3854/A few fingers of hellfire

A few fingers of hellfire
Date of Scene:	18 October 2020
Location:	Josie's Bar
Synopsis:	Levian and Peggy get spotted by Constantine, and the magus gives Levian a dire warning.
Cast of Characters:	Levian, Peggy Carter, John Constantine

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Levian has posed:
It's true that Levian is a very curious person, but he also takes comfort in familiar things. After the drone attack on SHIELD, he's a bit overwhelmed by the shocking revelation that humans actually have tangibly difficult problems, so he returned to the last comfortable place he remembers.

He sits at a table in Josie's Bar, near the back where Daisy sat before, since she wanted a vantage point to have an eye on the door and the bar at large. He's back in his denim jacket and casual outfit, sipping a glass of rum, perhaps hoping Daisy will stop by, though he hasn't bothered to text her to ask.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Med leave. Peggy hates it, especially when she's actually not that banged up, though the careful bandaging all across the left side of her face is getting some *looks*. She wasn't going to sit home and pout about it. So, cleaned up, released from the medical ward, a hair cut to even out what she burned off, and she's given herself a personal mission -- figure out who the heck this new agent was.

It's not hard to track him, especially with SHIELD's resources. Since she's not here officially, and not on duty, she's dressed for the occasion -- a pair of high waisted sailor's-style navy slacks with a ivory silk shirt tucked into them. The wool pea coat she wears over top just completes the 'model from Modcloth' look, though her hair is no longer the right style. She slips into the bar, dark eyes evaluating the place for a handful of moments before landing on her target. Casually, wedge heels carry her over in Levian's direction. She doesn't go straight to the table, but the corner of the bar near, putting in an order for a pint.

John Constantine has posed:
The bar's reasonably crowded; plenty of folks coming off shifts or bracing themselves before going to work. It's enough that surveiling the crowd is a little impractical and the outbursts of laughter and noise here and there make otherwise twitchy insticts a little overwhelmed.

Like most bars it's laid out to make more room for people to drink than to loiter. Sitting at a low table, a person can almost be invisible in a crowd-- or something close to it, any way.

John's fingers curl around an ounce of rotgut in his shotglass and he takes a measured sip. There's a trick to watching someone without watching them, not twigging that 'instict' for being monitored. John knows it well, and is keeping careful track of Levian despite his otherwise nonchalant posture.

"Hey, is this seat open?" A blonde in casual clothing approaches him, dressed like she just left some clerical position. John lifts a foot and puts it on the seat, flickering fingers at her.

"Taken. Piss off," he instructs the girl. She gives him a disgusted look at moves along, leaving the magus alone again.

Levian has posed:
Levian sniffs the air when Peggy sits down, something he smells making her focus on her. "Hey." he calls over in a very speaking voice tone, in the middle of a bar. He doesn't seem inclined on yelling.

"Sorry." He shakes his head and starts sipping his rum again. He seemed inclined on saying something, then perhaps rethought it. He's just going to be silent and sip his rum instead.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Normally, Peggy would be quite aware John's staking out the place too, but she's already got her goal for the night and found her not-prey... Subject, maybe, is a better word? So, that's where her attention is focused. Her scent is fairly normal, soap and some girlie shampoo, her usual vanilla and amber oil perfume she wears, the salve for the burns across her face and hand. But also SHIELD issue weapons. The ICER hidden beneath her shoulder and all it's moving parts, neurotoxin bullet included. She's not looking directly at him, but as the apology comes in her direction, she blinks and finally looks over.

"...You... you talking to me? No reason to be sorry." Peggy offers him a too-casual smile from matte-red painted lips. Her beer is claimed, card given in exchange, and she takes a few steps closer to his table. Eyes narrow just a bit. She's an excellent actress, "...swear I've seen you around..." Her british accent clips out gently.

