8355/Helluva First Night

Helluva First Night
Date of Scene:	21 October 2021
Location:	House of Mystery
Synopsis:	John shows Paul the demon and keeps the promise he made to try and give up one of his own. The two of them make a minor breakthrough regarding the Thinnings and then spend their first night in the US together.
Cast of Characters:	John Constantine, Paul Ramsey

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John Constantine has posed:
    After battling Cocomelon, a vision John cannot get out of his head, he decided that drinks at 'home' and a bit of book digging was more in order than his Pauper's Throne at the Laughing Magician. He steps through the portal after Paul, as he has to be the last one in.

    It starts as soon as he's through, that ... armor removal? First the trenchcoat, then the tie, kick off the shoes, untuck and unbutton the shirt. Not a word through it, but it's something Paul's used from all those years ago and the brief visits in more recent years.

    When it's all done, John turns and holds out a hand. "C'mere, love. I have a *fuckton* of books to look through and a demon to show you, but before that... maybe a proper hug, aye?"

    If the other people in his life heard that request come from him? Hell, they'd all look up to the sky for flying pigs.

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    Paul removes his jacket, himself, then steps forward to take John's hand and pull him close into a firm hug. He just stands there for a time, sighs.

    "I was worried," he admits, "but... I think we managed that. It bodes well for the future."

John Constantine has posed:
    John loves being where he is, in Paul's arms. He doesn't break it or back off or even let Paul do so right away, not even through their talking. "Aye, we did good," he murmurs. "Sorry it had to be your first night here though." Finally he pulls back *just* far enough to look up at Paul's face and rest one hand on a scruffy cheek.

    "You ready, love?" It's happened before, John 'showing' in things. Never good things, most of the good things he's experienced *with* the Fallen Angel. The demon, he's talking about the demon. Paul can't help look until he knows what he's looking for.

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    Paul hesitates /just/ a moment, just to be sure he /is/ ready. Takes a long breath in and lets it out, and then says, "It's maybe best that it was like that. So I can get used to it."

    Then he nods, gently, expression serious. "I'm ready. Go ahead."

John Constantine has posed:
    John traces fingertips over Paul's brow. Man has long, elegant fingers, could have been a pianist, it's true. Eventually he rests the heel of his palm there and reaches up to press the other hand against his own forehead. "Show him," whispered and gentle.

    At first he thinks about holding back, only giving a flash of an image, protecting Paul from the *all* of it, but in the end... he doesn't. That's not the way to start their new life is it?

    How's Paul to help, both the situations and John, if he John holds back?

    So he gets the all of it, he gets the picture of the sword wielding demon with a mouth teeth that splits clear down its chest, the skeletal face, the wings, the clawed fingers, the grey skin... But he also gets what happened to John, without the linger effects, but the moment experienced.

    The fear as that wide maw came toward him, the feeling of the vileness of the magic of that thing coursing through him as it shoved him backwards, the moment of 'fuck this is it' when that thing stretched out, for his eyes only, that gaping wound of a mouth open as if to devour him and then... it was over and Lydia was offering her hand.

    He ends it gently, leaving the lingering sense of just *him* alive and okay in Paul's mind before drawing away completely. "Sorry, love," he whispers quietly as he lowers both hands.

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    Paul closes his eyes, to absorb the memory. He shudders a moment, on seeing it, and tears fall from his eyes as he /feels/ what John went through, how /awful/ and terrifying it was.

    Then it's done, and he takes a few deep breaths and opens his eyes. "No," he says. "No need to be sorry. Thank you, for trusting me."

    He hugs John again, for a long, lingering moment, then steps back. "So now I know what to look for."

John Constantine has posed:
    John runs his hand down Paul's arm to his fingertips where he holds for just a moment before pulling away and turning to the little fainting couch to pick up his trenchcoat. He digs around in one of the inside pockets and comes up with a little flip top case that looks like it might be made to hold cigars. Silver, a devil in the traditional venue, etched into the top of it. He tosses it underhanded, gently, in Paul's direction.

    Inside, several baggies filled with white powder and an assortment of street pressed pills, their actual 'content' unknowable. "I made promise, love, that's all I have. Do what you will with it."

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    Paul blinks rapidly as he catches the case almost on instinct. He opens it up and blinks down at it slowly. Then he nods and tucks it away in a pocket. He knows ways to dispose of the drugs safely and discreetly so nobody else will get hold of them and John Constantine will not be implicated for having them.

    "Thank you, love," he says. "I know you could get more... but I appreciate the gesture. And I trust you not to." A tension has gone out of him, a worry he hadn't really been aware of.

John Constantine has posed:
    "I don't think it's gonna be easy, Paulie," John admits. He gives a little uncertain shake of his head, along with a wrinkle of his nose and a pressing together of his lips. "It's not been an occasional thing lately." Just a heads up and he holds out his hand again.

