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tampered2006-11-25 01:51 am
bitingnightmare.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-11-25 01:51 am
Log; Complete (1/2)
When; Nov. 20 (evening)
Rating; R (language, violence)
Characters; John Constantine (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silkcutremix), the Corinthian (bitingnightmare)
Summary; the magician and nightmare go on the hunt for one last chance at reclaiming Constantine's shape
Log;
John already knew the shit had yet to end when he saw that damned skull face at the bottom of his glass. The horns, antlers were unmistakable. Still, he reminded himself that he might as well have been seeing things and it was only an effect of being Cori, although he doubted that Cori had seen things that did not quite exist here in the waking world and would not mention them. Both of them had their own shit though.
The Great Horned Wanker, however, was still his concern. The switched body obviously did not fool him.
Setting the glass down on the remaining table in the studio, that skull flickered along the shine once again. Constantine furrowed his brow. "How did you get through the wards then..."
---
Cori had been sitting on the couch, back to the sofa arm so his not-quite-legs could stretch out. He held a cigarette in one human hand, having learned how to smoke it sometime during the long.... very long curse day. It had to be a curse, considering what the rest of the people on the terminal were bitching about, it would pass in time. Not to say he thought living in the beast's shape unbearable of course, it was the fact that he wasn't in his own body, that night terror wasn't his to control until midnight. Bah, he puffed on a Mild Seven.
"What's up," he asked John without looking to him, having heard that remark.
---
"Something," muttered John the nightmare, catching sight of himself and his shades in the reflection. The skull had left once again, trying to piss him off or something no doubt; he had done the same to him their last, first encounter. He stood up.
Being the Corinthian hadn't been a terrible experience once he got over the strange sensation of having two pairs of teeth behind his eyelids. He could smoke through them, talk through them, eat through them, everything his mouth could do really. Too bad he had yet to find anything terribly useful for them besides conversing with himself or drinking through his eyes as a cheap party trick, but even that was dubious since he would have given all of them instant nightmares. There was duty to this body as well but sod it all if he wanted any part of it. All this better not last more than a day; he did not want to shoulder whatever shit Cori had to do that required his body's abilities. He couldn't do it if just because he was not created to.
Fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he made his way to the infamous bathroom to take a piss, or something. He needed to get away now, from the faces that begged his attention if that was what they really wanted. He doubted it.
---
This time the not-quite-nightmare looked up, for probably the first time in his life experiencing the other side of the coin. Sure he could look into peoples' eyes now, but not his own, neither did he want a taste of his own medicine nor make John endure his function. He exhaled through that long boney snout.
"What's that," he asked the magus, expecting some kind of explanation, but it seemed he chose to just walk off for a piss. Better take care of those damn piercings, Cori thought to himself.
---
John did not catch that part. Maybe he was lucky, or maybe he was even just a little bit envious of the fact that Cori could easily articulate himself from that snout and he had to struggle, but the fact that he was a conman and not a shapeshifter had long since been made apparent.
And looking down to see a pierced cock, his pieced cock, was another thing entirely. He was not a stranger to piercings but never did he have a piercing there. There was the temptation to play with it, if just to get an idea of what it felt like on Cori's end. The thought was beginning to turn him on...
A sharp voice ancient and old with a tone eons deep rippled along the yellow water the moment his fingers danced along his cockhead. "Constantine..."
As if his member had gone suddenly hot, his hand jerked away, stumbling back from that fucking face in the toilet bowl. Aw, bugger. He had yet to start and already he was caught potentially masturbating.
---
Call it the advantage of being a dream, one who had shapeshifted himself in many a nightmare, and there was that ancient heritage even the Corinthian didn't know about that connected him to the being who'd crafted this body for Constantine. He really did prefer his own pierced cock though. Cori had half a mind to spy on the man in the bathroom just to make sure he wasn't fiddling with the frenum bar in an unsafe manner.
What was that about always getting caught with his cock in his hands? The nightbeast would have arched an eyebrow if his skull weren’t so stiff. He sat up straight, hearing a minor commotion in the bathroom, but remained on the couch for now. Listening.
---
Constantine had backed up into the massive figure of heroic Grecian proportions, the tanned taut flesh bare except for a loincloth. He whirled around, knowing there was no way that could be just the wall, finding the Daedra Prince that had walked into his dreams with teeth and wolves not too long ago. The eyes were only holes and the spear ever so sharp.
"Constantine. Perhaps you may reconsider renouncing your Kinship with me, the Prince of the Hunt."
"Don't know you. Want nothing to do with you, mate. Piss off, everything is under control."
"You are incorrect," snarled the Prince. "That is where you are horribly wrong, and in turn you have wronged and insulted me. It is seldom that one is worthy to survive a hunt performed by one of my own children that decides who is fit to join my Hounds and who is fit to only be Hunted. I cannot deny your reputation. Seldom I am pleased by the addition of the likes of you to my Pack. Beware, Constantine, for my wrath is great. "
"Great. Whose wrath isn't? Convince me why I shouldn't take you as another prat who thinks he can push me and wank me around because I'm a soddin' Constantine, eh?"
"Do you think being switched to that body was a coincidence, or perhaps I might have had some influence? The City will right itself in time, but you and your friend will not. The Kinship between he and I fades as his immortal body purges itself slowly of its sickness. I used what remains of his Kinship to lock your shapes. "
"You did what."
"You will not return to your old body, Constantine. Forever, if you dare wish to be sure of your foolish mistake, I shall dedicate myself to the pursuit of you, in that immortal form for that I may enjoy the thrill of hunting prey so cunning, so clever for many centuries to come, never to cease, through eternity and beyond. "
"You're fucking kidding me."
"Not unless you redeem yourself through the way of the Hunt. " The spear glimmered. "Listen, Constantine, and listen to me well: Should you complete your task, you shall be restored back to your old body, your old human shape. You will have control over your lupine self, but you shall serve as one of my Hounds every full moon period for as long as you are my Child. You are aware of the gifts of lycanthropy, the potential it could bring to you, man or beast…"
All three sets of teeth were grit. What other choice did he have? Had no immediate cure to his disease now, perhaps ever. The first transformation had doomed him. "Shoot. What do you want?"
---
Now things were getting a little weird, he could hear John talking, wasn't so sure if there was a second voice involved. It translated like static in his mind, the source something not from the city or the waking world. He approached the bathroom carefully, rapped his knuckles on the door.
"You okay in there," the Corinthian asked, suspicious of this situation. It didn't feel like one of the city's tricks this time.
---
"Beautiful!" Constantine had shouted to the other side of the door. Of course Cori would be concerned by now. He had been taking a little long and perhaps conversing with himself a little too loud.
"This is your task, Constantine, " Hircine went on as if the Corinthian, the demon Corinthian, were not outside there, allowing him to be Constantine's problem. "Remember: One of my Children has been growing unruly and disrespectful to me and her gifts. I find her a danger to my interests of preservation and I wish to test your own worthiness by cleansing this world of one that does not deserve my Kinship. With what I have offered you, would this be an acceptable alternative to the many deaths that otherwise await you."
"Details. (I'm alright, Cori! Moment!)"
"All my Children are different, Constantine, and not one of them is alike. Realize that there are breeds beyond that of the Wolf. The one you seek is among those who are not Wolves. Constantine, the skin you wear is an adept hunter and killer. I shall allow you to utilize its and your tracking abilities to its fullest extent to seek the offending Child out and dispatch of her.
"May your senses lead you to a Sade, a vicious werehyena of my greatest contempt. You will have two days, Constantine, to complete your task, before my own Hunt begins. Farewell."
Before John could say anything else, Hircine had disappeared, allowing him then to face the ex-nightmare creature outside. The door was unlocked, should he want to have a peek without the other's permission for the sake of his tendency to hide pressing matters and keep them to himself.
---
Lies. The Corinthian's expression flattened, or rather it did in his mind but his skull-face was unchanged. The shadows under the door were too wide to be those of John alone, or was the demon nightmare seeing things? He gave the door knob a little twist, pushed it open just slightly despite the man's reassurances. It wasn't that he didn't trust John! He just didn't trust John when he could detect the scent of a big fat lie. However it seemed the magus was telling the truth this time.
"Are you talking through my eyes again," Cori asked with mild annoyance now that his worry had subsided.
---
"Been bloody practicing. Convincing, innit?" John pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the weight of the task at hand. Scrying this Sade out wouldn't be a problem, but trying to fight her? Bloody hell, that was another matter entirely. No wonder he had been transplanted to the Corinthian's body; he would be needing that immortality bit.
---
"I guess," needless to say Cori wasn't amused. His body wasn't a bright and shiny new toy, well.... in some situations it was but not the daily one! He opened his beak to say more but felt a twist in his chest, something burned in his blood briefly. Demonic red eyes glanced aside a moment. "Nn," the nightbeast sounded to the other before returning to the couch.
