( catch-all ) come away with innocence and leave me with my sins

[oldhound]

Who: John Constantine oldhound+ you!
What: open and closed prompts in comments.
When: Mostly February but with a prompt or two likely from January and December.
Where: all around the place!

Content Warnings: none yet. will update here and in subject lines as needed.

Comments

shedding. ft. kid!john

[oldhound]

( when we were little we made houses out of cardboard boxes. we can do anything. )

[ Though it may not seem like it most times, John plans. He has backup plans in place for most horrible situations he can conjure up. Being where they are, he's not been able to come up with so many as he might've liked but one seemed to happen to others fairly regularly.

That is the fact that people will change into others. He even has, in fact, and the one that didn't sit the best with him is what if he winds up in a particularly bad way. Namely, that scrawny little pest that would've made everyone question how he grew into such a rotten bastard. So, once plans are in place he doesn't worry over it much. No point. Things are triggered as they should when a certain little someone decides to touch his Omni for the first time and it sends out an automated message to those closest to him detailing what's likely happened in as few words as possible.

There's a few places he can be found, if not at the cabin he normally shares with Herc.

At the shop, well, a kid already interested in magic and the like has just found out that the keys he found near the crystal that lets him talk to people opens up a place full of amazing stuff. The kinds of stuff he couldn't even dream up and he and Natalie and Chas only ever read stories about. That must mean it's his, right? I mean, why else would he have the keys for it?

Maybe he's decided he's going to play shop owner for the day. Or maybe he's playing it safe and sneaking about to get a closer look at things. If he's playing shop owner then plan on him pushing over a chair to climb up on when that bell goes off so that he can greet you properly.

Or maybe you just happen to be stopping in to see little fingers trying to get a bottle off of a shelf a touch too high, followed by a crash and a soft oops. Don't mind the trenchcoat left in a heap near the door and the small, wet footprints leading away. It's fine. Really.


Wandering outside might also be a way he catches someone's attention. Mostly cause it's a bit comical seeing a tiny little thing like him wandering with an oversized trenchcoat wrapped around him and dragging with nothing but his bare feet. Sure, he was concerned at first himself but the cold isn't all that bad. Of course he wouldn't know that. Thank goodness his adult self's typical blood powers are still in tact, eh?

He's absolutely fascinated by the all that's going on around him. Luckily he managed to run into a few people that don't seem too awful. After all, a small child who doesn't know how the ins and outs of coin works around here would be easy to take advantage of. He's not really thinking much of it, just that it's an awful lot to carry along with his loom so he'll turn to the person nearest to him and offer up a sweet. ]

You can have my other one.

[ Could also be in the hustle and bustle of moving through unfamiliar streets that he winds up jostled and losing his grip on his toy loom. After a few moments of panic, he'll find the little yellow string having unwound itself and followed it to whoever has picked it up, breath fogging out as he comes to a stop and biting his bottom lip. ]

'Cuse me---[ He points toward the little wooden toy. ]---I dropped that. That's mine.

[ It's a far cry from the much bolder and arrogant Constantine who normally wanders around.

And lastly contact him via Omni to try and see if your character can locate him and maybe get the kid to come to where you are. Or maybe just have a conversation. ]

at the shop

[wwrench]

He knows he can't come and go from here undetected. Knows John has a million ways that he could only imagine to track the opening and closing of the door, the footsteps across his floor, hell, probably even the amount of water that Wrench uses. The other man has never made a comment about any of it. He's never been made to feel as if his presence is a nuisance or there's something regrettable about the offer to let him stay. Still, Wrench feels guilty. Because one way or another, he's taking what isn't his. He's forging a needless reliance on the man over things he could do for himself if he wanted. He just doesn't want to.

So there he is again in the corner of the shop, back to the door when it swings open. Wrench has a book on spellcraft spread out in front of him and he's engrossed in thumbing gingerly through the pages, occasionally stopping to jot down a note in a little book near his elbow. The slice of light cast through the front door expands past him and catches his eye, and when he turns to see the young boy standing just inside and looking awestruck, his expression narrows.

