( open post. ) RETIRED

[oldhound]

RETIRED OPEN POST.

Comments

ota

[oldhound]

1. If you don't hear from me by 9 then I've gone and gotten lucky. If it goes past 12 and still no word, send help. His boyfriend probably found us out.

2. You think it'd mean something that I said I'd make them both a good breakfast.

3. Were you seriously humming the Mission Impossible theme song while taking a piss?

4. Text him!

2

[deniedthesight]

it didn't?

[oldhound]

Not even a little. Lots of yelling. I made myself scarce pretty quickly after. I'm not one to stick around for domestics.

i

[killadelphia]

dude, you have got to start banging people that aren't already taken

[oldhound]

Living dangerously should only apply to the day job then? Sounds like a lousy deal to me. Where's the fun in it?

1

[bitchofawitch]

if this is what you said you'd teach me, I'll pass

[oldhound]

So you'd rather stay bound as you are and stew in the consequences of your own bad decisions? If that's what gets you going I'm not really one to judge. Let me know when you're done with the stupid in spades trophy though, love.

I'd like it back. It's usually on my mantle.

[bitchofawitch]

do you ALWAYS act like this when you don't get your way?

fine. fine. f i i i i n e. i will look for you after midnight.

4.

[fightlikehell]

hey. i know it's been a bit. i've been meaning to text you back. work has been crazy.

[Work in the night chiefly. And maybe there was quite a long deliberation on the cost benefit of this contact. So close and yet so far. It isn't like the differences between them will melt away with enough talking.]

[oldhound]

No worries, you know I never take offense at life getting in the way of things. Is that necklace I left still working for you?

[ He doesn't need to have Chas make a side trip to New York City does he? He is surprised at the text, though. Things get dicey when the two of them cross paths. It isn't just the work.

It's the whole bloody belief system. ]

[fightlikehell]

No rest for the wicked.

[He can't even type it without the irony.]

so far i haven't been incinerated when I step into chapel. I don't even know what it's meant to do...

for conjurechaos. ( we have not been given all the words necessary.)

[oldhound]

[ John was no stranger at all to dimension-hopping magic. He used it fairly regularly when he had a mind to and didn't mind slogging through the muck of a magical hangover after the fact. Course, this hadn't been planned at all.

Big bad coming about all peacock-like and him with naught but his own damned arrogance. Ended up needing to get the big guy off his back and wound up in whatever the hell this forsaken place was. He'd done everything he could to get back to his world with nothing to show for it.

His magic, though, it seemed stronger here. Easier to tap into. Not something he's used to feeling. His power is pretty strong, he's been dabbling since he was a young lad, but this is something else entirely. It's like he's an amatuer all over again. Like a new world at his fingertips. Ozone in the air and a static charge at his fingertips.

It's bloody brilliant.

Course it gets attention. Which is why he's sitting across from a lovely woman who looks none too happy with the likes of him. He's not sure what he did to set her off but if she's anything like other women in his life it was likely just his existing. Or the clothes.

It's a toss-up, really. ]

If you're just going to try and bore holes in me from across the way there the least you can do is give us a drink first, yeah?

[conjurechaos]

[The room at the inn is adequate. She had to move the bed to make room for her summoning circle. Oh well. The position of the stars are acceptable conditions. For the most part she is following the ritual she has researched to the letter. Candles are laid out, not yet lit. The chalk markings on the floor are right as they should be. A drink of water from the old temple well and--

What? The energy changes and she holds both palms open. The curtains stir. Is that a portal? No. No it isn't. The air opens and deposits a man.]

Who are you? What is this?

[Both of her hands are still raised, her violet eyes are sharp. At least she's dressed still. Though her night gown is not appropriate for visual consumption. Rather run of the mill by modern tastes. A cotton shift that covers her knees and a velvet robe hanging open and partially off of her shoulders.]

[oldhound]

[ He's honestly getting tired of being pulled around here. Jerked around like a dog on a bloody chain. He doesn't even know how it's gotten around his neck. Going back to his world doesn't seem to be in the cards for him just yet. Best just make do with what he's got.

John glances around quickly (maybe a little longer than he should on the outfit and all or what little there is) and recognizes the beginning of a summoning circle. It's not finished though. He can tell a few of the markings but others ---well, they feel old. Powerful. ]

I'm John. I'm guessing I'm not exactly who you were expecting when you jumped into all this. I'll make it easy and show myself out if you'll just point me to the door.

[conjurechaos]

[Both of her delicate hands make a swirling motion and knock John back, back against the wall. It's akin to two arms pinning him there at the shoulders, just strong enough to press, not crush. Yennefer steps closer, her brow furrowed and hands still up.]