---
That was a little odd. It was Constantine's turn to give the nightbeast a funny look, following him out of the bathroom (but not forgetting to wash). He didn't feel so intent on drinking now; time to figure out a decent scrying spell that'd work with only a name and flavor of poison attached to it.
"Now what's your problem?"
---
"Nothing," said the Corinthian, feeling a little inflammation of his tongue. "You break it you buy it, and all that," he waved a beastly hand at John, convinced the magus was too enthralled with his new body for it to be any other matter, or maybe Cori was trying to keep his temperature down. He closed the trench coat tighter around his strange hybrid figure and reclaimed his seat on the couch.
---
Break it and buy it indeed. Sigh, with a werehyena, wereanything, there was going to be a lot of breaking involved. How should he say it?
"You know, it doesn't matter where I go, location or flesh 'n' all that, but the creeps seem to keep on finding me, no matter how many bloody wards I throw up and around the place."
---
"What happened," he asked John again. Damnit he knew the man was hiding something, though in this demonic form the Corinthian could do little more beyond a nasty bite. The nightmare gaze belonged to the magus for now. His red gaze drifted to the pack of Mild Sevens on the table with the laptop.
---
"Visitor in the bathroom. Think he got in because of the soddin' lycanthropy." John went for a Silkcut, regardless if the nightmare, sort of, complained or not. "Basically said I have two days to go kill a bitchy werehyena or end up getting impaled on his spear like a good sport for the rest of eternity and all that bollocks.
"So what's eating you?"
---
He refrained from grabbing a cancer stick himself, wouldn't help soothe the burn even if it might give him temporary peace of mind. Cori turned to the shaded nightmare magician, ignoring the man's other question.
"You've got to be kidding me," he said with a shake of that skullhead. Hm, funny how he had a little skull embedded in his normal form but in this one the boney face was on the outside. "What're you going to do about it," asked the Corinthian, keeping the focus on John for the time being.
---
"What can I do about it? Finding a werehyena shouldn't be too tough. Just can't fight her head on s'all." Smoke drifted in streams from all three mouths.
---
The burn had been on and off since the morning, nothing great enough for the Corinthian to make note of it, but consistent enough to be annoying. He shook his head again, werehyenas, gods of the hunt, was that the kind of life John Constantine normally led? And for a moment he noticed how queer it was to see himself smoking through all three eyes. They were fortunate that the magus hadn't inherited his... appetite.
"So take a gun, we'll shoot her face off," suggested the nightbeast, assuming this could be a team effort.
---
"Sounds about right then." John stopped, then shook his head. "Aw, hell. You're bloody kidding me, mate. There has to be a catch with the Great Horned Wanker sending me after that particular one. I'm sure walking up with a gun and a few silver bullets would be nothing new on her."
---
"A real big gun, buckshots," he suggested to John with what should have been a smirk on his toothy demonic face. But, this was a serious matter as well, so he raised a hand and gestured to the Englishman's new face. "... Don't tell me this was all planned," and definitely not by John himself lest he learn how quickly Cori could adapt to those crocodilian jaws.
---
"Planned? There is biting her and then there is..." *... letting her have a look.*
Say, this might not have been as bad as he had previously thought; the thing that would make this ordeal so much easier was right behind his shades. If only those eyeteeth could grin.
---
Those eyeteeth could grin, smirk, and snarl like anyone else's mouth. For the Corinthian such expressions were wielded with ease, John on the other hand might need help, not with speaking through them as he so graciously showed off but rather with the look. His own red gaze became serious despite the cocky tone in the other's suggestion.
"It'd work, if you can get the hang of it," said the nightbeast.
---
"What do you mean?" John had yet to learn that his eyes could emote, even if it would be pointless, something done for his own satisfaction as no one else could look on them safely.
---
A shame then if it meant John could never see his teetheyes smile in his own body.
"It's not easy," being me, which the Corinthian would never dare say because of his own pride. "But it's not something you can practice either," he admitted to the Englishman. In the case of the werehyena it was sort of do or die wasn't it, a matter of employing the right tactics, and John here was a natural conman.
---
Indeed, it would be a matter of the right place at the right time; John had the abilities and tools. "Forgot where the School of Nightmaring was anyway," was the offhanded remark as John gazed thoughtfully at his drink for a moment. Already he had a simple scrying spell in mind...
---
Cognitive dissonance wasn't really her game but who was she to deny what genetics gave her? Sade was a heart crusher, a man eater by no other name. Her cruelty bled from the stilettos under her heels to the deep plum lipstick on her smirk. Her kind hated her for her natural beauty, and even more so they hated how much fortune it brought to her doorstep. The woman of dusky tan skin and long dark chocolate waves smiled to the stranger at the end of the bartop, a place called Diamond Dogs in the underground where ladies like her weren't supposed to tread. The poor man's goal was discovering whether she wore satin or lace under that blood red dress, her goal was dinner.
---
Couldn't keep Constantine out of a nun's knickers, certainly couldn't keep him from tracking down something like a werehyena. He gave the place a look before he entered: Diamond Dogs. Never heard of it, but he was a stranger to the Underground. Shouldn't be too long until he established a reputation there, outside of being that poor humiliated bastard trying to cling to a long since passed fame and reputation. He shook the notion from his head.
"Come on," he said to his lanky companion, greeted by the breath of corruption, beasts and lust. "Sure you'll be right at home here."
---
Too bad any reputation he might establish or otherwise sully tonight was the Corinthian's. The nightmare in the demon's skin wandered into the establishment, cloaked in trench coat 'like a damn flasher' he'd said before they left. Better than nothing of course, and if John should ruin his image, well someone was going to be scratching his balls in public. Yeah that was a great way for a Constantine to jump-start his legend in the underground.
Cori didn't speak when they walked into the bar, it sort of gave him a taste of how Matthew felt whenever they walked the waking world together. Sometimes it was just better to keep their mouths shut.
Sade had slinked towards the random stranger, eager to sink her claws into him and later her teeth. The heavy scent of oranges and pomegranates graced her skin, sort of a necessary evil considering the alternative of going au naturel.
---
John had etched the name "Sade" into his palm, dragging one's finger across the wounds evoking images of black spots on brown fur and the lash of sharp angry teeth. The little mark would pulse should he have approached the supposed quarry. Its range was dubious, but already he could feel a little slow tremble thump along in there. His spell wasn't off after all; she was here.
"She's close," he muttered. "In here somewhere. Look, you can smell shite, can't you? I've been around before. Seen werewolves but not werehyenas. Heard they're nasty little cunts, but smell godawful. See if you can pick up anyone odd."
Easier said than done. The lycanthropic virus was almost completely out of Cori's system, as well as any benefits to the senses that came with it. Should Constantine have been in his own body with its acute nose, he would have picked up the faint musks of other werebeasts of all species snug away in their human forms.
---
“I can but don’t have a clue where it’s coming from,” said the nightbeast who picked up all kinds of strange scents, but they were twisting and turning through each other. “Odd at 9 o’clock,” he hissed to the magus.
The Corinthian was referring to the high class fox practically dipping her ample cleavage into the man’s drink. She was a few zeros above his income and neither was he a handsome buck upon which a lass like her could take pity. The man was approaching 50 and lacked the Constantine youth gene, his girth bulged at the belt, just meaty enough to last her a week or more because Sade didn’t share. The only thing on the man’s mind was getting his meat between her thighs.
---
Well, that explained the quickening beat of the sigil. John studied the "odd," finding the said fox. She was a stunning one at that, but at his age, he knew better, especially if Hircine, big, ol' mighty Hircine with his bleedin' spear and antlers and all, wanted this particular bint picked off. Looked like any other that seduced whoever she wanted, but that was not just the predatory nature of beasts but women.
No time to linger on it all, John had to decide on a plan of attack quickly, the nightmare Englishman sauntering up to the bar near the scene, casually waving the barkeep over for a drink. Something usual tonight. Settled the nerves.
---
Yeah take his young handsome body swaggering up to the bar like that. As the night wore on Cori was beginning to find this curse unfair. At least let him have the Englishman's body to prey upon John and in turn er.... himself. Well man eating thoughts aside, the demon creature followed the other on his awkward hands.
Hmm, Grade A meat approaching, but too muscled for Sade's taste. She wanted to bury her muzzle in soft moist flesh, taste the padded organs in the man's rotund torso, of course no one ever said she couldn't take two at once. The woman shifted her gaze to the white-blonde under smoky lids before returning her attention to the midlife crisis. She purred something inaudible into the man's ear.
"Good luck," the Corinthian muttered to John. Aw come on, did he have to show off his ability to slurp a pint?
