John Constantine / OTA
What a fucking time to be alive. One minute it was melt-city (for some. Okay, if he was being honest, John had been fine. There was a spell for that. There was a spell for everything.) the next his phone was vibrating from an all caps message about Vegas being the treat of the week.
And, oh, debauchery was on the horizon now; that was simply a fact.
The first stop in all the fun, of course, was the casino. The MGM to be more precise. Not because it was better or worse than any of the other ones, but because it'd been the first one he'd stepped into and had stayed because -- well. The Lion enclosure was something else.
He had luck on his side -- he always did -- and so was contemplating the slot machines versus blackjack when he spotted a familiar face. It figured. A city with over a million tourists a day and he'd still run into one of the fifty he lived with. That was fine. Maybe some company would make it better. "Fancy meeting you here."