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tampered2007-03-15 12:27 pm
bitingnightmare.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-03-15 12:27 pm
Log; Complete
When; Mar. 15 (afternoon)
Rating; PG-13 (language)
Characters; John Constantine![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silkcutremix, the Corinthian bitingnightmare
Summary; The magus learns what the nightmare meant as a result of thissordid bet.
Log;
After a good day of thinking, almost to the 24 hour dot that started this competition, the Corinthian was ready to escort John Constantine to the clipper's chair, in a manner of speaking. He'd spent the rest of yesterday's sordid afternoon making sure that couch was still presentable to guests though they didn't get many. Good for them, there was enough scent mark in it... not to mention the fur.
"All right," Cori beckoned John, now dressed in his jeans and shirt. "We're going out."
---
John had perked up from the terminal, having left Cori do the dirty work of cleaning. Sure John could clean if it was demanded of him to do so but typically he still was anything but the housemaid. That and the nightmare seemed all too willing to do it.
The magus wasn't consumed with worry either, the bet already gone from his mind, a joke to compliment the sex. He got up this time to retrieve his tie, his shirt open this time with a pair of trousers. "Where to?"
---
He did fancy the housecleaning bit, mainly for the reason that if he didn't do it Constantine would surely wait until the fibers were molding to do it himself. The clean creature within the nightmare simply couldn't take that risk. He shrugged his jacket over his shoulders, teeth eyes watching the blonde retrieve his trademark tie.
"Ditch the clothes, you won't need it where we're going," Cori shook his head. There was something hanging from his hand, that special band branded with a name befitting only of a particular Englishman.
---
"We're going for a haircut, aren't we?" John cocked a brow, his eyes knowing the item in question too well. The tie still was in his hand having yet to be slung over his shoulders, the magus in pause.
---
Already on to his trick, however the Corinthian shouldn't have to trick the conman into going as it was the terms of their bet. "About time," nodded the white blonde, giving the item in his hand a brief twirl around his winning fingers.
---
John ran his hand through his hair for emphasis, unease drifting across his features. "I thought it was this one."
---
"Winner's choice wasn't it. Come on, this way who's really going to see it," he replied with a grin. "Be a sport?"
---
John stood there for a moment, brow furrowed intently. This could have been anything but this anything was under the umbrella of "fucking humiliating." "You better not give me a goddamned poodle cut." The trail along his belly had whitened and thickened as he set the tie aside to undo his trousers, but the act was slow, John having yet to take his eyes of sure victorious Cori.
---
"I have better taste than that," said the victorious Cori, hand to his chin in thought. Yes, what he had in mind was definitely more suiting of an English magus. Ahh, his grin became a subtle smile as the man's hair whitened. Even if it was slow at the very least John was playing along. He unbuckled the collar.
---
"I am afraid where that taste is going to take me," John replied, stepping out of his trousers and skivvies, throwing off the shirt. The rest came easily, the smooth transition between shapes almost an art, Constantine approaching that collar almost begrudgingly, shrugging his shoulders forward as they popped into place, at the Corinthian's feet on all four of his own. His blue gaze under that white brow was intense, his head, ears and tail low.
---
Did he have to look at him like that? Cori noted the skulk in his demeanor, his own expression softening just a little. No it would not be enough to make him back out of his own victory. The nightmare however kneeled down to buckle that collar around the wolf's thick neck. Hmm...
"Chin up," he said with a scratch under John's jaw. Dog liked it there right?
---
Dammit, John, growling in his throat with an harsh rumble, was going to have to try harder than that, but it certainly wasn't going to involve him begging. There had to be a leash attached to the collar and giving his neck a paw, it was secure and snug around his neck. Cori had his bases covered, but certainly if he could weasel his way out of an Arkham-brand straight jacket...
---
Better. While Cori preferred to walk with John unleashed it was not likely that he could do the same where they were going. Safety precautions really. He gave the man another rub between the ears before getting to his feet, leash hooked on properly and looped around one hand.
"Follow me," he said, as if that really gave the wolf magus a choice. Really though, John could use the exercise... a thought Cori decided not to express aloud. He opened the door to their apartment, gesturing for John to trot out first.
---
Considering exercise for the magus wasn't a bad suggestion either, although John would have not cared to admit it. His fur and hide rippled with that all too usual rolling-limping gait of his as he kept up with him. He said nothing, only wondering what one could do with a razor to his excess of hair.
---
John was going to learn that they could do many things with a razor and some trimmers. Their walk took a good few blocks towards the center of the City, with citizens no doubt reeling from their interesting activities the day before. Down by a street corner was a simple sign: High Maintenance Bitch.
"Tits are involved, I know you like that," said Cori, gesturing to the specialized grooming parlor. "Come on," he opened the door for the large 'malamutt.'
---
John did not mind a walk or tits provided his balls or pride would be intact. He uneasily trotted inside, never mind the sign (bitches, not sons of bitches, shit), considering pissing on the floor when he had noticed that, buggering hell, he had his prince in. Forgot to take it out, fuck. Might have ended up pissing on more than the floor in that case.
A woman, glasses thin and hair a bright bright artificial red, was buffing her nails at the counter. At the sound of the door's bell tinkling, she looked up, grinning at both the man and his impressive animal. "Hello, sir. How are you and your friend today?"
---
Did the flashy little redhead have an impressive set? Cori liked to think so, even if such assets weren't his preference. He could tell the difference between a perfect pair and a sub par one. For this little victory he needed that lovely lady to have the former.
Cori walked his little sonuvabitch to the counter. He rest his free arm on the edge and flashed the redhead a handsome grin. "Doing well, thanks. How does a walk-in sound," asked the nightmare, charming.
---
The redhead, her lips berries, studied the newcomer. Never seen him before, white as his animal, but she had seen dogs of that size. Always mastiffs and great danes. A pyranees mix, maybe? She had a certain admiration for his collar.
"Clever," she grinned. She did not have perky tits but for John's sake, she was not going to be his groomer, oh no. She leaned over the schedule giving it a glance. "Well isn't it your friend's lucky day, we should be about to take you in now."
