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capeandcowllogs2011-01-03 02:05 am
afriendtosell.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2011-01-03 02:05 am
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WHO: John Constantine | ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
afriendtosell and Zatanna Zatara | sdrawkcabcigam
WHERE: Zatanna's place.
WHEN: January 2nd or thereabouts, obviously at night.
WARNINGS: none thus far?
SUMMARY: Zee needs to talk to Constantine about something.
FORMAT: Para.
Talks had never sat well with him, even when he had been young. There was always shouting involved, or truth telling; someone always got hurt, and it'd be up to him, or God, or some other fuck-off force in the universe to set things right again. "Let's just have a chat," never ended in the intent that the words expressed -- there were usually too many feelings involved, or too many machinations going on at once for any talking to actually go on.
Mostly, Constantine sat and listened whenever there was a talk to be had. It was the quickest way to get the bloody things over with without breaking too many bones. Zatanna would find him sitting in the library when she arrived, his feet propped up on the desk before him as he leaned back and casually scanned a book about binding circles.
"Wotcher, gorgeous," he said, eying her over the rim of the book. "How was the vacation?"
afriendtosell and Zatanna Zatara | sdrawkcabcigam WHERE: Zatanna's place.
WHEN: January 2nd or thereabouts, obviously at night.
WARNINGS: none thus far?
SUMMARY: Zee needs to talk to Constantine about something.
FORMAT: Para.
Talks had never sat well with him, even when he had been young. There was always shouting involved, or truth telling; someone always got hurt, and it'd be up to him, or God, or some other fuck-off force in the universe to set things right again. "Let's just have a chat," never ended in the intent that the words expressed -- there were usually too many feelings involved, or too many machinations going on at once for any talking to actually go on.
Mostly, Constantine sat and listened whenever there was a talk to be had. It was the quickest way to get the bloody things over with without breaking too many bones. Zatanna would find him sitting in the library when she arrived, his feet propped up on the desk before him as he leaned back and casually scanned a book about binding circles.
"Wotcher, gorgeous," he said, eying her over the rim of the book. "How was the vacation?"
It's inevitable that it happens every time you do that.
"You should smile more often." That line of conversation ends before it even begins as she fidgets in her seat. "This place isn't so bad. You've already experienced leaving... and forgetting. It's like blinking an eye." This was a delicate subject. Saying the wrong thing now might lead backwards rather than forwards. "I'm happy here. I'm not saying that I want to stay, but I've though about this for a long time and I'm not sure what I'd want to do, given the option. There are people here who I can't see back home or I won't remember knowing back home." Her tone was more firm, but still uncertain. She wasn't sure where she was heading with this, but when she opens her mouth Zatanna almost regrets what she chooses to say. "This conversation we're having now will have never happened."