Levian has posed:
"Oh, yeah, I didn't want to be weird. I'm still adapting to... American culture. So, sometimes I do and say things that Americans think are strange." Levian explains, sniffing his rum. He likes the smell of rum. "I don't know, I don't live the city, and I like to sleep on fire escapes. Maybe I slept on your fire escape once."

He offers his hand to her, nodding. "Levian. 999th-- er, sorry. Just Levian. Levian Everyman."

John Constantine has posed:
"Bollocks." John's face somehow softens and sours when Peggy arrives at the table. His view's blocked momentarily so he gets to his feet and slouches through the crowd. It takes him just a minute to end up next to the wait stand at the edge of the bar, brushing up against the brass rungs that delineate it as the pickup point for the wait staff.

"Ho mate," he hails the bartender. A flash of folded twenties gets the man's attention better than one more voice. "Three shots of rum, eh?" The money slides across the counter and he glances at Peggy and Levian, then turns around and stands behind a tall and oblivious fellow before they make him. The magus digs out his cigarettes and a lighter, stares at both in his hands, then curses and jams them back into a pocket.

The shots are set out for him. John glances around, then doctors two with a splash from a silvered hip flask that features a large Coptic cross on it. Holy water added, he downs the third, then flags down a waitress and puts the two remaining ones on her tray. "Oye thanks luv, my mates are waiting for me at the table over. Leggy brunette there and the bloke she's with. Mind running these over while I take a piss?" John gestures at the bathroom with one hand and slips her a five-spot with the other. The waitress looks him over, then flashes a smile and heads towards the table to drop the drinks off with Peggy and Lev.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I suspect you'd be considered weird back home too, for what it's worth." Peggy's British tone is just slightly teasing to Levian's commentar about adapting to American culture. He gets a wry, not too judgmental smirk from her. Without invitation, she brings herself to slip up onto the barstool across from him, pint rested on the table and her left hand reaching up to take his. The right is still fairly bandaged over, especially on the outside. Best not to anger the doctors by fussing around with it too much. "We really need to get you a better alias, don't we? I'll tell Daisy. Margaret Carter." Her smile comes a bit more as she reveals the connection. The poor man too fumbling for her to even bother keeping everything under the table.

Then there are two drinks suddenly at their side. Peggy's shoulders stiffen a bit, especially since this is so far from her stomping ground. She looks up and over, trying to figure out who sent them, which might just give him enough time to down the thing before she can stop, but her hand immediately comes over and she tries to grab his wrist as he's scooping it up. She may not be fast enough, "Lev, stop! Stop... you have no CLUE where these came from!" She whispers fiercely, the paranoia sharp and hard behind her clipped voice. But it may already be too late.

Levian has posed:
"Oh, you're Daisy's friend... that's why you smell like their weapons mixed with flowers. I like it." Levian frowns slightly at the criticism of his alias. "But... Everyman will make humans think I'm just a normal human. I chose very common words in the English language."

He reaches for his drink, but when he grabs her wrist, he defers to her, as she's the well, expert at being human and an agent. "Why would anyone poison us? Do they know who we are?"

John Constantine has posed:
There's a *click* from behind Lev's shoulder and John is standing at the table. It's smoothly done, too, hanging behind people and working the blind spots right up until he arrives. Peggy would be able to read the angle of his shoulder to suggest he's holding a weapon on Lev; Lev would feel something prodding his lower back.

"Let's all remain nice and calm, and I won't have to use this water gun on you," John suggests to Lev. "It's full of consecrated water. Like acid to your kind, eh?" He cocks a brow at Peggy. "Any particular reason you're suppin' with a demonkin? Fiend by the look of him." He pokes Lev again. "One of th' Incendiaries, if I don't miss my mark. Stank of brimstone a bloody mile away from here."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The look in Peggy's eyes is really *quite* concerned as she stares at the possible-agent across from her. He's going to be a project. She carefully guides the shot out of his hand and sets both of them aside, not even considering sipping her own. She's not certain who might be after them, but the discomfort in her eyes says she thinks someone is. "Everyman...is not a common surname, Lev. And after yesterday? People definitely know who we are. You stick out like a sore thumb, my frie..." And then she falls quiet, seeing that familiar face behind him.

