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tampered2007-01-07 06:56 pm
cigamyadyreve.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-01-07 06:56 pm
Log; Complete
When; Jan. 4 (evening)
Rating; PG
Characters; Zatanna (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cigamyadyreve), John Constantine (silkcutremix), the Corinthian (bitingnightmare)
Summary; the great illusionist drops by to see an old familiar face
Log;
After the launch, a simple string of backwards speech deposited a fishnetted woman with trademark waistcoat and jacket on the edge of the kitchen table. This included a flash bang of smoke and sparkles because the illusionist felt it her right to surprise the magician in the worst way possible. Zee crossed one leg over the other. "No wards?"
"Fuck!" The nightmare who'd been eavesdropping over John's shoulder stumbled back, all the way to the kitchen counter.
---
"Shite!" Constantine had fallen over from his chair to the floor, scrambling to his hands and knees awkwardly to look up at this sudden woman, a very ridiculous reaction for a man who has been to Hell and back. Well, she *did* comply. "Sparkles and shit were a little much." The old Hellblazer picked himself up from the floor, ignoring the wards remark. He thought he reset and strengthened the damn things, but then again, just maybe they were a little selective in who they admitted.
---
"No, leaving your guts all over my bed is a little much, John," Zee said as she folded her arms across her chest. She was missing her top hat out of the entire ensemble, and who had time to go shopping for new clothes after being recently zapped into the city during a backstage after party? "So what's for dinner," she asked then offered the other man in the room a brief wave, "hi."
Cori adjusted his sunglasses, would have offered John assistance if he didn't know better. As for the dinner question, shit he wasn't going to answer that yet! "Hi," he replied flatly then looked to the magus, mouthing the question: No wards??
---
No, no, John briefly mouthed back. Selective wards.
The magus turned to the other magician, a slow smile creeping across his face. Well, he did use her place as a rest house, of sorts. He made himself very comfortable, although he was sure Zatanna did not appreciate what he considered making himself at home. Despite their last encounter, he wrapped his arms around her, very sure this time that this woman was her and not someone posing as her to get close to him for their own purposes, which he sure wouldn't have liked. "Din's later
"Nice to see the old getup again, but you're missing the hat." He wanted to peck her on the cheek, but shit, then there was Cori.
---
"Are you turning the charm on," she asked with a slight smirk at the corner of her lips but Zee opened her arms, accepting the gesture anyway. She hugged the aging Englishman, certain it was him as well, there was an aura sensed between magicians, sort of a unique signature. Zatanna tightened her hold on him, a semi-warning as her sharp heels nudged his thigh. "Watch your hands," she reminded him playfully then looked over his shoulder, "you're Mr. Grins, then?"
Right, broken wards, selective wards, whichever they were there was a good-looking woman sitting on the table with her legs around John's waist. "Yeah but I generally go by the Corinthian," he remarked.
---
Grunt. John had a certain respect for women, and then he had a certain respect for Zee, a warning, semi or full, promptly to be respected, fit to be broken should necessity dictate. He pulled away, still smiling, and a real one at that. His crippled hip was worth seeing her again, worth every sneering glance and shock of pain. "An' I thought I told you he was the Corinthian," he added in humor.
---
She had a certain respect for John too, one of the few men who didn't run when a spell gone awry accidentally ran them through with a saw. And she had a respect for their friendship. After he pulled away the illusionist hopped off the edge of the table and onto her feet. She thrust a hand out to the white-haired man. "I'm Zatanna then, or Zee," the woman offered in kind.
Had John mentioned the magic woman before? Cori knew her by name alone, though they'd never met formally. Hn, the nightmare accepted her hand for a brief shake. "Cori," he stated his now more familiar name.
---
John glanced at the two, taking out a cigarette and lighting as they introduced each other and shook. No tension or malice so far, or anything that merited immediate concern. Good.
