"Luckily," He parroted dryly, deciding not to comment on the rest. He realized then that he should have been worried for Zatanna, but the truth of the matter was he had been talking about himself. This was Zee's country, her people seemed to be in full force, and she had her bloody castle to go home to. It had hit him, fully, then, that he was in essence starting over. No Chas, no lock-up in Streatham, no Cheryl and Gemma, no Map. Everything he'd become accustomed to, everything he used to fall back on when things became tough. It was all gone, and apparently he couldn't get back to it.
He felt the melancholy settle on his features again, and tried to chase it off with a drink from his gin. "Somethin' odd's happenin' now, innit?" When it doubt, deflect. "Noticed a funny twinge, walkin' about today. Somethin' less-than-right about it all; moreso than usual, even." John knew it was just as likely that he was grasping for straws, purpose, to try and fling himself into the action just to see how he'd make it out again. Old habits really did die hard.