Wrench grabs his Omni and stands. Before he can cross the floor, the boy's already halfway to touching something on one of the shelves, and he stamps the floor hard to get his attention. Wrench doesn't recognize him. Not yet.

Outside!

[frogfear]

[Willow's found the dropped loom on the ground, and is looking for the owner when the boy approaches to reclaim his toy. She smiles and crouches down so she's on his level before holding it out to him.]

I was just trying to find who dropped it. Here you go.

[It's January, and she's well aware of the changes that have come over many of the residents of the town, and while she might not have immediately recognized him as John otherwise, that trench coat is unmistakable. Even so, he is still far, far too young, and far too small to be out here on his own.]

John??

Outside

[opress]

[Human kits were so hard to figure out who they belonged to unless their appearance had always been unique. After all, it wasn't as if human kits had literal tattoos saying who they were and what clan they belonged to, which left a Zabrak uncertain of when a kit showed up on who to hand the little thing off to.

So when a kit's toy ended up next to his foot and he crouched to retrieve it, he spotted the boy that it belonged to. He was also far too used to ill-fitted clothing being on kits, what with how the Nightbrothers persisted mainly on hand-me-downs and not all sizes were available at any given time. For him, it wasn't odd.

He examined the strange toy, which seemed to be some kind of... weaving device. Then he looked at the human kit.]

Maybe you shouldn't drop your things. [He extended the loom back to the tiny kit, remaining in his crouch so he didn't just tower over the boy.] You should tie the bottom of your coat up. It's dragging and will cause you to get cold. [Also no shoes, but whatever.]

Outside

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul, rendered into the form of an eight-year-old Dathomirian kit, is timid and shy, not one much prone to drawing attention to himself. He's been staying with Savage and so at least has a home he can go back to when the city gets overwhelming to his small senses. Right now, having finished with the chores his brother set out for him, he's off to wander the streets again.

He's only just picked up the toy loom out of curiosity when he's approached. Maul's got a fluffy black cloak on to keep himself warm. The hood is up, concealing his features, though as John gets closer it will be very apparent Maul's not human. There's the look of a nervous feral kitten in his eyes, like he might hiss and run away if someone frightens him too much. But the fact it's a fellow kid approaching him and not an adult keeps him from bolting. When John points to what's in his hands, he nods.]

Oh. 'Kay. You can have it back.

[He hands it back over to the little blonde boy.]

past event stuff.

[oldhound]

tbd.

network. for luna and willow.

[oldhound]

( but we are at the crossroads my little outlaw and this is the map of my heart. )

for luna: checking in on the two of you. hopefully no one is suffering too much from cabin fever just yet. has it been quiet enough?

for willow: thought about labeling this by day but i'm pretty sure that will only encourage insanity to take hold faster. you surviving well enough over there on your own?

Text

[frogfear]

Yeah, we're okay here. Mostly just staying low, watching out for any sign of trouble. What about you?

text; un: quibbler

[creidim]

I don't think it's possible for Peter to feel cabin fever. But we're both alright. Not really sleeping all that well.

But it's rather quiet. So that's something, at least.

action. for wrench @ the shop.

[oldhound]

(  we have not touched the stars nor are we forgiven. )

[ One of John's first stops after Maul's network post is his shop. In part to check the warding on it, shore up anything that needs be and gather supplies. Another important reason is the fact that Wrench sort of bloody lives there and if someone is gunning for John then the bloke kind of deserves being filled in on the details. Especially if he wants to see himself somewhere else for the time being.

Constantine wouldn't blame him at all for it.

For the time being, he doesn't want to worry over anyone else barging in, so the shop is turned round to indicate everything is closed as he sets about checking everything around the entrance to start. Satisfied enough, he notes to come back to the rest and heads toward the back where he'd set away some space for the big man. It's courtesy so as not to sneak up or intrude too much that he set up a little magical candle that could light via sigil to let him know John was in the shop.