---
The brief gaze fluttered along John. Good thing that she noticed her. Would make things easier for one. Subconsciously he adjusted his shades, knowing the whole matter would be pulling her aside, flashing those teeth and in turn, well, things would be in his favor, wouldn't it? This was just the hard part...
John downed the Guinness with that practiced way of drinking stout in order to enjoy its thick flavor to the fullest, white and black sliding down his throat. Helped the image too. Some people had a thing for Englishmen, Irishmen, and hell, just Europeans over the supposedly ordinary ol' Americans... Or Japanese. Whatever happened to be the dominant sort around here. Couldn't turn down that accent, even if it was Cori's voice (Wonder what people thought of his resident "pet" demon).
Come to think of it, Sade did show some interest in him. He could afford to break the ice.
"Oy! Barkeep! Get us a drink for this lovely bird 'ere, eh?"
---
The Corinthian hadn't spoken in his English accent since the second World War so hearing it from John's side was a piece of nostalgia. Too bad he couldn't enjoy it, acting the part of pet demon and all. Since his own red gaze looked like a glare all the time it really didn't mean much to stare at the pint of Guinny so hard.
Hmm, calling was he? She smelled something positively predatory about the white haired man, a worthy challenge to be certain, and even more so a worthy breeder. Sade pressed her cheek to the stranger and slipped a single card into his breast pocket before sauntering down the bar. She stopped beside the pair, hand on the edge of the counter as her dark tawny eyes studied him from head to toe and up again. The woman smirked then nodded to the tender.
"A midori," she ordered, her voice warm and sultry.
---
The voice thrilled along Constantine's nerves as she approached with the air of a slinking beast, away from that other bloke, to him, those eyes studied and with a hunger he felt.
Go on. Size me up. Bite.
"Great stuff that. You a regular?"
---
The Corinthian was noticing the exchange between the two, almost certain that John was considering that horribly indecent act, indecent not because of some sense of monogamy but for the fact that he was still in his body. Now that was a nightmare.
"Not really, but I make a note of the landscape," Sade said to the man, lowering her gaze to waist level briefly with her words. "To whom do I owe the pleasure of this drink," she asked coolly.
---
Constantine thought about this for a moment despite the brief fantasy of what it would be like to shag her, bestial energy, exotic beauty and all. "Name's John. John Alex. That shaggy miserable looking fellow next to me is me captive demon Corinth. Loyal phantom he is. Wouldn't cross'em if I were you."
---
The loyal phantom glared, glared! But he kept his muzzle shut when Sade gave him the look over. No need to let her on to the fact that he was very much sentient. Once she focused on 'John Alex' again Cori mouthed a simple 'Fuck. You.' to the magus. It was endearing, sort of.
"Interesting, is that your game, John Alex," asked the dark woman as she leaned closer to Constantine, "are you a hunter."
---
The advantage of crocodile jaws and a stiff face, the obscene silent remark a simple open and closing of the mouth, perhaps a display of how eager the beast was to tear into anything that dared to threaten its master, but that was what Constantine wanted to think should he have even seen that.
"That's for me to know and you to find out, luv." John could feel all three of his mouths grin white.
---
Oh? She sipped from her midori then left the glass on the bartop to place her hands on the pale man's shoulders. She stalked around him to his other side. Her skin smelled like concentrated fruits, masking the more primal stench of her nature.
"A riddler, and a trickster," she concluded, lips pulled into a devious smile, "are their rules to this game?"
Her fingertip rest on the side of his sunglasses. She'd noticed the strange little formations behind the lenses, teeth, this one was closer to his pet demon in nature than he let on. Said demon noted the way she touched the shades, he wanted to clap those crocodilian jaws down on the single digit.
---
"Just one: Survival of the fittest." John stood, allowing Sade to do whatever she pleased. He watched with the patience of a predator like herself, only he was a lion crouched in the grass, creeping, waiting for just the right moment to strike. "I'm sure you're familiar with that little bit."
---
"Damn right I am," she smiled, lowering her hand from his shades to trail those fingertips along the back of his shoulder, down to his waistband. She gave it a little tug, having to tiptoe to reach his ear when they stood. Sade was still several inches shorter despite the assistance of her heels. "Come with me," she urged.
---
"A pleasure, luv." John flashed Cori a glance. He wasn't afraid of Sade, but there was very much the possibility of fucking things up. Cori would be an idea back up; he looked vicious enough to pull his arse from the fire, as usual. "So what does our little hunter call herself?"
---
"Sade," she offered to John Alex, knowing full well that these names were not theirs by birth. Who used their true names anymore? Hmm, she glanced at the pet demon out the corner of her eye then nuzzled the man's neck. "I hope it's trained to sit," said the huntress as she tugged on John's collar.
---
"It does more than sit, luv," John smirked, allowing Sade to take him wherever she wished him to go. much like the demon "pet" that had supposedly followed him. Somewhere isolated probably. For the better, for her and him. "I might show you some of the tricks I taught'em."
---
Women. Seriously. The demon pet kept his head low, ever subservient to Master John Alex. He knew his cue too, stay until they left, then track them down in the shadows. The magus had his special skills and so did the nightmare.
"Does it take a chain or a whip," she asked most shamelessly as her hands guided the stranger to the rear exit of Diamond Dogs. A railed stairway led upwards and out of the underground. It opened into a much more quiet alleyway for at this hour, perhaps one before midnight, the citizens of the city were asleep, and the fresh air was so much more exhilarating. Her den was not too far from here, but she was not so stupid as to lead him to her home so soon. He had to earn that privilege.
"You're like the moon," Sade said to Constantine, regarding his appearance.
---
"Chains on a bad day. Leather when he's behaving. Bastard can be moody." Constantine reached down for a cigarette out of habit, his skin pale, hair white, teeth clean, well-kept ivory unfazed by vice. The shades shined, glinted. "The moon, eh? Fan of word games?"
Lovely alleyway she had picked, he absent mindedly thought, lighting one cig but hanging onto another unless she objected.
---
"Is that another word for rough trade," Sade asked in that same husky tone, her fingers crawling across his chest--what was this? Her thumb rubbed over the presence of metal under his shirt. She refused the cigarette for now, intent on leading the white-blonde through the city streets. The steeple of the cathedral stood above the low buildings, perhaps only some blocks away. The forest was ideal though.
---
"It's- gnn!" That caught John by surprise; forgot completely about that nipple ring. One thing to play with the damn thing, another to have someone discover it on his body. "I see you found the ring," he grinned. He wondered what she was thinking about, but then again, what did seductive werewomen think about? Sex? Food? Her perfume was intoxicating.
---
Hmm, it must be fresh to be so sensitive, or had she caught John Alex off his guard? She smirked over the sound the stimulation elicited. Her perfume was quite heady, and she made sure he knew it by placing a kiss to the side of his neck.
"I've got one myself, care to find it," she urged his exploration, thigh pressed to thigh before she moved away from the man, feigning precocious. Sade tapped the corner of her lip and smiled.
---
"Am I going to have to do a little diggin'?" Constantine smiled, tempted to tip his shades but oh, not yet. She knew they were there but did she know what they could do? Pity shagging this bird could be interesting, if not for the fact that he knew what she really was. His head was swimming in that damn perfume of hers. Still, he presented an eager air, possibly feigned, possibly wanting to really find it.
---
"I think so," she answered quite slyly, stepping into the shadows once more. In the darkness she could turn her back to John Alex and slip a strap down her shoulder, then the other. Yes, right here, right now, no protection, no rules.
---
Darkness. John felt himself subconsciously bristle. Still he kept up the act. "You want me to do it in the dark, luv?"
---
"Yes," she answered, hands pressed to the wall, all men wanted their women to be in the vulnerable position. The top of her dress had settled at her hips, exposing pert B cups. Soon, very soon....
What the hell is this? The Corinthian watched from a distance of one block, himself tucked away in the shadows across the street. He narrowed his gaze at the thought, that this woman was using the female-friendly male libido against John, John in his body for that matter.
---
Constantine approached, but it was with a masked caution. The nose piece on his shades itched. "Against the wall?"
---
"Getting cold feet?" She asked the man, sensing his suspicion. Come now, what did he have to fear from pretty little ole Sade? She reached behind herself to take one of John's hands and guide him to hike up the hem of her dress.
---
"Teasing." Fine, she wanted him to touch? So be it. Despite the real Corinthian's feelings, John decided that he'd at least squeeze some hollow moment of pleasure from this venture, even with the tension wrought in his innards. Still, his fingers played up and along, a gentle brush he had used with many other women before her, up towards the top, to those breasts exposed.
---
"That's right," she purred, feeling his fingers on her breasts. Sade leaned back slightly, to press her rear to his pelvis. How long was this guy going to take to get his goods out. Any longer and she may as well swipe a paw across his face and take him back to the cave.