While John is standing in a way that suggests he has a weapon, Peggy's not moving to fight. Yet. If anything, her body language has become more casual again. Just three friends talking. She leans back on her barstool, long legs crossing as she picks up her pint and gives John a smile that is just a little too sweet to be real. "Johnny. Feel like it's been ages. And I'd very kindly ask you to step away from the *asset* I'm speaking with, hmm? Maybe sit and have a pint, old friend." There is no surprise on her face about the demonkin revelation. Either she knew, or she's a very good actor.

Levian has posed:
"It is?" Levian asks, his hair standing up as he finds himself in a clearly dangerous situation. "I don't know a lot about weapons that humans use on demons, I didn't really spend time on Earth."

His body is shaking, though not out of fear so much as like an animal that's waiting for a time to strike and barely able to contain their instinctive response.

"Johnny? Like, John?" he asks, his body beginning to shake again.

A human with demon weapons, named John? "What's your last name?" he asks without looking back, not making any sudden movements. But something in his tone suggests that he dreads the answer.

John Constantine has posed:
"Peglet. Doll. Love the hair," John informs Peggy. The casual conversation doesn't make him relax. Or, perhaps, he's already plenty relaxed, and still quite capable.

John pokes Levian's back again. "It's a wonnerful little invention called a squirt gun," he informs Lev. "Simplest thing in the world, but hell on wheels for dealing with, well. Hell on wheels."

He looks to Peggy, then back to Lev. "<I'd tell you my name but I like the fear in your voice,>" he says. To Lev, his words are perfectly clear; to Peggy, the Infernal dialects come across as something heavily glottal and more strongly inflected than even Russian. All angry consonants, like the words themselves were skewered and tortured over a fire pit.

He switches back to English. "I tell you who I am, you might give in to suicidal despair. What's your angle with the nice lady?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Thanks, John. A minor explosion decided I could use a different style..." Peggy casually comments to the compliment. That might explain the bandages, too. For all the casual, careless tilt of her body, Peggy's dark eyes are sharp. She's weighing the odds, how quickly she could intervene between John and the man in front of her. What angle it'd take to get across the table. The easiest way to pull the confused almost-agent out of the line of fire. But none of the math she's doing adds up well. So, she simply keeps that sweet smile on her lips for John. She even takes a purposefully casual sip of her beer. The gutteral sounds between them gets an arch of her brow -- a language she doesn't speak. A rarity.

"Clearly, you two go back, somehow. But we are in a lovely bar surrounded by perfectly normal people who do *not* need to be drawn into old arguments. So, if you're going to fight, I suggest we finish our drinks and take this outside for a calm walk in the park, perhaps?" Where Peggy would have better leverage to get between them, should she need. "And I told you, John, he's an asset." Her voice is flatter there. On the edge of a threat. The impression that she will do what she needs to protect SHIELD assets.

Levian has posed:
Levian's nails start to dig into the wood of the table, hissing like a cat when John speaks that infernal tongue. "There's what English speaking humans call an urban legend, in Hell. About a human who can come to Hell and mock the lords. He can trick them and kill demons as if we were prey. Of all the myths about holy warriors descending into Hell, this is one of the most terrifying, because it's from recent history..."

His nails dig into the table a bit more, tension clearly rising as John can likely feel the heat rise on Levian's body. "They call him... the Hellblazer. The only natural predator of demons other than an angel or a god..."

But when Peggy speaks, his tension eases slightly. It's soothing when she speaks, an air of order and control. "I was accidentally summoned to Earth, I've only been on this planet for a month. I discovered that Lucifer exists, and he said I could stay on Earth if I stayed out of trouble. I'm here to learn about Earth, and humans, and become better at magic without having to be a slave to Demon Lords. I don't want to be a slave to Lucifer either."