Wrench, so far as John knows, spent the bulk of the last month tucked away in one of those strange cocoons that John imagines equate to some kind of protective or liminal space. Herc's found himself in those quite a lot as well. It's more disturbing to look at overall for everyone out here than actual harm to the person inside, he's found.

He's trying (and failing) at not pacing then finally decides to shrug out of his trenchcoat and toss it over the nearest chair, one hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. He always knew this would happen, but the foolish part of him hoped it'd be under at least slightly better circumstances. ]

[wwrench]

Despite Wrench's silent fears to the contrary, John's hospitality has not yet seen itself to wear thin. The tall man does his best to make his goings as frequent as his staying, worrying that too much presence might expedite the other man's exhaustion with him. So far that concern has remained unfounded, but he tries to be a largely unseen figure in the shop, unless he's got cause to believe that John could use his help with something or another.

The truth is, Wrench learns a lot by observation. He might know better than to go rifling through the things the other man keeps there, but there's still plenty to explore and to wonder after, right down to the strange sigils and wards of protection that keep the place as much of a haven as anything can really be in Trench. He figures if not for John's teaching -- sometimes actively and sometimes without his knowing -- Wrench wouldn't understand half as much about this place or his strange blood physiology as he does.

Which is to say, he only understands about half of half of it. He's been more absentee than usual lately, but the strange cocoon looks like it's done something good for him. When he emerges, Wrench seems more well-rested. And his skin looks weirdly fantastic. He's been laying low for a while now, but when the flicker of the candle doesn't immediately reveal the man coming through, Wrench pulls himself off the ground in that back room and wanders through the shop.

John seems agitated when he finds him, and he stamps on the floorboards to get the man's attention before signing a very simple inquiry: What the fuck? He holds his Omni up for good measure, flashing a certain network message.

action. for savage @ the shop.

[oldhound]

( which brings us back to the hero's shoulders and a gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it. )

[ To say that John was surprised that Savage wanted a face-to-face chat would be understating it, really. He'd debated it a bit before responding. Of course, there were rules in place. He wasn't about to invite the bloke into the cabin for tea or anything.

The safest place at the moment, outside of there, was the shop. Wards were already in place for Maul and other nastier creatures that might be lurking about. Constantine is nothing if not prepared for near every scenario he can conjure up on his own. A man like him with as many enemies as he amasses in the world outside of these strange places doesn't have much choice if he wants to keep breathing. It's fairly easy to shore things up and make certain that Savage can't enter without John's say so.

He's proper enough to open the door and not try to have the conversation through the door at least. John's run into the other Zabrak before. This one seemed to be interested in cataloging just who had what strengths and weaknesses. Looking back he imagines it was to find out what kind of threat they might pose to his brother. He assumes that's also why he's here now. Not that big of a leap to have to make. ]

Hello there, chief. [ He gestures at the wards illuminating the threshold of the door and shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking a bit on his heels as he studies Savage. ] You won't mind if we start with the chinwag here, right? I'm not exactly keen on inviting just anyone in after all that rubbish on the network if you follow me.

[opress]

[While Savage had stopped himself from taking part of the network thread that involved his brother leveling threats at the three witches that had cursed him, he had most definitely been watching. There were plenty of words spoken, and most of them seemed the usual hot-blooded one would expect from being threatened. He also knew his brother would almost never level an empty threat, though so rarely his brother called on him to assist these days that he only put himself on stand-by.

However, while he didn't know the Luna witch at all, he was familiar with Willow better than he would admit - especially publicly. He also had met John Constantine twice, and his impression was that the man was capable and likely the most dangerous when it came to his brother. It wasn't personal; Savage was there to protect his family.

So after contact, he had allowed himself to be drawn to a place he wasn't familiar with as a show of mostly good faith. No matter his brother yelling and killing, no one had bothered themselves to striking out against him in revenge. He had thought that would remain a common tactic, but so far, it hadn't manifested at all for the entire length of his time while in Deerington or Trench.

