#⭐john constantine || i'm a nasty piece of work chief - ask anybody [v. main]

[starsinshadows]

continued from here with @masterwcrk.

there’s a long pause as she looks over to the other & really studies him. on some level she knows he’s right - she’s long since learned that when someone tells you who they are, you believe them & yet it’s... surprisingly difficult with him because she sees the shadows & differences that he seems blind to. maybe it’s the last embers of her hope & optimism that hadn’t died on the Burren, maybe it’s foolishness. she hasn’t decided & it doesn’t feel important enough yet for her to truly make the distinction.

the tang of gin has permeated the entire room - that’s definitely enhanced because of her runes playing with all of her senses. she fights the urge to fling a window open because everything feels like poking a bear & she’d rather not antagonize him further tonight. ‘ they more than deserve it, but don’t drop down to their level and be sloppy. ’ people are getting caught in the crosshairs on this one, & she’d told herself she wouldn’t get involved but--

she has to learn to stop getting attached.

‘ make them feel it. ’

He couldn't have said what he honestly expected her to do when his anger sat heavy in the air between them along with the reek of gin and a flat that had seen better days. That part wasn't his fault this time - he'd been out of country and a friend had apparently decided to squat in his shitty little place while he was gone. It wasn't like he had many of those left, so who was he to throw stones? Well, he was John Constantine and throwing stones was a specialty of his sometimes, so perhaps that wasn't the best turn of phrase. There was something about glass houses, as well, but there was also an argument for how he had a rough enough go of it without someone else grabbing onto his ankles and dragging him under right with them. That was the crux of it, though, wasn't it? He was always drowning or in some feral fit for survival, and sloppy was just how it went - she could warn him off of it, but when was the last time anyone had picked a fair fight with him? When had he last been flung into a situation that didn't have a body count and a promise of more collateral damage? He didn't care if she opened the window or told him off because nobody who got caught in the crosshairs because of him was necessarily intentional and certainly nobody he liked without damn good reason, but he could understand why his foul mood might put someone off. "Hate to be the one to tell you, but it's all sloppy," he offered up, head tipping back, but she'd made progress if she'd been looking to take some of the force from his anger with that. His tone had gone a little quieter, less vitriolic, and perhaps a little... sadness had slipped in there? "Best we can hope is we wade through the muck and come out with our heads still stickin' out our collars."

[starsinshadows]

firelightfables​:

It likely wouldn’t have shocked John to discover Jim’s own faith in forces and beings of the immortal, divine variety was rocky at best. For the good Spectre did in his life, it was largely based upon what the spirit needed from him. A good host was a living one, and though they had their clashes there was history there that indicated that Spectre, at the end of the day, often won. Who wouldn’t want to hang on to that kind of arrangement?

It was why talk of this felt clandestine. Like the seed of a mutiny being planted and encouraged. “New York.” He agreed. “Don’t think I could get a license anywhere else. Gotham, maybe, but between the two would rather stay outta Bat’s territory.” Not to mention he hadn’t liked Gotham. The city had an adverse effect on Spectre and the worse side of the spirit seemed to be more prevalent there. The kiss was returned, albeit distracted, and it was this same half-distant look that stayed as Jim sat at the table. “Yeah, right?” Still, his hand played with his fork, tine twisting on the plate. “You know. Room for more than one eccentric on the roster.”

     John had a decidedly different relationship with divine and immortal beings than Jim did, and even then, he wouldn’t have blamed Jim if the man hated and distrusted them all. Spectre had some good points, maybe, but John saw some of what it did to Jim. He was seeing and hearing more of it here, possibly more than Jim thought he was saying.       “Be easier in the States, aye. Gotta worry ‘bout citizenship, and lots of paperwork, licenses, all that rot, and easier to sell that you’re a Yank than anything else,” he offered, and it was true, Jim was American, but John was probably more in touch with the culture than Jim was, at the moment. Still, the distracted manner Jim had about him as he talked certainly said some things that the man himself wasn’t. “Who, me? Couldn’t get me on a roster in New York without a green card, work visa at least, and it’s all messy. Could help out unofficially, too, you know,” he pointed out, dropping the toast that Jim had likely forgotten in favor of the discussion.

[starsinshadows]

@firelightfables​ is forgetting one minor detail...

          “ i paid for the room, least you can do is offer me the bed. “ (chas to john)

     “Could, but remind me something, Chas,” he said, stepping into the room and taking a good look around, casual-like before he glanced back at his friend. “Who picked the winning numbers for you?”