Wring her neck already, horn dog, the Corinthian thought to himself.
---
"You've never been teased before, have you?" John's fingers continued to play along her sides, to her breasts, around the nipples. It was practiced and careful, just right, a sign that this man was skilled, which indeed he was. He rubbed his covered crotch against her ass, a slow grind. He leaned in to kiss the back of her neck, to suck on the bare flesh, if purposely getting too much into it and rubbing off his shades.
... Now when will she turn around?
---
Talk about tasteless. The Corinthian averted his gaze from the scene briefly, practically smelling the wanton need for sex. Well, John had been neglected for oh two weeks. Who could blame him right? Cori that's who. Still he didn't interfere, but gradually he made that funny lope-walk from shadow to shadow.
"Trust me, John," she purred in response. Sade was almost over-confident that she was more experienced than he despite his skillful manipulation. She reached for his other hand, feeling the smooth--... not so smooth palm? Her gaze drifted downward briefly to her name in his flesh. Dark eyes narrowed, then turned a hard grip onto his wrist before looking at him.
---
Was this his mistake, or hers? Perhaps hers, a beautiful coincidence on John's end, Sade turning towards the pair of exposed twin sets of teeth, the shades already having since clacked away on the pavement.
They seemed to grin maliciously, one rasping, *I trust no one, luv.*
---
Her gaze locked with his toothy one, determined to put the fear in him with her own animalistic glare, but he was better equipped for the situation. Sade couldn't even respond before she was in the city again, some place far from the likes of London or New York, foreign and very dangerous. The simba were chasing them, lions who had nearly eradicated her people, still plucking them from the streets like vermin. They were the exterminators and she their quarry. There were three of them in chatro form, running, running as fast as they could, over garbage cans, through filthy water and grime.
---
Suddenly, something smashed her back in to the pavement. A great weight from something, but the weight wasn't great at all, the full gravity of it brought on by mere surprise. Sure it had stopped her, as this was his domain now, he stepped off.
"Thought you could get away, didn't you?" It was the supposed John Corinth's voice, a puny little voice belonging to a puny little man.
---
One of the lions had swiped her pack mates, sending the ajaba barreling into her. Sade hit the ground with a grunt. Talk was cheap, she turned on her sister and snapped those powerful jaws on her leg, crushing the bone and crippling the poor creature. To John Corinth she may as well be fighting the air. Unbeknownst to the woman she was also shifting, muscles becoming more compact, nose extending into a muzzle. Her dress had dragged off from the struggle and in the middle of her change revealed the rings pierced on her handsome false penis. Spotted fur sprouted, coating her skin, her ears.
"I'll see you in hell," growled the crinos voice. She turned from the white lion and broke into a run, leaving her imaginary sister behind.
"Shit," Cori hissed to himself. The woman was in her own dream world, running from the white horror. Was that how he looked? A cold predator preying on frenzied dreamers.
---
Let her fight, let her fight as he revealed himself as well, or at least in the dream sense.
John could not recall shapeshifting in dreams before but here it was so electric and vivid, as if a slow explosion had rippled through his body. His clothes tore off him, revealing the bulging, strengthening musculature, the whitening of flesh with the fur, the flow of a pure white mane. The massive fangs in his jaw were nothing like those of a the wolf's, nothing like the smaller pair of fang set in his sockets. The claws sliding out of their sheaths was an agonizingly wonderful feeling as the rest of him felt like liquid steel, invincible with a bestial power and inhuman ferocity that hungered to tear that miserable hyena bitch apart.
He roared with all the energy that had built up in his chest, begging to be released, to be known. He did not just own this domain but he was the king.
The tufted tail waved, whipped, and his nostrils flared, taking in the rancid hyena scent, his prey. He tore after her through the dreamscape.
In the real world? Well, this display looked hardly as impressive. Silly almost, caught up in the exhilaration of the change and the hunt.
---
The roar alone was enough to freeze the remaining two ajaba in their tracks. The simba's comrades receded, leaving the king to finish this hunt alone as he was born to do. Sade paced her second sister, closer until she could snap her jaws at the other's muzzle. This one would not go down as quickly as the first. The two tumbled along the street, in the real world this resulted in a garbage can toppling in John's way. SNAP. Her teeth sank into her sister's eye, blinding the creature and leaving her for food.
The king knew their secrets, their penchant for wine, their disdain for the flesh of an infant, and most importantly, their scars. A single blow, a single blow could do them in. She had no choice but to cripple her packmates, only one would make it out alive.
---
Fool. Stupid little pathetic ajaba, destroying her own pack mates, doing his work for him. A pink tongue slithered over whiskers, over fangs, tasting the secrets that bled through the air of the dream, the nightmare. Muscles rippled under the taut white hide as the beast thundered towards her, for her.
The real world Constantine gracefully bounded over the fallen trash can, a comical sight of a small little man stalking after a panicked werehyena.
---
Gotta stop that woman somehow. His body was conditioned but it was nowhere near the speed of an African planes mammal. How much speed could he reach in this demonic all hands form though?
Her claws scraped against the pavement, fast but not fast enough to outrun a simba. She turned a corner, hoping to outmaneuver him. If there was one advantage to her size it was being able to wedge into hard to reach places. Too bad one of those places led her to the dead end of a building block. But what did they say about cornered animals again? Sade turned away from the brick wall and bared her sharp teeth, snapping and snarling. She wouldn't go down without a fight.
---
The white werelion towered over his prey, all three sets of teeth bared and gleaming, eager to take her up for the final stand. His right hand, claws extended, twitched in anticipation. No longer was Constantine the inept fighter but a conditioned experienced killer, a monster among his species burning with the loathing for the pathetic little predator that shrunk before him. Christ, he never thought he would enjoy fighting, but this was amazing.
There was a moment of tension, silence, then a screaming roar and leap.
---
Motherfucker!
The nightbeast came upon the scene as soon as the magus in white made to attack the clearly undressed hyena. Gone were her good looks and pleasant scent. This was a predator and despite the Corinthian's immortality, tackling a woman against her tooth and nail was a dangerous idea. She tried to duck so that once the lion was over her she could twist her neck and deliver a crushing blow to his jaw.
---
The lion was liquid grace. Constantine in the Corinthian's body, well, not quite.
The beast unfortunately had the cat's tendency to go for the throat, which Constantine missed his mark, or perhaps that could have been attributed to the fact that indeed, the nightmare Englishman's human form was being callously flung at the very much a beast's teeth and claws as if he were still the creature in her mind.
---
Not. His. Face.
A blur of gray and bone-yellow darted into the fray, hands grabbing at the mammal's mane before she could lock onto the magus. That would have been not only messy but downright devastating for his features. Well, there was that thing about wanting John not to get hurt too. Her teeth managed to graze under the man's chin before she turned her vicious bite onto the demonbeast. Two, two of them, two male lions, eager to eradicate her species, eager to chew up her cubs. Her muzzle clamped down on the newcomer's hand, rendering it useless now.
---
Another lion? Wait... He thought the others had...
Constantine pulled his focus from Dream and to Reality, finding Cori had joined the fray and already he had taken damage; bone crushing jaws popped the demon beast's palm into a crippled mess. Oh Jesus, and to think he is going to be inhabiting that mortal form if he did succeed.
Of course, shapeshifting did heal some moderate damage, but there was something vital now, something vital from the dream that had lingered fresh in his mind. Shit, all the details of the dream were crystal clear. Benefit of being a function of sorts. Would be pointless otherwise if he had that dream amnesia bit everyone else got... He'd muse on it later, right now trying to find something blunt and nasty.
---
This lion was nowhere near as majestic as the white one, in dreamtime it appeared in the standard sandy coat, but his jaws were no less menacing, save for the fact that he now lacked a good paw. Not only was his paw mangled, she was still attached to it. Red eyes shut from the pain, true pain. How long had it been since the Corinthian experienced the disadvantages of mortality. He parted that toothy snout and snapped at her face, trying to disengage the classic lock down of a hyena's jaws.
Discarded pipe or crowbar would do wouldn't it?
---
John was looking. Looking... Looking...
Shit, there. His hands darted for a crowbar while the Corinthian held off Sade. Now what was this about a scar? Constantine was soon inches away from the bodies of teeth and claws and fur, brow furrowed in concentration of trying to recall that spot. He could feel his eyeteeth grind as the crowbar somehow felt heavier and heavier. Sweat beaded.
Fucking think fast!
---
The Corinthian opened his jaws. "Hit her!!"
Blood was already running freely, down his arm, all over the alley floor. The bitch wasn't letting go. Even his fingers in her eyes wasn't helping. She thrashed her head left and right, pulling the demonbeast down. Soon she'd be on top of him, then she could deliver the final blow to his head.
