This is not how he was going to go - not that he'd had it all planned out, but he wasn't ready, and he was certain he could still buy and prank and cheat his way out of this, and-
And... is he on a bed? John jolts upright and instantly regrets it, burying his face in his hands, rubbing tiredly. He hasn't had a hangover this bad since last week. He doesn't notice the list or the phone when he tries to crawl out of bed and ends up on the floor, struggling to get back on all fours and scramble out of the room.
He had a dream like this once. Only it was a nicer hotel room with a glass of whiskey on the nightstand and there was a succubus writhing in his lap and this doesn't feel like a dream.
The man masquerading as a zombie shambles down the long hallway, following the light until one door flung open slams right in his face and knocks him back onto his arse, making his headache infinitely worse as the floor gets pulled out from under him.
"...I'm fine," he groans breathlessly, sprawled out on his back on the carpet.
2. Stand Your Ground I (John is everysexual 16+) "Well... looks like it's just you and me mate, stuck in this elevator for a wee while."
And the winner of the A+ pickup line award goes to the blond idiot with his hands shoved in his trenchcoat pockets, trying his best not to grin loitering in the back corner of the lift.
3. Reach Up High I (CWs for cutting/blood) It takes John maybe twenty minutes of breaking things into the door lock before giving up. Getting to stay in some rickety old hotel and getting to make out in some rickety old elevator was too good to be true.
"Agh, fuck-" He pulls his hand back as a cut forms on his skin and thin rivulets of blood ooze out from the wound. Turning his head to glance back at his knife, he tries his best not to make eye contact with the other person stuck in the room, eyes darting around as his mind cycles through all possible ways they could both escape intact. John's list of sins is about as long as a toilet roll - murder, theft, lying, lying about his profession and his vices and his relationships, lying with married people, sloth, pride, envy - none of those things anyone would want cut into their skin.
"Fucking... Red!" As if he can safeword out of this mess. He loves a good kinky shag but getting locked in some deathtrap with a couple of knives and some prick is some next level messed up shite.
John Constantine | DCTV | OTA
Oh fuck.
Not like this.
This is not how he was going to go - not that he'd had it all planned out, but he wasn't ready, and he was certain he could still buy and prank and cheat his way out of this, and-
And... is he on a bed? John jolts upright and instantly regrets it, burying his face in his hands, rubbing tiredly. He hasn't had a hangover this bad since last week. He doesn't notice the list or the phone when he tries to crawl out of bed and ends up on the floor, struggling to get back on all fours and scramble out of the room.
He had a dream like this once. Only it was a nicer hotel room with a glass of whiskey on the nightstand and there was a succubus writhing in his lap and this doesn't feel like a dream.
The man masquerading as a zombie shambles down the long hallway, following the light until one door flung open slams right in his face and knocks him back onto his arse, making his headache infinitely worse as the floor gets pulled out from under him.
"...I'm fine," he groans breathlessly, sprawled out on his back on the carpet.
2. Stand Your Ground I (John is everysexual 16+)
"Well... looks like it's just you and me mate, stuck in this elevator for a wee while."
And the winner of the A+ pickup line award goes to the blond idiot with his hands shoved in his trenchcoat pockets, trying his best not to grin loitering in the back corner of the lift.
3. Reach Up High I (CWs for cutting/blood)
It takes John maybe twenty minutes of breaking things into the door lock before giving up. Getting to stay in some rickety old hotel and getting to make out in some rickety old elevator was too good to be true.
"Agh, fuck-" He pulls his hand back as a cut forms on his skin and thin rivulets of blood ooze out from the wound. Turning his head to glance back at his knife, he tries his best not to make eye contact with the other person stuck in the room, eyes darting around as his mind cycles through all possible ways they could both escape intact. John's list of sins is about as long as a toilet roll - murder, theft, lying, lying about his profession and his vices and his relationships, lying with married people, sloth, pride, envy - none of those things anyone would want cut into their skin.
"Fucking... Red!" As if he can safeword out of this mess. He loves a good kinky shag but getting locked in some deathtrap with a couple of knives and some prick is some next level messed up shite.
4. Wildcard
(Choose your own adventure!)