'd be endangering other people and that's just not your style. And in case you doubted it, yes, I would kill everyone in that store just to get to you." Mara blinked, eyes wet. "Oh, oh no no, tut tut," The male wiped away Mara's first stray tear. "I don't want to hurt you Miss Feig. I'm not here to kill you. If you do just as I say, by tomorrow morning, you'll be a free woman. And that's a promise."

"Since your words mean so much to me..."

The man laughed. "You're a funny woman. I like that. So shall we get going then? Here," He reached out for her grocery bag. "I'll help. My car's parked nearby anyway. Come on, Miss Feig."

Resigned, Mara walked besides the man, putting distance between them and the mom and pop convenience store, the dread creating a growing pit in her stomach. Her bad feeling about the whole situation was confirmed about 5 minutes later, when a soaked piece of fabric was pressed against her face and she lost consciousness before she could even see the car whose trunk she'd end up tossed in.

"Wakey wakey, Miss Feig." Mara groaned hands instinctively moving to cover her face as the sun hit her face. "Had a good sleep?" The man inquired as he roughly lifted the woman out of the car with unexpected strength, holding her by the middle under a single arm. "If I let you down, will you run off?"

"Potentially." Mara admitted.

The man laughed. "I love the way you speak. Here." Mara was handed over to another bigger man. "Miss Feig, meet Helmut. Yeah, we can't have you running off now. I hope you understand."

"Hi Helmut, just so you know, your colleague here told me your name but I don't know his so if you want to even thing out, I'm listening." Mara declared as she was held by the other man, who walked side by side with her first abductor. The bigger man seemed to smile while the other outwardly laughed. "I know I'm hilarious. There's more where that come from if you set me free." The two men just kept on laughing as they headed inside an abandoned building of Fawcett City, in an apparently just as abandoned neighborhood since the two men could walk with a woman obviously captive in broad daylight without raising any alarm. Weird, if you asked the journalist, but okay.

"There we are." The man announced as they reached a now-defunct psychiatric facility.

"Really? Ain't that a bit cliché?" Mara couldn't help but ask, as she was finally back on her own feet, as the doors were magically locked behind them and darkness filled the place.

"A bit, certainly." The man who'd first approached her admitted. "Now if you don't mind," He gestured in front of him. "right this way Miss Feig." Rolling her eyes, Mara obeyed. What else was there to do at this point anyway?

Soon enough they stood in an old office, old forgotten files littering the floor as if they'd flown out of the boxes they'd been put in. Curious more than anything, Mara picks up the first file she sees, opening it to reveal an illustration of trephination. "Oh." Mara closed it back. "Fuck."

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you." The man spoke. "Now if you don't mind sitting down." He gestured to an old ripped leather chair. Mara sighed but obeyed. "Good girl."

"Fuck you." She replied. "So what do you expect from me?"

"Simple. Three words. You say them, you're free." Mara rose an eyebrow. "It really is that simple, I swear. You just have to yell 'Shazam please help' and you can walk out. We haven't hurt you so far, have we?" Mara's eyebrows creased as her expression clearly expressed doubt. "Well, we drugged you and threatened you but physically you're not worse off, truly. Are you?"

"I don't know. Let's wait a minute for the trauma to truly take. How about that?"

"Just say the words Miss Feig. Don't make me make you."

"Why?"

"That's the thing with you media people, you always want the story." The man sighed, and held his palm out and up, a forgotten rusty scalpel suddenly drawn to it as though his limb had any magnetic properties. "Come on Miss Feig, you wouldn't want me to use that, and I wouldn't want to use it either. Normally this part of the job is Helmut's but with your recent surgery we didn't want to take any risks and actually kill you." The man explained before blowing on the medical tool, making it seem brand new before he walked towards a quiet Mara. "Here." He handed the blade to her. "You decide now. Your fate is all in your hands."

"I'm not about to sta—ah." Mara gasped, eyes widening in shock and pain as her own hand dug the scalpel deeper into her stomach.

"So? Feeling more inclined to ask for help?"

"To watch you kill someone else? Not exactly. You said it yourself, you don't want me to die."

"Ah but you, want yourself to die then?" The man inquired, and in spite of how much Mara fought to keep the blade in and slow down the blood loss, her own second hand covered the first and started to pull at the grip she firmly held on the blade, withdrawing the scalpel from the wound. "Shazam. Help. Please." The man mimicked.

"Why?" Mara repeated, eyes filling with tears as she threw the scalpel away.

"If you really want to know, just say the words. And it will become very very clear."

"You want me to help you kill a superhero? Hope for a city?" Mara chuckled. "You really don't know me, do you?"

"Oh but we do." The man lifted a finger up and the scalpel was floating again, except it wasn't headed for Mara, it was headed for the man's hand, where he now held the picture of John he'd showed her earlier, and ended up carving a careful circular hole in his forehead. By the time the picture was held in front of Mara's face though, it no longer was John's body but her own Mother's. "You love people. You really care for them. Strangers. And your people alike. So if you don't want your dear old mother, who is waiting for you to come home so she can take care of you now that you're out of the hospital to end up like John, or well, deader, you'll say the words and you'll walk out and save yourself."

Mara swallowed. "Shazam. Please. Help?" She let out softly, voice trembling as her eyes filled with tears.

"Louder."

"Shazam! Please! Help!"

"LOUDER!"

"SHAZAM! PLEASE HELP!

"Use his real title!"

"CAPTAIN MARVEL PLEASE HELP!"

"Now you sound scared. Attagirl. Again!"

"CAPTAIN MARVEL PLEASE HELP!"

Mara didn't notice it, but she yelled yet again, the men made their exit from the room, headed out of the building, really. Their task now completed.