Rating; R (language, violence)
Characters; John Constantine (
silkcutremix), the Corinthian (bitingnightmare)Summary; the magician and nightmare go on the hunt for one last chance at reclaiming Constantine's shape
Log;
John already knew the shit had yet to end when he saw that damned skull face at the bottom of his glass. The horns, antlers were unmistakable. Still, he reminded himself that he might as well have been seeing things and it was only an effect of being Cori, although he doubted that Cori had seen things that did not quite exist here in the waking world and would not mention them. Both of them had their own shit though.
The Great Horned Wanker, however, was still his concern. The switched body obviously did not fool him.
Setting the glass down on the remaining table in the studio, that skull flickered along the shine once again. Constantine furrowed his brow. "How did you get through the wards then..."
---
Cori had been sitting on the couch, back to the sofa arm so his not-quite-legs could stretch out. He held a cigarette in one human hand, having learned how to smoke it sometime during the long.... very long curse day. It had to be a curse, considering what the rest of the people on the terminal were bitching about, it would pass in time. Not to say he thought living in the beast's shape unbearable of course, it was the fact that he wasn't in his own body, that night terror wasn't his to control until midnight. Bah, he puffed on a Mild Seven.
"What's up," he asked John without looking to him, having heard that remark.
---
"Something," muttered John the nightmare, catching sight of himself and his shades in the reflection. The skull had left once again, trying to piss him off or something no doubt; he had done the same to him their last, first encounter. He stood up.
Being the Corinthian hadn't been a terrible experience once he got over the strange sensation of having two pairs of teeth behind his eyelids. He could smoke through them, talk through them, eat through them, everything his mouth could do really. Too bad he had yet to find anything terribly useful for them besides conversing with himself or drinking through his eyes as a cheap party trick, but even that was dubious since he would have given all of them instant nightmares. There was duty to this body as well but sod it all if he wanted any part of it. All this better not last more than a day; he did not want to shoulder whatever shit Cori had to do that required his body's abilities. He couldn't do it if just because he was not created to.
Fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he made his way to the infamous bathroom to take a piss, or something. He needed to get away now, from the faces that begged his attention if that was what they really wanted. He doubted it.
---
This time the not-quite-nightmare looked up, for probably the first time in his life experiencing the other side of the coin. Sure he could look into peoples' eyes now, but not his own, neither did he want a taste of his own medicine nor make John endure his function. He exhaled through that long boney snout.
"What's that," he asked the magus, expecting some kind of explanation, but it seemed he chose to just walk off for a piss. Better take care of those damn piercings, Cori thought to himself.
---
John did not catch that part. Maybe he was lucky, or maybe he was even just a little bit envious of the fact that Cori could easily articulate himself from that snout and he had to struggle, but the fact that he was a conman and not a shapeshifter had long since been made apparent.
And looking down to see a pierced cock, his pieced cock, was another thing entirely. He was not a stranger to piercings but never did he have a piercing there. There was the temptation to play with it, if just to get an idea of what it felt like on Cori's end. The thought was beginning to turn him on...
A sharp voice ancient and old with a tone eons deep rippled along the yellow water the moment his fingers danced along his cockhead. "Constantine..."
As if his member had gone suddenly hot, his hand jerked away, stumbling back from that fucking face in the toilet bowl. Aw, bugger. He had yet to start and already he was caught potentially masturbating.
---
Call it the advantage of being a dream, one who had shapeshifted himself in many a nightmare, and there was that ancient heritage even the Corinthian didn't know about that connected him to the being who'd crafted this body for Constantine. He really did prefer his own pierced cock though. Cori had half a mind to spy on the man in the bathroom just to make sure he wasn't fiddling with the frenum bar in an unsafe manner.
What was that about always getting caught with his cock in his hands? The nightbeast would have arched an eyebrow if his skull weren’t so stiff. He sat up straight, hearing a minor commotion in the bathroom, but remained on the couch for now. Listening.
---
Constantine had backed up into the massive figure of heroic Grecian proportions, the tanned taut flesh bare except for a loincloth. He whirled around, knowing there was no way that could be just the wall, finding the Daedra Prince that had walked into his dreams with teeth and wolves not too long ago. The eyes were only holes and the spear ever so sharp.
"Constantine. Perhaps you may reconsider renouncing your Kinship with me, the Prince of the Hunt."
"Don't know you. Want nothing to do with you, mate. Piss off, everything is under control."
"You are incorrect," snarled the Prince. "That is where you are horribly wrong, and in turn you have wronged and insulted me. It is seldom that one is worthy to survive a hunt performed by one of my own children that decides who is fit to join my Hounds and who is fit to only be Hunted. I cannot deny your reputation. Seldom I am pleased by the addition of the likes of you to my Pack. Beware, Constantine, for my wrath is great. "
"Great. Whose wrath isn't? Convince me why I shouldn't take you as another prat who thinks he can push me and wank me around because I'm a soddin' Constantine, eh?"
"Do you think being switched to that body was a coincidence, or perhaps I might have had some influence? The City will right itself in time, but you and your friend will not. The Kinship between he and I fades as his immortal body purges itself slowly of its sickness. I used what remains of his Kinship to lock your shapes. "
"You did what."
"You will not return to your old body, Constantine. Forever, if you dare wish to be sure of your foolish mistake, I shall dedicate myself to the pursuit of you, in that immortal form for that I may enjoy the thrill of hunting prey so cunning, so clever for many centuries to come, never to cease, through eternity and beyond. "
"You're fucking kidding me."
"Not unless you redeem yourself through the way of the Hunt. " The spear glimmered. "Listen, Constantine, and listen to me well: Should you complete your task, you shall be restored back to your old body, your old human shape. You will have control over your lupine self, but you shall serve as one of my Hounds every full moon period for as long as you are my Child. You are aware of the gifts of lycanthropy, the potential it could bring to you, man or beast…"
All three sets of teeth were grit. What other choice did he have? Had no immediate cure to his disease now, perhaps ever. The first transformation had doomed him. "Shoot. What do you want?"
---
Now things were getting a little weird, he could hear John talking, wasn't so sure if there was a second voice involved. It translated like static in his mind, the source something not from the city or the waking world. He approached the bathroom carefully, rapped his knuckles on the door.
"You okay in there," the Corinthian asked, suspicious of this situation. It didn't feel like one of the city's tricks this time.
---
"Beautiful!" Constantine had shouted to the other side of the door. Of course Cori would be concerned by now. He had been taking a little long and perhaps conversing with himself a little too loud.
"This is your task, Constantine, " Hircine went on as if the Corinthian, the demon Corinthian, were not outside there, allowing him to be Constantine's problem. "Remember: One of my Children has been growing unruly and disrespectful to me and her gifts. I find her a danger to my interests of preservation and I wish to test your own worthiness by cleansing this world of one that does not deserve my Kinship. With what I have offered you, would this be an acceptable alternative to the many deaths that otherwise await you."
"Details. (I'm alright, Cori! Moment!)"
"All my Children are different, Constantine, and not one of them is alike. Realize that there are breeds beyond that of the Wolf. The one you seek is among those who are not Wolves. Constantine, the skin you wear is an adept hunter and killer. I shall allow you to utilize its and your tracking abilities to its fullest extent to seek the offending Child out and dispatch of her.
"May your senses lead you to a Sade, a vicious werehyena of my greatest contempt. You will have two days, Constantine, to complete your task, before my own Hunt begins. Farewell."
Before John could say anything else, Hircine had disappeared, allowing him then to face the ex-nightmare creature outside. The door was unlocked, should he want to have a peek without the other's permission for the sake of his tendency to hide pressing matters and keep them to himself.
---
Lies. The Corinthian's expression flattened, or rather it did in his mind but his skull-face was unchanged. The shadows under the door were too wide to be those of John alone, or was the demon nightmare seeing things? He gave the door knob a little twist, pushed it open just slightly despite the man's reassurances. It wasn't that he didn't trust John! He just didn't trust John when he could detect the scent of a big fat lie. However it seemed the magus was telling the truth this time.
"Are you talking through my eyes again," Cori asked with mild annoyance now that his worry had subsided.
---
"Been bloody practicing. Convincing, innit?" John pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the weight of the task at hand. Scrying this Sade out wouldn't be a problem, but trying to fight her? Bloody hell, that was another matter entirely. No wonder he had been transplanted to the Corinthian's body; he would be needing that immortality bit.
---
"I guess," needless to say Cori wasn't amused. His body wasn't a bright and shiny new toy, well.... in some situations it was but not the daily one! He opened his beak to say more but felt a twist in his chest, something burned in his blood briefly. Demonic red eyes glanced aside a moment. "Nn," the nightbeast sounded to the other before returning to the couch.