John did not wag or smile or pant. He stared, unimpressed even through his canine myopia.
---
"Perfect, he needs a bath. Real hard getting his type under the hose you know," Cori remarked with a wink to Ms. Redhead. Hmm if she worked the counter, one wondered who was handling the grooming area. "I've got a special request, I guess I should talk to the clipper about that," he nodded.
---
The Redhead smiled, ringing the nightmare up for a bath and groom. "You oughta'. He's pretty good at taking requests. Amazing too. He can do anything." Then she eyed him: "You know, this must be your first time here, right?"
He, Constantine snorted, straining against the leash.
---
Well call him a downright chauvinist pig for thinking only women worked these kinds of places. Ahem, Cori subdued the surprise in his expression thankful to have those sunglasses in place. "Yeah, it is. There aren't enough people willing to work with this guy," he said to the woman, keeping his grip on the leash. Think fast Corinthian.
---
The redhead cocked a brow. Familiar with dogs, she could see the animal's tension, although she had yet to sense that it had possessed intelligence beyond that of any other canine. "I've seen him deal with difficult dogs. Your friend there will love him."
The leash had yet to lose tension.
---
"Great. We'll wait here until he's ready to take him," said the nightmare with his own familiar grin. Ahem, the taut leash had not gone unnoticed. He took the opportunity to reach down and pet John between the ears. "Come on, give it a chance," said Cori with a note of faint apology in his tone. Nobody had to know the wolf magus understood English perfectly.
---
There was something touching about seeing a man tend to his dog, "Ms. Redhead" reaching under the desk to produce a form. "In the meantime you can fill this out for us for our records for discount's sake. It's best we establish a relationship between us and the customer, you know?"
---
"Of course," said the Corinthian, more than willing to follow protocol even if it had little legal use in this realm. These mundane procedures lent a sense of order and normalcy to the City though. He used their false identities while filling out the forms; Alex Corinth and Bastard.
Teeth eyes took in the rest of the shop in the meantime, on the lookout for this male groomer.
---
Constantine had continued resignation through the whole experience, occupying himself with the odors dripping from every corner of the store. Some were... interesting to say at least. Aside, he never whined or barked or groaned, sitting there, wondering what could this "special request" be.
Eventually, he heard something rhythmically clunk against the tile, a man taking a gander at the duo, considering them thoughtfully. A brief glance and a squint told him he was in his thirties but certainly wasn't ready to accept that fact, carrying on with his ways with a rare grace. His ear had holes in it for one, the varying jewelry taken out should a nervous animal dare to take a nip at one of them. There was youth in his brown eyes, his air energetic. His hair was short, wild.
"You must be the walk-in Irma mentioned." He bent over, fist out towards Constantine's nose to allow him a sniff. "Who's this fella'?"
---
Something guaranteed to bring the old bastard back to his youth, though the style and color of choice was largely Cori's speculation. But hell any streetwise magician with a background in the CBGB had to have an appreciation for such flare. The nightmare currently was investigating this young buck.
"I think so. Bastard," answered the white blonde in a cool tone. The gentlemanly groomer seemed nice enough.
---
"Cool name," the groomer replied, somewhat puzzled but Bastard here might have been shy, scared. No sniffing. He looked over the animal for any muscle tension. "What makes him such a bastard, other than his... eh, difficulties?" He stood up, gesturing for the paperwork should it have been done.
---
Cori handed the completed paperwork over to the groomer. "His attitude I imagine," said the nightmare with a knowing smirk to the wolf magus.
---
John huffed, the groomer looking over the paperwork. Forms for the sake of normalcy in a place of what felt like borderline anarchy. Exploding forests and shadow panthers and dinosaurs... It was a bit rough on business but he had long since grown accustomed to such... interesting quirks of City life. No use in complaining about things one couldn't change so he kept his chin up about it and stayed indoors when it counted.
"Attitude, huh?" he gave Constantine a sly look that begged the fussy animal to test him. "Come with me, Mr. Corinth. I'm going to give this to Irma on the way there and we'll get started."
---
Someone had to make it seem like the City was running on some kind of economy. Cori gave the leash a gentle tug, urging the malamutt to walk with them. "I'm going to be here the whole time," he said to Constantine with another scritch behind the ears.
"He's shedding all over the place, that's really why we're here...." he prompted the groomer for a name.
---
"Hm?" he caught onto the cue, "Oh, Geoff. Name's Geoff, Mr. Corinth." A smile was flashed, those eyes sparking not unlike Constantine's; much as the magus had thrived on his magic, Geoff had loved his work, the bloated excuse for an economy hardly a reason except giving him a means to do what he wanted. Placing the papers on the receptionist's, of sort's, desk, he added, "Irma mentioned a special request..."
Constantine meanwhile had straggled, barely following despite the reassurances Cori provided. Aside, that collar he had on was nothing compared to a straight jacket, yes?
---
Nothing compared to a straight jacket, but was John really planning to make a break for it? Doing so would severely lower the nightmare's sympathy towards his plight. In any case he nodded once to 'Geoff' regarding that special request.
"I think he needs a little style," Cori kept his voice low for the groomer's ears only, though it was likely John heard him too. "A good trim down the side, leave a few inches from head to tail, give him a nice ridge," he grinned.
---
Cori never had wolf ears, hadn't he? Or at least long enough to know that Constantine could plainly hear this and he wasn't interested in any kind of ridge or style. Either way, Constantine wasn't ready to submit himself to this bollocks so easily, even on a bet. There were other ways to chip at his pride, the skilled escape artist able to slide away without even a hint of suggestive tension.
"Spring's coming, isn't it? Your dog looks like the type to blow his coat." Taking a glance at Bastard for another study on how to make this ridge work, he saw Mr. Corinth, but no dog. "And he just slipped out of his collar."
---
"Yeah it is, I did the fucking vacuuming yesterday. He clogs the shit out of the filter."