While he was armed, his saberstaff remained unlit and hanging off of his belt where it normally was. He approached the shop and sensed some kind of force that was more like how witch magic felt rather than the pure Force had grown used to being aware of.

He frowned at being called 'chief', which was not a title he would ever achieve in his village or beyond. He couldn't decide if it was an insult, so he left it alone for the time being.] I don't know what a chinwag is, and I don't care to come into whatever building is behind you. You and your partners put that spell on my brother, and I let it pass. [For reasons.] Now he's broken free, and I'm sure you understand he doesn't idle threats. If he is defeated in combat, that's on him. If he defeats you in combat, that's on you.

[That was how he considered it anyway.]

action. for qrow @ the clockhouse.

[oldhound]

(  we've read the back of the book, we know what's going to happen. )

[ They have things in place in case the worst should befall any of them. As much as Constantine hates talking about these things happening to anyone he cares about, it's worse thinking on something horrible coming down on any of the kids he's taken in under his proverbial wing. He can't enumerate the number of times he's thought to pray to some celestial wank out there that whatever comes down with this comes down on him and not them.

But when does life ever give John Constantine exactly what he wants?

It's why the space between texts sits so heavy now. A weight attached to his ankles dragging him down. Another text. Nothing. They could just be finding ways to pass the time. Cabin fever was getting the best of all of them, even John and he had the option to pop out to his shop. Another text and his heart is in his throat making it hard to breathe around as he paces the floor. He's thinking of sending one more when the sinking feeling in his stomach feels like a stone finally hitting bottom. He doesn't even think hard on it once he's got his trenchcoat on.

John uses the portal technique he learned from the Zealots (much faster than his own or making use of the Lamps) to get within the wards of the Clockhouse and close enough that a quick jog takes him the rest of the way. He's not out of breath cause of the exertion so much as nerves eating at him. He raises his hand for a quick rap on the door and tries to settle himself a little as he waits. ]

action. for ozpin @ the clockhouse.

[oldhound]

( and then it's gone. makes you sad. all your friends are gone. goodbye. goodbye. )

[ John's honestly not sure where he was stopped in the daze of finding out what happened to Willow and getting out the door of the Clockhouse. His magic feels unsteady and volatile like it did in the wake when the Lucifer that was possessing Sam killed Luna in front of him. The way everything blossomed sudden and bright and was snuffed out just as quick. A magical kind of whiplash to showcase his grief. His failure.

The pit inside him is growing and it feels like it could swallow him and all the world under him. How many times? How many times is this going to happen? How many times is he going to let it happen? Resolve begins to blossom hard and cold under the buzzing of anxiety and pain. Never again, if he has his way. Never again.

John's snapped out of more ruinous thoughts by the sound of a voice that seems as though it's coming from far away and something warm pressed into his hand which he grips at reflexively. It takes a moment for him to put it all together and then he's blinking at the cup in his hand and nods by rote. ]

Ta for that. [ A brief shake of his head. ] Sorry, mate if you said something else just then I must've missed it.

[clocktowers]

[ Ozpin knows the look of a man freshly griefstricken, a man on the brink of some precipice. They do not need to discuss what was done to the morning glories out by the front door. He can pretend not to be concerned about what might be done to his tidy little private library.

Still: he knows grief and he knows chaos, and both can be helped with a pot of too-sweet tea. John blinks into awareness as Ozpin touches the hot mug to his fingers, and he offers a sad, gentle little smile with it. He returns to his seat across from John's, the two of them bracketed by old bookshelves. ]

I understand. No, I was only asking after your history with Willow. She has mentioned you many times... I am glad to finally meet, though I would never have wished for these circumstances.

She has told me a little of the magic you worked together, but I'll confess it's beyond my usual expertise.

action. for luna and peter @ their house.

[oldhound]

(  we have been very brave, we have wanted to know the worst, wanted the curtain to be lifted from our eyes. )

[ John has presence of mind enough to use the Lamps to get to where he has to go next. His mind has his feet on autopilot though they feel like they are encased in blocks of ice. There's no real outpouring of emotion. A few stray tears, sure. Nothing significant. Not yet.