---
That was a little odd. It was Constantine's turn to give the nightbeast a funny look, following him out of the bathroom (but not forgetting to wash). He didn't feel so intent on drinking now; time to figure out a decent scrying spell that'd work with only a name and flavor of poison attached to it.
"Now what's your problem?"
---
"Nothing," said the Corinthian, feeling a little inflammation of his tongue. "You break it you buy it, and all that," he waved a beastly hand at John, convinced the magus was too enthralled with his new body for it to be any other matter, or maybe Cori was trying to keep his temperature down. He closed the trench coat tighter around his strange hybrid figure and reclaimed his seat on the couch.
---
Break it and buy it indeed. Sigh, with a werehyena, wereanything, there was going to be a lot of breaking involved. How should he say it?
"You know, it doesn't matter where I go, location or flesh 'n' all that, but the creeps seem to keep on finding me, no matter how many bloody wards I throw up and around the place."
---
"What happened," he asked John again. Damnit he knew the man was hiding something, though in this demonic form the Corinthian could do little more beyond a nasty bite. The nightmare gaze belonged to the magus for now. His red gaze drifted to the pack of Mild Sevens on the table with the laptop.
---
"Visitor in the bathroom. Think he got in because of the soddin' lycanthropy." John went for a Silkcut, regardless if the nightmare, sort of, complained or not. "Basically said I have two days to go kill a bitchy werehyena or end up getting impaled on his spear like a good sport for the rest of eternity and all that bollocks.
"So what's eating you?"
---
He refrained from grabbing a cancer stick himself, wouldn't help soothe the burn even if it might give him temporary peace of mind. Cori turned to the shaded nightmare magician, ignoring the man's other question.
"You've got to be kidding me," he said with a shake of that skullhead. Hm, funny how he had a little skull embedded in his normal form but in this one the boney face was on the outside. "What're you going to do about it," asked the Corinthian, keeping the focus on John for the time being.
---
"What can I do about it? Finding a werehyena shouldn't be too tough. Just can't fight her head on s'all." Smoke drifted in streams from all three mouths.
---
The burn had been on and off since the morning, nothing great enough for the Corinthian to make note of it, but consistent enough to be annoying. He shook his head again, werehyenas, gods of the hunt, was that the kind of life John Constantine normally led? And for a moment he noticed how queer it was to see himself smoking through all three eyes. They were fortunate that the magus hadn't inherited his... appetite.
"So take a gun, we'll shoot her face off," suggested the nightbeast, assuming this could be a team effort.
---
"Sounds about right then." John stopped, then shook his head. "Aw, hell. You're bloody kidding me, mate. There has to be a catch with the Great Horned Wanker sending me after that particular one. I'm sure walking up with a gun and a few silver bullets would be nothing new on her."
---
"A real big gun, buckshots," he suggested to John with what should have been a smirk on his toothy demonic face. But, this was a serious matter as well, so he raised a hand and gestured to the Englishman's new face. "... Don't tell me this was all planned," and definitely not by John himself lest he learn how quickly Cori could adapt to those crocodilian jaws.
---
"Planned? There is biting her and then there is..." *... letting her have a look.*
Say, this might not have been as bad as he had previously thought; the thing that would make this ordeal so much easier was right behind his shades. If only those eyeteeth could grin.
---
Those eyeteeth could grin, smirk, and snarl like anyone else's mouth. For the Corinthian such expressions were wielded with ease, John on the other hand might need help, not with speaking through them as he so graciously showed off but rather with the look. His own red gaze became serious despite the cocky tone in the other's suggestion.
"It'd work, if you can get the hang of it," said the nightbeast.
---
"What do you mean?" John had yet to learn that his eyes could emote, even if it would be pointless, something done for his own satisfaction as no one else could look on them safely.
---
A shame then if it meant John could never see his teetheyes smile in his own body.
"It's not easy," being me, which the Corinthian would never dare say because of his own pride. "But it's not something you can practice either," he admitted to the Englishman. In the case of the werehyena it was sort of do or die wasn't it, a matter of employing the right tactics, and John here was a natural conman.
---
Indeed, it would be a matter of the right place at the right time; John had the abilities and tools. "Forgot where the School of Nightmaring was anyway," was the offhanded remark as John gazed thoughtfully at his drink for a moment. Already he had a simple scrying spell in mind...
---
Cognitive dissonance wasn't really her game but who was she to deny what genetics gave her? Sade was a heart crusher, a man eater by no other name. Her cruelty bled from the stilettos under her heels to the deep plum lipstick on her smirk. Her kind hated her for her natural beauty, and even more so they hated how much fortune it brought to her doorstep. The woman of dusky tan skin and long dark chocolate waves smiled to the stranger at the end of the bartop, a place called Diamond Dogs in the underground where ladies like her weren't supposed to tread. The poor man's goal was discovering whether she wore satin or lace under that blood red dress, her goal was dinner.
---
Couldn't keep Constantine out of a nun's knickers, certainly couldn't keep him from tracking down something like a werehyena. He gave the place a look before he entered: Diamond Dogs. Never heard of it, but he was a stranger to the Underground. Shouldn't be too long until he established a reputation there, outside of being that poor humiliated bastard trying to cling to a long since passed fame and reputation. He shook the notion from his head.
"Come on," he said to his lanky companion, greeted by the breath of corruption, beasts and lust. "Sure you'll be right at home here."
---
Too bad any reputation he might establish or otherwise sully tonight was the Corinthian's. The nightmare in the demon's skin wandered into the establishment, cloaked in trench coat 'like a damn flasher' he'd said before they left. Better than nothing of course, and if John should ruin his image, well someone was going to be scratching his balls in public. Yeah that was a great way for a Constantine to jump-start his legend in the underground.
Cori didn't speak when they walked into the bar, it sort of gave him a taste of how Matthew felt whenever they walked the waking world together. Sometimes it was just better to keep their mouths shut.
Sade had slinked towards the random stranger, eager to sink her claws into him and later her teeth. The heavy scent of oranges and pomegranates graced her skin, sort of a necessary evil considering the alternative of going au naturel.
---
John had etched the name "Sade" into his palm, dragging one's finger across the wounds evoking images of black spots on brown fur and the lash of sharp angry teeth. The little mark would pulse should he have approached the supposed quarry. Its range was dubious, but already he could feel a little slow tremble thump along in there. His spell wasn't off after all; she was here.
"She's close," he muttered. "In here somewhere. Look, you can smell shite, can't you? I've been around before. Seen werewolves but not werehyenas. Heard they're nasty little cunts, but smell godawful. See if you can pick up anyone odd."
Easier said than done. The lycanthropic virus was almost completely out of Cori's system, as well as any benefits to the senses that came with it. Should Constantine have been in his own body with its acute nose, he would have picked up the faint musks of other werebeasts of all species snug away in their human forms.
---
“I can but don’t have a clue where it’s coming from,” said the nightbeast who picked up all kinds of strange scents, but they were twisting and turning through each other. “Odd at 9 o’clock,” he hissed to the magus.
The Corinthian was referring to the high class fox practically dipping her ample cleavage into the man’s drink. She was a few zeros above his income and neither was he a handsome buck upon which a lass like her could take pity. The man was approaching 50 and lacked the Constantine youth gene, his girth bulged at the belt, just meaty enough to last her a week or more because Sade didn’t share. The only thing on the man’s mind was getting his meat between her thighs.
---
Well, that explained the quickening beat of the sigil. John studied the "odd," finding the said fox. She was a stunning one at that, but at his age, he knew better, especially if Hircine, big, ol' mighty Hircine with his bleedin' spear and antlers and all, wanted this particular bint picked off. Looked like any other that seduced whoever she wanted, but that was not just the predatory nature of beasts but women.
No time to linger on it all, John had to decide on a plan of attack quickly, the nightmare Englishman sauntering up to the bar near the scene, casually waving the barkeep over for a drink. Something usual tonight. Settled the nerves.
---
Yeah take his young handsome body swaggering up to the bar like that. As the night wore on Cori was beginning to find this curse unfair. At least let him have the Englishman's body to prey upon John and in turn er.... himself. Well man eating thoughts aside, the demon creature followed the other on his awkward hands.
Hmm, Grade A meat approaching, but too muscled for Sade's taste. She wanted to bury her muzzle in soft moist flesh, taste the padded organs in the man's rotund torso, of course no one ever said she couldn't take two at once. The woman shifted her gaze to the white-blonde under smoky lids before returning her attention to the midlife crisis. She purred something inaudible into the man's ear.
"Good luck," the Corinthian muttered to John. Aw come on, did he have to show off his ability to slurp a pint?