Christ did the happy housemaid just say that? Cori immediately considered remedying that slip of the tongue with some vile course language but Geoff here drew his attention to the slack in the leash. He felt the Bastard collar knock against his leg, empty.
"Damnit," muttered the nightmare, "don't make a run for it." He searched the immediate area for John. He was a large thing, couldn't miss him unless he was using the magic.
---
Geoff had every reason to be worried; Mr. Corinth had a very large dog and it was a very large Northern dog. Once that animal got out and was running... The groomer, having greater worries than imagining a dusting of dog hair through the household, joined in the search. He was not the one to lose customers this way.
However, searching for a large wolf was one thing. Searching for a large wolfmagus was another. The magus was a momentary glimpse of bushy white beyond the glass door.
---
Cori hissed a few curses to himself, ones John likely couldn't here. Nevertheless, he was determined to reclaim the wolf magus, and as punishment, he now had a little color theory to go with that cut. The nightmare looped the leash around his hand then made way to exit the store without speaking his plan to Geoff.
Your poor sport, he thought in a mutter. Fortunately this little scenario had been anticipated. As soon as he landed on the sidewalk Cori didn't even bother calling out to the white dog as he removed it from his liner pocket. Not just one silkie, no. He had the whole pack on him.
---
Constantine was a dot on the other end of the sidewalk, ready to disappear over the edge, but there he was, ears pricked and head up at attention. Just that tiny crinkle was enough to send him right back over, although he stopped ten feet away from the nightmare, to be cautious.
"You think you have me by the balls, don't you, mate?"
---
Crinkle crinkle. He noted the white dog at the other end but didn't say a word until he had one of those cigarettes lit, making sure the scent wafted in John's direction. "Not as well as I did yesterday. Come on, you need the bath and trim," reasoned the Corinthian. The style (and forthcoming dye job) were just perks. "There's a cigarette in it for you."
---
"I can procure it in other ways," Constantine snorted, offering a head tilt.
---
"But I've got one right here for you," so convenient! He blew the smoke rising from the lit end towards John. Despite their distance he knew the man could smell it. "Are you going to make me beg?"
---
"You're going to get me a normal haircut," John growled, addiction tickling his lungs.
---
Was anyone watching this odd (but not so odd for the City) scene unfold? Cori glanced left then right, before failing to concede to John's request. He knelt down again, bringing the cigarette to wolf magus' level so he wouldn't have to make the effort to get on his hind legs. So convenient. Just right here.
---
Constantine found himself approaching that morsel of vice though, even if he cautioned himself that the nightmare was manipulating him. If he hadn't been such a chain smoker, wrapping Cori around his finger... paw digit might have been an easier feat.
But no, his whiskers brushed the filter instead.
---
He let those whiskers touch the filter, closer now... Towards the door. He made sure that scent never left the magician's black heart nose either. Whatever Geoff and Irma there might be thinking, Cori hoped at least one of them would keep the door open despite the fact that he was trying to lure his 'dog' with a cigarette.
---
Geoff was watching these scene, after the animal had spoken, puzzled without a doubt but he let them go, as long as it kept the animal under control. He caught the cue to prop the door open, allowing the pair inside. Questions later.
There was a small clip of teeth as Constantine tried to steal the fag away from the nightmare's fingers.
---
He felt the snap against his fingertips. Almost. It was like a little game, keep away as any dog owner would call it, but John here was smarter than the average dog in his own way. Cori got to his feet but remained in a crouch, edging back into the store before offering the cigarette to the wolf magus. He tilted his head, another cue to get that door closed.
---
The door tinkled shut, leaving John under supervision and at the mercy of whatever the groomer, Cori or anyone else wanted to dish out. Too bad the tight grip of addiction constricted Constantine's lungs like a famished boa, trying again to have at that filter end, ignoring the nightmare wielding it.
---
He let the malamutt magus have a nip at the filter now that they were in the confines of the grooming shop. Right, how to explain that to Geoff and Irma... At least they weren't like that vet woman, encouraging neutering to deter his wayward will.
"It's all in the know how," Cori said to the pair with confidence and a cool run of his fingers through his own white hair.
---
Irma and Geoff exchanged glances. Unlike the vet, they had seen pet spoiling in various degrees. They would not put a cigarette-addicted dog aside but they were groomers, not veterinarians. Surely Bastard's vet was aware of this and would have curbed his behavior. Not that a smoking dog was a healthy thing or something to condone to begin with. Irma would leave that up to Geoff to ask about.
Know how what? John had the cigarette now, his focus able to snap to something else. It had occurred to him that yes indeed, the Corinthian had manipulated him. Him. He almost bit the filter in two, hackles rising in furious indignance.
Geoff added, "leash him up so we can try to get started again."
---
Add to that the fact that this dog had spoken prior to his munching the cigarette... Good thing they didn't offer their professional opinion on the matter. Cori trusted them to handle the buzzer and scissors, leave the healthcare to the nightmare. He reached down to scratch the indignant Constantine under his chin.
"Thanks," said the white blonde, whether John appreciated it or not. Click, he buckled and hooked both collar and leash onto his furry neck again. "There. You've got to keep an eye on him all the time," Cori nodded to the pair, the irony being he had no eyes behind those shades.
---
It took every tiny fiber of restraint to keep himself from backing away and making another, bolder break for it out of prideful anger. Feeling that collar chaff against every strain of hair Constantine never fancied himself a hothead but sometimes the nightmare tested even him. That aside, he could... always shift out of it, right? He made a note to check himself in a mirror should he pass one just to make sure of how much hair was on top of his head. Anything there would have to show up in his normal, more comfortable skin.
"I've known some regular Houdini's," Geoff resumed his professional smile, showing them to a well back room with glass walls for viewing. Everything needed was there: the tables, tethers and tubs. "We're going to start with a wash. It'd make grooming much easier."
---
That was the idea at least, that John could always shift out of his new haircut, ridge and color included. Cori hadn't noticed any white hairs creeping into his vibrant yellow top yet. As for testing the magician, hell that was the nightmare's special skill; capable of pulling the wolf magus along to the bath for a second time (anyone who knew Constantine knew he could leave if he truly wanted to), capable of willing the other to 'let him win'.
