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( open post. ) v. 3
feel free to post up your own starter! images, quotes, whatever really. let's have some fun.
feel free to post up your own starter! images, quotes, whatever really. let's have some fun.
feel free to post up your own starter! images, quotes, whatever really. let's have some fun.
Good lord turned his back on me
Usually he pushes through on a rush of magic and booze and bravado, making miracles happen from magic and methods that are anything but heaven sent. Fear is a luxury, adrenaline saves his skin often, and he handles each shitstorm with the same seat of his pants rush and hidden aces.
But it's getting worse. And he's alone for now, save for Manny's unwanted presence and constant games. John doesn't trust him one bit, the rising darkness is still an issue, and he's getting no closer to finding a solution for what's going on in their world.
It's all bullshit. And he's scared. Genuinely scared. So it's time to call in a favor. He's certain that Manny means no good at this point for him, his instincts are screaming at him. And he figures if someone has a handle on this bullshit, it's Old Scratch himself.
Calling on him doesn't seem like a smart idea. But John Constantine is all out of smart ideas right now.]
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He took some time off recently, much as Lucifer had, though his choice of venue had garish scenery. Ravenscar. Horrible little place. How many times is that now that he's flung himself headfirst into the care of those fools? Awful.
But the world is changing. There's a Darkness growing from corners left unturned for eons now. He doesn't care, rather. Well, mostly. He didn't until he heard the whispers that Constantine had arrived in Los Angeles. In his club. There's only one reason that the mage would stoop so low as to come to him.
Fear.
Lucifer knows his soul. The innermost part of him and he's held it in his hands. This mess of a human that he claimed as his own so many years ago now. Fear is not a thing that he cops to lightly. It's hardly more than a passing thought.
The club is busy as ever and he already has the best bottle in the house at his personal table. Two glasses poured and his own in his hand. He smells the whiskey and sighs, his smile is that of a man who knows exactly what cards all the other players have in their hands. Constantine's is a losing game. ]
Welcome to the party, Johnny Boy. Have a seat, tell old Luci about what brings you here. [ He licks his teeth with his widening grin, looking downright predatory. ] Love that particular cologne on you.
Hardly your usual.
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But he's here for a reason. And that reason is big enough that it's worth eating a bit of humble pie and visiting the great tosser himself.]
Oh, I figured I was in the neighborhood, might as well pop in to see you. Figured it was about time that we had a little chin-wag. [John is well aware that he wouldn't have been let in the doors if Lucifer didn't want to gloat at him. A chance meeting with him here was impossible. So he grabs the glass, trying not to think too much at how he feels a bit like a rabbit trying to stare down a wolf.
Bravado is great when you've got all the cards in your favor. When you don't? It's pointless.] You know about the rising darkness. Well, someone you might know has been putting me to work on it. [He takes a swallow, and it almost pisses him off how nice the booze is. False comforts indeed.]
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He lounges back on the plush sofa, stretching his free arm out with a sigh. ]
In the neighborhood right. Is that why you smell like coach on the cheapest airline available. Well, that and fear. [ Another swallow and he finishes his glass, gesturing at John to offer over his own so he can refill both. ] I'm almost jealous that it's got nothing to do with me.
[ Bravado isn't something he's familiar with. Most people manage it until they get to Lucifer and then it all crumbles. Bits shrivel up, as it were. He enjoys John's cockiness though. The swagger. The way he stares down the Heavens themselves as if they are nothing more than a nuisance in his way. Absolutely thrilling. ] That old yawnfest, yes. It's just about as old a story as the end times are nigh. Same old song.
[ Cue an indelicate snort. ] Someone I know? Haven't you heard I'm retired? But do go on. I'm curious what's got your knickers in a twist, John. Go ahead, regale me.
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[No, that wasn't how it would have gone down at all. And the sarcasm is real, but so was the earlier idea to do a ritual.] But like I said, this involves someone else. And I'm being watched.
