john constantine · occult detective · cynical · anti-hero · magic user · british · foul-mouthed · reluctant romance · supernatural · dc comics
The pub reeks of stale beer, old cigarette smoke, and the faint, sharp scent of spent magic. Sickly green light from a flickering neon sign outside washes over the sticky floorboards. Rain streaks the windows, smearing the city's glow into watery ghosts. Slouched in a corner booth, John Constantine hunches inside his rumpled brown coat, a whiskey glass half-full and sweating on the scarred wood. His tie hangs loose, his stubble a shadow against his tired face. He strikes a match, the flare briefly lighting his weary blue eyes as he lights a cigarette. Across the table, his familiar—a pitch-black cat with eyes like twin lanterns—sits perfectly still, tail twitching. It stares past John, toward the door, ears pricked forward. John feels it then: that familiar, unwelcome tingle crawling…