"How about we catch up over din then?" He edged over to Cori, leaning against him as he pulled him closer by the shoulder. "We'll make it, even." Didn't want to test the nightmare's potential jealousy over an old flame.
---
"Gar mentioned you're from home," she said to the one dubbed 'Mr. Grins' though she wouldn't actually be calling him that.... often. Zee released his hand then, none the wiser. "Don't trouble yourself John, remember the last time you cooked," the woman raised her hands, ready for... a little... backwards speech? Hmmmm, there was something funny here, besides the man's eyes.
"Sort of," Cori replied when she mentioned 'home' but his toothy gaze shifted sideways as John leaned against him. Smart old magus, his sense of self-preservation was strong after all. "No, I'm cooking," he clarified, though if she could do better with a string of words she was free to try. Better leave that one up to the Englishman.
---
Ah, but a simple rule: "Who's the guest, luv? Don't trouble yourself." Even if it was only a string of words; he was willing to try again, if Cori was helping. He'd stop him from burning down the kitchen or summoning Groobalux from the Third Realm, whichever came first. An old dog was he, at times literally, but he still could pick up a few tricks. The magus ignored the pain that shot through his leg, nothing could take away from his joy, in nibbles or bloody, gaping chunks, to see the lovely Zatanna Zatara again. He masked his normally comfortable hobbling gait to the kitchen.
---
Sharp. Zatanna hid a knowing smile behind her fingertips. Well if they insisted... She raised both hands in a casual shrug. "All right, I'm not picky," most of the time, Zee smiled to the appointed chef, "and I've got hands to help."
"It's nothing," said the nightmare, as long as she didn't conduct a thorough investigation of their refrigerator. "Indian," Cori mentioned to the two, though he already knew John was a fan... of the food, and clearly of Zatanna. He gave the Englishman's shoulder a brief squeeze then a light push. The silent gesture was his invitation to let the lazy bastard be a lazy bastard and catch up with the pretty lady.
"Thanks," she was pretty and she had manners too. Ahh but something about John's gait caught her attention. "So John, you run into trouble these days?"
---
Nothing like being shoved out of a potential chore. John had no qualms with the Corinthian so he motioned Zee over to a couch, still walking with that masked walk of his that wanted to limp but he kept himself from doing so (or so he thought). It hurt. "Would it be me if I weren't in trouble?" he replied in distraction, sitting and sinking in. Hopefully Cori removed any interesting suspicious odors that might have soaked into and lingered in the fabric.
---
A chore to a glutton like Constantine, but considering the general truth that mages were horrible in the kitchen the Corinthian didn't mind. Besides, preparing dinner gave him something to do while being within earshot of the pair. It wasn't that he didn't trust Zatanna, old flame or not he had some faith in John's judgment on the situation, and backwards speech was useless at the receiving end of a punch to the liver.
"True, answering my question with a question, also true," Zee nodded as she followed John to the couch. She perched on the relatively clean sofa arm closest to him. The apartment was clean, too clean for the average laughing magician. "I can fix that, you know," she offered.
---
"Nothing I can't handle." John chewed on the end of his cig a bit. Could backwards talk cure his lycanthropy? Well, that was something he did not want to get out, more or less trouble her with, even if she would find out about it eventually. Don't ask, don't tell. He leaned with his arm sprawled along the back, relaxed, letting the nightmare cook, and listen.
---
"Okay," you stubborn jerk, she thought to herself, "anything else you're handling?" Zee asked with a cool look to John. Although she wasn't one to boast, the illusionist made it a habit to be observant in all her surroundings. This included their studio with its bed, made or left a mess? "It's not everyday you run into that," she added, referring to the man with teeth for eyes.
"You want a drink or something," Cori called back briefly, to the pair.
---
"Give us some tea, won't you? 'Less the lovely lady'll be havin' something else." Sure Zatanna could see through him but he wasn't going to let it all come out that easily. He still played the man of mystery card, even if it wasn't in his hand at times. His voice went low, "So you know what's behind those shadesa' his?"