John.

[Her tone is dripping with doubt.]

Stay a moment. You are here after all. No messages? No apology even?

[The door is at least seven feet behind Yennefer. She hasn't crossed her circle. A glance down to see if this altercation had disrupted her markings.]

People just don't show up without a portal.

[conjurechaos]

[The three arrived at Aretuza. The journey took longer than it would have. Portals would not support them and Roach. In better spirits after the night, Geralt happily would tell John of his dislike for that mode of transportation. Unreliable for one, dangerous for another. Oh and more reasons piled atop for good measure. Yennefer let them have their talk. Managing her anger made her prone to more bouts of silence. This will all be cleared up in due time. Especially being at the source of chaos on the Continent.

Sea breeze and waves clashed as they entered the main gate. Some would call it a homecoming. Not Yennefer. Her formative years as a mage here were not sweet. Though like anything else that bothered her, she carried on.]

The Rectoress has a barbed tongue. If you feel it's sting that means you're alive.

[Though with John as he is, who is to say he feels insults at all. Her words are for Geralt as well. Many a crude comment thrown his way, yes. That does not mean he is immune. Her white-haired witcher has his moods just as she. Dismounting, she feels eyes on them.]

And speak of the devil. There she is.

[oldhound]

[ John finds it amusing at the very least. He's had rougher ways to get around. Dimension hopping is always a little more on the jarring side than he generally likes. Too useful a trick to dismiss completely. He can't even count the worlds he's visited.

He wasn't sure what happened during his small excursion to find Roach but Yennefer has been distant and angry ever since. The latter is a guess but it seems a safe one.

The closer they got the more the salt in the air came to him. Could almost remind him of Liverpool if one forgot that he walked into a Ren Faire world. He feels the power of this place, old and amplified and incredible. It also feels---familiar somehow. More questions. More bloody questions. ]

Wouldn't be the first woman I've traded barbs with. I promise I've already survived worse.

[ He does, depending on what they are. No one here knows his history so it's easy to avoid things that actually might cut. They dismount and he strolls along next to them. (Roach was a nice lady and all but he's not really for the horseback riding.)

Geralt is used to words bandied as barbs. He's used to all the taunts and terrible things that are said of him. What holds the possibility of testing his patience currently is the fact that Stregobor may well be in this place. The temptation to run him through on sight will be hard to dismiss. ]

Devil, eh? Yeah, I can see it. That deviousness is all in the eyes.

[ He would know he is devious to his core. ]

[conjurechaos]

[Both men have let her stew. That's just as well. Better that than to have her explode. At least the air and scenery have been pleasant. And it only rained on them once. The Continent is vast, they made good time.

Stewards come to take the horses. Naturally Geralt and Roach have a goodbye. Though she is equally friendly to John. Curious.

She should rest. Or at least meditate. Something. Her anxiousness is building like electricity in her skin. Another appeal of Aretuza. This is magnetic north. Amplified and sacred magic though always reminding her that she made choices before being able to understand. They made sure of that.]

"I did not expect you to darken the doorway for another hundred years. And you bring rabble."

Spare me, Tissaia. I come for business. You know of the witcher. This is John. Anything else you ask me. They're under my protection.

[Tissaia's sharp eyes look over all of them. Searching for eye contact and trying to find intent. Yen knew she would. Even though she asked to be the sole source of information.] "The Butcher of Blaviken. And a strange sorcerer. And you." [It's like she's found a chip in a rare teacup. Disappointing.] "Now is not the time for your antics. There is a summit."

[Yennefer sighs and rolls her eyes skyward, gesturing for the men to follow her.]

I don't care about that.

[oldhound]

[ Seemed the safer option, honestly. Geralt only leaves to go hunt for them as they go. Otherwise, it is a fairly straight shot to Aretuza.

John is a little surprised that the mare deigns it necessary to say goodbye to him but he can't say no. He pats her neck and rocks back a little with her nudge. ]

Careful now, your man might get jealous, eh?

[ Not likely. Especially by the almost amused snort Geralt gives. Roach would never. But he finds it interesting how attached she's become to this strange sorcerer. ]

Magic and politics. Sounds like a bad mix. Like the lady says, I'm with her.

[ Sour mood or no, he isn't about to get into a pissing contest here if he can help it. Knowing him, a little trouble is liable to happen. John follows behind her and Geralt falls into step next to her. ]

( closed to faithfulcabbie. )

[oldhound]

[ Bastard thing had put up a hell of a fight. Left John in a state before it went down. As if the magic he'd used hadn't been taxing enough, it had to bloody throw him round like a toy.