[John almost wishes he'd done it, even if he was sure that he couldn't get away with it. Manny is always just out of sight, dropping in when he's needed least to be as little help as possible.] Sure, it's dull to you, but it's a big deal to the rest of us.
[It's so hard to keep his temper under control. He's so irritated already, and the rest of that whiskey goes from glass to stomach fast. He sets the glass back down, shakes his head, and gets back to it.] Does the name Manny ring a bell at all? I figured you two might be acquainted. And he's been very invested in me lately.
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[ His tone dips sharply into dangerous territory. ] Whose heart do I have to eat in order to get that back on the table.
[ An eyebrow ticks up and his mouth purses. ] Well, not here you aren't No one's that stupid. [ Besides, Maze would take care of it. She's sworn to protect him. ] Yes, yes I'm well aware. Dear old dad's ant farm is in mortal danger as ever. As always.
[ Lucifer nods towards the bottle on the table, indicating that John should feel free to help himself. He's already fussy. It's adorable really. He snorts softly. ] Manny. You mean, Emmanuel? About your height, likes snooping. Always playing sides but can't ever quite commit?
You can do far better, John.
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Oh, we could start with Nergal. I'd do a hell of a lot more than just shave my face for that one. Can't imagine his heart being anything but bloody rancid though. He past his expiration date long ago.
[The talk of Manny makes John feel like he's sinking. He doesn't want to lose hope. He's been desperate to have a chance at salvation. He's worked so hard for it. But he doesn't think it's really possible. Especially not from Manny's hands.] I don't know. He's not so bad. He's not hard to look at, at least. And you know me, I've had worse company. Better too, but still worse. [There's a shrug, and he grabs the bottle with a little more shakiness than he wanted to show. He doesn't care right now, though. He's beyond caring about a good deal right now. Especially when he's got whiskey to occupy himself with.]
Well with what he's been dropping in hints and plays? I might just get my way back into the good graces. That's part of what he's been stringing me along with. And you know, guilt, cryptic nonsense. The usual stuff. I know good ol' Nergal isn't happy about that. And I'm-[John cuts himself off then. He's not even sure what he was going to try to save. I'm scared? I'm worried? I'm not sure how to handle this? There's nothing that sentence could be that would suit John right now.] I think he's full of shit, though. The more high and mighty types usually are. I just want to know who really has me at this point. Who's got the most fingers in my little pot. [Vulgar? Sure. But he doesn't care at all. He's not even sure who owns his soul now, the darkness is still a threat, and he wants to punch Manny in face. Niceties can be damned with him.]
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Nergal? That twisted creature. I've heard a little of what he's been up to, didn't realize he'd gotten those claws of his into my favorite soul. What if I wrap it in a bow for you? Turn it into a sort of corsage. [ A laugh into his next sip. ] Garish, I know but I think you could pull it off nicely.
Oh, Johnny. Johnny. [ His expression turns to one of almost pity. ] How is it that we always find ourselves here? It's only right to hope. You humans need it. Just like you need someone to blame. It's easy to take it out on me but you lot get yourselves into these situations all on your own.
Manny doesn't have the juice to carry you out of Perdition, darling. Not that he ever did. It's entirely unfair of him to dangle that in front of you. Cruel, even and that's coming from me.
[ John continues and now it's Lucifer's turn to stew. He sniffs, expression changing in a myriad of ways. Settling darkly over his features. ]
I might no longer be in Hell but it's still my domain. Your soul shouldn't have anyone's grubby little paws on it. Not without my express permission. [ He scoffs and his eyes narrow. ] You haven't been speaking to my brother Amenadiel, have you? Stick jammed pretty far up his angelic arse?
He's been trying to get me back in Hell "where I belong" for some time now.
[ Now his brother could certainly have the juice and sway to do what Manny is blowing hot air about. ]
I certainly hope this isn't some poor attempt at a con. I would be terribly upset with you.