He already knows what he has to do and giving in to sorrow won't fuel any of it the way he needs. There'll be a time and place for it later. Not now. By the time he gets to the door of the house Luna and Peter share he swallows thickly, uncertain of what to say to even start. Still, he knocks and waits, hands shoved deep in his trenchcoat pockets and head ducked down as he stares at the snow-covered ground. ]

[creidim]

[ There's something that stirs at the wards, but not something malicious. Luna knows it's a friend by the time she reaches the door to pull it open. She's expecting it might be someone else: maybe Ruby, or Ange, or any of their other friends. Someone dropping off supplies or such, as Luna and Peter remain on their self-imposed lockdown. Things have been quiet, but they're keeping their heads down — it'd be foolish to trust things being completely safe even after a mere ten days.

Instead she finds herself looking up at John, and there's alarm for him being out. She barely even needs to look at him to tell that something's wrong, it's clear in his face — as clear as day. Luna stares at him for a beat or two, and then inhales softly: this is not good news.

She reaches for the crook of his arm, gently tugs him inside — out from the cold, into the safety of her home. It's warm, quiet. Peter's around in the house, somewhere. Not too far away; even closer with the soft presence of him inside her head these days. ]

What's wrong—? [ She doesn't want to ask, but she has to. Her voice is hushed. ] Something's happened, hasn't it—?

action. for zari @ shop.

[oldhound]

( i'm alive but monsters are always hungry, darling, and they're only a few steps behind you, finding the flaw, the poor weld, the place where we weren't stitched up quite right. )

[ The text was simple enough: willow's dead. i'm at the shop for now. be careful if you come.. Some unspoken offer that if Zari wants to join him there she's welcome to. He knows trying to extol the dangers of getting near him currently will be lost on her. Even if John himself is absolutely rubbish company at the moment. He already sent a similar text to Herc as well but he needs to be here doing something, anything, first.

It isn't his first time planning on going up against an enemy who could best him. Won't be the last by any stretch. He can't let this go, though. If he gives ground here then who comes next? No, best to nip this in the bud before it goes any further.

He hasn't bothered with taking off his trenchcoat. In part because it's always served as a sort of armor for him in a lot of ways. He's drawing down some jars of herbs when he hears the bell over the door go and knows it's Zari before she says a word. ]

You got my message. [ Not a question. ] No trouble on the way, right?

[ More jars clink together as he sets them down. ]

[catchatting]

[ The idea of not coming is completely ridiculous. Even knowing that Willow is likely to come back, it still leaves her with a pang of pain. Willow is a sweet person and John cares about her and Zari is going to check in on her as soon as she's back. (And she has to be back. Zari refuses to think otherwise)

She pulls on a warm cloak, careful to cover herself just as well as she's keeping herself warm. There's no need to attract more danger when John's already got to be a mess and besides Zari does have a sense of self-preservation even if some people don't. She tromps her way to his shop and practically bangs the door open and then shut. ]

I'm fine.

[ And he isn't. There's no point in asking him how he is when she already knows and it's plain on her face. Her eyes are already tearing up and this isn't about her, but she can't help it. ]

John--

[ Her voice is soft and her heels click on the floor as she approaches him. If he's going to keep on shifting jars around, that is just fine, because Zari will just wrap her arms around his waste from behind and press against his back so he can still work while she hugs him if that's what he wants.

The memory of losing Behrad, not knowing if he could be brought back or not... she remembers the way that grief had felt. John had been there through it, too. He'd held her hand through it, distracted her and helped her and kept her safe against some pretty crazy odds. They both know that there is no consoling this kind of grief, but she won't leave him alone right now. He'd helped distract her and she'll do the same. ]

action. for herc @ cabin.

[oldhound]

(  i made this place for you. a place for you to love me. if this isn't the kingdom then i don't know what is. )

[ willow's dead. i'm at the shop. be home soon. The shop didn't seem to take as long as he thought it would, even with Zari stopping by to check on him. Even though he'd sent the text earlier to Herc, he has enough presence of mind to send another as he's leaving the shop.

