bakerstreet | Get your gen texts~

[Paul is going to try and pass as an ordinary-ish teenager as best he can in unknown territory. Granted, there will still be the sense of something strange - the formality, the intelligence, the calculation behind the eyes. Once at the tavern, he immediately searches for his man, mind on business.]

John Constantine? You called for me, and I'm here.

Right, you are! ( Constantine straightens in his seat. Before him is a placement, John would believe to be equivalent to beer nuts. The pieces are crunchy, salty, and the consistency a bit lighter than nuts. John doesn’t have any interest in finding out what species he’s been chomping away at. His mug is freshly filled with a creamy coagulation of sweet creamy mush and grainy liquid. It tastes alright, almost like a glass of milk with a snow cone dumped into it.

The table is roomy for one, but crowded for two, and he gestures to the seat John had saved for Paul. )

Come alone? ( John cranes his neck to see if there are any other newly arrived, but the taverns dark and smokey. ) It's ’right, needn’t worry, I can protect yeh.

I'll have a few of these, if that's all right.

[Paul hasn't eaten or drunk anything, but may as well try the nuts to fit in and to be polite. He's trying not to draw too much attention to himself - even if no one here knows who he is, it's safer that way. The offer of protection is appreciated. He takes the seat, and a handful of nuts. Like John, he's doesn't know exactly what they are and won't ask.]

What exactly is your line of work, Mr. Constantine?

[Genuine curiosity, and as good a way to open a conversation as any.]

( Well, what to show a young man on their first date? John snorts, then looks across the room until he finds the familiar man, staring at him, grinning. ) I’m a long way from ‘ome. ( He pauses for a breath, a sip of his grainy milkshake, and nods to the loner at the bar, unseen by everyone and only seen by John. )

A bloke found me out there in that desert tomb. Dragged me here, feeding my ear all full a’ stories. Bou’ a king, a kingdom, a prince, and a queen of shadows. ( John’s eyes slide from the ghost of Duncan and eyes straight ahead at the dark-haired youth. ) You’re king now, s’what he says.

My line a'work ... deals in all sorts. He won't to leave me alone, til I make your acquaintance. ( John hums. ) E'en then, he will be right back at me until things are "right."

You aren't the only one.

[Paul is savvy. He knows to take allies where he can find them, and Constantine seems to be sincere in his wish to help. And conjuring ghosts...well, any skill has its uses. He can't see ghosts himself, but if Constantine can help fix that, they might have a mutually beneficial partnership in the future.

The last couple sentences aren't lost on Paul, and curiosity becomes active engagement, the nuts in his hand hastily swallowed and forgotten. There's a hint of excitement underneath the hushed voice. This could be one of many people - someone who wants to check on him from the other side. A lot of people have died to keep him safe.]

So...there's someone who wants to talk to me. Specifically. Someone who knew me.

( Even if they were in the dark, John assumes the reflection in Paul’s eyes is that of hope. He’s seen it too many times. There’s too many unresolved heartbreaks, too many lives gone off without leading on about how they felt, resentment, anger, love, loneliness, it goes on and on. Duncan, he stuck around out of pure stubbornness, out of love - John’s sure of it. He can just see it in the specter’s gaze on the boy. )

Bloody hell. ( John glances around the room, past Duncan, and wonders if his own little lost ships at harbor will be docking up just as well for him. He’d like to think he left them behind, in London, in the USA, on planet Earth! ) Think he wants to see you rise, conquer, and whatnot. ( John’s lips twist in thought. If he started that trick, here and now, would he have the whole tavern lined up demanding an audience with the dead, or set him on fire for his “evil sorcerer” ways. He looks over the kid and considers his words carefully: ) Look, mate, I’m not a bloody telephone!

You're not a telephone...but I'd like whoever is on the other side to know I'm here, and I'm listening. Thank you.

[That didn't narrow much down, but who it is is less important than what they want, at least for the time being. A nod, hoping the spirit, somehow, sees it. It's strange, passing on a message to someone you can't see or hear.]

