7373/Grim Relations: A Family Connection

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Grim Relations: A Family Connection
Date of Scene: 14 August 2021
Location: Slope Playground, Brooklyn NY
Synopsis: John Constantine takes an astral walk-about to Brooklyn, where a lone ghost is holding a vigil -- but this ghost has connections to the girl living above his bar.
Cast of Characters: Phoebe Beacon, John Constantine




Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The Slope Playground was once a parking lot that was the site of a few clashes between 'racial unrest' in the 60's. NOw, this lot was owned by the borough, and tucked between a couple of higher-rise buildings and apartments, this older playground was due for an update some time in the next few years. It has a half-court basketball hoop, old wooden pillar playground equipment with some sunlight-faded plastic slides and metal swings.

    To the naked eye, int he dusk the playground is somewhat lonely and abandoned. The only greenery is what is growing up in the cracks in the sidewalks next to the chainlink fence that separates it from a street in the back, but one of the swings is slowly going back and forth, as if someone was on it.

John Constantine has posed:
    It's a good thing then, that John doesn't arrive with a naked eye. In fact, *John*, as in the physical of him doesn't arrive at all. Separated from his body, his astral form doesn't look much different than his physical - it's his fully realized self. The only real difference is the Hellfire where there should be faded blues.

    The Astral's been a little slim pickings these days, so when he caught wind that there was an actual spirit, not just a murderous monster of a one, he decided to check things out for himself.

    A lone swing in a pretty lone part amid the destruction wrought by recent happenings is certainly enough to gain attention. Things are different here these days, crows fail to fly, spirits fail to wail save those with no mind left to care to leave, deep craters and trenches scar the 'earth', leaving little else - it almost seems as if it's *dying*.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    And it was here that the lone guardian of this playground stayed, in order to defend his little plot that was tied to the Earth.

    He was maybe in his twenties. He wore a white button-down shirt and a tie, and a simple pair of black slacks. He could have been an anybody -- college student, office worker, religious door-to-door bellringer. His hair had been shorn short, when he was alive, which made the killing blow on the back of his head easy to see.

    He seems to be at rest, minus for the little bits of thread hanging about him. He even hums to himself.

    "Ah, I doubt you are the normal sight-seer!" he calls out in a friendly tone, "But I should warn you further on it gets very, very dangerous for travelers."

John Constantine has posed:
    John touches down, literally - he's not one for flying normally, but here it makes things easier - next to the young man. Even here, he pulls a Silk Cut, or the representation of one, from a trench coat pocket.

    "Aye, right on that, mate, not the normal sight-seer," he agrees, offering the pack for him to partake first should he choose to. "Names Constantine, John Constantine." Even here, in the Astral, the name means different things to different people, but many have heard it.

    "There's a young girl, her name's Phoebe, what do you know?" Always blunt and to the point innit he? Unless circle talk is necessary, something else he excels at.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No, thank you, do not want to set a bad example for the children." he states, motioning to the empty playground in the astral, and he swings a little more, as if in thought. "I Do not often leave these grounds -- tied to it, you see? I like to watch over the little children and exhausted mothers who come here -- it reminds me of what I wanted to protect in life." he explains "But if you speak of what I have been hearing about a different playground, I would be most interested in asking what *you* know."

John Constantine has posed:
    "Enough to know that someone I care about is in trouble, mate. I aim to make that right," John replies as he takes a drag from his Silk; no need for lighting it here, it just is what he wants it to be, lit.

    "Name Asenath mean anything?" Just like the cigarette, he wills it and it is; a second swing. Small things such as are easy for him to manipulate here, but they vanish once he's gone. He settles down on to it, cigarette tucked between his lips, arms wrapped around the chains.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "A name for the Egyptian wife of Joseph, who was cast out by his father and in service to the Pharaoh did count the miracles that God had given him." And then he leans forward, pausing his swing.

    "Or is that the necromancer who caused the wild times I had heard about in Hell's Kitchen?"

    He frowns a moment, and then sighs, and reaches out. "I beleive I shall have one of those cigarettes if we are going to be dredging the past. It is not often that any visit me here, and it has been some time since my brother has left this place. So, there is an Egyptian necromancer vexing you and your friend?"

John Constantine has posed:
    "I'm guessin' you knew the answer to that before you asked the question, mate," John replies before pulling the pack out and handing it over.