"Nobody wants a repeat performance," he grinned at Geoff, ready to transfer the leash power to him. "Sounds like a plan, if he gives you trouble knock on the glass. There's plenty more where that came from," Cori gestured to the Silk Cuts in his pocket.
---
John had intended to keep his unusually vibrant blonde coloration for as long as he could manage. Any sort of white hair he would develop was best kept to the shaggy pelt he donned for now. He stiffened his legs a bit just to be a pain in the arse.
Geoff, meanwhile, gestured for the leash, not really sure if he wanted to be alone with the great white monster, but he gave him the benefit of a doubt and another chance. "I will, uh." He looked down at the silly cigarette smoking and sticking out of his jowls. "Does he bite?"
---
Cori had little worry regarding hair coloration. His was and would always be as far as he knew (for now...) white like fucking snow. It took the pressure of graying off his shoulders really, at the same time it was sort of an odd lack of pigmentation. The color of fear.
"Only if you hurt him," Cori replied. His grin widened while handing the leash off to Geoff. He would spare John the indignity of offering to muzzle the monster. That was the groomer's decision in any case.
---
Much against John's dignity, the groomer wasn't feeling too comfortable still. It had to have been his size or the cold something in his eyes that indicated something else he could not yet explain. He took the leash, half expecting the animal to run away out of the hands of his master, but he stayed there, looking up at him from under that heavy brow with those intense blue eyes.
"Can I muzzle him, for my sake? I hope he doesn't mind but I gotta' have my fingers intact to work on him, you know."
John glared. Then how can I enjoy this bloody wonderful cigarette without worrying about *burning* the sodding muzzle *and* worry about torching your *fine* establishment down?
---
"Give him a moment to finish his smoke first," Cori nodded to Geoff, ever a fine master. Never mind that glare, at the very least the nicotine fix might soothe the savage beast first. "He won't take long, ol'Bastard's not one for wasting a cancer stick," the nightmare smiled again before giving the large canine's bum a little nudge from his boot.
---
John's throat bubbled in grumbling annoyance at the pressure on his back end, knowing he'd savor every particle of his fucking cig. Geoff in turn nodded and handed the leash back to Cori. "Let me find a muzzle his size then, alright? I'll be right back."
---
He took the leash back into his hand and nodded once. "All right," said the Corinthian, no doubt giving them another moment to exchange words, if John had any for the nightmare. "I won't smoke any while you're in there," he said to the wolf magus.
---
No, because you have your *own* cigs and you won't like it if I find out, Constantine grunted harshly, taking his sweet time.
---
What a cranky old bastard. Cori couldn't help but smirk as he crouched down to John's level again. He reached under the man--er... dog to rub his belly, not enough to get that leg kicking perhaps but it was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. "They're all yours, babe," a pet name for a seemingly average pet.
---
Oh, Cori wasn't going to warm him over to whatever he wanted to inflict on his furry hide so easily. John shuffled a bit, giving the nightmare a cold look that was only enhanced by those icy eyes of his.
---
In that case, he used his nails to actively scratch along that furry hide, the belly in particular to get a little foot wheeling. Maybe he could even get the old man to conclude he was 'letting him' warm that grouchy wolf magus right up.
---
"Corrrrri," John hissed under his breath, cigarette still secure in his teeth, only half to go (shit). To any casual passers by, the noise would have been another funny canine murble not unlike whatever else made by a husky. His leg twitched alright, pelt with it like an irritated horse.
---
Muuuuuch better. He made sure to keep the leash hand on the ready should John accidentally lose grasp of his cigarette. The nightmare kept his scratching paced and even, knowing the magician couldn't stand to pass up such a treatment. "Good boy," he whispered into that furry ear.
---
Only a few months ago and Constantine would have better accepted this resignation to a more doggy state but no, Constantine was very sure he was John fucking Constantine and not a completely tamped house pet just yet. He had to concentrate a bit however to keep his jaws on the damaged cigarette filter and not let it fall to the floor.
"You'd think."
---
He wasn't going to look like any old house pet once Geoff here was through with the nightmare's plans hehehe... He had one more thing to add though. Teeth eyes glanced upward again for either the man or woman, but preferably he'd share it with Irma once John was behind the glass walls.
"Play nice," he reminded the blonde, scratching along his ribs.
---
Constantine melted towards Cori as much as he didn't want to. He could sense that Irma was not nearby. His voice shouldn't be audible, or recognizable, giving it a bit more husky grumble: "You told him I bite when I'm hurt."
---
"You would wouldn't you. I wouldn't take a Chelsea boy," and this was only speculation on the Corinthian's part, "cutting my tail without a little payback." He spoke for the wolf magus' ears only.
---
"Found one." It was Geoff with an appropriate muzzle for his waiting, er, smoking customer, approaching the pair ready to go. He sank to knee level, noticing the dog was still not finished but almost. That almost Constantine was savoring as if that Silk Cut was the very last one in all of existence. He eyed Cori; Chelsea boy, eh? Never was the one for football, or feet pressing on his bum, anyway.
---
As in a ponce, a prat, a fag, but not like the one in John's jaws. He pulled his hand away so Geoff could apply the muzzle to the large malamutt, ready to take the filter as soon as Constantine was through with it. "Good boy," Cori reiterated with a grin.
---
You're flattering me, Constantine growled, ears flat. The ash and cinder were very slowly creeping towards that filter. Almost there, almost there, fuck...
---
Very much so, but it wasn't flattery undeserved. He appreciated John not pulling another Houdini on them, and furthermore he appreciated John not acting the sore loser, whether he comforted himself by thinking he let Cori win or not. Ahh seeing those embers burn down to the filter... he held his fingers to the cigarette, ready to toss the butt.
---
The filter left and slowly that muzzle was placed around Constantine's face, effectively keeping him from biting or smoking. The smell of old saliva from other dogs was overwhelming, John almost able to taste it. He assured himself that if worst came to worst John could slip out but upon feeling the groomer take the leash and take him away, the magus gave the nightmare a feeble, dirty look before he disappeared behind the closing door.