---
"Tea's good, hot or cold," she chimed in with John, smiling. The Englishman kept interesting friends, types like herself included, no sense in being on the defensive (but that didn't mean she had her guard down either). Zee turned back to the other man and leaned in, voice also low, "I noticed. Anything I should know about them." She spoke as if she was expecting John to tell her outright, if this guy was some demon from the IV Level or an interesting breed of vampire.
---
"One rule: Don't look into'em. Can do some ace things with'em. How many blokes can mix drinks in their skull?" Yeah, and the guy happened to be a nightmare and terrorized people in his sleep for a living, when he wasn't been pushed around by his creator, the King of Dreams. Nothing new. Nothing amazing.
---
Zee arched a brow skeptically. Well that explained the sunglasses... she still liked the theory that he was a special breed of vampire though. Mixing drinks in his skull however evoked a wrinkle of her nose. Interesting, if a little disgusting, but any friend of John's and a live one at that was a friend of hers. "Roger that," she gave a brief salute, "you're sure about the leg?"
By then Cori had brought two cups of hot tea to the table, perfect for a chilly winter and with that get up Zatanna had to be... cold. They didn't have a tin or anything fancy like that either, just some Lipton's brew and a few packets of sugar stolen from the corner café.
---
Oops! Tea! "Cheers, mate," he nodded to Cori as he took a cup and packet for himself, sprinkling it and letting the heat quickly dissolve it. Taking a sip of its steaming contents (he drank like a man, although like a British one), he thought about his leg, wondering if it was that obvious or the pain would not let him walk on it as he normally would have at all, no matter how much he tried. "It's fine, luv."
---
Cori upnodded to them both. "Let me know if you want the milk," he added, anything to keep her out of the fridge.
"Thank you, this is just fine," Zee nodded in appreciation for the tea, tearing a packet open herself. She drank hers like a lady, pinky down though. As soon as the shady one was back in the kitchen she turned her cool blue gaze back to John. Oh she saw through him all right, where his leg was concerned anyway. "If you insist, John hon," said the magic woman, still skeptical but willing to let it go for now, hmm... "Cat?"
---
"I do," the magus confirmed. He could confide but he was not the one to be coddled. "Had a cat. Ran away. Guess it found a better home, it did. TV's possessed too."
---
At least the cure to his hobble was just a few words away, but she wouldn't fix him up right and proper unless under dire circumstances. Hmm, Zee took another sip of her hot tea. "I never knew you to keep pets, life changes?" She asked with a bright smile. "Damn I thought there might be a good special on tonight," she replied to him in jest, ironically not offering to hex the poor boob tube.
---
"Never was one for the telly. Most of what's on is shite anyway, or at least back in London." The cigarette smoldered in its ashtray, not yet finished. Could get a few good drags out of it. "An' I hate animals. Cat was Cori's idea."
---
"Do you get cable," Zee asked with another amused grin, noting the ashtray. Putting the pieces together ever so slowly she couldn't help but ask him another question. "How long have you been here, John?" She held the cup just under her nose, gathering warmth from the ceramic.
---
"Everything it wants." John stared into his tea for a moment. Shit, time flew. Wasn't sure if he was having fun either. "Few months."
---
"And you haven't figured a way out," she replied, eyes widened, "well if you can't figure a way out... What does that spell for me." There was no pun intended in her remark. "I tried casting myself out but it didn't work you know, I sort of wound up back where I started, at some carousel," Zee huffed softly then took another sip.
---
Here, a slow smile crept across the magus' face. "Y'see, luv. I'm not here because I'm stuck here; I'm here because I want to be here." For Cori, he silently added. Only for Cori. "Sure there is a trick to pissing off from here, but I don't care to find it at the moment. Carousel is said to tick until the end of the worlds, or some shit like that, but all it ticked down into was a bloody parade that smelled like a zoo."
