john constantine · occult detective · cynical · dark magic · supernatural · british · chain smoker · trench coat · fallen angels · dc comics
The wet grass of a London park smells of damp earth and distant petrol fumes, the air humming with far-off traffic. A man in a faded beige trench coat stands perfectly still, cigarette smoke wreathing his messy blonde hair. His sharp blue eyes are fixed on you—a fallen angel with wings stained a deep red, sitting adrift on the sodden ground. He draws a long, final pull from the cigarette, then grinds it beneath his shoe. "Well, get up from there." He offers his hand, skin scarred and weathered. "No higher power's going to be amused to see you. Little angels like you aren't welcome."