Rating; PG-13 (language)
Characters; John Constantine
silkcutremix, the Corinthian bitingnightmareSummary; The magus learns what the nightmare meant as a result of this
Log;
After a good day of thinking, almost to the 24 hour dot that started this competition, the Corinthian was ready to escort John Constantine to the clipper's chair, in a manner of speaking. He'd spent the rest of yesterday's sordid afternoon making sure that couch was still presentable to guests though they didn't get many. Good for them, there was enough scent mark in it... not to mention the fur.
"All right," Cori beckoned John, now dressed in his jeans and shirt. "We're going out."
---
John had perked up from the terminal, having left Cori do the dirty work of cleaning. Sure John could clean if it was demanded of him to do so but typically he still was anything but the housemaid. That and the nightmare seemed all too willing to do it.
The magus wasn't consumed with worry either, the bet already gone from his mind, a joke to compliment the sex. He got up this time to retrieve his tie, his shirt open this time with a pair of trousers. "Where to?"
---
He did fancy the housecleaning bit, mainly for the reason that if he didn't do it Constantine would surely wait until the fibers were molding to do it himself. The clean creature within the nightmare simply couldn't take that risk. He shrugged his jacket over his shoulders, teeth eyes watching the blonde retrieve his trademark tie.
"Ditch the clothes, you won't need it where we're going," Cori shook his head. There was something hanging from his hand, that special band branded with a name befitting only of a particular Englishman.
---
"We're going for a haircut, aren't we?" John cocked a brow, his eyes knowing the item in question too well. The tie still was in his hand having yet to be slung over his shoulders, the magus in pause.
---
Already on to his trick, however the Corinthian shouldn't have to trick the conman into going as it was the terms of their bet. "About time," nodded the white blonde, giving the item in his hand a brief twirl around his winning fingers.
---
John ran his hand through his hair for emphasis, unease drifting across his features. "I thought it was this one."
---
"Winner's choice wasn't it. Come on, this way who's really going to see it," he replied with a grin. "Be a sport?"
---
John stood there for a moment, brow furrowed intently. This could have been anything but this anything was under the umbrella of "fucking humiliating." "You better not give me a goddamned poodle cut." The trail along his belly had whitened and thickened as he set the tie aside to undo his trousers, but the act was slow, John having yet to take his eyes of sure victorious Cori.
---
"I have better taste than that," said the victorious Cori, hand to his chin in thought. Yes, what he had in mind was definitely more suiting of an English magus. Ahh, his grin became a subtle smile as the man's hair whitened. Even if it was slow at the very least John was playing along. He unbuckled the collar.
---
"I am afraid where that taste is going to take me," John replied, stepping out of his trousers and skivvies, throwing off the shirt. The rest came easily, the smooth transition between shapes almost an art, Constantine approaching that collar almost begrudgingly, shrugging his shoulders forward as they popped into place, at the Corinthian's feet on all four of his own. His blue gaze under that white brow was intense, his head, ears and tail low.
---
Did he have to look at him like that? Cori noted the skulk in his demeanor, his own expression softening just a little. No it would not be enough to make him back out of his own victory. The nightmare however kneeled down to buckle that collar around the wolf's thick neck. Hmm...
"Chin up," he said with a scratch under John's jaw. Dog liked it there right?
---
Dammit, John, growling in his throat with an harsh rumble, was going to have to try harder than that, but it certainly wasn't going to involve him begging. There had to be a leash attached to the collar and giving his neck a paw, it was secure and snug around his neck. Cori had his bases covered, but certainly if he could weasel his way out of an Arkham-brand straight jacket...
---
Better. While Cori preferred to walk with John unleashed it was not likely that he could do the same where they were going. Safety precautions really. He gave the man another rub between the ears before getting to his feet, leash hooked on properly and looped around one hand.
"Follow me," he said, as if that really gave the wolf magus a choice. Really though, John could use the exercise... a thought Cori decided not to express aloud. He opened the door to their apartment, gesturing for John to trot out first.
---
Considering exercise for the magus wasn't a bad suggestion either, although John would have not cared to admit it. His fur and hide rippled with that all too usual rolling-limping gait of his as he kept up with him. He said nothing, only wondering what one could do with a razor to his excess of hair.
---
John was going to learn that they could do many things with a razor and some trimmers. Their walk took a good few blocks towards the center of the City, with citizens no doubt reeling from their interesting activities the day before. Down by a street corner was a simple sign: High Maintenance Bitch.
"Tits are involved, I know you like that," said Cori, gesturing to the specialized grooming parlor. "Come on," he opened the door for the large 'malamutt.'
---
John did not mind a walk or tits provided his balls or pride would be intact. He uneasily trotted inside, never mind the sign (bitches, not sons of bitches, shit), considering pissing on the floor when he had noticed that, buggering hell, he had his prince in. Forgot to take it out, fuck. Might have ended up pissing on more than the floor in that case.
A woman, glasses thin and hair a bright bright artificial red, was buffing her nails at the counter. At the sound of the door's bell tinkling, she looked up, grinning at both the man and his impressive animal. "Hello, sir. How are you and your friend today?"
---
Did the flashy little redhead have an impressive set? Cori liked to think so, even if such assets weren't his preference. He could tell the difference between a perfect pair and a sub par one. For this little victory he needed that lovely lady to have the former.
Cori walked his little sonuvabitch to the counter. He rest his free arm on the edge and flashed the redhead a handsome grin. "Doing well, thanks. How does a walk-in sound," asked the nightmare, charming.
---
The redhead, her lips berries, studied the newcomer. Never seen him before, white as his animal, but she had seen dogs of that size. Always mastiffs and great danes. A pyranees mix, maybe? She had a certain admiration for his collar.
"Clever," she grinned. She did not have perky tits but for John's sake, she was not going to be his groomer, oh no. She leaned over the schedule giving it a glance. "Well isn't it your friend's lucky day, we should be about to take you in now."