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Oh, well, we've had a run in or two now. I'm not too fond of him. He'd be better off tangled up into a bow than left to his own devices. Probably more attractive that way too. [He'd be fine with the joking and play, if he wasn't so fucked up over all of this. He needs answers, and he's almost certain that he's going to have to owe Lucifer for ones that won't really change anything. And he looks away, listening to Lucifer speak, teeth gritted while his mouth stays forced into a false smile.
He's so utterly fucked. And he's not alone in that. He won't be the only one suffering.
His stomach turns at what he perceives as mockery from Lucifer, he knew deep down that Manny couldn't help him but it aches to even think of it. He fucked up, that was on him. But the pain is visceral and real. And he snaps out his next words, angered.] I know who to blame, damn it! [And he knows the only one to blame here is himself. At least as far as his damnation goes. He reels it back, and takes another drink and a decently large one. He filled that glass up generously, and it's already starting to give him that little bit of comforting numbness.
There's no hope. He's properly fucking damned. And he's pretty sure that Lucifer doesn't have the grasp on his soul that he thinks that he does.]
If you think you've got my soul, mate, you'd probably be wrong. I'm Nergal's from what I know of. And he's not the only one trying to lay claim to me. I'm rather sought after. Suppose it's my charm. [He shakes, a deep tremble running through him from anger more than anything else.] And I'm starting to think that my buddy Manny is up to more than just fucking with me. Bastard won't even buy me dinner first. [His expression is sour, although he's absolutely taking note of the situation at hand. He doesn't know if there's anything he can pull with that information about Lucifer and Amenadiel. But every damn bit of information is worth something when he's this screwed.] If I had a decent con, do you think I'd be here right now? I'd be making things happen, not begging you for bloody information about asshole angels and demons.
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But he isn't mocking the mage. No, quite far from it. ]
So I've heard. Rather unfortunate. Your thinking on the matter wasn't wrong in using the bastard. You couldn't have known the name you thought you needed was wrong. [ With binding Nergal for the spell with little Astra. Lucifer takes no delight at all in knowing that a child's soul is damned for all eternity over something so trivial as a technicality. ] It's what they do: demons. Trick. Use.
[ A sigh. ] Though it seems my siblings are taking their cues from Father. That or finally having enough of the same old thing.
Excuse me? [ This time the glass is discarded with a sharp clink on the table. He looks offended then a dawning look comes upon him. The laugh that escapes him is absolutely mirthless, a huff of air and his jaw works in agitation. ] That cheeky devil.
He doesn't have the juice to free your soul but he can shift to who it belongs under the right circumstances. It takes some doing but it isn't impossible. Which means he hasn't fallen but my dear brother is teetering dangerously over that precipice. [ Lucifer draws a breath in through his nose, humming in annoyance. Quickly, he shifts to get to his feet, buttoning his jacket as he does and reaches out to take the glass from the man near ready to cause a scene in his club. ] Enough of that.
He might not buy you dinner first, but I'll wine and dine you in a way you won't forget. Appetizers first, dear. [ He crooks a finger to indicate John should get up. ] I won't be flying coach so tell me you've got enough of that righteous anger in you to pop open a portal for us.
I want to have a bit of a reunion. [ His eyes flash red with the smirk that stretches over his lips. ] Show us some magic, Johnny.
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He's not even sure how to take Lucifer's words. It's so surreal for him right now, sitting in Luci's posh over the top club, drinking whiskey he couldn't afford on his own, listening to words that might be comforting from someone else. And John feels like he's been tossed into some sort of messed up alternate reality.
He doesn't even know what to think about Lucifer at all now. Besides not to trust him, but maybe just once it's worth it to behave himself for a short time. Besides, he's getting good whiskey out of it and if nothing else Lucifer isn't particularly happy with the news that he's given him.
Maybe that'll get something rolling if nothing else.