    "Keep me company in the library?" He won't ask Paul to dig through books of demons and other hellspawn, he won't turn down the help, but it's not something he'll ask him to do. Some of the contents of those books might not be fit for Angelic consumption.

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    Paul takes the hand and says in a slightly amused tone, "Is there any way you can sort out the books you're willing to let me look at? Or shall I take my chances at seeing something /truly/ horrific?"

    The angel Eloniel fought in the Rebellion, John. He's seen terrible things before.

    "I'd like to help," he goes on. "In fact, I think I might insist."

John Constantine has posed:
    "Well, I assume you don't want to mess with the ones bound in human skin?" John asks. He's not being a smart ass about it either, it's a genuine question. It's not as if he's even found of those tomes in the collection, but... any means to the right end.

    He leads the way through the house, first through a doorway that likely wasn't there when Paul showed up just before Wal-Mart went to Hell, then a down a long hallway and past a few heavy wooden doors that arch at the top, finally he stands in front of a double set of those arching doors and reaches out to touch them with one hand.

    They open of their own accord at his touch to reveal... there's no way that whole room fits into how small the House appears to be on the outside, it's *massive*. Shelves upon shelves upon shelves, rolling wooden ladders, comfortable couches and overstuffed chairs. It's huge.

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    "I... would appreciate not touching those, no." Paul follows along down the hall and through the doors and then into the library. He looks around, obviously quite impressed. How the room fits into the building is hardly a concern--magic, and particularly the sort of magic the original owner of this House had access to, can do impressive things. It's the library itself that he appreciates.

John Constantine has posed:
    He seems to know exactly the section he needs, John heads right for it. It's on the far right side. He rolls the ladder over a few sections and climbs nearly to its top. Before pulling down a giant tome of a book that almost looks too heavy for him to handle from atop that ladder. "Start with this one?" he ask, looking down at Paul. It's definitely NOT bound in human skin but it is extremely old, the pages thin and worn. When Paul gets his hands on it, it seriously reads like a Pokedex for demons with different 'stages' pictured for each one.

    Once he hands the book off, he makes his way to a locked cabinet and unlocks it with a whisper.

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    Paul reaches up to take the book carefully, so he doesn't drop it or tear the pages. He goes to sit down in one of the chairs and just as gently opens the book, starting to go through its pages with the practiced eye of the investigator.

    "Your people seemed to work well together, considering..." He pauses. 'Considering they're mortals' comes to mind, but he's not going to just... /say/ that.

John Constantine has posed:
    John reaches into that cabinet and pulls a much smaller book from a shelf inside. The second he touches it, Paul will *feel* it, the icy cold tendrils of fear bordering on terror that initially have his lover it its grips. His breath catches in his chest, his heart skips a beat. The book he's holding isn't only human skin, the image on it's cover is inlaid with human teeth and bones.

    "I remember something in this one about..." he murmurs more to himself than Paul. It's clear though, John hates that book, it radiates *bad shit* like the sun radiates heat. No wonder he has fucking nightmares when even his research is dealing with this crap? He makes it a point, while he's looking through this one, to stay WAY over there, away from Paul.

    But as Paul is looking through his own, it's about thirty pages in that he'll find something that looks similar to what John had shown him, but not precisely. It's a demon that has to do with greed, lust for power and it promises the removal of those that stand it the way of its followers becoming rich, famous and powerful. Livyacin is its name.

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    Paul glances up and over, brow furrowing for a moment. He doesn't like it, on any level, but at the moment there isn't a lot of choice.

    So he looks back down at the book and stops on the page that has what... /might/ be what they're looking for. He frowns at it, considering.

"John?" he calls. So that John can put down the other book and come over. "I might have something." He holds up the book to show the picture of Livyacin.

John Constantine has posed:
    "One second, love." John grinds those words out between clenched teeth. It's a battle between him and a damned book. It's almost as if something from inside the book was trying to crawl its way inside *John*. So it takes him a moment, but he manages to find the page he was looking for, skim, commit it to memory for the most part, at least enough to come back for it later. Finally he slams the thing shut and puts it back inside the cabinet. As soon as the doors are closed and locked with a whisper, that Bad Shit feeling leaves the room.

    It lingers in John a little longer, his heart's still pounding when he makes his way toward Paul, the overstuffed chair, the book. "Whatcha got," he asks quietly even as he's getting all up in the Angel's personal space, forcing the chair and a half to fit both of them. He's shivering a little, just a little. Closeness, comfort. He's used to just doing this alone. He's used to handling evil tainted books like that and dealing with the effects after... alone. Once he's all squeezed into the chair with Paul, he looks at the picture, snagging a little pair of round reading glasses off a side table before hand and putting them on.