So. To business, then. You, me, and... [A look in what he hopes is the ghost's general direction.]What do we do?

( He finds the kid’s response to be … actually quite agreeable, and John feels only a slight bit foolish for the dramatics. Between the two of them, the “king” formerly known as “prince” was definitely more composed. John nods, and drowns himself in a heavy gulp of desert delight. He exhales, the cup makes a soft clunk on the table. His hand flattens on the surface of the table, then he gently spiders his fingertips on it. )

I need more information, need to know your story, and all the key figures. That one says he’s “the pilot” or… flyer… sometimes the messages aren’t as clear when it's other people’s ghosts. Anyway, Duncan.

Duncan. Hello. It's good to...not see, exactly, but to know you're here. [Now that the ghost's identified, Paul's expression visibly warms. Of course it's Duncan, watching over him from the other side.]

More information. That, I can do. It's a long story and I'll have to explain some of the context, but I'll make it as easy for an outsider to understand as I can.

( John’s head tilts in Duncan’s direction, and his expression is smug. He then focuses back on the kid. There are some things that he picked up from Duncan, but who knows how much is lost in translation - although, it seems to be right as rain, considering the shared information thus far has been matching up properly. The other thing to consider is how much of John’s own luggage is getting in the way here.

Also, ghosts could be liars too. This may not even be Duncan. John’s eyes shift between the two- ) ahh, wait - wait now, hol’ on. Just to make sure the one talking at me is Duncan, what is something only he would know about you? I don’t know how cryptic he’s try’n to be, or if I’m just perceiving the messages incorrectly, but… so far everything I said making sense? ( It could be as something as simple as a shared memory over lunch some day, or the last thing he said to the prince, or the color of Paul’s favorite animal… who knew, who knows, John didn’t want an unfriendly ghost to be spying over them. )

[Fair enough. Paul's never talked to ghosts before, but Constantine has, so he's inclined to take the man's judgement on the matter. Better to check they're talking to who they think is there. Constantine's the expert in this situation, and Paul's the student. Best to defer to his new mentor.

A handful more nuts as he chews over John's question. Several possibilities here.]

Ask him what his last words to me were. I can confirm it.

( Duncan looks incredibly unimpressed, which amuses John. There’s nothing that really indicated that the ghost wasn’t who he said he was, but there was nothing wrong with making bloody sure he wasn’t set up to look any more foolish than he likely already did! Duncan repeats the words, as does John to Paul (the dearly departed needn’t John repeat the request). After John reports to Paul, he takes a swig of his drink - which begs him to ask: ) Thirsty lad?

Course yeh are, we’re in the bloody desert. ( John waves down the bartender and points to his companion. ) Bring us a drink, luv.

[Paul seems relieved that the ghost's identity is confirmed, and moves along once John offers a drink. It's not a bad idea, and it's a way to loosen the tension a little before moving business along.]

Don't mind if I say yes. Where I come from, I don't know much about the rules in your world, we don't exactly have a drinking age. So either works for me.

Something more substantial for us than the nuts wouldn't be a bad idea, either.

[Food and drink. Probably more things for people on the other side to envy.]

( Paul’s words draw John’s interest back to him. He looks over the kid and considers his age being close, or younger, to what he previously thought. What’s that got to do with the weight of a kingdom (or was it world… or was it plural, such as this world and whatever world Paul’s from - Calada---??) on the boy’s shoulders. John wasn’t one to judge what a boy got up to, least of all put in their own body - especially lads of royalty, of legend, of … What was it that Duncan said now? Albatross… no, but it had something to do with flying… Red Hawk, that’s it, that’s the bird. John’s eyes shift between the astral visage of one passed and Paul who was to be, as described, the new leader, a legend. So, did John bloody hell care what he got up to, no, he needn’t! Paul will find no protest from John, and when the tender comes and goes, it’s with orders of food and drink for the both of them. )

I think we ought to keep ourselves quiet, we’ve cleared the dead but we ‘aven’t much investigated the living. ( To Paul’s credit, the young man had come in carefully and wasn’t flashing his face about to anyone, and John? He looked just plain out of place with his trench coat, shirt, and tie. John takes out his pack of smokes, lights himself a stick, and inhales the tobacco like it’s the first breathable air he’s had all day. He looks over to the youth and offers the young man a smoke. )

Fancy one?