John did not wag or smile or pant. He stared, unimpressed even through his canine myopia.
---
"Perfect, he needs a bath. Real hard getting his type under the hose you know," Cori remarked with a wink to Ms. Redhead. Hmm if she worked the counter, one wondered who was handling the grooming area. "I've got a special request, I guess I should talk to the clipper about that," he nodded.
---
The Redhead smiled, ringing the nightmare up for a bath and groom. "You oughta'. He's pretty good at taking requests. Amazing too. He can do anything." Then she eyed him: "You know, this must be your first time here, right?"
He, Constantine snorted, straining against the leash.
---
Well call him a downright chauvinist pig for thinking only women worked these kinds of places. Ahem, Cori subdued the surprise in his expression thankful to have those sunglasses in place. "Yeah, it is. There aren't enough people willing to work with this guy," he said to the woman, keeping his grip on the leash. Think fast Corinthian.
---
The redhead cocked a brow. Familiar with dogs, she could see the animal's tension, although she had yet to sense that it had possessed intelligence beyond that of any other canine. "I've seen him deal with difficult dogs. Your friend there will love him."
The leash had yet to lose tension.
---
"Great. We'll wait here until he's ready to take him," said the nightmare with his own familiar grin. Ahem, the taut leash had not gone unnoticed. He took the opportunity to reach down and pet John between the ears. "Come on, give it a chance," said Cori with a note of faint apology in his tone. Nobody had to know the wolf magus understood English perfectly.
---
There was something touching about seeing a man tend to his dog, "Ms. Redhead" reaching under the desk to produce a form. "In the meantime you can fill this out for us for our records for discount's sake. It's best we establish a relationship between us and the customer, you know?"
---
"Of course," said the Corinthian, more than willing to follow protocol even if it had little legal use in this realm. These mundane procedures lent a sense of order and normalcy to the City though. He used their false identities while filling out the forms; Alex Corinth and Bastard.
Teeth eyes took in the rest of the shop in the meantime, on the lookout for this male groomer.
---
Constantine had continued resignation through the whole experience, occupying himself with the odors dripping from every corner of the store. Some were... interesting to say at least. Aside, he never whined or barked or groaned, sitting there, wondering what could this "special request" be.
Eventually, he heard something rhythmically clunk against the tile, a man taking a gander at the duo, considering them thoughtfully. A brief glance and a squint told him he was in his thirties but certainly wasn't ready to accept that fact, carrying on with his ways with a rare grace. His ear had holes in it for one, the varying jewelry taken out should a nervous animal dare to take a nip at one of them. There was youth in his brown eyes, his air energetic. His hair was short, wild.
"You must be the walk-in Irma mentioned." He bent over, fist out towards Constantine's nose to allow him a sniff. "Who's this fella'?"
---
Something guaranteed to bring the old bastard back to his youth, though the style and color of choice was largely Cori's speculation. But hell any streetwise magician with a background in the CBGB had to have an appreciation for such flare. The nightmare currently was investigating this young buck.
"I think so. Bastard," answered the white blonde in a cool tone. The gentlemanly groomer seemed nice enough.
---
"Cool name," the groomer replied, somewhat puzzled but Bastard here might have been shy, scared. No sniffing. He looked over the animal for any muscle tension. "What makes him such a bastard, other than his... eh, difficulties?" He stood up, gesturing for the paperwork should it have been done.
---
Cori handed the completed paperwork over to the groomer. "His attitude I imagine," said the nightmare with a knowing smirk to the wolf magus.
---
John huffed, the groomer looking over the paperwork. Forms for the sake of normalcy in a place of what felt like borderline anarchy. Exploding forests and shadow panthers and dinosaurs... It was a bit rough on business but he had long since grown accustomed to such... interesting quirks of City life. No use in complaining about things one couldn't change so he kept his chin up about it and stayed indoors when it counted.
"Attitude, huh?" he gave Constantine a sly look that begged the fussy animal to test him. "Come with me, Mr. Corinth. I'm going to give this to Irma on the way there and we'll get started."
---
Someone had to make it seem like the City was running on some kind of economy. Cori gave the leash a gentle tug, urging the malamutt to walk with them. "I'm going to be here the whole time," he said to Constantine with another scritch behind the ears.
"He's shedding all over the place, that's really why we're here...." he prompted the groomer for a name.
---
"Hm?" he caught onto the cue, "Oh, Geoff. Name's Geoff, Mr. Corinth." A smile was flashed, those eyes sparking not unlike Constantine's; much as the magus had thrived on his magic, Geoff had loved his work, the bloated excuse for an economy hardly a reason except giving him a means to do what he wanted. Placing the papers on the receptionist's, of sort's, desk, he added, "Irma mentioned a special request..."
Constantine meanwhile had straggled, barely following despite the reassurances Cori provided. Aside, that collar he had on was nothing compared to a straight jacket, yes?
---
Nothing compared to a straight jacket, but was John really planning to make a break for it? Doing so would severely lower the nightmare's sympathy towards his plight. In any case he nodded once to 'Geoff' regarding that special request.
"I think he needs a little style," Cori kept his voice low for the groomer's ears only, though it was likely John heard him too. "A good trim down the side, leave a few inches from head to tail, give him a nice ridge," he grinned.
---
Cori never had wolf ears, hadn't he? Or at least long enough to know that Constantine could plainly hear this and he wasn't interested in any kind of ridge or style. Either way, Constantine wasn't ready to submit himself to this bollocks so easily, even on a bet. There were other ways to chip at his pride, the skilled escape artist able to slide away without even a hint of suggestive tension.
"Spring's coming, isn't it? Your dog looks like the type to blow his coat." Taking a glance at Bastard for another study on how to make this ridge work, he saw Mr. Corinth, but no dog. "And he just slipped out of his collar."
---
"Yeah it is, I did the fucking vacuuming yesterday. He clogs the shit out of the filter."
Christ did the happy housemaid just say that? Cori immediately considered remedying that slip of the tongue with some vile course language but Geoff here drew his attention to the slack in the leash. He felt the Bastard collar knock against his leg, empty.