    "My friend more than me, at least for now. I might have managed to piss her off a little." Constantine piss someone off, no, that could never happen.

    "Anyway, for now the girl can't be found, I don't think, but that doesn't solve my problem. I'll owe you one if you tell me everything, spare nothing." He kicks his feet against the ground to send the swing back and forth. How long's it been since he's sat on such? Has he ever? Not much of a childhood to speak of.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The silk lights, and politely, the ghost hands the packet back to John. He swings, quietly in contemplation.

    "She glows?" he questions thoughtfully, and gives a soft hm.

    "Asenath, I fear, may be one of my brother's progeny. And it has been so very, very long that I have felt the presence of one born in my home village. Your intuition serves you well." he states, and then gives an embarrassed smile. "I was called Benji, and I will not bore you with the details of my real name. What have you found about the village that she hails from?"

John Constantine has posed:
    "She bloody well does," John replies. "Too bright if you ask me." He takes the pack back and shoves it into a pocket, some things are just habit, or ritual - either applies here.

    "You mean the one she slaughtered, Coptic offshoot, the lot of them dead? Not much else yet, working on panning a trip though, little bit a holiday, might drop in for a visit."

    "Brother you say? So this is your niece? This 'Lady in Red'? Are you awake of what she's doing?" He tries not to sound accusatory, but it's difficult when someone under his care's in danger and someone might have known something important all along. "She's a good kid, doesn't deserve this, any of it. ...so first, start by telling me why?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "That I could not know." the man replies, and Benji looks to John. "Our village was known for sages, diviners, not... what ever happened there. That is not..." he frowns a moment, and then he stands, and leaves the swing. He walks a moment, puffing on the astral coffin nail.

    "Our village was made up of the last bloodlines of certain Egyptian and Nubian priests, who claimed liniage from their own 'land of the gods' to the east. We were protectors. We were defenders of men, this does not... make any /sense/. We have never counted a necromancer among our number... but if she was responsible for why he no longer calls to me... oh, my poor brother. His poor family. All... lost." he looks hollow for a moment, a gut punch to the core of his being.

    "Maybe grand-niece, time is... eeeeh." he states, and waves his hand back and forth.

    "... the story goes that we were dwindling in number, incest and family lines can make for poor lifetimes. After a wandering missionary found us in the 30's, the elders decided that to both expand our knowledge and re-enter the world, each young person should take a five year period to explore... and the women... ah..."

    Even in the Astral realm there's a slight darkening of his cheeks. "Were invited to bring in new blood. We traced our lineage through the first drop of a mother's blood, you see."

John Constantine has posed:
    "So, you all decided to shag outside the family and things went South?" John asks. Oh John, Chas would be mortified? "Huh, usually it's the other way around." Just a beat, a drag from that Silk that never seems to burn down even though it's *burning*.

    "...and you've no idea who this brother you're speaking of might bumped uglies with? There's some bad juju with that one. ...and someone doesn't want the village found again." He kicks the ground a little harder and nearly falls off the swing before righting himself. "Why do you stay here? Can you chose to leave or..." Because he could certainly help with the 'or'. "I'll help your brother if there's still help to be had for him."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No, things were... they were getting better. I was going to be married to one who was born in our village from outside blood." he states quietly, "But we are protectors. I came to the United States to protect, where I could. Until I could do no more." he euphemizes his own death, touching the back of his head.

    "We had stronger children. So many less deaths. If the father was already a member of the occult so it would be better, perhaps we would learn more of the outside world's magics and protect the knowledge within our library."

    And then, as John kicks the ground, Benji reaches out to try and steady him.

    "... I could have gone on, to meet our creators, to join in the primordial or wherever adventure takes those in the here-after... but..."

    "... three children against five men with sticks. I was not the strongest of the village, but I could not stop and watch idly. I do not imagine you would be able to, either. And I stayed, here, protecting those who come in to play and comforting those who come to weep. If that is all that those born of my village can do, then I shall be comforted."

John Constantine has posed:
    Could he stop and watch idly? Sometimes he might claim he could, but that's when he's lying to himself about who and what he really is. ... a man that actually gives a shit, too much sometimes for his own good.

    John looks around at the wasteland it's become. "And now? Do they still come at all?" But he's getting off topic, he really is.

    "Do you know where the girl was born? Was she born in your village?"

