[u][i]John Constantine: [b]Hellblazer[/b][/i][/u]
[u][i]Chapter 1, III[/i][/u]

[i]Gotham[/i]. You could smell it from the air. It had invaded John's senses even before the passenger jet had touched down, and now, packed into a tram car, piss and beer soaking a vacant cushion, the sweat of labour-men creating a thick musk, and paint fumes giving everyone a free buzz, he could tell you that Gotham stank. Even without his Other Sight, John could feel that stench, the basic corruption of the everyman sloughing off the citizens. There were no innocents in Gotham. It was not a place men with clean hands lived in; it was not a place men with clean hands visited. Constantine and his half-breed companion belonged here - John could feel the city beckoning with oozing claws, beckoning to him. Leave Chicago. Come to Gotham. Wade amongst the filth. John resisted. The black stain on his soul would grow for each day he remained until it was all that was left of him. Constantine belonged in Gotham, but he didn't belong to Gotham. Hopefully, he never would. He'd seen what this city could do to people. What it had done to people. Good people, just trying to help. Gotham did the same thing to those people that John did. The tram stopped, the doors hissed, and John stepped out onto the monorail platform. Zee followed him. Downtown. Zatanna should be here. 

[color=9e0b0f]"Downtown?"[/color] Zee asked, incredulity on the edge of his voice. Getting braver, John thought. [color=9e0b0f]"No houses down here - none that anyone would want to live in, at least. Why downtown?"[/color]
John smiled as they walked through the bustling crowds that haunted the sidewalks. 
[color=a36209]"Downtown's entertainment. And entertainment has...stages."[/color] John finished his sentence as he stopped in front of a theatre, ticket booth swathed in red light and gold paint that had recently been re-painted. On the side walls of the lobby were posters - a couple plays, a singing act, and a magician. The best magic act in Gotham - probably because it wasn't an act. Zatanna Zatara, Sorceress Extraordinaire, come to dazzle Gotham with her magic and her smile. A large 'SOLD OUT' banner had been pasted across the poster beneath its frame. John wasn't surprised. He'd seen her abilities first-hand; socery of that caliber impressed, and combined with a good amount of showmanship and a subtle, magical, implantation of joy and wonder, it was guaranteed that recommendation would spread like a virus. The theatre was happy, Zatanna was happy, and the people were happy. And then in came John.
[color=a36209]"Come on. We'll use the stage door."[/color]

Backstage. John hadn't been here in a long time; he hadn't needed money that bad. These days he made do on magic, theft, and what he got from taking cases. Sure, he'd saved England - maybe the world - a couple times, but in secret. Truly, the worst way to save the planet. Up front and glorious, like the blue-and-red in Metropolis. What a bloody lark-about. Down here, in the real world, with the real people and the real problems, it got real dark, and real deadly. Magic was wonderful, but it was dangerous, and it corrupted. It corrupted easily. John walked that line every day, and even though he hadn't fallen yet, he still had a dark taint on him, where he'd had to let it in, open himself up to black hands. Magic. It got everybody. 

They'd gotten to the dressing room before being stopped, and John was surprised it had taken that long. 
"Hey, trenchcoat! Staff and stars only back here, bud. You an' greasy there gotta go." Some burly bouncer with a teeshirt and no hair. Gotham's finest, clearly. Not on mob payroll, though John could feel a loose connection. Freelance enforcer, most likely. Repo. Punishment. Physical jobs, nothing that required thought. Outmaneuver this one, then.
[color=a36209]"Staff or star? Take your pick, mate. I'm a colleague of Zatanna's. Magician myself. Part of the club - magical elite, we are. [i]Worldwide[/i]. Come to chat about an enterprisin' opportunity. All very hush-hush, just the way we are I suppose, but [b]generous [/b]folk."[/color] John spoke fast and friendly, putting on a cockney accent to endear himself - it worked, don't ask him why- and he noticed the attention when he got to 'generous'. A button to push. Easy. [color=a36209]"So look, we have our little chat, talk some business - [i]league [/i]business - you get paid off for silence and bob's your uncle, I'm gone, my assistant with me, and everyone's happy and with fatter pockets. Alright, lad?"[/color]
The bouncer paused, catching up with Constantine's fast speech. Zee himself was a little lost. A moment passed and John felt something in the air click. The bouncer nodded sharply. John smirked. Easy peasy. 
[color=a36209]"Atta boy. Look, we'll wait in Z's dressing room and you jus' let her know a guildmate's waiting for her. Can't be long 'til her intermission I'm imagining. Me and Zatanna go waaaaay back, so it'll be no trouble."[/color] John flashed a smile, but the bouncer wasn't looking at him - he was looking past him, over her shoulder. John felt her before he heard her. [i]Shit[/i].

[b][color=92278f]"JOHN CONSTANTINE."[/color][/b] Zatanna yelled, and John heard her stomp down the stairs. He pictured those heels, the fishnet tights, the leotard with the blazer and the top hat, and savoured the image before he turned and faced an extremely angry, incredibly powerful mage who he never managed to enjoy the company of without either fucking something up or letting people die. He gulped. Her face was fury. She wasn't even wearing the top hat. 
[color=92278f]"Where the [i]fuck [/i]do you get off showing up here? Hobbs, toss them. Him [b]and[/b] his greasy 'assistant'."[/color] Zatanna saw through the glamour too - you couldn't help it when you wielded magic like she and John did. He was half-surprised she hadn't smited him on the spot. She might have done if the bouncer hadn't been there to witness. Speaking of which...

John felt heavy hands fall on his shoulders. Hobbs, what a name. The hand clenched and there was pain in John's shoulder as he squeezed the muscle and the bone underneath, forcibly steering John toward the door he'd come in by. John thought fast.
[color=a36209]"Zatanna, come on! I need your [i]help[/i]!"[/color]
[color=92278f]"You [i]always [/i]need help, Constantine, and [i]every [/i]time you fuck things up. I'm [i]done [/i]with helping you, and I'm done with your [i]fucking [/i]crusades."[/color]
[color=a36209]"This is [b]serious[/b]!"[/color]
[color=92278f]"It's [i]always [/i]serious, every fucking time it's [b]serious[/b]. People's safety is serious, John. People's [i]lives [/i]are serious."[/color]
[color=a36209]"This is different. This isn't [i]like [/i]that! This is [b]redemption[/b]!"[/color] John frantically tried to weave magic to stop Hobbs, desperately trying to reason with Zatanna.
[color=92278f]"You might be the greatest conman alive, but I'm a [i]Zatara[/i], and you've fooled me enough times already."[/color]
[color=a36209]"It's about [b]ASTRA[/b]!"[/color] John yelled, finally giving in. [color=a36209]"I've [i]FOUND [/i]her!"[/color]

[color=92278f]"Stop."[/color] Zatanna said, quiet but powerful. Hobbs stopped. John's heart beat in his throat. [color=92278f]"Let go."[/color] John felt the pressure ease on his shoulders, and then disappear completely. [color=92278f]"Leave."[/color] Hobbs left. John turned, and Zatanna's furious gaze burnt through him.
[color=92278f]"Come with me."[/color]
There was no disobeying. John would have followed even if Zatanna didn't outclass him in sorcery.