"Damnit," muttered the nightmare, "don't make a run for it." He searched the immediate area for John. He was a large thing, couldn't miss him unless he was using the magic.
---
Geoff had every reason to be worried; Mr. Corinth had a very large dog and it was a very large Northern dog. Once that animal got out and was running... The groomer, having greater worries than imagining a dusting of dog hair through the household, joined in the search. He was not the one to lose customers this way.
However, searching for a large wolf was one thing. Searching for a large wolfmagus was another. The magus was a momentary glimpse of bushy white beyond the glass door.
---
Cori hissed a few curses to himself, ones John likely couldn't here. Nevertheless, he was determined to reclaim the wolf magus, and as punishment, he now had a little color theory to go with that cut. The nightmare looped the leash around his hand then made way to exit the store without speaking his plan to Geoff.
Your poor sport, he thought in a mutter. Fortunately this little scenario had been anticipated. As soon as he landed on the sidewalk Cori didn't even bother calling out to the white dog as he removed it from his liner pocket. Not just one silkie, no. He had the whole pack on him.
---
Constantine was a dot on the other end of the sidewalk, ready to disappear over the edge, but there he was, ears pricked and head up at attention. Just that tiny crinkle was enough to send him right back over, although he stopped ten feet away from the nightmare, to be cautious.
"You think you have me by the balls, don't you, mate?"
---
Crinkle crinkle. He noted the white dog at the other end but didn't say a word until he had one of those cigarettes lit, making sure the scent wafted in John's direction. "Not as well as I did yesterday. Come on, you need the bath and trim," reasoned the Corinthian. The style (and forthcoming dye job) were just perks. "There's a cigarette in it for you."
---
"I can procure it in other ways," Constantine snorted, offering a head tilt.
---
"But I've got one right here for you," so convenient! He blew the smoke rising from the lit end towards John. Despite their distance he knew the man could smell it. "Are you going to make me beg?"
---
"You're going to get me a normal haircut," John growled, addiction tickling his lungs.
---
Was anyone watching this odd (but not so odd for the City) scene unfold? Cori glanced left then right, before failing to concede to John's request. He knelt down again, bringing the cigarette to wolf magus' level so he wouldn't have to make the effort to get on his hind legs. So convenient. Just right here.
---
Constantine found himself approaching that morsel of vice though, even if he cautioned himself that the nightmare was manipulating him. If he hadn't been such a chain smoker, wrapping Cori around his finger... paw digit might have been an easier feat.
But no, his whiskers brushed the filter instead.
---
He let those whiskers touch the filter, closer now... Towards the door. He made sure that scent never left the magician's black heart nose either. Whatever Geoff and Irma there might be thinking, Cori hoped at least one of them would keep the door open despite the fact that he was trying to lure his 'dog' with a cigarette.
---
Geoff was watching these scene, after the animal had spoken, puzzled without a doubt but he let them go, as long as it kept the animal under control. He caught the cue to prop the door open, allowing the pair inside. Questions later.
There was a small clip of teeth as Constantine tried to steal the fag away from the nightmare's fingers.
---
He felt the snap against his fingertips. Almost. It was like a little game, keep away as any dog owner would call it, but John here was smarter than the average dog in his own way. Cori got to his feet but remained in a crouch, edging back into the store before offering the cigarette to the wolf magus. He tilted his head, another cue to get that door closed.
---
The door tinkled shut, leaving John under supervision and at the mercy of whatever the groomer, Cori or anyone else wanted to dish out. Too bad the tight grip of addiction constricted Constantine's lungs like a famished boa, trying again to have at that filter end, ignoring the nightmare wielding it.
---
He let the malamutt magus have a nip at the filter now that they were in the confines of the grooming shop. Right, how to explain that to Geoff and Irma... At least they weren't like that vet woman, encouraging neutering to deter his wayward will.
"It's all in the know how," Cori said to the pair with confidence and a cool run of his fingers through his own white hair.
---
Irma and Geoff exchanged glances. Unlike the vet, they had seen pet spoiling in various degrees. They would not put a cigarette-addicted dog aside but they were groomers, not veterinarians. Surely Bastard's vet was aware of this and would have curbed his behavior. Not that a smoking dog was a healthy thing or something to condone to begin with. Irma would leave that up to Geoff to ask about.
Know how what? John had the cigarette now, his focus able to snap to something else. It had occurred to him that yes indeed, the Corinthian had manipulated him. Him. He almost bit the filter in two, hackles rising in furious indignance.
Geoff added, "leash him up so we can try to get started again."
---
Add to that the fact that this dog had spoken prior to his munching the cigarette... Good thing they didn't offer their professional opinion on the matter. Cori trusted them to handle the buzzer and scissors, leave the healthcare to the nightmare. He reached down to scratch the indignant Constantine under his chin.
"Thanks," said the white blonde, whether John appreciated it or not. Click, he buckled and hooked both collar and leash onto his furry neck again. "There. You've got to keep an eye on him all the time," Cori nodded to the pair, the irony being he had no eyes behind those shades.
---
It took every tiny fiber of restraint to keep himself from backing away and making another, bolder break for it out of prideful anger. Feeling that collar chaff against every strain of hair Constantine never fancied himself a hothead but sometimes the nightmare tested even him. That aside, he could... always shift out of it, right? He made a note to check himself in a mirror should he pass one just to make sure of how much hair was on top of his head. Anything there would have to show up in his normal, more comfortable skin.
"I've known some regular Houdini's," Geoff resumed his professional smile, showing them to a well back room with glass walls for viewing. Everything needed was there: the tables, tethers and tubs. "We're going to start with a wash. It'd make grooming much easier."
---
That was the idea at least, that John could always shift out of his new haircut, ridge and color included. Cori hadn't noticed any white hairs creeping into his vibrant yellow top yet. As for testing the magician, hell that was the nightmare's special skill; capable of pulling the wolf magus along to the bath for a second time (anyone who knew Constantine knew he could leave if he truly wanted to), capable of willing the other to 'let him win'.
