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Tweak says, "Tacgnol is gnoooooooooooooool."

Susan Sto Helit (justsomething) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2011-09-14 18:27:00

Entry tags:

john constantine, susan sto helit

Who: Susan Sto Helit and John Constantine
What: Getting to know the city.
Where: The streets close to the Library.
When: Wednesday afternoon.
Rating: TBD.
Status: In progress.

It made sense, Susan thought, to go back the way she'd come. After all, she'd been brought here through the library, so logically there should be a way back the same way. Then again, Susan (regretfully) had enough experience in being someone's plaything to know that logic very rarely got a look in, so she wasn't expecting much.

Although getting into the library hadn't been too much of an issue, and even wandering around hadn't been too hard once she'd decided she didn't want the Knights to notice her, there hadn't been anything of much use in there. Books. There were a lot of books. But even Susan thought there was a time when books weren't all that helpful, and this was one of them. In fact, the whole place reminded her a little of another hall, with more shelves lined with people's names. Only those shelves had been filled with hourglasses, rather than leather-bound volumes...

Library exploration finished, Susan stepped out through the door (literally), brushed a bit of wood-dust off her black skirts and wandered back down onto the pavement. Looking around, Susan decided that the best thing would be to head towards the centre of town - civilisation as a rule tended to hold more clues than the middle of nowhere - and started determinedly off towards where the lights were brightest.

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dangeroushabits
2011-09-14 07:38 pm UTC (link)

John Constantine had an odd habit of being exactly where he needed to be at any given time. It wasn't really odd, considering it was a real gift with a name and everything, but it still surprised him now and then. Paired with a knack for finding weirdness, and the devil's own luck, it was no surprise he wound up on the same street as Death's bloody granddaughter. Not, of course, that he knew that. Still, he definitely got a wiff of weirdness from her. That, along with her rather unique hairstyle, tipped him off to the fact that she was definitely not a local. And she might just be someone worth knowing.

"'lo, lass," he said with an easy smile, more of a smirk really, tilting his head slightly in greeting. He lit a cigarette, taking a drag before continuing. "You're new here aren't you? Think I'd remember a mop like yours. Still looking for a way out or have you cottoned on to the fact that there isn't any leaving? It takes some folks a while to get there."

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justsomething
2011-09-14 08:08 pm UTC (link)

Susan hesitated, then came to a decision and carried it through with her usual amount of certainty, coming to a sudden and decisive stop and turning to look at the source of the voice. Unsurprisingly, there was a man talking to her. At least... Susan narrowed her eyes, taking a moment. He looked like your usual, run-of-the-mill man - if one in need of a shave and a hot meal - but there was something a little... off about him. Susan was good at picking up things that were off, and knowing what people were at their core - it came with the territory. And even though she couldn't quite put her finger on what this man was, exactly, but it was nice to have some forewarning.

"I believe so," she admitted, wrinkling her nose a little as he lit a cigarette, but not commenting. "Unless I've been here before and forgotten about it, but that's not something I make a habit of..." Susan crossed her arms over her chest, keeping her back sensibly straight and her gaze unwaveringly stern. "I expect the best thing to do is just to wait it out."

After all, she stopped herself from adding, most of the time Beings who organised stunts like this got bored, or had no idea what they were doing. Susan wasn't a 'go with the flow' kind of person, but even she could occasionally see the benefits of such an action. "I'm Susan," she added, more for something to say than anything.

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