---
"........" She quirked a fine black brow at the man. Zatanna had known Constantine for a long time, hearing such a claim from his smoky mouth was near unbelievable, if it weren't for other prevailing circumstances. She refrained from asking the million-dollar question: why. Instead the illusionist sort of just smiled. "I see, you're going to help a girl find a place to stay though, being an old veteran and all," she didn't just say it, she insisted.
---
This made poker face John bite his lip for a moment, briefly uncomfortable, but he recovered. "S'want to room with us or want me to show you around the apartments? Quite a few. Rule here is sleep wherever the hell you like: If you can sleep in it, then you can live in it and no one says anything."
---
"If it's not too much trouble, I kind of set myself up at the library. Really I understand though," she gave the poker man another smile, even reached out to place her hand on his arm briefly. Nothing to worry about, Zee wasn't that intrusive by nature. "The whole sparkles thing was a one time deal, I can knock you know," said the woman with a squeeze to that arm.
"You're staying for dinner, you may as well stay the night," Cori called back over his shoulder. No reason to be inhospitable to his friends, and even John had to care about Zee enough to offer.
---
This evoked a smile. "No trouble with that at all. Night's good with me. If you like it here better, s'great. Wouldn't mind. Think you know I'm not much for mornings. Cori'll tell you." A pause to suck up some of that tea. "Nothing wrong with the sparkles either; they're you. Haven't aged a day either, have you?"
---
"I'll say," Zee agreed based on past experience. She took another sip of her tea then eyeballed Constantine. How amiable he was despite his current situation; stuck on some rock without a clue for months. Not so hardboiled these days. "Now you're just flattering me," she gave his arm a light smack, "but you're absolutely right." Zatanna winked. She had an age, she had a birthday, but these things were most secret, even to John Constantine. "Not bad yourself, new earring?"
---
"Haaaw! I know I am, luv. I lie for a living but then again, sometimes I tell the truth." A sly head tilt and a wiggling of eyebrows. The City was hardly a rock, a mystery to be dug into later. Being away from the glum of London had been alright to him, although with his current double lives, he wasn't sure. At least it was nice to see faces that did not recognize him, betrayed contacts wanting his scalp. The Tate Club must have wanted his head and his bollocks after that stunt he pulled.
To think he had forgotten about the stud. He brought his finger to it, the warm metal reminding him that it was there. "Old hole, new stud. Old ones liked it better in a drain."
---
"At least you've still got that ego," said the magic woman, eyes narrowed slightly, for a laughing magician's ego was both an asset and a disadvantage. She watched his fingers make for the simple stud, a symbol more than anything. Zee had also noticed the other one wore a hoop, but now was not the time to pry. "I remember," she returned a wink to John, "hmm... no puppy?" That was a joke too.
"Ready in ten," the nightmare announced, his timing always impeccable.
---
"Nice," John acknowledged to Cori, turning his head towards the nightmare the best he could. "Smells great." Turning back to Zatanna: "I always will. Just a cat too. No dogs."
---
"It smells good," Zee nodded in agreement, "he cooks." This last part she said to John only, just a general observation, but another question begged for an answer, one she didn't voice just yet out of... hm, consideration. Where in the apartment was the lady going to sleep?
She set her nearly finished tea on the table once more then slid off the arm to sidle closer to the Englishman. Zatanna gave him another hug. "I'm happy to see you, really."
---
"Same here, luv." Better than having the Great Green Git walk in, of sorts. That memory aside, John basked in Zatanna's company, just happy to see one familiar face that wasn't out to bite him in the arse.
The bed was another issue entirely.
---
This time she gave John a kiss to the rough bristly cheek. For once he hadn't come to her looking for help, drunk or stoned or with a kid on his arm destined to learn the ways of magic. After another squeeze Zee released the old man then flipped her black hair over her shoulder. "I'll bet it tastes good," she remarked with a cool look, without specifics.
Having dinner they could mull over such a decision, hiding other details behind a mouthful of curry and what not. To the nightmare this Zatanna woman wasn't so bad after all, but wait until she decided to hop in the shower.
