#johnnyxconstantine

OooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo OOohhhhhh

I thought I smelled you.

@johnnyxconstantine from here.

Constantine had his hands in nearly every pot of magic and theories. A laundry list of ways to exercise demons, angels, and spirits. He could gloat on for hours at a nearby bar about how damned lucky he is.

He is a selfish prick and he knows it. For all the thousand lives that are saved, a handful still die. He’s damned his fair share of friends, burned bridges, and slandered his own name. He’s cheated, lied, and manipulated those around him to achieve a means to an end. He’ll never deny any of the negative aspects that are carried with his name.

Unfair advantage considering he barely knew a thing about her. He really needed to stop handing out his cards. He didn’t plan on sticking around her for very long.

“I don’t put much faith in my memories. I’ve bet my memories away at damned card game once or twice. I do, however, have plenty of stories.”

A little smirk played at Evelyn’s lips as she regarded Constantine. “I’ll just bet you do.” She could only imagine the sorts of things he encountered on a day-to-day basis. It had been readily apparent, even on the day they had met, that he was accustomed to the weird and the terrifying.

Of course, she wasn’t exactly innocent to that world herself. She’d seen a few things in her life, and she’d taken care to gain as much distance from some of them as she was capable. Not that it would make much of a difference on the day that they decided to come for her. 

She tried not to think about it overmuch. That would just lead to endless cycles of ennui, and that wouldn’t help anyone. Fatalistic, maybe, but she held no illusions about her own power in relation to the people who claimed ownership over her. Just because she could shift her awareness into another body and go on fleeting trips through the cosmos didn’t mean she could actually do much. And her everyday body, the body she wore around town, the body she currently inhabited while sitting at a bar next to a man claiming to be an exorcist and master of the dark arts? It was downright frail sometimes. A harsh truth, and a truth she tried to keep to herself, but truth nonetheless.

“I’m fine, John. It’s just been a long day.” 

Evelyn hadn’t known the Englishman for very long, and wasn’t one to openly share her woes. A certain wariness still informed her interactions with Constantine, a careful observation of his mannerisms, words, and actions. There was a sort of deceptively casual, even caustic wiliness about his usual demeanor that set her on edge, but then again, she had seen him take a stand against a supernatural threat that would have killed everybody in the vicinity, rather than running away to save his own skin. His methods were maybe unconventional, but they got the job done. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

Vidal raised an eyebrow. Wondered if guys who smelled like burnt tobacco and stale bathroom smoke were common for street magicians or if this was some kind of scam.

  That isn’t wrong.   He doesn’t just look like hell he feels like hell he IS hell..

  Why does he care?

A moment is spent trying to sift through his head for the right way to answer, and a low rumble starts in his throat, not sure whether to trust any new strangers at all.  A step is taken back as he settles on a single word.

“Y-yyeah..”

Then one more.

But that’s not a thing he can do right now, he’s not even home. In fact here he is in a parking lot just trying to buy groceries so he can go home, make some dinner, eat, and then go to sleep like nothing even happened over the past month. Because fuck Lady Luck, she’d rather shove a stake up Logan’s ass.

But here he is now, trying to wrestle some red-eyed fangy asshole just because Logan wanted to put the stupid groceries in his truck and he just happened to part at the end of the parking lot where it’s dark and most people are too far to help him.]