Owner	Pose
Padraigh O'Malley	Padraigh O'Malley is at the bar a stout Irish beer in one hand a bottle of whiskey sitting beside him that he generously pours into a glass periodically. He takes out a pack of cigarettes pulling one from it and sparking it with his zippo, taking a drag inhaling and exhaling that puff of smoke as he stares off his suit jacket adjusted and leather duster just below him on the bar stool.
John Constantine	Eventually, someone in a coat sits down next to Padraigh. Whether John Constantine is here to talk to the demi god or not isn't particularly clear at the moment. For the nonce, the Smiling Magician seems more interested in ordering himself a pint and having a look around. He doesn't bother taking his own trench coat off, though. He keeps it on, covering the white shirt with the red tie. He looks tired, though, hair disheveled and bags under his eyes.
Padraigh O'Malley	Padraigh O'Malley smirks looking over at John he nods and than to the Bartender he speaks. "His drinks on me Pal." Padraigh says with a grin. "M'names Padraigh O'Malley but most folks just call me Paddy." He says with a shrug. "I ain't seen you in here before, ya new aroun' here?" He asks his accent thick and a combination of the Irish Lilting brogue and that traditional Gotham sound. "Whiskey?" He asks holding up the bottle.
John Constantine	"Not likely, mate," John says, turning to Padraigh. "Been around Gotham a few times, an' I know all its watering holes." He takes his glass and looks at the whiskey bottle, nudging the glass towards Padraigh with a smile. "So which one do you come from, eh, mate?" He turns, elbow on the bar, eyeing Padraigh. "You got the rot but it's hard to tell sometimes without some analysis."
Padraigh O'Malley	Padraigh O'Malley nods his head a bit to John pouring whiskey into the glass. "I see, well that all depends friend, on what ya mean by which one I be comin' from." He says simply. "And where I come from when one bloke introduces himself especially with a drink it's only polite to introduce oneself back." Padraigh says with a playful grin and hearty laugh sliding the glass back over to his fellow imbiber.
John Constantine	"Too right," John's hand slaps the bartop and then he brings the glass to his lips, taking a drink and downing the liquid. He sets the empty glass back down and says, "I'm John Constantine, and you, my friend, got the, how shall I put this delicate like, _aroma_ of death upon you. And not the pretty pale charming one shows up when we all finally kick it; you got divinity in yer veins, yeah?"
Padraigh O'Malley	Padraigh O'Malley blinks and looks at John draining his own whiskey and pouring another glass, taking a drink of beer and setting it down as he drags from the cigarette. "Smoke?" He asks offering the pack and a lighter. "Yea...I've got divinity in me veigns, how're you knowin' that? But yes I'm the son of Arawn, God of death and the underworld, well fer the Celts that is. So yea...but howd ye' know tha' Johnny Boy?"
John Constantine	"Well, to be honest, I thought my reputation might'a preceded me, but once in a while it don't, an' that's fine, to be expected an' all." John sniffs a bit and straightens up, nudging his glass towards Padraigh and taking one of the smokes. "Thank ye grandly. Now, you might say I've got a nose for this sort've thing and the Fates, well, Morrigans really this time, they pointed that nose in your direction, so tell me, Paddy, mate, what's on yer mind?"
Padraigh O'Malley	Padraigh O'Malley pours John another glass and turns looking to his other side and he speaks to someone in Irish for a moment or two, or does he...Padraigh laughs at something that may or may not have been said before waving it off and turning back to John. "Hmmm? What's on me mind, lad that's a well tha's a loaded question tha' is." He grins taking another swig and a drag. "Ah yes yer welcome by the way, I heard ye' just slipped me mind. That said do you know anythin' abou' me Johnny boy? Anythin' at all the thin's I can do?"
John Constantine	"Not a thing, mate. You know how you semi-divine blokes are like, some of you can move mountains and the rest'a yah can't move a feather without blowin' at it. But I'm fair sure that if the fates sent me to ya it's cuz you're worth at least yer weight in salt." He lights the cigarette, taking a long drag.
Padraigh O'Malley	Padraigh O'Malley smiles and leans back. "Well let's see then as a child of a death God, I'm a Medium, I can speak and see spirits and ghosts, I'm a Necromancer well clearly you know what that means. I can temporarily take the form of other humans ive met. I age slowly and am practically immune to all diseases. And I can see through the veil into the astral planes specifically into my fathers realm when needed. That sum it up good?"
John Constantine	"Sums it up some, at least," John says with a roll of his head a little. "So what are ye looking to doin' with those powers of yours mate? what do you do? Or do you waste yer days away just sittin' around tossing back pints an' shots and waiting for someone to kick it near you for a lark?"
Padraigh O'Malley	Padraigh O'Malley shrugs draining the beer outing his cigarette and sparking another one a big drag in. "Naw I don' jus' waist my days sittin' here, I write Urban Fantasy novels and horror stuff ya know?" He asks with a shrug of his shoulders. "Fictional shite, but it's fun. As fer wha' I'm lookin ta do with my powers. Well I was thinkin' of openin' maybe a paranormal research and investigative service, and ya' know battlin' the things tha' go bump in the night."
John Constantine	"Sounds 'bout right," John says with a nod. He takes a deep breath and then reaches into his coat pocket, sliding over a card for Padraigh to take. "Tell you what, you decide that way, tryin' t'help people, battle the forces'a darkness, you give this number a call. Or text. Whichever." The card just says: JLD in bold with a number on the other side.
Padraigh O'Malley	Padraigh O'Malley takes the card and looks at it for a moment. "Sure thin' Ill be givin' ya a call I'm sure." He says flicking the card a few times.
John Constantine	By the time Paddy looks back up, John Constantine is gone, leaving behind only a set of spinning coins as a tip for the bartender.