Rating; PG
Characters; Zatanna (
cigamyadyreve), John Constantine (silkcutremix), the Corinthian (bitingnightmare)Summary; the great illusionist drops by to see an old familiar face
Log;
After the launch, a simple string of backwards speech deposited a fishnetted woman with trademark waistcoat and jacket on the edge of the kitchen table. This included a flash bang of smoke and sparkles because the illusionist felt it her right to surprise the magician in the worst way possible. Zee crossed one leg over the other. "No wards?"
"Fuck!" The nightmare who'd been eavesdropping over John's shoulder stumbled back, all the way to the kitchen counter.
---
"Shite!" Constantine had fallen over from his chair to the floor, scrambling to his hands and knees awkwardly to look up at this sudden woman, a very ridiculous reaction for a man who has been to Hell and back. Well, she *did* comply. "Sparkles and shit were a little much." The old Hellblazer picked himself up from the floor, ignoring the wards remark. He thought he reset and strengthened the damn things, but then again, just maybe they were a little selective in who they admitted.
---
"No, leaving your guts all over my bed is a little much, John," Zee said as she folded her arms across her chest. She was missing her top hat out of the entire ensemble, and who had time to go shopping for new clothes after being recently zapped into the city during a backstage after party? "So what's for dinner," she asked then offered the other man in the room a brief wave, "hi."
Cori adjusted his sunglasses, would have offered John assistance if he didn't know better. As for the dinner question, shit he wasn't going to answer that yet! "Hi," he replied flatly then looked to the magus, mouthing the question: No wards??
---
No, no, John briefly mouthed back. Selective wards.
The magus turned to the other magician, a slow smile creeping across his face. Well, he did use her place as a rest house, of sorts. He made himself very comfortable, although he was sure Zatanna did not appreciate what he considered making himself at home. Despite their last encounter, he wrapped his arms around her, very sure this time that this woman was her and not someone posing as her to get close to him for their own purposes, which he sure wouldn't have liked. "Din's later
"Nice to see the old getup again, but you're missing the hat." He wanted to peck her on the cheek, but shit, then there was Cori.
---
"Are you turning the charm on," she asked with a slight smirk at the corner of her lips but Zee opened her arms, accepting the gesture anyway. She hugged the aging Englishman, certain it was him as well, there was an aura sensed between magicians, sort of a unique signature. Zatanna tightened her hold on him, a semi-warning as her sharp heels nudged his thigh. "Watch your hands," she reminded him playfully then looked over his shoulder, "you're Mr. Grins, then?"
Right, broken wards, selective wards, whichever they were there was a good-looking woman sitting on the table with her legs around John's waist. "Yeah but I generally go by the Corinthian," he remarked.
---
Grunt. John had a certain respect for women, and then he had a certain respect for Zee, a warning, semi or full, promptly to be respected, fit to be broken should necessity dictate. He pulled away, still smiling, and a real one at that. His crippled hip was worth seeing her again, worth every sneering glance and shock of pain. "An' I thought I told you he was the Corinthian," he added in humor.
---
She had a certain respect for John too, one of the few men who didn't run when a spell gone awry accidentally ran them through with a saw. And she had a respect for their friendship. After he pulled away the illusionist hopped off the edge of the table and onto her feet. She thrust a hand out to the white-haired man. "I'm Zatanna then, or Zee," the woman offered in kind.
Had John mentioned the magic woman before? Cori knew her by name alone, though they'd never met formally. Hn, the nightmare accepted her hand for a brief shake. "Cori," he stated his now more familiar name.
---
John glanced at the two, taking out a cigarette and lighting as they introduced each other and shook. No tension or malice so far, or anything that merited immediate concern. Good.
"How about we catch up over din then?" He edged over to Cori, leaning against him as he pulled him closer by the shoulder. "We'll make it, even." Didn't want to test the nightmare's potential jealousy over an old flame.
