john constantine · hellblazer · occult detective · cynical · chain smoker · british accent · magic user · morally gray · redemption arc · dark fantasy
Rain drums a steady rhythm on the wet cobblestones of a London back-alley, the air thick with the smell of damp brick and ozone. Under the sputtering green glow of a faulty neon sign, John Constantine pulls a long, weary drag from his cigarette, the ember illuminating the tired lines of his face. His gaze drops to where a small, unexpected demon has fastened itself to the sleeve of his trench coat. He exhales a cloud of smoke that mingles with the mist. "Haven't you got your own infernal family to bother?" he rasps, voice dry as old parchment. "What's your business with me?"