Don't mind if I accept.

[When in Rome, do what the Romans do. Paul nods, taking the offer. He's growing to trust Constantine - and his trust does not come easily or lightly. He's naturally wary in an environment like this, though he's better able to defend himself than he looks, and anyone who takes him for an easy mark because of his youth and features will get a nasty surprise. He hasn't grown into what he will become yet, there's still some time before that, but a young snake can bite.

Still, it always pays to be careful, especially surrounded by strangers. The following words are hushed.]

When you look the way I do, as young as I am, it has its advantages. People don't take me as seriously as they should.

( John’s impressed that Paul takes the smoke, and he leans in for the youth’s words as well as flicks his lighter, and offers Paul the flame. He couldn’t agree more: ) Ah, I know something about that. Ne’er judge a book by its cover… loads a’folk get into nasty bits of magic and silliness based off looks alone.

( John smirks. ) Needn’t worry, if I do wrong by yeh, Duncan promises to keep me from sleep till I crack.

[Paul accepts the flame, breathing it in, following John's lead and leaning a little closer. He doesn't seem bothered by the smoke.] It plays into my interests that people underestimate me. But you know better, and you had my respect from the first words for that. And I'm interested in learning new skills. Your proposal - and the arts you know - had my interest immediately.

I knew Duncan Idaho in life, and I believe both of you that he would. [A faint but sincere smile.] But that won't be necessary, I'm sure.

( John chuckles. He’s heightened by a flare of excitement from connecting with someone on this strange world that isn’t dead. He teases, both pair of ears will hear: ) He needn’t ruffle his feathers o’er me one bit, b’sides, I already cracked long ago. ( He promises, after a drag of his smoke. ) Still useful, still am. ( He also notes that it feels good to have a role in this world, something to concentrate on that isn’t the obvious worry about his predicament. There’s not a lot he can do about that, but what he can do here - well, he’s pretty interested in that as well as Paul!

There seems to be a steady atmosphere in the tavern of chatter, cutlery, and the shuffle of feet. He feels safe in the familiarity of a pub. ) Where yeh stay’n t’night?

[What could be laughter, quiet but barking, before Paul sobers again. He's already tasted stronger and stranger drugs than nicotine, so he brushes the effects off rapidly, barely affected by the smoke in his lungs.] Glad to hear he's still looking out for me. He brought you here to help. That's a favor enough.

[A sincerely meant warning:] If you're staying with me for a while, I suggest we find an alternative for a few days. The Fremen are wary of strangers, and I don't want any misunderstandings.

If you travel between here and wherever you're from...I could come with you temporarily, if the rules permit that.

( He can’t help feeling a bit nice after that appreciation. It’s so often that John faces a bit of flack for his presence, ridicule for his suggestions, or anger for his helpful demeanor - but Paul’s been nothing but pleasant to him since they’ve started, so yeah, John delights in the appreciation for a good moment. ) No misunderstandings. ( John agrees. Though, he thinks about the way he’d come about here. It seemed like he was just having another dream, he could even be convinced he went way out on his last astral projection - like, way out… but, in reality, he didn’t have the first clue how he got here, nor how to get back and take Paul with him! Perhaps Paul’s accustomed to portals, black holes, or parallel universes, the youth seems to have accepted John’s misplacement here. Of course, Duncan had filled John in about there being other inhabitable worlds besides this one - which, John had to nitpick, what it meant to be habitable. To no one’s surprise, least of all John’s, the departed had no tolerance for John’s quipping nature. )

I’m afraid you might be needing to help me first, before I do you any good. ( John can charm, can get into people’s minds, but he just needs to know where and who to do it to. ) I can ask the tender for a room, might have ‘em here, yeh think?