---
"Gar mentioned you're from home," she said to the one dubbed 'Mr. Grins' though she wouldn't actually be calling him that.... often. Zee released his hand then, none the wiser. "Don't trouble yourself John, remember the last time you cooked," the woman raised her hands, ready for... a little... backwards speech? Hmmmm, there was something funny here, besides the man's eyes.
"Sort of," Cori replied when she mentioned 'home' but his toothy gaze shifted sideways as John leaned against him. Smart old magus, his sense of self-preservation was strong after all. "No, I'm cooking," he clarified, though if she could do better with a string of words she was free to try. Better leave that one up to the Englishman.
---
Ah, but a simple rule: "Who's the guest, luv? Don't trouble yourself." Even if it was only a string of words; he was willing to try again, if Cori was helping. He'd stop him from burning down the kitchen or summoning Groobalux from the Third Realm, whichever came first. An old dog was he, at times literally, but he still could pick up a few tricks. The magus ignored the pain that shot through his leg, nothing could take away from his joy, in nibbles or bloody, gaping chunks, to see the lovely Zatanna Zatara again. He masked his normally comfortable hobbling gait to the kitchen.
---
Sharp. Zatanna hid a knowing smile behind her fingertips. Well if they insisted... She raised both hands in a casual shrug. "All right, I'm not picky," most of the time, Zee smiled to the appointed chef, "and I've got hands to help."
"It's nothing," said the nightmare, as long as she didn't conduct a thorough investigation of their refrigerator. "Indian," Cori mentioned to the two, though he already knew John was a fan... of the food, and clearly of Zatanna. He gave the Englishman's shoulder a brief squeeze then a light push. The silent gesture was his invitation to let the lazy bastard be a lazy bastard and catch up with the pretty lady.
"Thanks," she was pretty and she had manners too. Ahh but something about John's gait caught her attention. "So John, you run into trouble these days?"
---
Nothing like being shoved out of a potential chore. John had no qualms with the Corinthian so he motioned Zee over to a couch, still walking with that masked walk of his that wanted to limp but he kept himself from doing so (or so he thought). It hurt. "Would it be me if I weren't in trouble?" he replied in distraction, sitting and sinking in. Hopefully Cori removed any interesting suspicious odors that might have soaked into and lingered in the fabric.
---
A chore to a glutton like Constantine, but considering the general truth that mages were horrible in the kitchen the Corinthian didn't mind. Besides, preparing dinner gave him something to do while being within earshot of the pair. It wasn't that he didn't trust Zatanna, old flame or not he had some faith in John's judgment on the situation, and backwards speech was useless at the receiving end of a punch to the liver.
"True, answering my question with a question, also true," Zee nodded as she followed John to the couch. She perched on the relatively clean sofa arm closest to him. The apartment was clean, too clean for the average laughing magician. "I can fix that, you know," she offered.
---
"Nothing I can't handle." John chewed on the end of his cig a bit. Could backwards talk cure his lycanthropy? Well, that was something he did not want to get out, more or less trouble her with, even if she would find out about it eventually. Don't ask, don't tell. He leaned with his arm sprawled along the back, relaxed, letting the nightmare cook, and listen.
---
"Okay," you stubborn jerk, she thought to herself, "anything else you're handling?" Zee asked with a cool look to John. Although she wasn't one to boast, the illusionist made it a habit to be observant in all her surroundings. This included their studio with its bed, made or left a mess? "It's not everyday you run into that," she added, referring to the man with teeth for eyes.
"You want a drink or something," Cori called back briefly, to the pair.
---
"Give us some tea, won't you? 'Less the lovely lady'll be havin' something else." Sure Zatanna could see through him but he wasn't going to let it all come out that easily. He still played the man of mystery card, even if it wasn't in his hand at times. His voice went low, "So you know what's behind those shadesa' his?"
