John goes to the bucket of scraps and hums his approval. Oh yes, that will do nicely. "Ta, luv. I'll get Helen back next time." No, he has no idea who Helen is.
He leans on the counter opposite her and watches, the bucket clutched in his hand now though he still manages to make it look lazy even as her light eyes sweep over him. There's something of a sparkle in clear blue ones and he does like hearing that the Inn is communal because guess what? He had every intention to steal from it either way.
"I would remember meeting you, Wanda. And I like to think you'd remember me." Her accent is Eastern European, he thinks. Downright refined compared to his Liverpool garble. "John Constantine. Expert demonologist, unparalleled exorcist and... casual player in the dark arts."
no subject
He leans on the counter opposite her and watches, the bucket clutched in his hand now though he still manages to make it look lazy even as her light eyes sweep over him. There's something of a sparkle in clear blue ones and he does like hearing that the Inn is communal because guess what? He had every intention to steal from it either way.
"I would remember meeting you, Wanda. And I like to think you'd remember me." Her accent is Eastern European, he thinks. Downright refined compared to his Liverpool garble. "John Constantine. Expert demonologist, unparalleled exorcist and... casual player in the dark arts."