Byrd Man — Roleplayer Guild

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Ultimate Comics: One Universe Application

Character You're Applying For: John Constantine 

Powers And Abilities:

John Constantine is a mage who can preform a variety of spells, though he only uses them as a last resort. His knowledge on magic, spells, curses, and the charms of the arcane is extensive bordering on encyclopedic. Constantine is also a trained magician and escape artist with abilities in sleight of hand, pickpocketing, and hypnosis. In addition to that he is a first rate conman and manipulator who once tricked the devil himself.

Origin And Backstory (Must Be A Single Paragraph Long):

John Constantine, former punk rock musician and stage-magician, now works as an actual real mage and occult detective who pulls the odd grift when needed. Using his intelligence, charisma, and immense knowledge of the occult to good use as he travels across the world in search of his next big score while occasionally having to defend mankind against the forces of evil.

What Makes This Character 'Ultimate'?:

Well, except for some tweaking of the backstory Constantine is the same in a lot of ways. I think the biggest change to the Hellblazer story and mythos is the concept of magic as something dangerous to John and people everywhere. Instead of saying he's a recovering addict from booze or drugs, I thought it would be much more interesting to say he was addicted to magic and it nearly destroyed him. I guess I would say that my thesis with Constantine isn't too much of a stretch from what other writers have done with him. The main theme I want to weave through my narrative is that magic is dangerous and unnatural. It's cheating and the toll magic takes is often not worth what it does for you. I want to juxtapose that with the idea that the choices we make are just as damning as magic can be. You don't need a spell to ruin someone's life to destroy a friendship, all that takes is one conscious decision. As far as the stories go I figure I'll have him operating all over the world doing various tasks and jobs for people. A lot of writers like to lean heavily into the Jude-Christian mythology with Constantine, but I want to stray from that and try to primarily focus on the occult.

Supporting Characters:

Ray - Owner of an occult bookstore in Los Angeles 
Epiphany Greaves - John's friend and a member of the "Good People", LA's shadow community.
Chas Chandler - A friend of John's from England, a driver by trade who helps John out when he can.
Jack Hawksmoor - God of the Cities 
Lucifer - Former ruler of Hell. Now owns and operates Lux, a piano bar in LA
Detective Charles "Charlie" Rembrandt - LAPD officer who comes to John with help.
Papa Midnite - Voodoo Priest and New Orleans mob boss
Morpheus - King of Dreams, one of the Seven Endless

Sample Post:

For my next trick I'll need a volunteer from the audience.

How about you? Yes, you. Step right up and don't be shy. Your name? Lovely. Now, I have in my hands a simple deck of cards. Watch my hands as I fan through them and you can tell this is an ordinary deck, yes? Here, take it and examine it. Looks good? Good. Now pick a card, pick any card. Hold it up for the audience to see while I turn away. A bit higher, there you go. Good. Memorize it and place it back into the deck. Excellent. While I shuffle the deck I want you to picture something in your mind's eye. Think about the best day of your life. It could be a birthday, that day you won the jackpot with a scratchy, your wedding day, the day your children were born, or just a day you got an extra order of fries. Doesn't make a sod bit of difference what day it was, just recapture that feeling. That feeling of triumph and utter achievement. Have you got that? Good. Stay focused on it for a few more seconds.

Now do us a favor and focus on something else. Focus on the best booze you've ever drank, or the best coke you've ever snorted, or even the best sex you've ever had. Take that highest of highs, couple it with the best day of your life and multiply those feelings a thousandfold. The end result, that orgasmic accomplishment that makes you feel like the biggest swinging dick in the world, that's the feeling that magic does to you. No, I don't mean that 'watch me pull a rabbit out of me hat' bollocks they pass off as magic on telly. I mean elemental magic. Chaos magic. Magick with a K. I mean the type of magic that can make beautiful people fall madly in love with you and make your enemies blood boil. Magic gives you the power to make all your hopes and wishes happen in the blink of an eye. You can go anywhere, you can be anything. People begin to fear you. It makes you feel unstoppable, makes you think you're a god. Now, I mentioned blow and booze earlier for a reason. Magic is just as intoxicating as that speedball or that fantastic piece of gash. Like those two examples, magic comes with a price. And it's a terrible price. It can hollow your insides out until you're nothing but a dried up husk that threatens to blow away under a stiff breeze. I've seen two-bit mages literally try to sell their souls for just a little bit more power. Once upon a time I was one of them.

