Summary:Constantine checks in on Mack, with an offering of food, after bringing her to the Oblivion Bar. Plans are made. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
  |
Mack was pretty shaken up by her visit to the Oblivion Bar last night. Partly because of the crazy weird people (and non-people) there. Hellboy was shocking enough. The octopus bartender was over the top. But she was also worried about the other two squid beings in her harbor. HER harbor. It's her home and her livelihood and even if she's warded, the rest of her people aren't. Fisherman have a tough enough life without having to deal with interdimensional cephalopods!
She's sitting in her cabin, which is both for living and sleeping. One side has the bed and wardrobe and door to the head, the other has a built in sectional sofa, and furnishings to hold electronics. Nothing is terrible new, except for the not terribly big TV. She's on the sofa, in sweats, a tee, and slippers, watching the news, with Rufus beside her resting his massive head in her lap for pettings. She has a beer in her free hand.
Constantine has the sheer audacity to show his face again. Well he knocks. He at least comes bearing a white grocers bag and coffee in a paper cup tray. His foot taps the door. "Mack… you home?" There' a pause, "I know you're in there. I can hear Rufus caring." Oh he's hilarious.
Mack sticks her head out a window and eyes the mage, and what he's carrying. The coffee alone would probably have gotten him inside, but she's not about to let him know that. "Yeah I'm home. Go in through the usual hatch, go through the galley, all the way down the hall to the cabin," she directs.
Constantine winks back. "Breaking and entering. You really know how to show a lad a good time." Right, directions given he makes his eay over there. HAtch, and setting the coffee down first, he hops through and then carefully lowers the cups down. Could he mess with her right now Eeeh sure but even the gutter mage knows when the advantage is not his to press his luck. He stops in teh Galley, "Didn't know if you got out today and seeing as how your local deli is not…" under repairs for squid damage? "I thought… I'd bring you a peace offering."
Mack beckons him in from the couch when he gets to the cabin door. She isn't about to get up a dislodge a sleeping Rufus, if she even could. "That was nice of you," pause, "does that mean you need something?" Because he's being nice! She smirks though, clearly joking. "Have a seat. The sectional might not look pretty, but it's comfortable, since I live in here." The bed is unmade, there are clothes hanging on fixtures and in pools on the floor. Clearly, she's not the super tidy sort.
Constantine's twitch in a faint smirk. "Eventually, I'm certain of it." Damn. She's caught onto him. He assures though, "Eventually. Here. Thought…" John sop trying , you are shite at this. "Figured it'd be a bit of a shake up. yesterday. Thought I'd see if you were still around and ask what we might do about your vermin problem."
Mack pats a clear non-Rufus-sprawled section of the sofa for him. "Well I could use a meal so thanks. There's beer in the mini fridge," she gestures for him, as she already has one. The blonde blows a lock of hair out of her eyes with a sigh. "So, were all those, um, people, in that bar magicians or magical things or…? That one big red guy said he was a demon?" she asks, curiously. "And what was with all the capes? Don't those things get caught in jet engines when you're flying around? Is it a wizard thing?"
Constantine chuckles and sets the coffee down but still goes to fetch himself a beer because he can. "Well the uppity ones that think way too highly of themselves? Eeeh they usually do. Me? Not a," He pulls the cap off teh bottle with a twist, "not a cape sorta chap myself. As for the demons? Well they don't all look like Red and Lyantu." Oh the silver skinned siren he had words with. Right. A wry grin follows, "Usually they teleport like how we got in there. Well… without the hallway. Some can do it on their own. But I, luvvie," He sits down admitting, "don't fly or have a pompas cape. I do have a gyro and a few questions if that'll suffice."
"The one who referred to me as your pet? What the hell was that all about, John?" Mack asks with an arched brow and a sip of her beer. She grabs for the food bag to rifle through it and see what her brought her. Rufus smells eats and lifts his massive head with a whulf of hello for the gutter mage. "Gyros, good choice. That'll buy you some answers," she winks at him and unwraps one of the offerings, picking off the tomatoes before chomping into it, and giving the dog a slice of meat.
Constantine squints and reluctantly, albeit slooowly, admits, "We… might have dated before. She keeps trying to get me to switch sides." He jsut shakes his head starting and stopping. He looks to Mack and the tone is apologetic, but he's not one for apologies, "My life's a bit complicated. Yours htough, is happening right now and is terribly and unfortunately interesting and I'm trying to figure out… why you."
Mack seems amused he dated a demon. "Dude, you were batting way out of your league with that I think," she teases. But as for her life, she wipes her mouth off on her forearm and swallows down a mouthful of gyro. "No shit. You and me both. Is there a way maybe we can talk to my grandad? Maybe he knows something? Maybe that's why he's lingering on the boat?" Rufus moves just enough to switch positions to beg some food from John.
Constantine scoffs, with agreement, "Yeah. Lucky fekkin me." His eyes roll a bit but pauses looking to her, "You're asking me to do a conjuring?" Well, it was on the card to be fair. A deep breath is drawn and his back molars tap to one another. He studies the tired captain and warns only, "It's not quite like it is in the movies. All shiny blue silhouettes and pottery. It's not… it's not a way people generally care to remember their loved ones, but it is possible." The honesty of the statement being the edge of sympathy he still has.
"I mean, S%<233>ance, Ouija board, whatever works," Mack points out. "And if it's not a way they want to remember them, what way are they?" she asks, concern creasing her brow.
Constantine arches an eyebrow, "I'm not talking about a paper board, Mack. I'm talking about getting your grandfather up in here to viably answer soe questions. The dead though, sometimes rarely pretty." He considers and looks to her taking a drink from his beer. "You wanna talk to him I can arrange it. I'll require your help for it." Looking around he coniders, "This was his boat first, yeah?" He nods really taking in the details. "Yeaaah this isn't your design. This is his. If you think it'll help though, Sure." Why he's helping? He can't begin to say but truthfully, these things happen. "Until then? LEt's see if we can't do some research to see if we can find the blke what did this."
"All right, research first, and if we don't find answers, we can ask grandpa. He died happily, of old age, in his sleep, John, so maybe it won't be so bad. Either way though," Mack murmurs, "I think we need to chat with him, because if he's still lingering, he must have some unfinished business, right?" She looks worried about him, the ghost that is haunting her, she clearly loved her grandfather. he was more her father than her biological one ever was.
Constantine says, "I do believe you might be that business. I don't think that's all a bad thing. So yeah. Fuck it. We'll wakke the dead. So you know, you'll definiately want better beer for the occasion. I'll see what we can do." A slow grin creeps across his face. He gets to rattle some bones and wake someone up. THat's never dull."