[starsinshadows]

@firelightfables​ remembered the date better than we did...

          "I might have cheated a bit." An admission made when John appears, the lights no longer flickering and the whoosh of wind already gone. Green smoke is dissipating from where Jim's hands are shoved into his pockets. A sheepish look. "But I'm here." A bright glint in his eyes as a pack of those silk cut abominations is tossed over. "For no reason."

     The entrance was dramatic enough even without the green smoke, but the lights flickered, the wind whipped and suddenly there was Jim, green smoke billowing away from him and his hands in his pockets as he admitted to...cheating? John was already in his cups, more than willing to pretend that he didn’t know the date, but this? Jim tossed a pack of something his way and he caught it, eyes glossing over the label and then he blinked, looking back to Jim. “For no reason, aye? Did you just bring Silk Cuts direct from London on my account?”

[starsinshadows]

@knowseverythingaboutyou​ got her hands on something special...

          “ it’s amazing what you can find on romanian craigslist. ”

     “Honestly, love, not sure if I’m more impressed or concerned. Your lot’s not got a great record of handling the more magical artifacts, or so I hear. What’s it got to do with me, then?” he asked, suitably suspicious, but also insanely curious. The pictures alone suggested exactly what it was, and though that didn’t mean it was legitimate, the idea that that had been found in an internet marketplace just boggled the mind.

[starsinshadows]

angerbuilt​:

( sms: John )  Sleep. That’s what I want to accomplish. ( sms: John )  Nah, same time.  ( sms: John )  I’m talking about sleep because I desperately want to, not because I’m going to. 

( sms: Del ) Take it you’ve tried everything else to get to sleep? I can cook something up but it stuff like that’s addictive. Really wanna make sure nothing else works first. ( sms: Del ) Course it’s your time and money so who am I to argue. 

[starsinshadows]

@firelightfables​ is just plain rude sometimes, I swear...           “you don’t look totally ugly today.” - from chas to john

     “Well, ta, Chas, as opposed to every other day then?” he asked, the smile just a little smug, but also definitely put on for show while he called the man out. “Ye really showin’ off what plaid can do when paired with denims yourself.”

[starsinshadows]

John Constantine Tag Dump

⭐ 

[starsinshadows]

enneadchosen​:

Question was met with a blank blink, not recalling anything of their conversation or deal or even this guy in general. He wasn’t trying to be ignorant, or talk his way out of it, and he hoped he’d convince John of that. ❝ I’m not... This is just how I talk. ❞ What was with everyone calling his accent a trick or a way to pretend to be someone else? ❝ Honestly, mate, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Whatever deal you made, it wasn’t with me. ❞

     “That right? This is just how you talk?” he parroted, amusement beginning to fade. He’d said it was a bad joke, and he wasn’t interested in playing games. If Marc thought he was going to slither out of this, he was far more fool than John had ever imagined. “Well then let’s hope you suddenly got smarter to go with it. This isn’t really the kind of favor that waits around ‘til you’re feelin’ American again.”

[starsinshadows]

@maidencfdeath​ has a unique perspective...

          “even for my kind, pain still hurts”. (for john)

     “Reckon it does, love. How often you find yourself feeling pain in your line of work? Wager over time you lose those human resistances and tolerances,” he offered, not sure that he was right, but willing to make educated guesses and see what stuck. ”Something like that might make the whole thing hit a lot sharper.”

[starsinshadows]

@fallenbringcr​ could use a chorus of trumpets or something...

          [ STARING ] for sender to find receiver sitting alone staring at a wall, covered in blood, and to touch their arm. / for constantine.

     He hadn’t slept in two days, and it was wearing on him, he knew that logically and also knew on the same sort of intellectual level that sometimes, seeing the things that humans weren’t meant to see took its toll. He’d seen a lot in those waking hours, seen horrors befitting the underworld of legend, and now here he was, once again left with the wreckage of what was required of him when the nasties came knocking.      Most of the blood wasn’t his, and while that was great for his physical health, it was just another bit of psychic damage to go along with the rest. Another soul lost, another sacrifice to the good old trolley problem - one life given to save countless others. It always felt so damned rotten to be the one making the call, though.      The feel of a hand against his upper arm, a form coming up from behind him, should have startled him more. Given what he knew of the world and what he’d seen, the silence of the approach should have been terrifying. In the end, he might just have been hitting a proverbial wall as solid as the one he was staring at currently. “Come to get your kicks in, old son? Reckon you might be a little late this time.”