Me old man was a machinist. He welded and worked a lathe but he wouldn't fuck with electrical problems on anything, regardless if it was a blown transformer or a circuit breaker. He always said that he knew enough about electricity to know he didn't want to fuck with it. He was a fucking wanker, but I think his thoughts sum it up pretty nicely. Every spell, every charm or hex or incantation, requires a sacrifice of some sort. There's always a price to pay somewhere down the line. I was too far down that road before I realized that truth. Now I know enough about magic to not fuck with, so I keep the meter running and keep moving. Best case scenario is I'll be in Hell where I belong before that bill comes due. And here we have the three of spades. Was that your card? How did I do that? Have you been listening to a fucking word I said, mate? I'm magic.

---

Brighton Beach
Brooklyn

Dimitri Tsonovich sipped mineral water and watched the front door anxiously. It was late, nearly four in the morning, and his men were due back at any moment. The water was disgusting but he needed something to do with his hands to keep him busy. What he really needed was vodka, but he needed to be sober for what was coming next. A loud thump echoed from inside the house, followed by a muffle screamed. Dimitri shuddered and made the sign of the cross. He had never been religious growing up, religion hadn't been encouraged in the Soviet Union, and he remained absent of faith when he came to America. In his business one tended to be jaded about God and right and wrong.

The front door opened suddenly and his three men came through, holding a struggling man between them. Their quarry cursed and yelled through the black clothed hood on his head while the three heavies set him on the floor on his knees. Dimitri looked at his men and nodded softly. The hood was ripped from the man's face. The scowling face of John Constantine blinked two or three times before looking up and seeing Dimitri.

"Dimitri Tsonovich," Constantine said in his thick Northern English accent. "Long time no see, mate."

"You seem to be doing well for yourself," Constantine added as he looked around the expansive living room. "What is it the papers call you now, the Godfather of Russian Organized Crime or some bollocks? You've come a long way from Mikhail's bodyguard whom he called simple and good for---"

Dimitri slapped Constantine hard across the side of the face. The Englishman spat blood on the hardwood floor, something that earned him another backhanded slap from the Russian. Constantine smiled a bloody smile up at his assailant.

"You stole two hundred thousand dollars from me," Dimitri said matter-of-factly. "Two hundred thousand dollars from anyone else and you are dead with your dick cut off and stuffed in your mouth. I forgive the money. After all, is only two hundred thousand. I make that in a few days. I forgive because I know all about what you can do, John Constantine. You have your uses, I see that. One day you may be able to help me. So, I--"

Another thump and moan from inside the house stopped Dimitri from continuing. Constantine arched an eyebrow and smiled wider at the man. Cursing in his native tongue, Dimitri snapped his fingers and his men shoved Constantine back on his feet and herded him through the large house towards a back room. They pushed him through the door after their boss went through. Constantine's wide smile disappeared from his face when he entered the room.

Tied to the bed was a teenage girl. Her long back hair covered her sweaty face as she shook and writhed on the bed. She wore a pair of plaid pajamas that were stained with vomit on the chest. Although she looked like a teenage girl, the guttural sounds she made in her throat were deep and hoarse. The girl's struggling stopped almost as soon as Constantine entered.

"There's someone here," she said in that deep voice. Her head snapped up and a pair of fiery red eyes locked with Constantine. "John Constantine! The man the Pit spat back out."

"My reputation proceeds itself," he said with a wink.

"Your fucking father takes it up the ass in Hell!"

"I fucking hope so! He has it coming."

"Three days she is like this," Dimitri said as the girl went back to thrashing. "You will fix my daughter. This is your job, Constantine. You will fix her or I will do what I said earlier, shoot you in the head and shove your own severed dick in your mouth."

Constantine looked at the thrashing possessed girl, then to her crime lord father. He weighed his options and scratched his neck before checking his coat pocket.

"I need four things. I need holy water, a clove of garlic, white chalk, and a pack of Silk Cut from around the corner shop. It's been so long since I've done an exorcism."


Post Catalogue

"Welcome to the Jungle"

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Epilogue

"Hooray for Hollywood"

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"Who Shot Ya?"

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"London Calling"

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INTERLUDE
"After You've Gone"

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FINALE
"War Pigs"
Co-Written with Simple Unicycle

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3. (Written by Simple Unicyle)
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6. (Written by Simple Unicycle)
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8. (Written by Simple Unicycle)
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10. (Written by Simple Unicycle)
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12. (Written by Simple Unicycle)

Season Ending Montage:
"California Dreamin'
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