He's got a satchel of miscellaneous magical items with him. Herbs, candles, and some other things more specific items he doesn't keep at their cabin. The heavy feeling that has settled over hasn't let up in the least. It feels just as oppressive as it did before even if his mind is clear on what needs be done.

John finds himself stopping as he gets in. Caught near the space he'd been in only days before when Willow had risked stopping by to talk to him after Maul's threatening post. Rubbing at her arms to offer support. Her words then in the midst of all that don't have the same feeling to them now as they did then: You do a pretty good job at the whole being a dad thing too.

He drags himself out of the rumination when he sees Herc come into the room, clearing his throat to get past the lump threatening. ]

Didn't expect to get in so late. Sorry.

[luckystriker]

[ Some of the tightness in Herc's face eases up on seeing it's just John and he's safe. He stares only for a second before closing the distance between them and puts a hand to John's nape, tugging him in to press the blond fool's face to his throat.

What can he say?

Absolutely nothing. All he can do is provide a quiet place to hide for a bit. ]

action. for maul. fight. feb 21st.

[oldhound]

(  we are all going forward. none of us are going back. )

find me, bastard.

[ There's a crackle of energy in the air around him. Constantine can feel it inside as well, adrenaline and power boiling under the surface. Rage but not blind. A very specific purpose. A singular target.

It's why he's moved out into a part of the less populated area. He's seen enough of the yoga pants brigade and their leveling of cities on the regular. He has no interest in bringing that down on anyone's heads. These people didn't do anything to him or Maul. What happens now is between the two of them alone.

John took the time to set wards specifically for this. Both for containment from the blowback of power and magic between them and to make sure no one else could interfere. They glitter in the dark, the snow reflecting the light but don't activate yet. They won't until Maul arrives.

Kneeling in the snow, he doesn't need to look up to see who the crunch of steps belongs to. The majority of his spellwork had been done earlier, dealing with powers more dangerous than he would generally invoke here. The time for caution is long past. He's been cautious. He's been patient. He's been downright bloody merciful. That well has dried up now.

Feeling the new yet familiar presence in the back of his mind, Constantine holds to it for a moment before his attention comes to bear on the present situation. He squeezes the cloth wrapped around his left palm, setting it stinging from where he'd cut it open for a ritual earlier. The blossoming of pain helps him focus as he shifts to stand and levels glowing ice-blue eyes on the other man. ]

Maul.

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul is not surprised in the least when the message comes in. With Willow dead, it was just a matter of time until someone retaliates. The fact it's Constantine makes complete sense. He considers for only a minute or two of trying to convince the man that it was a mistake he hadn't intended to make, that the chocolate had brainwashed him temporarily.

But he decides against it. No one will believe him, not the least of the man who has been antagonistic towards him for the past two years. Best just to meet him in combat and see what happens out there on the battlefield. This is how Maul has always solved things, so it's a solution he readily accepts to this problem.

When he arrives, there's a difference in the way Maul presents in the Force, even to a non-Force user like Constantine. He's gotten more power somehow and there's almost a miasma of it that surrounds him, like he's borrowing it from someone else who is strong in the Force. Maul is very glad he made that hostile bond forcibly with Anakin right now because he's going to need to rely on the Jedi's power to get him through this fight. His face is impassive and the only emotion to be seen on it is the usual rage that fuels Maul.]

There's nothing to say. So let's get right down to it, shall we?

[He ignites his saberstaff, ready and body all tense as he waits for Constantine to make the first move.]

wildcard.

[oldhound]

( i am singing now while rome burns. we are all just trying to be holy. )

( do you have a different route for things in mind? i’m easy, hit me up @ silkcuts for plotting. )

text | un: graham crackers

[possessum]

( It's around 3:AM (the Witching Hour, some might believe) when the message comes. Its writer is still.... slightly shaky with texting. )

witch.
are you conscious .

( ....Paimon's way of asking whether John is awake right now or not. )