[closed]

[keepgodwaiting]

WHO: Johanna Constantine (keepgodwaiting) & a variety of appointments
WHAT: Autumnal and spooky hijinks
WHERE: Around!
WHEN: End of September, into October
WARNINGS: Probably demon shit in the Peter thread; probably social awkwardness in the Steven thread; more if they come up

I swear to God I saw her howlin' at the sky
She ain't out to get you but she's better on your side
And she don't wanna be anybody else
She's a woman in total control of herself
It's such a wonder to be under her spell
What a woman in total control of herself

Comments

[keepgodwaiting]

Constantine is, indeed, a bad influence. Ask anybody.

"It physically pains me to see you lie badly, Steven." She smiles -- she's teasing. Mostly.

"And maybe it'll come in handy. You know, if you ever need to give Marc the slip or something. Does he know you're out with me tonight?"

[latersgators]

Steven frowns and shakes his head. But then he lifts a hand as if to stop her.

"But-- I don't need his permission. To go anywhere or do anything. I mean, that would be weird, wouldn't it?" They have a weird enough dynamic without calling any attention to it, honestly.

"He's just-- worried, y'know. Like a normal level of worry. I would be too. This place is like. Not that safe? Or nice. I mean it's nice, but not. It's weird? Not like home."

[keepgodwaiting]

"It'd be weird."

And Johanna's still not convinced that it isn't that kind of weird, with Steven describing Marc as "adamant" about him not going places. But she supposes she'll drop it. There's a limit to the help you can give someone who doesn't want it.

"Yeah, it's weird." She sighs. "Where in London do you live? ..."

She'll steer the conversation towards more normal small talk, if she can: just two Londoners chatting about neighborhoods, traffic, tourists and pubs. A spot of nostalgia in a strange place.

[latersgators]

"I'm in Brixton, living in--" 'me mum's flat', he can't say anymore, because that's not true, and his eyebrows knit together as his gaze trails away, trying to figure out exactly what is going on with that flat. Is it Marc's? Or is he paying crazy rent with bags of illegally-obtained money? Steven's never gotten a rental bill in the mail, or met with the real landlord. Maybe Marc did buy it. Come to think of it, he's not far from Layla...

"Well I... thought it was me mum's flat..." Something to no doubt 'Hey Marc?' about later. One of many things he should be asking more questions about.

"What about yourself?"