But when Lucifer brings up that Manny can shift who holds John's soul, John responds with the same level of shock as if he'd been slapped in the face.] You've got to be shitting me. The bloody piece of-[The rest of the contents of the glass goes into his mouth and throat in one go, John is infuriated entirely. John wants to know how far back this goes. Angels have a lot of lifespan for a scheme like this, and there's plenty of time to work every angle.] How long do you think he's been playing at this? [John doesn't want to think of how much sway Manny might have had in things. But he has a feeling that they're going to get the answers soon.] Guess we'll find out. Welcome to air Constantine, sorry mate, you've got no choice in the tickets. You get what you get. And with me it's always a rough ride.
[He's seething and shaking with anger, jaw clenched tight, and it's in these moments that he usually makes his worst choices. But he's already in too deep, damned and furious about being played. Even if it was his choice to be taken in, the dream of a life that didn't end for him straight into the proverbial fiery lake was too good to let go of. And it's all being spurred on by red eyed glory, fear and excitement twisting and heating inside of him in response.]
Oh, I'm good for it. If nothing else, I'm always up for a little magic. [He hasn't made a good portal in a while, not ones for personal use anyway. But he manages with the same intensity as all of his spells, they're physical and spiritual for him, and he forms the portal with the expected forcefulness. Magic bends to John Constantine, and this is some of his finest work.
It's beautiful. Golden, glorious, and open right in front of Lucifer. Damn whoever else might see it. They've got shit to do, and if they're in the devil's sodding nightclub they might as well see a little hellishness, not that there's too many this far back.] After you.
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Breaking him in new and horrifying ways each time. A loop on a never-ending repeat. One that John won't be able to escape.
If John feels particularly slapped. Then Lucifer feels as if there's been an attempt at a backhand. The cheek of it all. The unmitigated gall. ]
Considering the fact that I've only been out of Hell for a small amount of time by your standards---five years? Actively, at least. He might've had the idea from the last time I skipped out of my duties in Hell and put a plan into action were I to ever abscond again. [ A scoff. ] I have to admit I'm reluctantly impressed.
[ Lucifer rarely shows magic off as predominantly as all this. But he's beyond caring about the lecture he's sure to receive from Amenadiel. There are things to deal with and his brother should bloody well understand. There's an almost flavor to John's magic.
A heavy way it lingers on the tongue and in the air around him. Intoxicating in its own way. He steps through the portal and once it closes behind him, shakes off the sensation fairly easily afterward. Dark eyes flick around them, wooded area, the humidity is high a bit of celestial feelers out and---
The laugh that escapes him is entirely too amused for the situation at hand. ] So, the Devil finally does come down to Georgia!
[ His teeth set on edge. Bared like an animal's. ]
Oh, Manny! Be a good little brother and skulk your way out of the spirit realm to face me properly.
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Fuck this. Fuck Manny and his bullshit. Fuck hell. Fuck every goddamned aspect of this mess. Fuck his own shitty choices more than anything else but what was he supposed to do to change things so many of those times?
He needs to pull himself together. He tries to take in the scent and air around him, to think of the reason they're there, think of what little revenge he might be able to get if this goes well. It doesn't help, his attempts to calm himself are worthless now. He just can't.
Not on his own, anyway. So he grits his teeth, and makes himself look at Lucifer for a moment. The man is not someone John favors one bit, but he's there, and they have a common goal in the moment. So there's some strength and focus to be gleaned just from that. And he's finally able to take a breath. He's not alone and that helps.
Fancy that, using Satan himself to call down. How the might have fallen, truly.]
Do you really think he'll come out to face you? I don't think he's got it in him. [John thinks he might, actually. But if he's really that far gone, it won't be directly. No, he'll be looking for an opening, a way to turn the knife before either of them have the chance to. That's what John would do, anyway. But he doesn't really know Manny at all. So who knows how this will proceed.] We could always force his hand a little.
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If he knows what's good for him he will. I'll drag him out of the spirit realm by his feathers if I have to.
[ There's a shift in the air pressure. Magic. Like someone is considering. Consider faster, brother. ]
What're you thinking of doing?