Help you first?

[It sounds as if the rules of interdimensional travel - such as they are - are complicated. Another thing to note down and figure out how it works later. Learning rules is important for wielding that kind of power. It's not hard to peg John as an outsider even by this universe's standards. Other timelines, places where history plays out differently, or where the universe plays by different rules. Anybody would be interested by the implications of that.]

Your plan could work, for the time being. Meals and drinks would be covered with room and board.

Ta. ( Just like that, Paul was helpful in John’s need for direction. ) I’m needing to navigate this world, culture, community, whatever, and you’re the one with information enough to help me. ( He didn’t think it was going to be a problem for Paul, smart as he was - after all, John got the assurance that the boy was environmentally clever, keeping up to date with all the information of the climate, terrain, and people gathered here. That sort of information is priceless, John’s sort of magic had a price, relatively low and not always worth the bother.

He idly wonders if Paul would have any interest in that one time John saved the whole bloody human race back in ‘88. Nah, prolly not. He chuckles and takes another drag. )

It’ll give us more privacy to talk, as well, yeah? ( This was another reach for information: did Paul know the tavern’s rooms to be safe, or were there ears to the walls? )

Edited 2021-11-18 04:47 (UTC)

So it's a matter of information. I'd like to learn a little more about where you come from, and I'll tell you what you need to know about this place. That might, if I have the rules right, strengthen whatever binding there is between your world and mine.

[Knowledge is power, and he genuinely is curious about what kind of world Constantine came from. His own guess is some time in humankind's earlier history, but that's only from contextual clues - clothes, technology. An information exchange could be a good idea to help both of them.]

The rooms should be...safe enough. I'll try and see to it that we get the best positioned ones for what we need to do. But I still suggest speaking quietly and taking care, for caution's sake.

( John softly nods, his eyes sweep the room, and he leans back for a small exhale. It’s not long till the tender comes around with their requested plates and a refill. John will take the boy’s lead, either Paul does the talking or he will - and he’s glad to know there’s something workable available to them.

Sharing stories of his world is relatively harmless, Paul sharing his own stories would be what likely draws unfriendly attention. John will first introduce the boy to music. He talks about the bands from the 70s, the 80s, and he even talks about his own beloved Mucous Membrane, they had a strong few years (as in they were able to book gigs), but that was it. They never hit it off, got big, or went anywhere, they put all their charm and luck into their single “Venus of the Hardsell” had a video out on the tube and everything, but no… it didn’t do well. John skips the details of why the band broke up, in fact, he doesn’t really delve that much into his band but instead talks about some other artists that he was fond of.

Of course, he couldn’t help but mention the Swamp Thing - there was a pile of green mush on his plate that he just assumes originated from plant life. He kept it sweet and simple: ) Got a big ol’ green guy, calls himself Swamp Thing, back home, we’re mostly on, but we got a few odds between us. Ever seen a walking, talking vegetable? Sort’a like that. A humanoid figure covered in moss, flowering buds, and the like.

Not everyone knows about him, though, not everyone knows about the magic. So happens that power on Earth comes down to money, to wealth. I imagine it’s not much different on any world.

[A tilt of the head. Swamp Thing. Sounds...distinctly alien, but John is telling the truth. If Duncan sent this man to help Paul, he trusts him to know what he's doing. He listens attentively, processing and digesting the information John gives him about his world and culture. The food is picked at, but slowly, surely disappears, washed down with the offered alcohol.]

If I ever see where you come from, I want to hear some of your music. The music here is good, but probably not what you're used to and might sound better to my ear than yours.

[A gentle warning about cultural differences. Human culture has changed a lot since John's time.]

I had money, once. That's changed. My family is a powerful one, and we made powerful enemies.

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