"Nobody wants a repeat performance," he grinned at Geoff, ready to transfer the leash power to him. "Sounds like a plan, if he gives you trouble knock on the glass. There's plenty more where that came from," Cori gestured to the Silk Cuts in his pocket.
---
John had intended to keep his unusually vibrant blonde coloration for as long as he could manage. Any sort of white hair he would develop was best kept to the shaggy pelt he donned for now. He stiffened his legs a bit just to be a pain in the arse.
Geoff, meanwhile, gestured for the leash, not really sure if he wanted to be alone with the great white monster, but he gave him the benefit of a doubt and another chance. "I will, uh." He looked down at the silly cigarette smoking and sticking out of his jowls. "Does he bite?"
---
Cori had little worry regarding hair coloration. His was and would always be as far as he knew (for now...) white like fucking snow. It took the pressure of graying off his shoulders really, at the same time it was sort of an odd lack of pigmentation. The color of fear.
"Only if you hurt him," Cori replied. His grin widened while handing the leash off to Geoff. He would spare John the indignity of offering to muzzle the monster. That was the groomer's decision in any case.
---
Much against John's dignity, the groomer wasn't feeling too comfortable still. It had to have been his size or the cold something in his eyes that indicated something else he could not yet explain. He took the leash, half expecting the animal to run away out of the hands of his master, but he stayed there, looking up at him from under that heavy brow with those intense blue eyes.
"Can I muzzle him, for my sake? I hope he doesn't mind but I gotta' have my fingers intact to work on him, you know."
John glared. Then how can I enjoy this bloody wonderful cigarette without worrying about *burning* the sodding muzzle *and* worry about torching your *fine* establishment down?
---
"Give him a moment to finish his smoke first," Cori nodded to Geoff, ever a fine master. Never mind that glare, at the very least the nicotine fix might soothe the savage beast first. "He won't take long, ol'Bastard's not one for wasting a cancer stick," the nightmare smiled again before giving the large canine's bum a little nudge from his boot.
---
John's throat bubbled in grumbling annoyance at the pressure on his back end, knowing he'd savor every particle of his fucking cig. Geoff in turn nodded and handed the leash back to Cori. "Let me find a muzzle his size then, alright? I'll be right back."
---
He took the leash back into his hand and nodded once. "All right," said the Corinthian, no doubt giving them another moment to exchange words, if John had any for the nightmare. "I won't smoke any while you're in there," he said to the wolf magus.
---
No, because you have your *own* cigs and you won't like it if I find out, Constantine grunted harshly, taking his sweet time.
---
What a cranky old bastard. Cori couldn't help but smirk as he crouched down to John's level again. He reached under the man--er... dog to rub his belly, not enough to get that leg kicking perhaps but it was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. "They're all yours, babe," a pet name for a seemingly average pet.
---
Oh, Cori wasn't going to warm him over to whatever he wanted to inflict on his furry hide so easily. John shuffled a bit, giving the nightmare a cold look that was only enhanced by those icy eyes of his.
---
In that case, he used his nails to actively scratch along that furry hide, the belly in particular to get a little foot wheeling. Maybe he could even get the old man to conclude he was 'letting him' warm that grouchy wolf magus right up.
---
"Corrrrri," John hissed under his breath, cigarette still secure in his teeth, only half to go (shit). To any casual passers by, the noise would have been another funny canine murble not unlike whatever else made by a husky. His leg twitched alright, pelt with it like an irritated horse.
---
Muuuuuch better. He made sure to keep the leash hand on the ready should John accidentally lose grasp of his cigarette. The nightmare kept his scratching paced and even, knowing the magician couldn't stand to pass up such a treatment. "Good boy," he whispered into that furry ear.
---
Only a few months ago and Constantine would have better accepted this resignation to a more doggy state but no, Constantine was very sure he was John fucking Constantine and not a completely tamped house pet just yet. He had to concentrate a bit however to keep his jaws on the damaged cigarette filter and not let it fall to the floor.
"You'd think."
---
He wasn't going to look like any old house pet once Geoff here was through with the nightmare's plans hehehe... He had one more thing to add though. Teeth eyes glanced upward again for either the man or woman, but preferably he'd share it with Irma once John was behind the glass walls.
"Play nice," he reminded the blonde, scratching along his ribs.
---
Constantine melted towards Cori as much as he didn't want to. He could sense that Irma was not nearby. His voice shouldn't be audible, or recognizable, giving it a bit more husky grumble: "You told him I bite when I'm hurt."
---
"You would wouldn't you. I wouldn't take a Chelsea boy," and this was only speculation on the Corinthian's part, "cutting my tail without a little payback." He spoke for the wolf magus' ears only.
---
"Found one." It was Geoff with an appropriate muzzle for his waiting, er, smoking customer, approaching the pair ready to go. He sank to knee level, noticing the dog was still not finished but almost. That almost Constantine was savoring as if that Silk Cut was the very last one in all of existence. He eyed Cori; Chelsea boy, eh? Never was the one for football, or feet pressing on his bum, anyway.
---
As in a ponce, a prat, a fag, but not like the one in John's jaws. He pulled his hand away so Geoff could apply the muzzle to the large malamutt, ready to take the filter as soon as Constantine was through with it. "Good boy," Cori reiterated with a grin.
---
You're flattering me, Constantine growled, ears flat. The ash and cinder were very slowly creeping towards that filter. Almost there, almost there, fuck...
---
Very much so, but it wasn't flattery undeserved. He appreciated John not pulling another Houdini on them, and furthermore he appreciated John not acting the sore loser, whether he comforted himself by thinking he let Cori win or not. Ahh seeing those embers burn down to the filter... he held his fingers to the cigarette, ready to toss the butt.
---
The filter left and slowly that muzzle was placed around Constantine's face, effectively keeping him from biting or smoking. The smell of old saliva from other dogs was overwhelming, John almost able to taste it. He assured himself that if worst came to worst John could slip out but upon feeling the groomer take the leash and take him away, the magus gave the nightmare a feeble, dirty look before he disappeared behind the closing door.