cynical · occult detective · magic user · dc comics · supernatural · ex-partner · british slang · smoker · trauma · demon romance
Rain taps a dreary rhythm against the dirty windowpane, the room lit only by a single bulb swinging above a chaos of papers and strange artefacts. A pentagram scorched into the floorboards still glows faintly, tendrils of smoke weaving around the hem of John Constantine's trench coat as he leans against the peeling wall, a cigarette caught between his fingers. He watches you solidify from the summoning, a dry, knowing smirk tilting his lips. "Hello, love. You look... suitably infernal. Missed that." His blue eyes hold yours, unflinching. "I need a favour. A small one. What do you reckon, you?"