8559/A Familiar Face.

A Familiar Face.
Date of Scene:	05 November 2021
Location:	The Laughing Magician
Synopsis:	A familiar face shows up at the Laughing Magician and, of course, John's moving Nellie in next door. ... rent free.
Cast of Characters:	John Constantine, Nellie Graves

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John Constantine has posed:
    Anyone looking for John Constantine in the general New York City area, anyone that knows a thing about him, wouldn't have any trouble at all. The name Laughing Magician is synonymous with the man in the right circles after all. Even if the man himself isn't there, it's the best place to leave a message for him.

    Tonight though, he's in the house. In fact, he's sitting on that Pauper's Throne of his, the bar stool that most would look away from in disgust before actually sitting upon it. There's a bottle of scotch and a glass at one elbow and an ashtray, a pack of Silk Cut cigarettes - a UK favorite those and the same brand he smoked when he lived there - and a zippo lighter on top the pack. The lighter's familiar from back then as well.

    John? He's easily recognizable. A little older, but it's definitely him. More so than the older is the *tired* and the *thin*. He looks like he's seen Hell and back again since the last time Nellie saw him.

    The Clash pelts out London Calling on the jukebox, volume low enough for conversation, but loud enough that he's idly 'air drumming' fingers on the bar's top, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

Nellie Graves has posed:
Nellie Graves sighs. A tall woman, trim and slim with a black and maroon flowing shirt, tight black jeans and a myriad of rings and jewelery... tries to slid in along the wall, looking over the place. Tcking a stray hair over her ear, one shock silver, and, with a... blink of surprise, works her way through to perhaps set herself near John.

John Constantine has posed:
    From the moment Nellie walked through the door, John knew that someone with at least a bit of magical talent had come through. Of course he's never felt Nellie's particular signature through his own wards before, so he didn't *immediately* recognize the source.

    That changes, however, when he finally looks in her direction, head angled to keep the smoke from that cigarette from stinging his eyes, one of those faded denim blues squinting slightly against the stuff.

    "Annabelle," he murmurs quietly, using the name he knew first, the name from when... Lee was still alive. A little shake of his head, tiny thing, head tilted slightly to one side and he plucks that Silk from his mouth to put it in the ashtray.

    "Nellie," louder this time. He pushes up from that stool and if she's not quick about moving out of the way from it, she'll find herself caught up in something that's a rare thing from John Constantine, a hug.

Nellie Graves has posed:
    She looks over and her eyes widen, setting her drink aside just a split second in time... too stunned by what's just happened, before she takes the hug and oofs, but gives back just as much. "John..." her accent is just as lilting but a bit more scattered, an inadvertent laugh following, but she's not pulling away. "What the hell, mate? I thought I'd never see you again."

John Constantine has posed:
    "Well, if you'd heard I was dead, rumors of such are *always* exaggerated, luv," John murmurs in return before he finally lets go and steps back, taking her hands in his own in that 'let me look at you' fashion people do. "What in the bloody *Hell* are you doing in New York?" he asks.

    "Nigel!" he calls out to the college age goth looking fellow behind the bar. He's tall and lanky, nerdy even and his name's really William, but he dares not make a correction. "She drinks on the house, any time she's in here!"

    Then his attention is back on Nellie. "You had to have little bit of a clue, aye? When you walked into the Laughing Magician? I mean, c'mon," he offers along with a wink.

Nellie Graves has posed:
Nellie, for her part takes him in.. and smiles softly. "And I am in New York because I was bored everywhere else. Heard the best rumors were here..." *she gestures, jangles of bracelts and rings* "As for sniffing a trail... maybe I -did- have a little idea. I felt a bit of magic... and a good head of Guiness or a Jameson is a good start to catch up?"

John Constantine has posed:
    "Beer," John says as if it's a dirty word. He nods to his bottle of scotch. "Sure you'd not rather have something that tastes a little less like piss?" Jameson or not, beer's never been his thing. He taps the bar top and Nigel-William delivers a clean glass just in case Nellie would rather have scotch.

