fandomtownies | Caritas [Sunday Evening]

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Caritas [Sunday Evening]

Greg opened up Caritas, mulling over the conversation from earlier in the day with his school-appointed and very grumpy little brother.

He whistled as he started to reassemble the band, and then took his place behind the bar and waving cheerfully to Jarod on the other side of the bar.

[~~Wait for OCD threads!~~ Threads are up and Caritas is open.]

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"That's not too bad. There are a few people who are off by hundreds of years."

Hundreds of years? Christ, John could almost believe that this was a flash back to one of the times he'd been let out of Ravenscar, when he'd been more than half out've his mind.

He felt right at home, really.

"They all adapt as well as you?"

"Seems it. There's usually someone around to help out," Walter said. "We get enough stuff coming at us from outside that we students usually pull together to help each other."

John took a swallow of his G&T.

"Well. Ain't that sweet."

"It's either that or watch your friends die," Walter said, motioning Tino over for another lager. "Not a hard choice."

Dead friends?

John stared into his drink, remembering and shadows and blood and the smell of death.

He looked up and met Walter's gaze silently for a moment or so. The corner of his lip twitched upwards again.

"Oh yeah, kid. Nothing hard about it."

To the guy who had fought the creature possessing him to let one of his closest friends shoot him in the heart?

"Kid?"

From the man who'd been to Hell and back and damned an innocent soul. And, who'd just been served a couple of teeth grinding platitudes.

He nodded and took another swig of his drink.

"Right. And who are you, then, John Constantine?"

John shrugged and took a drag on his cigarette.

"No one much, Oh Angel of Death."

"Everyone who comes here has some story or other," Walter said, remembering his own cigarette.

No, he was not going to sit around and get drunk with one of the newbies, no matter how good looking he was.

He waved Tino over for another lager.

"And you believe them all?" asked John with a grin.

He held up his hand with the cigarette still held between his fingers. Then he folded his fingers over. When he opened his palm again, the cigarette had vannished.

"No. But it's interesting to hear what they come up with." Walter watched the sleight of hand without looking overly impressed.

John nodded.

"Best to take that fag off've your ear before your hair catches fire," he said.

Walter reached up and managed to not burn his fingertips on the cigarette neatly tucked behind his ear.

"Nice." He moved with a speed that might not even be a blur to tuck the cigarette behind John's ear.

He never liked being shown up, after all.

So, the kid who called himself 'The Angel of Death' was fast. Good to know. Though, John wasn't getting any non-human vibes from him. And, you could always tell...

He made no comment, and only ordered himself another drink.

Walter glanced over at John. "So, are you one of the school's new magic people, then? Or just good at parlor tricks?"

John settled back on his barstool, shrugging more deeply into his trench coat.

"I just know a few tricks," he said, "Enough to get me by."

"They had magic classes last semester," Walter said obliviously. "I'll leave that for other people. I've had my fill."

John nodded.

"It's not everyone who's got the nous for magic," he said, "Best to find out sooner rather than later whether or not you can stomach it."

The corners of his mouth may have twitched a fraction or so.

Walter snorted. "You talk like you have more stories than you want to admit to."

John took a drag and exhaled.

"Maybe I've just heard a few."

"Yeah." Walter rolled his eyes. He'd been Alfred's pupil too long to buy it. "They're your stories to tell or not."

John gave an inward chuckle at the boy's petulant expression.

"I might note that you haven't exactly volunteered any of yours, mate."

Walter shrugged. "I hunt vampires. Most of the stories are just bloody, not interesting."

But fun.

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