---
"Tea's good, hot or cold," she chimed in with John, smiling. The Englishman kept interesting friends, types like herself included, no sense in being on the defensive (but that didn't mean she had her guard down either). Zee turned back to the other man and leaned in, voice also low, "I noticed. Anything I should know about them." She spoke as if she was expecting John to tell her outright, if this guy was some demon from the IV Level or an interesting breed of vampire.
---
"One rule: Don't look into'em. Can do some ace things with'em. How many blokes can mix drinks in their skull?" Yeah, and the guy happened to be a nightmare and terrorized people in his sleep for a living, when he wasn't been pushed around by his creator, the King of Dreams. Nothing new. Nothing amazing.
---
Zee arched a brow skeptically. Well that explained the sunglasses... she still liked the theory that he was a special breed of vampire though. Mixing drinks in his skull however evoked a wrinkle of her nose. Interesting, if a little disgusting, but any friend of John's and a live one at that was a friend of hers. "Roger that," she gave a brief salute, "you're sure about the leg?"
By then Cori had brought two cups of hot tea to the table, perfect for a chilly winter and with that get up Zatanna had to be... cold. They didn't have a tin or anything fancy like that either, just some Lipton's brew and a few packets of sugar stolen from the corner café.
---
Oops! Tea! "Cheers, mate," he nodded to Cori as he took a cup and packet for himself, sprinkling it and letting the heat quickly dissolve it. Taking a sip of its steaming contents (he drank like a man, although like a British one), he thought about his leg, wondering if it was that obvious or the pain would not let him walk on it as he normally would have at all, no matter how much he tried. "It's fine, luv."
---
Cori upnodded to them both. "Let me know if you want the milk," he added, anything to keep her out of the fridge.
"Thank you, this is just fine," Zee nodded in appreciation for the tea, tearing a packet open herself. She drank hers like a lady, pinky down though. As soon as the shady one was back in the kitchen she turned her cool blue gaze back to John. Oh she saw through him all right, where his leg was concerned anyway. "If you insist, John hon," said the magic woman, still skeptical but willing to let it go for now, hmm... "Cat?"
---
"I do," the magus confirmed. He could confide but he was not the one to be coddled. "Had a cat. Ran away. Guess it found a better home, it did. TV's possessed too."
---
At least the cure to his hobble was just a few words away, but she wouldn't fix him up right and proper unless under dire circumstances. Hmm, Zee took another sip of her hot tea. "I never knew you to keep pets, life changes?" She asked with a bright smile. "Damn I thought there might be a good special on tonight," she replied to him in jest, ironically not offering to hex the poor boob tube.
---
"Never was one for the telly. Most of what's on is shite anyway, or at least back in London." The cigarette smoldered in its ashtray, not yet finished. Could get a few good drags out of it. "An' I hate animals. Cat was Cori's idea."
---
"Do you get cable," Zee asked with another amused grin, noting the ashtray. Putting the pieces together ever so slowly she couldn't help but ask him another question. "How long have you been here, John?" She held the cup just under her nose, gathering warmth from the ceramic.
---
"Everything it wants." John stared into his tea for a moment. Shit, time flew. Wasn't sure if he was having fun either. "Few months."
---
"And you haven't figured a way out," she replied, eyes widened, "well if you can't figure a way out... What does that spell for me." There was no pun intended in her remark. "I tried casting myself out but it didn't work you know, I sort of wound up back where I started, at some carousel," Zee huffed softly then took another sip.
---
Here, a slow smile crept across the magus' face. "Y'see, luv. I'm not here because I'm stuck here; I'm here because I want to be here." For Cori, he silently added. Only for Cori. "Sure there is a trick to pissing off from here, but I don't care to find it at the moment. Carousel is said to tick until the end of the worlds, or some shit like that, but all it ticked down into was a bloody parade that smelled like a zoo."
