John Constantine (ex_jconstant860) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-01-27 22:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | cordelia chase, john constantine |
Introductory Post - John and Cordelia
Who: John Constantine and Cordelia Chase
When: January 27th, near Midnight
Where: John's Los Angeles to Angel's Los Angeles and the Hyperion
Why: God has plans for John. Something he's currently come to believe is true.
Rating: TBA
Status: Incomplete
After leaving Angela to hide the Spear of Destiny, all John wanted to do was crawl into bed. For the first time in his life things seemed well. His Lung Cancer was completely healed and he wasn't on the verge of death. Sadly, that was all thanks to the Morning Star who didn't desire to lose his most promising soul to God and another thank you to that same individual for doing the John's job of deporting Memmon back to Hell. Everything was right again.
Finally and for the first time.
Stepping out of yellow cab that Chas had once driven, John dragged out his brass Striker 12 with the Dragon's Fire and propt it on his shoulder. Running a hand through his hair, he then collected the small baubles of holy water and set them in his pocket, along with some crosses and the blessed brass knuckles with small crosses, then finally the small box of the Amityville Skreetcher Beetle. Everything he needed.
Exhaling, he shut the door and filled with exhaustion, stepped onto the curb and moved towards his door. Reaching out, he grabbed ahold of the knob and moved to turn it when something alerted his Second Eye that something was amiss. Pausing and stiffening, John turned, but what wasn't behind him was the yellow cab nor the street that he once called home. Facing back towards his building, John was taken back by the lack of it. It was gone. He was in fact standing in the middle of a street.
Lowering his Striker 12, hand on the trigger and the other on the barrel, he slowly turned around, preparing himself in case any demons attacked him. Shockingly the night seemed still and quiet. Odd for Los Angeles.
Moving back around, a large building loomed ahead of him. An old hotel that seemed to be inhabited. Which was funny to John. He didn't recall seeing that before.
Exhaling, he rolled his eyes towards the Heaven and with a slump of his shoulders, he finally realized what had happened. God has plans for him. Dropping his chin to his chest, he shook his head and lowered his weapon, but didn't take his finger off the trigger. "Fine," he said to himself, removing a stick of gum from his pocket. With one hand, he shed it from the confindes of its foil and popped it into his mouth. Crumbling the wrapper, he tucked it back into his pocket and adjusted his long coat. "If He wants it this way. Then so be it."
Straightening his shoulders, keeping the gun hidden in the moving folds of his coat, John headed towards the Hyperion. Reaching out, he opened the door and stepped inside, letting his dark eyes take in the lobby as he slowly chewed on his gum.