His shaking starts to become a bit about fear at this point, after telling his story, but he's trying to stay calm. "I don't have much power, that's why I became a wizard. Even without your demon slaying gun, you could shoot me with a regular bullet."

John Constantine has posed:
There's a moment of pensive silence from John, then he leans around and looks at Lev directly. "Y'know, only a bloody fool namedrops the Devil," he points out to the demon. "You're either tellin' the truth or you're a bloody suicide risk."

He steps from behind Lev and jams the water pistol in a voluminous coat pocket. It's a cheap plastic toy bought from any budget store. "I'd just banish or bind you. Lucifer though, he's get downright /nasty/ with someone taking his name in vain. 'es funny about that." John eyes the two shots on the table, lines them up, and downs them in order. The magus hisses with a sigh of relief and rests both palms on the narrow table, then cuts his gaze sideways to Peggy. "Gets it from his Dad, I suppose," he remarks with a whimsical tone. "So SHIELD's recruiting demons these days, huh?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
The information Levian spills about a certain 'Hellblazer' gets a curious, slightly narrowed look from Peggy's eyes. No doubt the old spy is writing every inch of this down in her mental note book. Dark eyes flicker back to John, head slightly tilted, studying his reaction to the whole thing, which is over all very little. A small, thoughtful sound escapes her throat, but she relaxes as the man drops his water gun from Levian's side. The brunette is dead quiet now, a whole lot of new information having fallen into her lap and she's considering both of them with a rather weighted gaze.

"...An asset is an asset." Is all she finally says, in response to John's commentary of SHIELD recruiting demons. Her slender shoulders lift in a bit of a shrug and she actually relaxes back against the wall behind her, no longer on te edge of jumping into a fight in the split of a heartbeat. "Lev here went to bat for us when he didn't have to yesterday. Proven to be a good resource. Low level enough that if this 'Luci'..." She doesn't use the full name, "Or whomever pops him, not a huge loss. Not much information in his lap to screw up higher level projects. But an asset is an asset."

Then she's leveling brown eyes in Levian's direction, her voice and expression a bit more serious, if quieter than before. These words are meant for NO ONE but those at their table. She's happy for the general din of drunks around them, oblivious to the tension at this back high top. "You hear that, kid? I don't really care about your previous... loyalties. You sign on with us, we're your loyalties now. You serve, you fight, you listen...you let us help you actually get your shit together, but that's the lay of the land. Got it? And you risk a single one of my people by being stupid or being 'evil', or what have you? We won't have to call in any Hellblazer to get rid of you."

Levian has posed:
"I only just learned he exists a month ago. Where I'm from, most of the demons just run around eating and fighting each other until a demon lord summons them for a duty. I don't... sit at tables knowing everything that people in the upper classes know, I only hear rumors and myths." Levian stares at John a bit warily, downing the rest of his original rum entirely.

"I asked to join SHIELD. I helped them with an exorcism once, and I told Lara Croft that an artifact she found was dangerous. She told me to get a job, and that I should join SHIELD. I said no at first, but then after a while, when I realized that Wendy's wouldn't hire me, I realized that I should learn about SHIELD. So, now I can try to help humans, and keep Earth safe from things they might not know about." He explains all of this for both John and Peggy, since this is his first time meeting her.

But at her warning, he nods. "I don't... have any previous loyalties, I obeyed demon lords out of fear and genetic imperative. But I can resist, if I try hard enough. And..." Looking to John, then Peggy. "The Prince of Hell is extremely powerful, I have no desire to be near him nor work for him. Hell and its rulers are extremely dangerous to humans, and since I started feeling these new emotions, the things that being on Earth have gradually made me feel... I don't want to feel like I did in Hell again. It's, comfortable, it's natural for me to feel like I did there, but I like these new feelings."

