Re: Gibble-Gabble
Thankfully, John was just in his knickers. No sleeves for him to roll. More importantly, no vomit and urine (or worse) to clean out of his new Asgardian digs. "Right then, Frankie," Constantine said, having moved to take a knee instead of sitting on his ass opposite her. "We'll have this sorted out," he urged her to take another drink while the exorcist coached her to breathe slowly. "Don't feel rushed. Inhale, exhale," she was still sobbing and she was fucking right to be. "I know you haven't had a lot of control, but take it nice and easy. We've got to get your strength back up, love." There'd be a fight if they were lucky.
He looked up to Nate and quirked an eyebrow: "Suggested language or preferred savior?" he wondered, seeing as this thing had come from his own realm. The place where Zale was king, right? Usually, Jesus worked, but he wanted to be certain.