It'd done the smart thing and separated he and Chas just before it got real dodgy. Like a locked door was going to stop John from putting it down. It seemed to hope that the exorcist would lose some of his arrogance when left to face it down on his own. No chance.

Sour taste in his mouth like ash and sulfur, he groaned as the room swam into view. His chest ached from the last hit he took that flung him into the rubbish he currently lies sprawled atop. There's a banging in his head, no---it's the door. Must be some residual effects from that demon. Should all wear off soon.

His scalp stings and he feels wet along his cheek. Blood? Probably likely. He reaches a hand out, focusing through the wave of nausea that surges up, and mutters an incantation to unlock the door properly. That's it. That's all he's got.

His hand drops and his head lolls, chin dropping down to his chest. ]

[faithfulcabbie]

[Chas is pretty sure his shoulder is dislocated from the way he's been slamming it against the door for the past god knows how long. Hearing, imagining what that thing is doing to John on the other side of the door and knowing he has to get to him. Knowing that even if he's only flesh and blood and John is so much more, he has to help.

The door finally unlocks and he stumbles through, nearly tripping over John laying against the wall. Slumped against the wall more like, but he's there and that's the important part.

Chas cups his hands over John's jaw, lifting his head to try to meet his eye.]

Just a nice night out, the two of us. Like old times. That's what you said, wasn't it? You, me, old fashioned pub crawl. S'what you said isn't it, you bastard? [Much as he tries to sound annoyed, he can't quite keep the tears from choking his voice]

[oldhound]

[ Consciousness is fickle, it comes in spurts. It's not good when it does. His stomach twists angrily and he pants a breath in. Vision swimming and then gone again. He's out.

It comes around again with a hand cupped at his jaw, coaxing his head up. Eyelids flutter and it's more instinct than seeing him that tells him who it is. His mouth works but no sound comes aside from a groan, wretched sounding.

The words slowly filter through and start to make sense. He did say all that. He meant it, too. Course it didn't go down like that did it? Never bloody does. Why does Chas even put up with it? Ruins everything he touches. ] Promises. M'pretty shit at keeping them.

auing the hell out of things cause i said so fight me.

[oldhound]

[ John couldn't be bothered to play dress up the first time around the punk rock scene. This one, though, he figured you only get to live once, and he may as well own his roots for what they are. He grew up in this dingy, dirty little scene. Thought he would make a life out of it, so he decides to own it once more.

For old times sakes.

He's showing up late to the party, more or less, and Lita has made her way off to the main dance floor while John was talking to Astra. She's taken advantage of the costuming that Gideon is great for and he can't help but think she reminds him of her mum. Natalie would likely be hiding in embarrassment but deeply amused all at once. He's not sure Astra ever knew about that part of her mother's life and John isn't about to go putting that in her head.

He pockets the soul coin after Astra gives it over and after a drink, wades through the dance floor once more with two more beers. He and the big man don't get on so well but he looks too bloody lonely over there all to himself. Studded leather jacket, tight dark maroon pants and an oversized white tee make up his outfit. The rest is too much product to spike his hair and some eyeliner he lifted off Zari for the occasion. ]

Drink up, mate. Maybe it'll do something about that permanent scowl you've got going on.

[torridness]

[ Mick gives him a suspicious look as he takes the beer. It's hard not to wonder about anyone's motives before he knows them well enough and even sometimes after. It takes Mick a long time to really feel close to trusting anyone and he'd be lying if he said that he fully trusts John Constantine. ]

Don't hold your breath, Pretty Boy.

[ He brings the bottle to his lips, takes a long drink and then goes right back to scowling on principal, but if Constantine wants to sit next to him, that's up to him.

It's not even that Mick is unhappy right now. This is just his face. ]

[oldhound]

[ Maybe that's what makes the both of them so at odds with each other. John barely trusts anyone as it is and yet here they are. This little crew of theirs has managed to worm its way into his heart and if that isn't the damnedest thing---well, he doesn't know what is. But he heard what he heard just now and he's wondering when he graduated from derogatory remarks as to his person (that weren't always wrong) to pet names. ]

Wouldn't dream of it, big man.

[ He takes a few swigs of his own and leans back against the wall, squinting a bit at the lights flaring up around them and flashing in and out. After a moment, he gives Mick a once over, raising his voice to be heard. ]

You fit right in here, y'know. I reckon I would've seen you around here back in the day if you'd ever been in my neck of the woods. Anarchist and the like, don't need anybody telling us what to do.

[ He forgot how much he missed it. It's a whole world. It's got a life all its own. ]