[starsinshadows]

@fallenbringcr​​ could shuffle his feet or something next time...

           “ this isn’t so bad. it’s quite cozy, actually. “ / for constantine.

     “Disappointed in meself for not expectin’ someone like you to come sniffin’ round, but really, Lucifer, you? Can’t imagine I rank that high on the cosmic scale right about now,” he said, pulling a face just at the other’s presence. He wasn’t even addressing the ‘cozy’ quality of the sleeping arrangements. “Unless you’re just that bored.”

[starsinshadows]

vireous​:

     “Prior to popular belief, you can escape their threads. I’ve done it for eons.” In his own way, of course. The difficulty of escaping what was pre-destined was extremely difficult and sometimes the very deals made were far riskier than the threads of fate itself. “I’ve done it so much,” among other things, “the difference this time is that it appears to be one of the few unavoidable things,” he says, pausing for a moment, “I always get called back home.”

     Of all mortals, John was probably the last one that would need to be told that, considering he made it a point to skirt destiny or twist it to suit his needs - which meant the world’s needs more often than not, but he would be the first to admit to being selfish. “Ah, home for the holidays. If it were me, I’d probably get pissed and make a nuisance of myself. Good luck on that front, old son.”

[starsinshadows]

mystictricks asked:

          “Whose blood is that?” @john

     “Well that entirely depends which answer would piss you off less, love,” he told her, giving a casual half-shrug with one shoulder. “Ran into a bit of a fuss, but it’s all cleared up now.”

[starsinshadows]

maidencfdeath​:

THOHH SENTENCE STARTERS // accepting

@starsinshadows​:  ‘  there’s  nothing  sadder  than  a  cold  bed .  ’ - Constantine

          Cassie wasn’t sure if this was some kind of come-on or depressed moping about a recent breakup,  or maybe both.  Either way,  she couldn’t stop the sardonic smirk or sarcastic tone when she replied.   “Oh,  I can think of a few things.”   The reaper propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand as she looked over at the man.   “But,  sure,  being lonely does make the list of things that suck.”

     “Sure y’could, but wouldn’t most of those things be easier to manage if we weren’t alone?” he asked, smiling over his gin before taking a swallow. Surprisingly, it was neither a come-on or depressed moping, though she had every reason to assume it was one or both of those things. He’d honestly taken a guess at her own emotional state, for better or worse. “Part of the human condition, I suppose. We crave company, even if it’s just dragging another poor sod through the mire along with us.”

[starsinshadows]

firelightfables​:

Happy St. Patrick’s Day 2022 : Jim Corrigan!

“Oy, Jim, c'mere,” John called, a book in hand that he’d been looking at. When the man approached, there was a careful look for tell-tale signs - namely white eyes or the threat of a green cowl, before he grabbed Jim by the tie to yank him in for a kiss. “Somethin’ about some yank holiday for you Irish bastards, right?” @starsinshadows​

Jacket off, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up - a rare moment of down time for them both and he’s helping John go through the collection, as the man calls it. There are more than a few artifacts strewn amongst the shelves that have the Spectre shifting a bit, grumbling old words Jim knows he’s using to avoid an argument. But all’s quiet on the ghostie front and Jim’s enjoying the time as unequivocally himself.

At the summons he blinks. “You found it?” Heading over in a gentle gait only to be yanked in for a kiss. Blinking a bit, shaking his head a little, he grins. Leaning against the shelving unit with a forearm, casual. “It March already?” It’s not a great Irish accent, but it’s better than his British one. “Bless me old Irish soul.” A laugh, accent dropped. “You know, traditionally we celebrate with kisses and at least a pint.”

     Letting Jim help with the collection had been a fairly large step, considering the fact that he came with his very own godly vengeance entity, and John wasn’t so sure he wanted Spectre to know about all of this. Even so, the help was appreciated, and if Spectre had anything to say about it, both he and Jim had been quiet so far as John could tell.       It was part of what made him comfortable enough to make the move, and he smirked at the dumb accent, well acquainted with what it should have sounded like, though he wasn’t going to nitpick. His American accent wasn’t much better. “Do you? Well, bugger me for keepin’ us both from kisses and pints. I’ll grab me coat.”