    "Well, New York is definitely anything but boring," he comments before taking somewhere between a swig and a sip from his own glass. Then he decides better of it and tosses the whole thing back only to refill it again.

    "So, you doin' okay?" he asks, his gaze only drifting toward her sideways rather than straight on, definitely not inviting the question to be turned back to him after her answer.

Nellie Graves has posed:
Nellie smiles, but glances away. "I haven't.... been truly ok for years, but I manage." She reaches up and toys with the silver streak in her hair. "I actually didn't know you were here, but I am glad. There's that kinda tug, ya know?"

John Constantine has posed:
    "I know it's nowhere near the same, but I miss him too, luv." There's sincerity to his tone, to his expression. John Constantine is an expert conman, but this isn't that. "He knew how to listen, y'know? Without making me feel like I was crazy."

    He picks up that bottle of scotch and fills that second glass before picking up his own and holding it up 'toast' style. "To Lee," he looks around the bar, glances up then looks back to Nellie. "He's somewhere watching us, probably bitching that I've had enough and need to lid the bottle for the night. But he's smiling at you, luv. Proud of the independent woman his big sister's become, of that I'm sure, aye?"

Nellie Graves has posed:
"Aye, he did." She reaches out for the other shot, silent tears falling from her eyes, throat constricted until she tosses it back, and taps three times. She slams it down, and lifts a wrist to wipe her eyes. She turns and focuses on John again. For a moment... her blue eyes focus between grey, and blue again... quiet, but nodding. Nellie toasts, tears pricking her eyes but a smile on her face. "I think you are officially my best friend."

John Constantine has posed:
    John downs his own and then refills both before lighting another cigarette off the one nearly burned out in the ashtray. He drags long and hard from the thing and releases the smoke not in a forced exhale, but in a lazy breath that allows it to billow out and hang in the air around him like a cloud.

    "Careful there, luv, people that claim that tend to get dead or the like," he offers in what he strives to make sound like a joke, but fails. There's a sadness in those faded denim blues of his when he says it.

    But he turns it all on a dime and asks, "So, you have a place to stay in the city yet?" A pause, another drag from that nasty Silk Cut before, "I own the old apartment building next door, got some vacancies if you need a place. No rent."

    Looking after Nellie would come regardless, after their time together, after Ravenscar... after just all of it. The fact that she's Lee's sister? Well, that only seals an already done deal.

Nellie Graves has posed:
She's settled herself down, and pulls her own small, pearlescent cylindrical and presses a button, inhaling once before side blowing a puff of something that smells like blueberry muffins. She glances around, but her eyes come back to John again. She.. doesn't seem to look at him any different then back then, takes another hit and shrugs. "I'm here and there." There's a pause, then she shoots him another look, assessing him. "Have a suggestion?"

John Constantine has posed:
    "Yeah, luv," John begins along with a little bit of a chuckle. "My apartment building, next door. But his gaze is on that vape pen. He's looking at that thing as if it's a demon spawned from Hell ready to bit his head off. He bites his own lip to keep from commenting, but then he just *can't* anymore.

    "Really, Nellie? If a cigarette was supposed to smell like blueberry muffins, they'd be born in a bakery, aye?" He's mostly teasing, but John's obviously not a vape fan.

    He slides off his stool and adds, "Listen, luv, I gotta run. Got an appointment with an old lady that's *convinced* that her dead husband is haunting her because she sold their house." He gestures at Nigel-William over there behind the bar. "He can take you next door, aye? Show you around, let you pick out an empty apartment and then we can see what we can do about making it less empty tomorrow?"

    He doesn't leave much room for a response before he's heading for the front door.

    Poor William, poor, poor William, he just offers Nellie a helpless little look and offers, "You might as well just give in and move into his damned building, he won't let up. Doesn't know the meaning of the words 'let up'."

    ...and Nigel-William will do his duty and show Nellie around the Curio next that old apartment building that looks suspiciously like it belongs in Liverpool, same as the pub. A little too authentic, both of them.

Nellie Graves has posed:
She looks after him with a sort of understanding expression, nods, and goes long with it.