oldhound | ( open post. ) RETIRED

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!

[ 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?

[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.

[ 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. ]

[ 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.

ota

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