Are you strong enough to stand? Protecting both your heart and mine
It's just a tiny splatter, but in his eyes it stands out like it's a bucket's worth across his white shirt. It's dried down a good deal now, the color isn't quite what it was earlier, but to John it's just as red and just as wrong and just as loudly a declaration of failure as when it was fresh. And he's got his coat tight around him, as much security blanket as a way to hide the bulk of it as he makes his way through Lux. Heading right to the one person he wants to see right now.
John isn't entirely sure what he really wants out of Lucifer. He might be looking for punishment for something that he had no way of helping. He might be looking for comfort. Perhaps both. But he doesn't even have the strength mentally to sort through all of that. And he doesn't want to bother even trying.
He's ready. He's going to hand himself over and get whatever Lucifer gives him in return.
Of course, Lu has someone with him. He's a busy man, after all. So John fixes himself up a bit more as he gets closer, trying to make himself look less like he's had a lot of drink and a good cry before showing up, and fuck there's blood under a couple of his nails still. He should have washed better before showing up. The urge to go and get a drink first comes to mind, but he shakes it off.
Lucifer is all he needs now.]
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Especially after all of that ugly business with his little brother Emmanuel.
John had a case and so Lucifer has been left on his own for a couple of weeks now. It's hardly unusual. Constantine is rather like a stray cat. He comes and goes as he pleases and now and again he comes when Lucifer calls. It works for them. No tugging proverbial leashes and the like. A lovely young waitress drops off a drink for him and he turns his head as she whispers in his ear.
He clocks John across the way almost as soon as the energy in the room shifts. It's palpable. Guilt. Loss. Desperation. These scents and flavors make up the mage just as much as whiskey and nicotine. Lucifer is quick to finish his conversation. It's a well to do actor just looking for a little extra pep in life. He'll survive another day without a favor or two.
So the Lord of Hell gets to his feet, buttoning his jacket and jerking his chin toward the stairs that lead to the elevator and the penthouse. As he quickly moves to meet John, he stops him carefully with a touch at his elbow. Dark eyes roam over the other man's features and the smell of blood is perhaps only noticeable to himself.
Gentleness has a place for them, he's found. Here in the club at the moment while John looks utterly wrecked in no good ways is hardly one of those places or times. He wears the look of a man lost and looking for direction. Guidance. Most would call to his Father. How ironic the exorcist calls on him. A crooked finger up under John's chin to bear his gaze up. ]
Upstairs. Pour yourself a drink. I'll be there shortly.
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John almost always has something to say, a little bit of a forced banter to push the point home that he belongs to no one and no amount of misery makes him reach for anyone. But today he's entirely incapable of it. So when Lucifer is there, making him look upwards, giving him firm but calm orders? All he does is nod, reddened eyes fixated on Lucifer. He's at the end of his rope, and Lucifer feels like the anchor he can attach it to.
So he does what he's told this time. He pulls away, opens his mouth for a moment in a wordless plea, and then just shakes his head and goes upstairs. Each step feels like he's been bound in concrete, every moment like he's treading water, it's like the world is fighting him from getting to where he needs to be.
But then he's upstairs. It felt like forever, even if it took practically no time at all. So he pours himself a drink, and works on it slowly. He's got a good amount of booze in him anyway, there's no need to guzzle it.
And all he has to do now is wait.]
( swallowed by a vicious vengeful sea darker days are raining over me. )
He knew what it looked like on humans. How it ate away at them like acid. Chewing and chipping and sloughing away.
They were only supposed to talk. But it escalated. It was a brutal fight and Maze was no match for Uriel though she tried. Then the words that pierced cold dread all the way through him. His brother having enough of these little games and deciding to punish Lucifer by killing not only mum but Chloe and John as well. He could do it.
A simple press of that piano key and he could call it all into action. Lucifer would be helpless to do anything but wait for the inevitable hammer drop. Panic overwhelmed him and then---
The return to Lux is in a daze. He knows John is there. He has been for weeks now. How often is the Devil himself afraid? Well, when his mum is in town and intent on using him. He didn't know for what though and he was unmoored, drifting. Desperate. He needed grounding and Linda couldn't possibly understand though she tried.
