Re: In-person: Zee/John
[John Constantine was dressed.
Dressed meant clad in a suspiciously familiar trench coat and a slightly ragged suit underneath. The suit was clean, at least - he hadn't managed to tumble into the gutter yet, but he'd only just arrived, give it time, give it time.
He didn't know how he measured up to the man she remembered, the one she knew where she'd been plucked from. Jumping about in time was unpredictable and full of little heartbreaks. He was perhaps a little older than that man, though it was hard to say just how old, exactly. His face had the lines of a hard-lived early thirties, but his eyes spoke something older than that, dusty blue behind the veil of smoke in the room.
One thing was for certain, and that was god, how he hated porting. There were a half dozen better ways to travel than Zee's personal favorite of dragging a man out of his comfortable physical space and directly into another one without so much as a how do you do in the middle. Being one place and then another didn't suit him, and he had to catch his footing on his epic arrival, looking down at her on her comfortable couch with a grimace of displeased surprise hanging over from the moment when he'd got the proverbial cane around the waist. He squinted a little through the smoke, assessing its presence, the smell of the dead in the air, and the offerings he spotted when he glanced over his shoulder.]
All this for little old me? [He sidestepped her knees and sat down on the couch beside her with a comfortable whumpf, making his weight felt beside her as he fished in his coat pocket for his cigarettes.] I'm chuffed. What's up next, a good old-fashioned smudging? I don't think I'm contagious enough to deserve all this.
[He didn't say a word about her, not yet. Didn't tell her how she looked, because she knew that, and they'd known each other long enough that it would have been silly to say. He didn't leer at the open scraps of skin showing through the sarong, but he did appreciate them before he sat down, and he noticed what was important. Still gorgeous, and younger than he remembered, enough that he'd need to really think before he filled in too many blanks for her. Not everybody needed to know everything.]