---
The brief gaze fluttered along John. Good thing that she noticed her. Would make things easier for one. Subconsciously he adjusted his shades, knowing the whole matter would be pulling her aside, flashing those teeth and in turn, well, things would be in his favor, wouldn't it? This was just the hard part...
John downed the Guinness with that practiced way of drinking stout in order to enjoy its thick flavor to the fullest, white and black sliding down his throat. Helped the image too. Some people had a thing for Englishmen, Irishmen, and hell, just Europeans over the supposedly ordinary ol' Americans... Or Japanese. Whatever happened to be the dominant sort around here. Couldn't turn down that accent, even if it was Cori's voice (Wonder what people thought of his resident "pet" demon).
Come to think of it, Sade did show some interest in him. He could afford to break the ice.
"Oy! Barkeep! Get us a drink for this lovely bird 'ere, eh?"
---
The Corinthian hadn't spoken in his English accent since the second World War so hearing it from John's side was a piece of nostalgia. Too bad he couldn't enjoy it, acting the part of pet demon and all. Since his own red gaze looked like a glare all the time it really didn't mean much to stare at the pint of Guinny so hard.
Hmm, calling was he? She smelled something positively predatory about the white haired man, a worthy challenge to be certain, and even more so a worthy breeder. Sade pressed her cheek to the stranger and slipped a single card into his breast pocket before sauntering down the bar. She stopped beside the pair, hand on the edge of the counter as her dark tawny eyes studied him from head to toe and up again. The woman smirked then nodded to the tender.
"A midori," she ordered, her voice warm and sultry.
---
The voice thrilled along Constantine's nerves as she approached with the air of a slinking beast, away from that other bloke, to him, those eyes studied and with a hunger he felt.
Go on. Size me up. Bite.
"Great stuff that. You a regular?"
---
The Corinthian was noticing the exchange between the two, almost certain that John was considering that horribly indecent act, indecent not because of some sense of monogamy but for the fact that he was still in his body. Now that was a nightmare.
"Not really, but I make a note of the landscape," Sade said to the man, lowering her gaze to waist level briefly with her words. "To whom do I owe the pleasure of this drink," she asked coolly.
---
Constantine thought about this for a moment despite the brief fantasy of what it would be like to shag her, bestial energy, exotic beauty and all. "Name's John. John Alex. That shaggy miserable looking fellow next to me is me captive demon Corinth. Loyal phantom he is. Wouldn't cross'em if I were you."
---
The loyal phantom glared, glared! But he kept his muzzle shut when Sade gave him the look over. No need to let her on to the fact that he was very much sentient. Once she focused on 'John Alex' again Cori mouthed a simple 'Fuck. You.' to the magus. It was endearing, sort of.
"Interesting, is that your game, John Alex," asked the dark woman as she leaned closer to Constantine, "are you a hunter."
---
The advantage of crocodile jaws and a stiff face, the obscene silent remark a simple open and closing of the mouth, perhaps a display of how eager the beast was to tear into anything that dared to threaten its master, but that was what Constantine wanted to think should he have even seen that.
"That's for me to know and you to find out, luv." John could feel all three of his mouths grin white.
---
Oh? She sipped from her midori then left the glass on the bartop to place her hands on the pale man's shoulders. She stalked around him to his other side. Her skin smelled like concentrated fruits, masking the more primal stench of her nature.
"A riddler, and a trickster," she concluded, lips pulled into a devious smile, "are their rules to this game?"
Her fingertip rest on the side of his sunglasses. She'd noticed the strange little formations behind the lenses, teeth, this one was closer to his pet demon in nature than he let on. Said demon noted the way she touched the shades, he wanted to clap those crocodilian jaws down on the single digit.
---
"Just one: Survival of the fittest." John stood, allowing Sade to do whatever she pleased. He watched with the patience of a predator like herself, only he was a lion crouched in the grass, creeping, waiting for just the right moment to strike. "I'm sure you're familiar with that little bit."
---
"Damn right I am," she smiled, lowering her hand from his shades to trail those fingertips along the back of his shoulder, down to his waistband. She gave it a little tug, having to tiptoe to reach his ear when they stood. Sade was still several inches shorter despite the assistance of her heels. "Come with me," she urged.
---
"A pleasure, luv." John flashed Cori a glance. He wasn't afraid of Sade, but there was very much the possibility of fucking things up. Cori would be an idea back up; he looked vicious enough to pull his arse from the fire, as usual. "So what does our little hunter call herself?"
---
"Sade," she offered to John Alex, knowing full well that these names were not theirs by birth. Who used their true names anymore? Hmm, she glanced at the pet demon out the corner of her eye then nuzzled the man's neck. "I hope it's trained to sit," said the huntress as she tugged on John's collar.
---
"It does more than sit, luv," John smirked, allowing Sade to take him wherever she wished him to go. much like the demon "pet" that had supposedly followed him. Somewhere isolated probably. For the better, for her and him. "I might show you some of the tricks I taught'em."
---
Women. Seriously. The demon pet kept his head low, ever subservient to Master John Alex. He knew his cue too, stay until they left, then track them down in the shadows. The magus had his special skills and so did the nightmare.
"Does it take a chain or a whip," she asked most shamelessly as her hands guided the stranger to the rear exit of Diamond Dogs. A railed stairway led upwards and out of the underground. It opened into a much more quiet alleyway for at this hour, perhaps one before midnight, the citizens of the city were asleep, and the fresh air was so much more exhilarating. Her den was not too far from here, but she was not so stupid as to lead him to her home so soon. He had to earn that privilege.
"You're like the moon," Sade said to Constantine, regarding his appearance.
---
"Chains on a bad day. Leather when he's behaving. Bastard can be moody." Constantine reached down for a cigarette out of habit, his skin pale, hair white, teeth clean, well-kept ivory unfazed by vice. The shades shined, glinted. "The moon, eh? Fan of word games?"
Lovely alleyway she had picked, he absent mindedly thought, lighting one cig but hanging onto another unless she objected.
---
"Is that another word for rough trade," Sade asked in that same husky tone, her fingers crawling across his chest--what was this? Her thumb rubbed over the presence of metal under his shirt. She refused the cigarette for now, intent on leading the white-blonde through the city streets. The steeple of the cathedral stood above the low buildings, perhaps only some blocks away. The forest was ideal though.
---
"It's- gnn!" That caught John by surprise; forgot completely about that nipple ring. One thing to play with the damn thing, another to have someone discover it on his body. "I see you found the ring," he grinned. He wondered what she was thinking about, but then again, what did seductive werewomen think about? Sex? Food? Her perfume was intoxicating.
---
Hmm, it must be fresh to be so sensitive, or had she caught John Alex off his guard? She smirked over the sound the stimulation elicited. Her perfume was quite heady, and she made sure he knew it by placing a kiss to the side of his neck.
"I've got one myself, care to find it," she urged his exploration, thigh pressed to thigh before she moved away from the man, feigning precocious. Sade tapped the corner of her lip and smiled.
---
"Am I going to have to do a little diggin'?" Constantine smiled, tempted to tip his shades but oh, not yet. She knew they were there but did she know what they could do? Pity shagging this bird could be interesting, if not for the fact that he knew what she really was. His head was swimming in that damn perfume of hers. Still, he presented an eager air, possibly feigned, possibly wanting to really find it.
---
"I think so," she answered quite slyly, stepping into the shadows once more. In the darkness she could turn her back to John Alex and slip a strap down her shoulder, then the other. Yes, right here, right now, no protection, no rules.
---
Darkness. John felt himself subconsciously bristle. Still he kept up the act. "You want me to do it in the dark, luv?"
---
"Yes," she answered, hands pressed to the wall, all men wanted their women to be in the vulnerable position. The top of her dress had settled at her hips, exposing pert B cups. Soon, very soon....
What the hell is this? The Corinthian watched from a distance of one block, himself tucked away in the shadows across the street. He narrowed his gaze at the thought, that this woman was using the female-friendly male libido against John, John in his body for that matter.
---
Constantine approached, but it was with a masked caution. The nose piece on his shades itched. "Against the wall?"
---
"Getting cold feet?" She asked the man, sensing his suspicion. Come now, what did he have to fear from pretty little ole Sade? She reached behind herself to take one of John's hands and guide him to hike up the hem of her dress.
---
"Teasing." Fine, she wanted him to touch? So be it. Despite the real Corinthian's feelings, John decided that he'd at least squeeze some hollow moment of pleasure from this venture, even with the tension wrought in his innards. Still, his fingers played up and along, a gentle brush he had used with many other women before her, up towards the top, to those breasts exposed.
---
"That's right," she purred, feeling his fingers on her breasts. Sade leaned back slightly, to press her rear to his pelvis. How long was this guy going to take to get his goods out. Any longer and she may as well swipe a paw across his face and take him back to the cave.