    Without warning, because he's a dick like that, John floods Benji's mind with the things he saw the day he had Phoebe in the circle. "Do you know this place? The place she was born?" Her birth, or the moments after it, aren't all he shares, he shares it all as if Benji had born witness to it as well.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "The tired mothers and their little children, yes. During the day. And I watch over them as if they were my own." he smiles. "Do you not have children, John? No little folding of your heart with joy when you see their smiling faces looking back at you?" Benji inquires -- and then John begins to ask more questions, and flood the images. Benji is not used to this, and he pushes back against John.

    "John, I died in 1961! The village would have changed drastically if she is still a girl and not a woman! The year, it has been more than fifty years, hasn't it?" the ghost struggles a moment. "I do not recognize these places!"

John Constantine has posed:
    He had to try, it's over as quick as it started.

    John barks out a laugh. "Me? Kids?" Ha! "No, I'd make a horrible father." Something he believes, with his whole being, to be the truth of it.

    "I need to know *why* and I need to know what I'm walking into when I find your village. Where is it, exactly, anyway? It's ... there's magic surrounding it, I can't pinpoint an exact location, just general. Exact would be helpful."

    ...after another drag from that Silk that burns but never burns down, he adds, "Sorry about that." He's truly not, but it's only because this is a matter of protecting someone that he's, surprisingly, grown to care about a great deal. Dare say enough that he'd rip poor Benji to ghostly shreds if it would spare Phoebe... or even do the same to himself.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "That, I can help you with." he states, and purses his lips as he takes a drag of the silk again.

    "You will find the front gates -- if they remain -- one hundred meters from the shore of Lake Nubia, beyond where it used to flood before they built the dams. There is... was..." he frowns "A well in the middle of the village, and that is most likely the remaining and strongest structure. But the sandstorms may have buried parts of it..." he frowns, and picks at one of the threads that hang from him. "It should be very nearly on the line between Egypt and Sudan. Look for the reeds."

John Constantine has posed:
    John studies Benji with those Hellfire eyes of his for a long few moments before he asks, "Isn't it lonely? Sitting here day after day waiting to see if someone comes along?" There's something in his tone, in the way he asks it that speaks to him being someone that knows a thing or two about loneliness.

    "If I can find them, help them if they need it, free them if they're trapped, would you want to go back to your family again?" It's not just a question waiting for an answer, no, it's more than that... it's an offer to try his best to do do exactly that; help them, free them if they need freed.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "And miss the honor of guarding a place where children can be children?" he asks, and then Benji looks over the empty playground.

    "I do not mind. I have seen the city change around me, I have protected children from scraped knees and bloody noses. This..." he motions, with a grand wave of his arm "is my household. And all those who pass through the gates are the children I will never father, the wives who will never love me, and yet I love them the same. From the bottom of my heart." he states, pressing his hand over his heart. And he is quiet for a moment, before he takes a last drag of the cigarette in his hand.

    "If you were to return and tell me they are safe, I would be most glad and would ask for many blessings upon the man John Constantine." he gives a wry smile. "And we could say what are favors between friends."

John Constantine has posed:
    "I can do that," John promises as he pushes up out of the swing. "But I doubt any request for blessings on my behalf will be heard and heeded," he adds quietly before reaching out to clap Benji on the shoulder.

    "There are worse places to spend an eternity," he murmurs after he gives the ghostly shoulder a squeeze. "I guess I know where to find you if I have more questions and Benji, be careful. There's a shift in the Underworld, big forces at play, I don't know how it'll pan out in the end, but lay low if it gets any uglier than this..." He makes a broad gesture to indicate the 'this' of it, the dying astral.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... this is the worst I have ever seen." Benji remarks, looking to the dying astral realm around them.

    "And in that case, John, I shall just have to pray harder until they are heard." Benji gives a gentle smile.

John Constantine has posed:
    "Take care then and I'll see you soon, as soon as I have any information." John's Silk, still as long as the second it lit, is tucked between his lips to stay there.

    "If a woman named Mary-Anne with a wee babe in her arms ever drops in, tell her I'm sorry." Not that he believes his mother would ever end up *here* with his twin, but... never hurts to put the word out there, right?

    That said, he floats up, off into the distance and the dark, those Hellfire eyes visible long after he isn't.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Mary-Anne and a wee babe. I shall do my best." Benji replies, and he watches as John makes his exit, leaning back slightly on the swing.

    As he leans back, the swing in the real world moves and stills... and then slowly settles into place as the city that never sleeps continues around it.