No. 16
(( still filtered to only Constantine. Posted at midnight. ))
I WANT ICE CREAM!!!!!!!
This is boring, how fucking long do I have to BE here?
** shortly after, Baby is heard singing the following: **~ He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat ( Read more... )
I WANT ICE CREAM!!!!!!!
This is boring, how fucking long do I have to BE here?
** shortly after, Baby is heard singing the following: **~ He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat ( Read more... )
[John really wasn't giving Baby a choice, and not even bothering with letting her answer, he began.]
Once upon a time, that's how bed time stories start, right? Once upon a time there was a young boy who saw shit that he wasn't supposed to. He saw the damned, the evil, and the saints. He saw truly good people, and he saw truly bad people. He saw those that were blessed from the light of God, and those damned with the fires of Hell. For lack of a better term, he saw fucked up shit.
Now typically, when people see fucked up shit, they're sent away, and this young boy was no exception. Off to the loony bin he was sent, but this young kid was keen on the games that the doctors played, and easily fooled them into believing he was normal. Getting discharged, he couldn't take much more of his life, so he attempted to kill himself. [A shameful look came over John as he fumbled for a cigarette. Shaking one out of the pack, he quickly placed the cancer stick between his lips, and lit it. Inhaling deeply, that look of shame quickly melted away.]
Now the Old Man up in Heaven has no place for suicidal people, no matter how faithfully one lives during their life. So, this young boy got a glimpse into Hell as the paramedics attempted to resuscitate him. It was only two minutes that he was officially pronounced dead, but... when you die, time stops, everything around you stop. Two minutes seemed like a lifetime in that burning inferno. [Pausing once more, he inhaled on that silk cut, the red cherry from the cigarette illuminating his tired face.]
After witnessing Hell, the young boy knew he never wanted to go there, but he all ready cheated death once, how was he supposed to buy back his wings, and get in God's favor? By using that gift of being able to see the Holy and the Damned. He swore from that day he would put all those demons, poltergeists, anti-christs, damned, and false prophets back where they belong, back in Hell.
[John stopped here, that was enough for one night, right?]
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It was rare for Baby to care for anyone outside of Fireflys and herself. And maybe she didn't truly care now, maybe she was only pretending, but at the end of John's little bedtime story, which most certainly did not make her tired, Baby set her ice cream aside and crawled forward to the edge of her bed, eying Constantine and tilting her head most curiously at him. At first, she said nothing, too many questions bubbling on the tip of her tongue and threatening to over spill. What he said was terrifying on some levels. Did this mean that Hell really existed? Or was it only in his world that shit like that was real.
Baby held out one hand and waited for John to react. She wasn't going to say anything just yet, though she was dying to ask if she herself had wings. Instead, she wanted to inspect John's wrists...unless he had tried some other way to off himself. Assuming she was piecing this puzzle together in all the right ways. She held a look of concern, the usual crazed smile none existent. ]
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What? You expect because I told you that story that we're going to hold hands now? [Shaking his head, John slid back on the chair a bit. Yeah, he's still an asshole.]
My turn, what do you see in ol' Two-Face... and that push-over the Master? I get their your friends, but why? [Valid question, right?]
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[ Still waiting for his compliance, Baby answered his stupid question, shifting her weight to sit Indian-style. ] "They're fun. And Saxxykins saved my life. We've been working together since I got here." [ She shrugged. ] You need allies in this place, that much is fuckin' obvious. Dop - Two-Face is probably the closet I'm going to get to someone understanding me. And sometimes? He reminds me of Otis...I... [ she stopped herself short of saying she missed her brother, not wanting to open up overly to John. He wanted to share his sob story, go ahead, but that didn't mean she had to spill her guts so willingly. He already knew too much because of that goddamn file. ] "Whatever."
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[Replacing the silk cut, he inhaled deeply, letting the grayish smog circle his head.] Allies or not, they don't seem like the greatest of people to be hanging around. I mean, Two-Face ditched you in the library the moment I showed up, what kind of ally is that?
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She smirks, a snort-like laugh emitting from her mouth. ] "He didn't abandon me, I was hoping for a distraction so he could escape, maybe get off the hook." [ Only, she hadn't thought of it as abandonment until John said anything. She made a note to herself to later question Two-Face.
