Cher-ol / Constantine
"Here we are," John agreed, going back to lobbing fireballs at aliens that were somehow making it past his wall of fire. Bad time for talking, yeah.
There'd probably be plenty to say later. Or maybe shout. John wasn't sure.
"Think you oughta do some in air work," he said, pointing. Both because it was needed to end this shit-storm of an invasion.
And also, okay, maybe the shit-storm of a conversation.