His clothes are plastered to him in places. Hands no longer slippery but sticky, itching. There's the pungent smell of copper in his nose and he feels as though he might actually be sick. The elevator opens and both John and his mum stand in the dark room from where they'd been waiting.
Constantine had told him to be careful. A frankly chaste goodbye. Just in case. After all, only Celestials can harm other Celestials. His mum is talking, asking after Uriel and Lucifer's heart is in his throat, eyes burning and wet. Don't look at me like that. Please don't. But she does, she is and there could be understanding there but how? How could she have any understanding for him when he's killed his brother, one of her children?
When she does step toward him he draws back, shoulders tensed and folding in a little on himself much like a child. No, no it's all wrong. This is all---Lucifer's gaze follows over when John draws closer, mouth trembling. His voice breaks. ]
What've I done?
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That distraction doesn't last. When the elevator opens, John's focus is entirely on Lucifer. And John's heart is breaking for him, like there's a vice grip around it that keeps it from beating quite right. John doesn't know when he passed that line where Lucifer was worth more than sex and desperation clinging for some sort of hope of a better outcome. But it's painfully apparent now that the line wasn't just crossed, but blazed past, left in the dust of days long gone.
He'd do literally anything now to make this right for him. And it's impossible to.]
Oh, Lu. [John doesn't know what to say just yet. But he knows that Lucifer doesn't need to be here like this, dirty with his brother's blood and eyes full of tears. No, Lucifer is a beautifully put together man, dark and decadent and elegant, and he deserves to have his worst moments in privacy. If the man had a single sign of him wanting to be near his mother now, John would step back and just wait his turn. But that little draw back tells him more than enough.] Come on, handsome. Let's get you out of those clothes. [He swallows, forcing a gentle tone and calm demeanor. It's his turn to take care of Lucifer now.
He hooks an arm around him, nodding at Lucifer's mum, it's time to get him away from her.]
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He thought, once, that something like this might cause a buzzing in the mind. That it would be this obnoxiously loud thing. Like an old radio with nothing but static. The reality is worse. A quiet cavern in his own skull and nothing to fill it up. Just the knowledge of what he's done. What he can't take back.
Were Lucifer more aware in the moment he might realize what this is. This bit of role reversal. When he was there for John after an awful case. He can't think like that. The connections don't come. John says the nickname he uses for him and his mouth turns down in a frown, chin quivering. He doesn't realize that Maze has made her way back to clean up and nurse her own wounds from their fight until his mum tries to take another step toward her son and the demon's voice cuts through the air sharply. ] He doesn't need you. Constantine will look after him.
[ Threats, not that they are needed, are implied. She's seen the two of them together enough to know that John wouldn't use these moments of vulnerability against Lucifer. If he was that stupid he wouldn't be around to gloat about it for long. But she knows she's ill-equipped to help the Lord of Hell in this moment.
Bent over a little at the arm that finds its way around him, a shaking hand reaches for purchase on the exorcist. Anything to ground him. But he looks down at his bloody hand and thinks better of it, drawing back as if burned. A shuddering breath escapes but all he can manage is a nod.
Maze and his mum leave at some point and Lucifer isn't quite certain when they make it into the bathroom. ]
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When Lucifer draws back, John moves with him. He's there, a present force that stays with Lucifer, ready to support him more if needed. Hell, he'd carry him if he thought it was necessary, but Lucifer makes it to the bathroom well enough. Of course he would. John has had to be carried more often than not. But Lucifer is Lucifer.]
I've got you. [There's no point in saying that it'll be alright, it won't. And while John will lie happily when it suits him to many, he doesn't lie to Lucifer. There's no point. And who wants false comfort now? It wouldn't do any good. John can't imagine that much will though.]
Here, let me help you. [John moves with as much gentleness as he can manage, working off Lucifer's jacket first, pressing a soft kiss against his jaw while he works. It's entirely chaste, it's meant for comfort and reassurance. And then he moves to his shirt.] The bath'll feel good.