Baby scowled at the smoke, waving her free hand at it. ] "You smoke too fuckin' much, it's gross." [ Paused. ] "Hey...do I have wings?" [ In changing the subject, she turned to look behind her, at her back, before looking at him again. ]
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That's a friend? Someone who is willing to leave you to prevent himself from getting in trouble. [Shaking his head, John scoffed, and put the cigarette out on the chair leaving a scorch mark.
John obviously ignored the smoking comment, like he hadn't heard THAT before. Everyone told John he smoked too much, did that stop him? No. He has cut back though... only half a pack a day since Chas' death.
Glancing over Baby, his eyes followed her's as she looked behind her, and down her back. Smirking, John shook his head.] The only ones that have wings are those that are blessed by the Lord, and if you're on this barge, you're sure as fuck not blessed by the Old Man upstairs. [Was that a slight rumble of thunder in the distance? Wait, was God actually looking down on him even now, as he sat on the barge? Pausing Constantine looked up, not at the ceiling, but more of an apprehensive, and very acute look, like he was listening very closely. Shaking his head, he looked back at Baby after a few seconds.]
You don't have wings, sorry Baby-Cakes.
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Desperate for contact, and still not revealing that vocally either, she held onto to his arm, keeping it in her lap while he spoke. ] "These have stories too," [ she nodded down at his arm. ] "One day, Baby-Cakes wants to hear those too, kay?"
[ She shrugs about not having wings, looking disappointed only long enough for John to catch it if he's truly paying attention. ] "Whatever, probably get in the way anyhow. What's the tattoo mean?"
[ Baby herself only has one ink stamp, a firefly about the size of dime on her right hip. But John probably already knows that too. She wondered how much he did know and how she's ever be able to catch him off guard. ]
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It's a sigil, or a symbol created for a specific magical purpose. This one... [Lifting up his arms for her to see.] is called the Perfect Red King of Sulfur, it's a symbol in alchemy, sulfur is considered a purifying agents. [Pulling his arms apart, he crossed them over the back of the chair and nodded to Baby.]
It's this symbol that told me you were starting shit in the library. Why were you trying to burn that place down? I get reading isn't the most entertaining thing to do, but for fuck sake, there are people here that do like to read.
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[ She was bored and John wasn't exactly ugly to stare at or nothin'.
Baby grabbed her ice cream to finish it before it melted, poking at it when he started to interrogate her. ] "This place needed some spicing up. They're always bitchin' how bored they are, whine, whine, whine, so I asked for a Clyde to my Bonnie and made the fuckers move. Tried to give them excitement. You know that Namor is a fuckass, he's gonna kill me one day. Or try."
[ She snickered, a near giggled, taking a hearty bite of her frozen treat. ]
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Leaning forward on the chair, elbows came to rest on the back of the chair, as he watched her poke at the ice cream.] You should really find some kind of hobby. Burning down a library isn't exactly the best choice to pass time, and make things interesting.
[Climbing off the seat, John fixed his sleeves back around his arms once more, and righted the black trench coat. He was ignoring her comment about Namor for the time being.]
I'll make you a deal, you apologize to Fish-Man, Sam Tyler, and Aleera for all the trouble you have caused them and I'll let you out. [He paused.] On a few conditions, one... if anyone ever lays a finger on you, you find me. Don't retaliate. Number two, make it your mission to try and stay out of trouble, even if that means going against what Two-Face or Master want. Real friends would understand that kind of shit.
Get it? [Gaze narrowed on the woman, just to try and read her.]
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[ It was now her mission to make him show her. And seduce him. She still needed to do that if only to make him go against one of his fuckin' retarded rules.
She eyed him, licking her spoon slowly so that the ice cream spread on her exposed tongue. It could have been suggestive. It could have been her lost in her own thoughts and too busy to multitask correctly. Still, some of his propositions were worth considering, while others flew in one ear and slid out the other. ] Why the fuck do you care so much about me anyway, John?
[ The use of his real name should not go unnoticed. It was the first time she had called him as such, and it was evident that, by the look in her eyes and tone of her voice, she was serious. He wasn't family. He wasn't her friend. He had called her crazy (oh, no, sorry, psychotic) and he knew about every murder, every missing person, every fucked up attraction that she had been a part of. ]
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[Shrugging lightly, he moved to the door once more.] Don't forget about the deal. [Exit. John, stage left!]
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