Roman — Roleplayer Guild

John Constantine: Hellblazer
Chapter 1, II

"Hey, watch it asshole."
John flipped the bird with one hand as the other pulled him out of the cab by the top of the cab door that he'd opened into the bustling pavement outside his office building. A cigarette drooped lazily from his mouth, smoke drifting upwards past his eyes. Through it, the world seemed hazy, like a cheap glamour bought from some back-alley wannabe-witch, more a distraction than a disguise. John felt like he could wave away the smoke, dispel it with a mere twitch of his head, and wipe away the distraction, let him focus on the world once again. Maybe it would all melt away and he'd wake up, the last two decades of his life all one bad dream, trauma after trauma all revealed as some terrible nightmare. No Ravenscar, no Rosacarnis, no First. No Astra. Just a simple wave, and they never would have met. She'd be happy. She'd be alive. Just like so many others...

"This is where you work?" Said Zee from the other side of the cab, snapping Constantine out of his self-pity. He turned, frowning.
"Work out of. There's a difference. I do my work out there." He replied, gesturing toward the rest of Chicago that lay beyond the buildings, and the world that lay beyond Chicago. "Done a lot of overseas shit, too..." Back home, across the pond. No going back now.
"If you say so." Zee said, and closed the door, walking around the car to stand beside John. John closed his door, taking a step to the side and leaning down to talk to Chas through the passenger-side front window.

"This one's gonna take a while, Chas, and I'll be moving further than your crappy old wheels could take me."
"Bite me, John. My crappy old wheels have taken you three times around the world, all the running around after you I do."
"You wouldn't have it any other way, chum." John said, smiling a crooked, self-aware smile. He tapped his fag out and took a final drag before throwing it onto the road. "But I'm serious. Probably take planes on this one. Call in some favours."
"You got people left for favours?"
"I got a couple."
"Whatever suits you then, John. Least I'll get paying customers."

John grinned and stood up, banging twice on the roof of Chas' cab before he drove away, tires squealing. "I swear, even if I don't get him killed, his driving will." John muttered. Zee half-nodded, not really caring, but listening nonetheless. They turned and walked toward the building. 

One short elevator ride later, they were stood outside John's office. John unlocked the door with a key he pulled from some depth of his coat, and stepped inside. Zee tried to step in after him, but John quickly put up a hand square to his chest, stopping him in his tracks just outside of the threshold.
"I wouldn't, if I were you." John said calmly, motioning to the door-frame. Zee looked, and he could see it now; runes, carvings, sigils. All wards, a line of defense. Marks like those would strip his glamour bare - and then some. "Probably best to just wait here. Won't be one second." Zee glared, but acquiesced. He couldn't follow even if he wanted to.

Inside the office, John went immediately to his desk, flicking through a small diary that lay on the side of the wooden surface. Numbers were what he was looking for, addresses, contacts. How many friends did he have left? How many enemies? The latter were far easier to make. He wasn't good at keeping the former.
"Etrigan...Fate...Strange...Ah! Z!"
"Yeah?" Came the half-breed voice from beyond the door.
"Not you, the letter. An old..." John hesitated on 'friend'. They'd been more, once. A long time ago... "...acquaintance. A colleague of sorts."
"Useful, then?" Zee asked, his call growing quieter with each syllable as Constantine came hurrying out of the office, holding a scrap of paper in one hand as he locked the room with the other, the key disappearing again.
"We'll see. She was involved in the relevant..." again, John paused on the word. He didn't know how much he wanted to impart on Zee. The half-breed was still uneasy to him. "...incident. She'll be as much help as anyone else. Phone, please." Constantine held his hand out, and Zee dutifully pushed a cell into it. John dialed, and held it up to his ear, walking toward the stairs as it rang. It picked up as they descended.

"Zatanna!" John said, his voice bumpy as he trod down steps. "Oh come off it, you know who it is...yeah. Yeah! No, I'm not dead...yeah, that is a shame. Been there though! Yeah. Uh-huh. Probably should have stayed, you're right. Look, I'm - yeah. Yeah I know I always am, but it fi- yes. Yes. No! No, that wasn't me. Yeah. Uh-huh. I know. Demons are good at lookalikes you know, love. No. Yes, he was bits of me. Yeah. Bad bits! Uh-huh. That was years ago! Three. Yes, three! You're right, I should have waited longer. She was my sister! My sister. Zatanna, come on. Yes. It's okay. Yeah. Look they were only technically - yeah. Yes, a lot of people. That kind of happens when demons get involved. Yes. Or me, you're right. Okay. Look if you could ju-"

"Any success?" Zee asked. Constantine's turn to glare.
"She hung up."
"Ah."
"S'alright though. She forgets how sharp I am."
"How so?"
"Magic, Zee. You know someone's name, you can know pretty much anything about them. Keep her talking, weave some bullshit, and you figure out she's in Gotham."
"Awful."
"Definitely. But useful. C'mon. Next plane's in three hours, and I need a new pack of fags."
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