"So..." He offers Peggy his hand again. "I want to help you, and be loyal to you. I do not require the consumption of human souls, I prefer to consume demons. It's why I perform exorcisms."

John Constantine has posed:
John blinks. "You're a bloody -vegan- demon?" The concept clearly seems to boggle him for a moment.

"So you know that Croft bird. And you've made friends with Peg here. Fast accumulating some friends in high places, it seems."

John folds his arms loosely over his chest and looks down at the table, thinking, then catches Peggy's steady gaze out the corner of his eye.

"Demons don't much come up topside for anything good," he informs her. Is his tone a little defensive? "Figured he was pulling a fast one, laying a glamour or a mind trick on you." John turns and looks at Levian. "So, it's 'Lev', huh? Who brought you up top? You snacked on any souls lately or are you living the diet dream plan?" he says. There's something a little accusatory in his tone as if John expects Lev to launch into defensive falsehoods.

Peggy Carter has posed:
While Peggy is often a talker, John's never really seen her in a situation where they weren't one-on-one. Other than a fight, of course. Now, she's strangely quiet. There's much to be learned about this whole situation by silence, especially as she watches the two play off against each other. So, for Lev, many the British agent is just a little shy? Lips mostly hidden behind her half drank pint, and interested glint to her dark eyes. But she's not cutting in much between them.

"I certainly don't want you to eat human souls either. If everything you're saying is honest, Levian, we'll work together well..." Peggy offers gently, a bit less of the threat behind her voice. But she's still on guard. She's just in resting paranoia mode, not active paranoia mode. A slight nod of almost thanks goes to John as he talks about demons and topside. An indication that she'd be curious to hear more, but instead of verbally prompting, she lets silence linger. The sort that invites people to fill it.

Levian has posed:
"I was accidentally summoned by what humans call teenagers. They did the circle wrong, so I left. I was very confused because I've never been summoned to Earth before, and the feeling was very disorienting. It's not just a location shift, it's an emotional shift. Coming to Earth, it feels like thousands of pounds of emotional weight are suddenly lifted from you." Levian explains, before raising a finger. "I know it was an accident, because I'm not very old or powerful, and I've never been to Earth. It would be strange if my true name was in human grimoires."

"My full title is Levian, 999th Son of an Unknown Demon Lord. I've settled on that being the least complicated translation. I think my title may be changing soon, I can kind of feel it. Genetically I instinctively know the most important thing about myself in Hell." He clarifies that as well, catching the usual common questions ahead of time.

"I haven't eaten any human souls here. I did try to eat a necromancer, but I was helping SHIELD. It was possessing a young wizard girl. But someone else ate it instead." He stares at his empty rum glass, frowning at its emptiness. "The human souls that I've eaten were when I was in Hell, they were corrupt souls, the only kind of human soul I find appetizing. Like serial killers, necromancers, and a lot of souls that seem to strangely be from a particular period in human history, they seem to usually speak what I think is called German. But on Earth, acquiring a human soul requires contract magic, and I don't have the power to grant wishes, so my contracts are kind of a vestigial genetic trait."

But he has to interject himself one last time, and adds, "I can only use fire magic, and vestiges of contract magic. I can't use glamours and things like that. I only learned magic because I stole a fire grimoire from a demon lord."

John Constantine has posed:
John just sort of stares at Levian while he goes through the spiel. His tongue probes his cheek and he looks from Lev to Peggy, and back again.

"See mate, this is the part where you think I give a flying shite about any of that," John informs Levian. "You're talking like a demon. Where you're from, who you rule over, who rules over you, where your next meal is. Where your power comes from."

A marker comes out of John's pocket and he starts drawing with an indifferent motion on the table. A whorl, a loop, two lines with a sharp angle-- a sigil takes shape. "That's one thing I like about demons. You're predictable. You all want the same thing. Strap on the feed bag."

