ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇss ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇsᴛɪᴅɪɢɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ (cigam) wrote in valloic,
What was this? John Constantine couldn't utter a curse word? That was amazing and strange. "The magic of this place must be powerful," Zatanna mused, a light laugh escaping her. It certainly seemed to be, that wasn't just an empty observation, she could feel it all around her - the whole island pulsed with it, but it wasn't like Gotham where blood had soaked into the ground, along with the evil essence of a warlock out for all things bad. It wasn't...malevolent here. That she could tell, anyway.
"Occult History," she tacked on. "Was what he taught. Came over from England to teach in the OC. Did some exorcisms too, once he realized that was his thing. Magic returned gradually, the more you dreamed. It was a strange place, rife with its own problems, but I'd still take it over some of the places I saw in my dreams."
Her expression was fond, blue eyes nearly violet, aglow with curiosity. "What else do you want to know?"