Day One Who: John Constantine, Chas Kramer, Rain Ocampo and open to all. Where: Kitchen When: 12:30am Rating: TBD OOC: Posting order, if you please.
"How many eggs do you want?" He glanced up over his shoulder at Chas. John had decided on eggs, since he missed breakfast, and since they were quick and relatively easy. He'd decided this sometime between the bathroom, stairs and the kitchen, and so now had slipped open the door to the refrigerator. And sure enough, there, eggs. Judging liberally, he took out one of the cartons of one dozen eggs, without waiting for Chas' response. These he settled on the counter before he went about pulling open cabinets and searching their contents for a frying pan. Belatedly he thought of bacon.
There was an odd energy to John. He even looked a little healthier, despite the square of gauze that covered his cheek and his usually pallid complexion. There was no coughing. More importantly, there was no brooding to be done right now. He had a task to do. Something. Make eggs. He had motivation; he was hungry. The man had stripped off his jacket and tie, folded them sloppily on the island in the middle of the kitchen. But the moment he'd rolled his sleeves up past those odd tattooed symbols on his arms, he gotten to work. But then, maybe he was just really hungry.
At last finding a frying pan, he clanged it unceremoniously up ontop of the counter beside the stove, closed the cupboard, and set to poking around drawers for a spatula. This creepy house, that redheaded monster girl, and the rest of the God damned world could wait until after lunch. Right now? John was cooking. And then he was eating. And then the world could have it's turn.