To Peggy, the symbol is likely incomprehensible gibberish; to John and Levian, it's a potent runic emblem for a banishment. Even when drawn with a permanent marker on a wet and stained bar table. It wants only for will to power it. "While you're marvellin' at the sights and sounds of the mortal world, consider that the only reason I haven't smote you into a soggy lump on the ground is because the nice gel here would be a bit cross with me for bein' so impolitic. If she gives me the word, I'll deport your sorry arse right back to the fire pits so fast you'll have whiplash." John drags his thumb over the rune, breaking the lines, and gives Levian a hard look. "Savvy?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
The life (unlife?) story of the demon across from Peggy gets a long stare. A slight arch of her brow. She doesn't look exactly enamored, but she's certainly listening. She takes a long sip of her beer, nearly draining the thing, before she puts it down. Noticably, it's carefully outside the symbol that John has drawn. Whatever their relationship, she respects the work of the man across from her. Maybe even trusts him, from the look in her eyes. "Well, as nice as that bedtime story was..." Peggy begins, her voice about as deadpan as the other brit.

"Look, I would be cross. And, as he said, I don't entirely care where you came from. I care what you can do now and if anyone else is holding that leash. If not, we're lovely. Great. Wonderful working relationship. Our other associate needs this report, not me. But she might already know." Then she focuses back on John a bit deeper. "...Can you teach me that? Just in case this kid gets out of hand? I'd rather a reject button if he starts eating humans but if he's on the up and up...no reason to toss a good fish back, right?"

Levian has posed:
Levian stares at it. He may not understand holy water very well, but he certainly understands runic banishment. "I understand." he agrees, but then adds, with a touch of confusion, "I'm talking like a demon because I'm a demon."

But then he looks to Peggy, then to John, then back to Peggy again. "I'll give you something. I gave Daisy one, because I trust her, she's nice. I'm giving you one because you want to feel safe, or like your friends are safe?"

He flicks his wrist, and there's a sudden materialization of flames that then form an old parchment that can be read in one's native language. It's offered to her, and it describes a ritual largely involving items involving fire, like charcoal, wood, other burning things. And then one has to speak a single personal secret or shame. "This is my summoning ritual. If he gives you the banishment spell, you can summon me into it."

There's a short pause, as he considers a way to emphasize the meaning. "So, //you// have the leash."

John Constantine has posed:
John digs his cigarettes out of his pocket. The crumpled pack is slapped twice to extract a smoke and he ignites his lighter with a snap of his fingers. Eyes dance over the ritual card and he hands it back to Peggy.

"Might be legit. Might be bullshit. My advice? Toss him in a cell with iron bars and exorcise him properly. Put a few consecrated rounds in his skull and have a priest read his rites over the corpse. It's the only way to be sure."

John turns and gives Levian a hard eye. "Enjoy your vacation. It won't be a long one. And my smilin' mug is the last thing you'll see before I pop you off for a one-way trip."

With that, the Hellblazer turns and heads for the door and the cool evening air beyond it.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The offer of that ritual card gets an arched brow. Peggy stares at it for a few heartbeats, her left hand coming over to scoop it up out of John's hands. *Her* card. She looks it over, memorizing the contents, then looks down to the table with the same, studying gaze. "I'll...keep that in mind, John." She murmurs softly, but there is an edge of gratitude to her voice. They'd talk more later.

She gives him a little bit of a wave as he heads out, but doesn't move to stop him. Then she's turning back to Levian, the card slipped into her slacks' pocket. The last sip is taken of her beer. "I...gotta lot to think about. I'll talk to Daisy and... well, you'll be like any other recruit. We'll see how it goes. Alright? Now...relax. Don't drink things from strangers. Get a better cover name. I'll see you back at base." And then she stands, going to quickly pay for her drink and head out as well. She's got the answers she came for, and a lot more to think about.