Wring her neck already, horn dog, the Corinthian thought to himself.
---
"You've never been teased before, have you?" John's fingers continued to play along her sides, to her breasts, around the nipples. It was practiced and careful, just right, a sign that this man was skilled, which indeed he was. He rubbed his covered crotch against her ass, a slow grind. He leaned in to kiss the back of her neck, to suck on the bare flesh, if purposely getting too much into it and rubbing off his shades.
... Now when will she turn around?
---
Talk about tasteless. The Corinthian averted his gaze from the scene briefly, practically smelling the wanton need for sex. Well, John had been neglected for oh two weeks. Who could blame him right? Cori that's who. Still he didn't interfere, but gradually he made that funny lope-walk from shadow to shadow.
"Trust me, John," she purred in response. Sade was almost over-confident that she was more experienced than he despite his skillful manipulation. She reached for his other hand, feeling the smooth--... not so smooth palm? Her gaze drifted downward briefly to her name in his flesh. Dark eyes narrowed, then turned a hard grip onto his wrist before looking at him.
---
Was this his mistake, or hers? Perhaps hers, a beautiful coincidence on John's end, Sade turning towards the pair of exposed twin sets of teeth, the shades already having since clacked away on the pavement.
They seemed to grin maliciously, one rasping, *I trust no one, luv.*
---
Her gaze locked with his toothy one, determined to put the fear in him with her own animalistic glare, but he was better equipped for the situation. Sade couldn't even respond before she was in the city again, some place far from the likes of London or New York, foreign and very dangerous. The simba were chasing them, lions who had nearly eradicated her people, still plucking them from the streets like vermin. They were the exterminators and she their quarry. There were three of them in chatro form, running, running as fast as they could, over garbage cans, through filthy water and grime.
---
Suddenly, something smashed her back in to the pavement. A great weight from something, but the weight wasn't great at all, the full gravity of it brought on by mere surprise. Sure it had stopped her, as this was his domain now, he stepped off.
"Thought you could get away, didn't you?" It was the supposed John Corinth's voice, a puny little voice belonging to a puny little man.
---
One of the lions had swiped her pack mates, sending the ajaba barreling into her. Sade hit the ground with a grunt. Talk was cheap, she turned on her sister and snapped those powerful jaws on her leg, crushing the bone and crippling the poor creature. To John Corinth she may as well be fighting the air. Unbeknownst to the woman she was also shifting, muscles becoming more compact, nose extending into a muzzle. Her dress had dragged off from the struggle and in the middle of her change revealed the rings pierced on her handsome false penis. Spotted fur sprouted, coating her skin, her ears.
"I'll see you in hell," growled the crinos voice. She turned from the white lion and broke into a run, leaving her imaginary sister behind.
"Shit," Cori hissed to himself. The woman was in her own dream world, running from the white horror. Was that how he looked? A cold predator preying on frenzied dreamers.
---
Let her fight, let her fight as he revealed himself as well, or at least in the dream sense.
John could not recall shapeshifting in dreams before but here it was so electric and vivid, as if a slow explosion had rippled through his body. His clothes tore off him, revealing the bulging, strengthening musculature, the whitening of flesh with the fur, the flow of a pure white mane. The massive fangs in his jaw were nothing like those of a the wolf's, nothing like the smaller pair of fang set in his sockets. The claws sliding out of their sheaths was an agonizingly wonderful feeling as the rest of him felt like liquid steel, invincible with a bestial power and inhuman ferocity that hungered to tear that miserable hyena bitch apart.
He roared with all the energy that had built up in his chest, begging to be released, to be known. He did not just own this domain but he was the king.
The tufted tail waved, whipped, and his nostrils flared, taking in the rancid hyena scent, his prey. He tore after her through the dreamscape.
In the real world? Well, this display looked hardly as impressive. Silly almost, caught up in the exhilaration of the change and the hunt.
---
The roar alone was enough to freeze the remaining two ajaba in their tracks. The simba's comrades receded, leaving the king to finish this hunt alone as he was born to do. Sade paced her second sister, closer until she could snap her jaws at the other's muzzle. This one would not go down as quickly as the first. The two tumbled along the street, in the real world this resulted in a garbage can toppling in John's way. SNAP. Her teeth sank into her sister's eye, blinding the creature and leaving her for food.
The king knew their secrets, their penchant for wine, their disdain for the flesh of an infant, and most importantly, their scars. A single blow, a single blow could do them in. She had no choice but to cripple her packmates, only one would make it out alive.
---
Fool. Stupid little pathetic ajaba, destroying her own pack mates, doing his work for him. A pink tongue slithered over whiskers, over fangs, tasting the secrets that bled through the air of the dream, the nightmare. Muscles rippled under the taut white hide as the beast thundered towards her, for her.
The real world Constantine gracefully bounded over the fallen trash can, a comical sight of a small little man stalking after a panicked werehyena.
---
Gotta stop that woman somehow. His body was conditioned but it was nowhere near the speed of an African planes mammal. How much speed could he reach in this demonic all hands form though?
Her claws scraped against the pavement, fast but not fast enough to outrun a simba. She turned a corner, hoping to outmaneuver him. If there was one advantage to her size it was being able to wedge into hard to reach places. Too bad one of those places led her to the dead end of a building block. But what did they say about cornered animals again? Sade turned away from the brick wall and bared her sharp teeth, snapping and snarling. She wouldn't go down without a fight.
---
The white werelion towered over his prey, all three sets of teeth bared and gleaming, eager to take her up for the final stand. His right hand, claws extended, twitched in anticipation. No longer was Constantine the inept fighter but a conditioned experienced killer, a monster among his species burning with the loathing for the pathetic little predator that shrunk before him. Christ, he never thought he would enjoy fighting, but this was amazing.
There was a moment of tension, silence, then a screaming roar and leap.
---
Motherfucker!
The nightbeast came upon the scene as soon as the magus in white made to attack the clearly undressed hyena. Gone were her good looks and pleasant scent. This was a predator and despite the Corinthian's immortality, tackling a woman against her tooth and nail was a dangerous idea. She tried to duck so that once the lion was over her she could twist her neck and deliver a crushing blow to his jaw.
---
The lion was liquid grace. Constantine in the Corinthian's body, well, not quite.
The beast unfortunately had the cat's tendency to go for the throat, which Constantine missed his mark, or perhaps that could have been attributed to the fact that indeed, the nightmare Englishman's human form was being callously flung at the very much a beast's teeth and claws as if he were still the creature in her mind.
---
Not. His. Face.
A blur of gray and bone-yellow darted into the fray, hands grabbing at the mammal's mane before she could lock onto the magus. That would have been not only messy but downright devastating for his features. Well, there was that thing about wanting John not to get hurt too. Her teeth managed to graze under the man's chin before she turned her vicious bite onto the demonbeast. Two, two of them, two male lions, eager to eradicate her species, eager to chew up her cubs. Her muzzle clamped down on the newcomer's hand, rendering it useless now.
---
Another lion? Wait... He thought the others had...
Constantine pulled his focus from Dream and to Reality, finding Cori had joined the fray and already he had taken damage; bone crushing jaws popped the demon beast's palm into a crippled mess. Oh Jesus, and to think he is going to be inhabiting that mortal form if he did succeed.
Of course, shapeshifting did heal some moderate damage, but there was something vital now, something vital from the dream that had lingered fresh in his mind. Shit, all the details of the dream were crystal clear. Benefit of being a function of sorts. Would be pointless otherwise if he had that dream amnesia bit everyone else got... He'd muse on it later, right now trying to find something blunt and nasty.
---
This lion was nowhere near as majestic as the white one, in dreamtime it appeared in the standard sandy coat, but his jaws were no less menacing, save for the fact that he now lacked a good paw. Not only was his paw mangled, she was still attached to it. Red eyes shut from the pain, true pain. How long had it been since the Corinthian experienced the disadvantages of mortality. He parted that toothy snout and snapped at her face, trying to disengage the classic lock down of a hyena's jaws.
Discarded pipe or crowbar would do wouldn't it?
---
John was looking. Looking... Looking...
Shit, there. His hands darted for a crowbar while the Corinthian held off Sade. Now what was this about a scar? Constantine was soon inches away from the bodies of teeth and claws and fur, brow furrowed in concentration of trying to recall that spot. He could feel his eyeteeth grind as the crowbar somehow felt heavier and heavier. Sweat beaded.
Fucking think fast!
---
The Corinthian opened his jaws. "Hit her!!"
Blood was already running freely, down his arm, all over the alley floor. The bitch wasn't letting go. Even his fingers in her eyes wasn't helping. She thrashed her head left and right, pulling the demonbeast down. Soon she'd be on top of him, then she could deliver the final blow to his head.