    "This is different right here," he says, pointing at the branded mark on the thing's chest. It's more like a pentagram here."

    Paul can certainly *feel* it, that little niggling in the back of John's brain, like the frustration of having a word at the tip of one's tongue. "This has to be... something." A glance to the cabinet and he murmurs, "To find it, find the sum of its parts..."

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    'Are you thinking it might be more than one? An... amalgamation, somehow?" Paul reaches around to put an arm around John, to hold him for a moment, to offer the comfort even if it's only for as long as John's looking at the book with him. "Or do you just think it's... very similar to this but not the same?"

John Constantine has posed:
    "Both? It's a Tupla, a twisted version of one but the same principle. Made bigger by the power of prayer. What... I think there's... I'm getting there, but it's not quite there yet. I need you to do something with me. It can't be tomorrow, we have to go to London."

    He curls in closer, no longer really looking at the book. "We need to go to each of the spots there was a thinning and see if we can find any signs anywhere around that there was some sort of worship happening." He knows the church in Maine. But what about the other places.

    "What if people, en masse, are some how worshiping a different version of the same small fish?"

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    "That makes sense," Paul says slowly. "And... we can do that, when there's time. And then... what?" He looks at John, encouraging him to go ahead and explain his thinking.

John Constantine has posed:
    "We need to keep looking, find anything that's similar. Cut them up, put them together like a puzzle. ... or something." John takes those little round glasses back off and sets them aside to dig his thumb and index finger into his eyes, rubbing them. "I'm crashing hard, love. I haven't... done anything since last night. Before our conversation. I'm all foggy."

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    "Well, then..." Paul hesitates for a moment. He /could/ offer to look through the books while John sleeps, but John has been sleeping badly, and that... means Paul needs to be there with him.

    "Let's leave this for tomorrow, then. I can stay here and go through the books while you go to London. I know what to look for, I can make a list of possible pieces of this Tulpa."

John Constantine has posed:
    "M'kay..." His voice is so soft and sleepy that it seems he might just fall asleep right there in the chair. But eyes that were closing after he lowered his hand snap back open again. "Bloody hell, if we don't move, I'm not gonna." So he struggles himself to his feet, takes the book from Paul and ... tosses it into the air? Wut?

    But damned if the thing doesn't shelve itself. Or the House shelves it, more to the point.

    He holds both of his hands out to Paul. "Any luck and we'll have Phoebe's powers sorted after tomorrow. That'll take a little of the load off, aye? She's too vulnerable right now and that scares me."

    ...huh, if only everyone could see this side of John Constantine? Maybe in time, the more all of this settles in?

    "I'm *so* sorry about that giant fucking clown, Paulie." He really is, but he can't help the little grin and the barely stifled chuckle.

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    Paul says, with an entirely straight face, "I don't know what you're talking about." Because the second he spotted the clown he /ignored/ it. Getting bothered by terrifying clowns was not going to help solve the problems of the soulless temple to capitalism that they were in.

    He stands, and takes John's hands. "I will look up demons, then. You go and help Phoebe. You've got good people behind you, and they'll help make sure your daughter is safe." A pause. "And... hopefully she won't punch me when she sees me, this time." He's just /not/ going to let that go. Not for a bit, anyway.

John Constantine has posed:
    John rubs his thumbs over Paul's hands while he's holding them. "She won't, as long as you don't run off on her old man," he replies... honestly. He knows his kid and knows the Hell she'll rain down should that happen.

    He stretches up that three or so inches needed to place a kiss on his lover's lips. Gentle and sweet and soft. He's way too tired for it be any more than that. When he turns to lead Paul back through those double doors, they open straight into John's bedroom. Freaky weird House, innit? Where'd the hallway go?

    Right there, on Paul's side of the bed, sitting on the pillow is a clown doll. Oops! He hurries over to jerk it up and stuff it in the closet. He put that there *before* Paul's homecoming got interrupted without them even having the chance to make it to the bedroom.

    He turns from the closet and shrugs a helpless little shrug that raises his shoulders almost to his chin, "Sorry, love."

    "Forgive me?" he asks as he's going about the business of changing into a pair of those ridiculous flannel pants - black with werewolves howling at the full moon. Once changed, he nods to the bed, "I made sure the sheets are ridiculously high thread count."

    He'll get a decent amount of sleep tonight, but not because anything is different *yet*, just because he'll have Paul there to rouse him when they start rather than him waking up screaming at the end of them.

Paul Ramsey has posed:
    Paul sighs at the clown doll. He grumps about it because it makes John laugh, but John's sense of humor is part of what he loves about the man. "I forgive you," he says. "Always." A pause, and then, "...But /please/ no more clown dolls at least for a week? I've had my fill."

    And then he, too, will change, and help John manage to get a decent night's sleep.