WHO: Epiphany Greaves and OPEN! WHAT: Epiphany is new in town. WHEN: Night, February 27th. WHERE: The sidewalks of Lawrence. WARNINGS: Language. Epiphany uses it.
John had been spying on her. He’d admitted it. Flat out told her that he’d done a background search on her. The nerve of him. Epiphany was rightfully pissed as she stormed away from him, convinced that he’d deserved the punch to the jaw she’d given him. Or worse. God. She should have pulled out her gun and shot him in the knee or something. Or the dick. That would have been a great punishment for John, alright. A punch is common enough for him. As is a general beatdown. She’d stopped one of those earlier that day, after all.
She shouldn’t have stopped them.
Her mind wasn’t on where she was going as she turned the corner, leaving him behind her in an alley in Brixton. It was the middle of the night. Most girls would be worried being in an area like that, alone, in the middle of the night. But Epiphany wasn’t most girls. Not in the slightest.
She’d gone another few blocks, still seething and grumbling about John, before she noticed anything was off about the place, and once she noticed she stopped dead in her tracks and looked around. Something was way off. It was still the middle of the night, but it wasn’t as grungy. Could be explained by her stumbling into a nicer part of Brixton (was there a nicer part of Brixton?), but that didn’t seem to be it. The street signs were different. The cars were on the wrong side of the road, almost like in America. “What the fuck is going on here?” she muttered as she spun around, trying to take everything in. Nothing seemed right here. Nothing at all.
But at least she knew who to blame. Epiphany turned around, stomping back the way she came and yelled, “John Constantine! What the fuck did you do?!”