---
"........" She quirked a fine black brow at the man. Zatanna had known Constantine for a long time, hearing such a claim from his smoky mouth was near unbelievable, if it weren't for other prevailing circumstances. She refrained from asking the million-dollar question: why. Instead the illusionist sort of just smiled. "I see, you're going to help a girl find a place to stay though, being an old veteran and all," she didn't just say it, she insisted.
---
This made poker face John bite his lip for a moment, briefly uncomfortable, but he recovered. "S'want to room with us or want me to show you around the apartments? Quite a few. Rule here is sleep wherever the hell you like: If you can sleep in it, then you can live in it and no one says anything."
---
"If it's not too much trouble, I kind of set myself up at the library. Really I understand though," she gave the poker man another smile, even reached out to place her hand on his arm briefly. Nothing to worry about, Zee wasn't that intrusive by nature. "The whole sparkles thing was a one time deal, I can knock you know," said the woman with a squeeze to that arm.
"You're staying for dinner, you may as well stay the night," Cori called back over his shoulder. No reason to be inhospitable to his friends, and even John had to care about Zee enough to offer.
---
This evoked a smile. "No trouble with that at all. Night's good with me. If you like it here better, s'great. Wouldn't mind. Think you know I'm not much for mornings. Cori'll tell you." A pause to suck up some of that tea. "Nothing wrong with the sparkles either; they're you. Haven't aged a day either, have you?"
---
"I'll say," Zee agreed based on past experience. She took another sip of her tea then eyeballed Constantine. How amiable he was despite his current situation; stuck on some rock without a clue for months. Not so hardboiled these days. "Now you're just flattering me," she gave his arm a light smack, "but you're absolutely right." Zatanna winked. She had an age, she had a birthday, but these things were most secret, even to John Constantine. "Not bad yourself, new earring?"
---
"Haaaw! I know I am, luv. I lie for a living but then again, sometimes I tell the truth." A sly head tilt and a wiggling of eyebrows. The City was hardly a rock, a mystery to be dug into later. Being away from the glum of London had been alright to him, although with his current double lives, he wasn't sure. At least it was nice to see faces that did not recognize him, betrayed contacts wanting his scalp. The Tate Club must have wanted his head and his bollocks after that stunt he pulled.
To think he had forgotten about the stud. He brought his finger to it, the warm metal reminding him that it was there. "Old hole, new stud. Old ones liked it better in a drain."
---
"At least you've still got that ego," said the magic woman, eyes narrowed slightly, for a laughing magician's ego was both an asset and a disadvantage. She watched his fingers make for the simple stud, a symbol more than anything. Zee had also noticed the other one wore a hoop, but now was not the time to pry. "I remember," she returned a wink to John, "hmm... no puppy?" That was a joke too.
"Ready in ten," the nightmare announced, his timing always impeccable.
---
"Nice," John acknowledged to Cori, turning his head towards the nightmare the best he could. "Smells great." Turning back to Zatanna: "I always will. Just a cat too. No dogs."
---
"It smells good," Zee nodded in agreement, "he cooks." This last part she said to John only, just a general observation, but another question begged for an answer, one she didn't voice just yet out of... hm, consideration. Where in the apartment was the lady going to sleep?
She set her nearly finished tea on the table once more then slid off the arm to sidle closer to the Englishman. Zatanna gave him another hug. "I'm happy to see you, really."
---
"Same here, luv." Better than having the Great Green Git walk in, of sorts. That memory aside, John basked in Zatanna's company, just happy to see one familiar face that wasn't out to bite him in the arse.
The bed was another issue entirely.
---
This time she gave John a kiss to the rough bristly cheek. For once he hadn't come to her looking for help, drunk or stoned or with a kid on his arm destined to learn the ways of magic. After another squeeze Zee released the old man then flipped her black hair over her shoulder. "I'll bet it tastes good," she remarked with a cool look, without specifics.
Having dinner they could mull over such a decision, hiding other details behind a mouthful of curry and what not. To the nightmare this Zatanna woman wasn't so bad after all, but wait until she decided to hop in the shower.